#and when finally did it clung to me for over two hours

[cocrante]

Every year, in June, I take care of our monarch butterfly caterpillars. I nurture them in a safe environment, away from the elements and various animals. We monitor them until the cocoons hatch and even afterward — with care and attention, we help them become familiar with their new bodies. A newly emerged butterfly is confused and disoriented, taking hesitant steps with heavy and sluggish wings. But in just a few hours, it will be able to soar amidst the colourful and fragrant fields.

The one you see in the photo is the sixth butterfly born. Its wings are still crumpled, and it moves hesitantly. Slowly, however, it begins to familiarize itself with the surrounding environment. In just over two hours, it unfolded its wings and attempted its first flight tests. Once confident in its ability to fly, it spread its wings and soared high towards the blue sky.

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 

And Peter never even asked why. 

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 

And how true that must have been. 

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 

 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 

“Did he?” 

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 

“Mj happened.” 

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 

“I’m not pretending-” 

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

[e-nonsense]

“Stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? Wanted me to fuck you like I hate you.”

+ “Breathe through your nose, sweetheart. You can take i know you can.”

─── owned

pairing. arkham knight!jason todd x reader

warnings. SMUT, use of pet names (baby, doll, ma), mean!jason, marking, degradation,

prompts used. “Stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? Wanted me to fuck you like I hate you.”+ “Breathe through your nose, sweetheart. You can take i know you can.” from smut prompt list

a/n. first time I’ve written arkham jason, got lazy couldn’t be bothered to finish it.

He was mean.

Mean, and rude and spiteful and so fucking attractive. The way the two of you fought, he’d pin you down, growling and panting, his big hand around your throat angrily. You were relentless, but probably his favourite of Bruce’s ‘minions’.

Too pretty in his opinion to be running around in that tight fitted black and blue suit fighting crime. You needed to be protected, kept from harm, owned like a fucking pretty little doll.

So when he finally got you — you slipped up, fell right into his trap — he made sure not to waste a second with you before Batman eventually came looking for you.

Your suit was torn, little scrapes and bruises on your skin from hours of relentless fighting — Bruce had you working overtime. The bottle of water and plate of food left untouched on the floor of the room he’d confined you in, not exactly a cell, it was warm, a plush bed, you suspected this is where he slept.

You curled up in the furthest corner of the room, far away from where he sat on the bed quietly observing you behind his helmet. Behind the helmet his eyes raked down you body, taking in the way your suit clung to your skin, tightly.

Then he patted his lap, “come here.” He ordered, as if he already owned you — which in Jason’s mind he already did and it was only a matter of time before you knew it too.

You scoffed, he didn’t like that, “now.” He demanded, this time you got up on shaky legs, walking towards him slowly before moving to sit beside him. “On my lap, doll.”

You take in a sharp intake of breath before complying, too tired to fight anymore, dropping onto his lap. His hands immediately came to you hips holding them tightly, you back to his chest.

One of his hands disappear and you hear a little hiss of air behind you and you see his helmet placed on the bed beside you. “Eyes forward,” he says, his voice clearer without the modulator, but somehow its more intimidating like that.

His lips come down to your neck, pressing harsh kisses on your skin, sucking and biting wherever he can, marking you. He paused for a moment, “is this okay?” He asked, something you figured he wouldn’t do. “Doll.. answer me.”

You nod slowly, “yeah..”

He hums in response, a soft tearing sound fills your ears and you feel his lips on your bare spine, realising he’d torn through your suit with little resistance.

“You’re real pretty, y’know that, baby?” He murmurs, “too pretty to be one of Bruce’s little pawns.”

You don’t trust yourself to answer, so you stay quiet not that he minds the silence, all the more fun for him when he breaks you. “Close your eyes,” he whispers and you follow, eyes fluttering shut and he ties a makeshift blindfold over them before tossing you onto the bed.

You hear the sound of zips and buckles being undone, his armour falling to the ground with soft thuds and then he’s tearing your clothes off next.

It’s easy when he does so, the material easily succumbing to his strength before the ruins of what you called your suit on the floor with his armour.

His hand dipped low on your body, right in between your legs, pushing them apart with his knees. He groaned lowly, into the quiet room when he felt how wet you were, slick glistening on his fingers.

“Stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh?” His finger pushed through your folds right into you without warning.

“C’mon Ma, wanna hear you.” He muttered low and gruff as he slowly fingered you. You whined as he sped up, slipping another finger in, and then another, moving them quickly to the point you had trouble breathing.

Heard falling back into the sheets and your hand came down to push his hand away but Jason was relentless.

“Breathe through your nose, sweetheart. You can take i know you can.”

You came a minute later, gushing all over his fingers with a pretty high pitched moan, his hips rutting against your ass. He pulled his fingers from you, sucking them clean from what you could tell when you heard a soft pop.

“Ready for the real thing, baby?” He taunted, sliding his fat head up and down through your folds, teasingly.

“You wanted me to fuck you like I hate you?” He asked, not waiting for much of an answer before he slowly rolled his hips forward, his thick cock pushing into you slowly until he reached the hilt with a groan. “You feel like heaven, ma.”

“Heaven, and you’re all mine now. My pretty little doll.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[yanderecxre]

Yandere!Retired Colonel headcanons

You only knew him by his nickname, "Saint", beyond that you knew nothing about him. But oh, did he know everything about you.

You, sweet and young, fresh outta college and working at the base he was stationed at before he decided to retire. You who took care of the daycare on base, who didn't even bat an eye at the insanity that the children you took care of looked like.

Saint even adopted a kid from the dumb program just to have an excuse to talk and see you, little Henry was a pain in the ass, literally and figuratively. The brat always clung to you, crying he didn't wanna go home. Making Saint look like a terrible grandfather. "Listen here you little brat, I'm trying to make sure they can't just up and leave, so start acting like I'm the greatest grandfather alive before you scare them off!"

Sweet, young bleeding heart little you. Always talking and smiling at him like he's some regular guy and not a powerful Colonel who could (and would if you ever tempted or forced his hand) ruin your budding little career before the hour ended. Of course though he'd never do that, not with how often he sees you now, at drop off, pick up, sometimes you ask guardians to help around the daycare, he's there every time.

Saint, who once he decides you're his, immediately gets to work implementing himself in your life, both personal and professional. Using little Henry as an excuse, poor boy getting used as an excuse for why the two ran into you everywhere you seemed to go. "Oh, hello Henry, Saint! What brings you two to the library?" You smile and ask as you hold a small stack of books, unaware that Saint was scanning the titles so he could ask you next time which was your favorite. Saint smiles and holds Henry's shoulder, laughing slightly. "Poor boy practically cried and threw a fit demanding we come to the library because he wanted to read and play in the kids section!" You were far too busy to see Henry glaring at Saint, his eyes darkening as you smiled and talked to him.

Saint, who finally asks you out on a proper date (you don't know of course that the date will be your last in a while, he already has your room set up in his cabin. Henry helped him pick everything out, the kid loved you too much to let his idiot of a grandfather make you feel unhappy.) When you accepted he smiled and offered to pick you up, you spent the rest of the day smiling and giggling as Henry clung to your leg pouting.

That night, you had a lovely date, perfect in every way, Saint was the perfect gentleman. Letting you order whatever you wanted and asking about your interests and life. He even insisted you call him by his actual name, Nicolas. He loved the way it rolled off your tongue, could only imagine you moaning and whimpering it as he went down on you later on-

You felt woozy during the last bit of the date, had you drank more than you thought, no way... you couldn't have, you looked up over at him, Saint looked perfectly fine, not like you. You stumbled slightly out your seat, he was there, holding you steady. "Oh dear, poor thing, let's get you home yeah sweetheart? You had lots to drink, I'll get your dessert to go." He murmured in your ear, holding you closely to his side his large hand firmly on your hip, keeping you near him.

The last thing you remember before passing out was Saint, helping you to his car. Hand on your hips as he assured you everything was alright, that you were just tipsy. Something in his voice made you feel weird but it got overshadowed by your head muddling as you whimpered softly and promptly passed out. You never knew that he drugged you, he wasn't a monster. He just needed you woozy enough to get you to his cabin.

"Don't look at me like that little brat, they're just unconscious. What? You gonna sleep by their bedside to protect their virtue?" "Yeah, because I don't trust you, grandfather." "You little fucker- Jesus! Did you just bite me?!"

[les4elliewilliams]

Syrup.

making pancakes with Ellie ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

cw/wc: 3.5k ! loser!ellie, dry humping, fingering + oral (e!receiving), kind of sub!ellie? oilin' her up 'cause pretty girls deserve special treatment. [not really mentioned because I rushed it towards the end.]

!!mdni!!

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

Skipping classes with Ellie usually meant sleeping in and cuddling the whole morning, basking in the soft glow of your favorite movie or TV show. But not when she was ovulating and going feral over you. Ellie was perfect, such a fucking good girlfriend, never pressuring you into anything you didn’t feel like doing—but there were times when all you needed to do was hide from her. Especially when she was ovulating, it was as if she were reliving the raging hormones of puberty all over again.

What kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t help your girl when she most needed you? Letting her ride your fingers whenever she needed, her moans filling the room as you praised her sweetly, or letting her sit on your face for an hour straight until her body couldn’t take it anymore and you could barely breathe. You didn’t mind; in fact, you loved it.

She tasted so fucking good, and knowing she had gotten all wet over something as simple as a few words you’d said or some dumb shit she found utterly irresistible—even when you thought it was stupid—only made it better.

That particular morning, she woke up much earlier than you, her body already humming with need. The poor loser tried to wake you up for cuddles before classes, something you usually did daily before parting ways, but you didn’t budge. Her soft whispers and gentle shakes eventually turned into hungry kisses and wandering hands. Her breath was hot against your ear as she murmured how much she needed you, her fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. 

But you still shooed her away, “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, but five minutes turned into an hour and then two. You were so sleep-deprived, burning the midnight oil on your schoolwork, that you wouldn’t even hear your alarm in the morning if it weren’t for Ellie. Patiently, she took time out of her morning to shake you like a cocktail until you finally woke up.

You could hear her sigh and huff, shifting around uncomfortably, perhaps bored. “So, you don’t want cuddles before class?” she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. But you ignored her, too exhausted to respond. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, slipping into a slightly pissy mood because you pushed her away every time she wrapped her arms around you and planted soft kisses on your neck to rouse or wake you.

“Ellie,” you grumbled, still half-asleep, “Let me sleep.”

“Wake upppp,” she drawled into the crook of your neck, her warm breath caressing your soft skin. “I wanna cuddle,” she repeated, pouting, though you couldn’t see it because your eyes remained stubbornly closed. Her desperation and neediness grew as she clung to you.

“Nooo—’s too hot for that,” you whined, scooting away from your girlfriend once again.

When you finally woke up on your own and suggested skipping classes together, she was more than excited at the idea. Of course, she didn’t complain. Why would she when she’d get to spend the whole morning with you?

Let’s say she had different intentions from yours. While you just wanted to sleep in and spend the whole day in your cozy apartment to relax, she stayed home with you hoping for morning sex—but she didn’t get it.

“Skip classes? Fuck yeah, I’m in,” she exclaimed excitedly, her arm hooking around your waist to drag you closer to her. “There are maaany more fun things we could do instead...” Her voice shifted from excited to teasingly sultry, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Hmm... like what?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, I could give you a massage,” she whispered, planting soft kisses into the crook of your neck, making their way up to your jawline. “Or we could make pancakes.”

She was a little disappointed when you picked pancakes over a massage, but you were so hungry that you didn’t even notice. You padded to the kitchen with her walking closely behind, her green eyes glued to your ass as she let out a sigh. 

She was starving. 

Ellie was usually never that blunt when it came to these kinds of things. You’d usually pick up on her body language, or she’d let you know subtly, always careful not to make you feel pressured. She was a gentlewoman, after all.

“Get the flour and the eggs. I’ll get the rest.” You instructed her quickly, bringing her back to reality and pulling her out of her thoughts. She quietly complied, gathering all the necessary ingredients and placing them on the white countertop in front of her. Meanwhile, you grabbed a bowl from one of the nearby cabinets.

“Okay,” You scooped up a handful of the fine white powder, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth surface as you measured the exact amount needed. The powdery substance was light and fluffy, and its scent was faintly sweet as you poured it into the bowl. “Dry ingredients first,” you said out loud, mostly speaking to yourself. 

You’ve always been terrible in the kitchen, managing to burn everything you touched or getting the ingredients completely wrong. Thankfully, Ellie had been there to help you improve over the years, guiding you through the basics and teaching you little tricks to make your cooking less disastrous. 

“Mhm,” she hummed back almost proudly. You could feel her presence lingering behind you, her breath warm against your neck. Her hands rested on your hips, fingers tracing small, lazy circles. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, each touch sending a shiver down your spine. You could sense her frustration; her body pressed a little closer, making her need evident in every movement. 

You started by pouring the powders into the bowl, but as you did, she began to tease you, planting soft, innocent kisses on all your sweet spots, making your breath hitch each time her lips met your skin. 

“And then we add the wet ones…” 

“Yeah, I know, I remember,” you said casually, trying to focus on mixing the different powders in the bowl. But Ellie’s attentions made concentrating difficult, her teasing kisses and soft touches getting the desired effect; she knew what she was doing.

“Can’t wait to taste your syrup on my tongue.” Her whispered words made your breath catch in your throat, and your stirring motions slowed in response. Her mouth was right by your ear, her breath warm and teasing against your flesh. 

“Ellie.” With a frustrated huff, you scolded her, your wispy brows furrowing together as you tried to appear stern. You could feel her lips twitching in satisfaction at your reaction against your epidermis.

“What?” she asked, her voice full of false innocence. She pulled away from your neck, resting her chin on your shoulder as she watched you work on the pancake mix. “I meant the syrup that comes with pancakes.” Her voice shifted back to its usual playful tone as she spoke, her words casual and light-hearted. Her hands rested gently on your hips as she leaned against you from behind.

“Yeah, obviously.” You responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes at her comment. But you couldn’t help but suppress a small smirk that threatened to form on your face, grateful she couldn’t see your expression.

“We’ve gotta mix the dry and wet together, and then we’ve got the perfect…consistency,” The last word was an alluring melody whispered directly into your ear, her soft lips brushing against your neck ever so gently. One of her arms moved from your waist, her fingers trailing softly along your arm until they wrapped around the handle of the whisk in your hand, bringing your motion to a halt.

More kisses were pressed to the side of your neck, making you tilt your head to give her better access. Her tattooed arm was still wrapped around your waist, holding you close and rocking you slightly from side to side.

“Hmm—you’re distracting me.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly, surrendering to her damp smooches and touches. Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you felt your body melt like butter against hers, your muscles relaxing in response to her gentle ministrations.

“Still want to make pancakes instead of getting that massage? ’m good with my hands, y’know.” Her husky voice was like silk in your ear, rich and smooth. Every word that left her lips was soothing and comforting, her tone gentle and seductive, making your heart skip a beat. “You might need my touch more than you think…” Her hips ground gently against the plushness of your ass, a subtle motion that made your clit twitch. 

You could feel the heat of her body pressing against you from behind as she continued to kiss and nibble on your neck. The sensation was soothing and arousing, making you lean into her embrace, your eyes closing blissfully as you surrendered to her attention. Lost in her kisses and nibbles on your neck, you suddenly remembered the pancakes you were mixing,

The whisk still clutched in your hand. With a reluctant huff, you shook yourself back to reality, forcing yourself out of the trance she had put you in.

“You’re such a fucking horndog.” you jokingly chided her, swatting at her hand as it crept toward your chest, but truth be told, you loved the attention. It was comforting knowing how much she wanted you, how much she needed you.

“Like you’re any better,” She let out an exaggerated scoff, her hand returned to your waist, joining the other one. 

You added eggs and milk, intently stirring and mixing the pancake batter, when you suddenly felt her grind against you again. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and almost instinctively, you pushed your ass slightly into her, making her breath hitch.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her hands gripping your hips as she guided your ass against her crotch.

“We’re supposed to be making pancakes,” you mumbled incoherently, letting her use your body to get off.

Ellie’s hands roamed your body with a growing urgency, her touch both gentle and demanding. She pressed herself closer, her breath hot against the back of your neck, the mixing bowl almost forgotten in your hands.

“But you feel so good,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, sending waves of desire coursing through your very core. Her lips brushed against your ear, planting soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist. “And I’m hungry for something else,” she purred, her cold hands slipping under your shirt, her touch making your nipples harden almost immediately. She moved against you, her hips creating a rhythm that left you yearning for more.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the bowl in your hands, you found yourself pressing into her embrace, “Ellie,” you uttered, barely recognizing your own voice, “we should really  finish making breakfast.”

She scoffed, her voice tinged with a playful defensiveness. “You’re the one pushing your butt into me like a cat in heat!” Her breath was already starting to come in labored gasps. Her cheeks were a beautiful sight, flushed with a delicate rosy pink hue that complemented her complexion, although hidden from your view.

“That’s because you sound pretty,” you argued with a pout on your face, making her whimper at your words. She was so sensitive it was ridiculous; she could feel herself getting wetter with each passing moment, the dampness in her boxers becoming impossible to ignore. Your ass pushed into her again, intensifying her need.

“And I’m the distracting one?” she quipped, her breath catching. “God, you’re just as distracting.” She added, her head dropping onto your shoulder as she continued to roll her hips against you, her hands squeezing your boobs from underneath her your shirt.

You snorted at her words and at the whole situation, finding it amusing. “What’s gotten into you today? You woke up horny or something?” you taunted her, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though the answer was obvious.

“You’ve got me all riled up,” she mumbled softly, a groan slipping past her plump lips. Her rough hands pushed your ass further into her as she began to suck purple marks on your neck, her eyes closing as her movements became more desperate and rushed.

“You’re a fucking loser, El,” you teased her, yet still letting her do as she pleased with your body. 

Her whimpers turned into soft mewls as she ground against you, the friction sending jolts through her and making your pussy ache agonizingly. Her breath felt like the sea breeze against your skin; her soft lips left a trail of moist, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. She was losing herself in the moment, her body responding to every push and pull, every tease and taunt. Ellie’s hands roamed all over your body, her fingers digging into your flesh as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“Need you right here, baby.” She uttered as she guided your hips, her breath hot and ragged as she pressed her forehead against your shoulder. The fabric of her boxers clung to her wet folds, every movement making the dampness more pronounced. It was as if her walls were pulsing your name in Morse code, each beat a desperate plea for you, for your fingers. “God… feels so good.” her voice barely a whisper.

“Does it?” Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you with a desperate urgency that made your pulse race and your head spin. The smooth and unyielding countertop offered a reassuring stability for the both of you as you leaned into it, your fingers splayed wide, seeking purchase on the slick surface. Her movements were frantic. The dampness of her boxers pressed against your unfortunately still-clothed ass, and you could feel your own slickness seeping through. 

“Yeah… so… so good,” she breathed out, humping against the fat of your butt as she held you tightly in place, afraid that you might vanish at any moment. “My brain stops working around you.” You could feel her body tensing against you, her movements becoming more erratic and rushed as her orgasm approached.

“Does that little brain of yours ever work?” you shot back, a sly smirk playing on your lips—one she couldn’t see, but knowing you, she could sense it. She hated how easily you could turn her into this desperate, needy creature, and she hated even more how you always made fun of her when she got this weak for you.

“I swear to-” She released a frustrated huff, her voice strained and tinged with annoyance as she spoke through clenched teeth. Her nails dig into the soft skin of your hips, leaving imprints of crescent moons behind.

Her reaction only fueled your playful cruelty. “Aww… what? Is my baby mad?” you crooned, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So fucking pathetic.” you hissed.

“Shut up,” she muttered quietly, her voice low and uneven, her clit throbbing madly at each word that came out of your mouth, “I’m-’m close,” she whimpered into your ear, burying her face between your neck and shoulder, feeling the cold tip of her freckled nose press against your skin.

“That’s it? Gonna cum in your boxers from a little friction?” you chuckled, her grasp tightening on your hips, your eyes darting to the bowl of pancake batter, lying there, forgotten and abandoned.

At your small chuckle, her head rose from your shoulder, and she shot you a look that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t turned your head ever so slightly at her sudden shift in position. She gazed intently at you, her brows drawn together in a slight frown. Her mesmerizing green crystalline eyes seemed unusually dark, while a rosy flush adorned her face.

“What are you… what are you gonna do about it?” A valiant effort was made to gather her composure, but her attempts were in vain as she struggled to stifle the whimpers that involuntarily slipped from her trembling lips. The muscles in her abdomen tensed beneath the gentle fabric of the oversized shirt.

“Hmm… I could move and not let you finish.”

Ellie let out a shaky exhale at your playful threat, her pace becoming desperate, and she could feel her legs starting to give up. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, trying to sound intimidating.

You smirked at her words and slowly moved away from her grasp, making her whine like a lost puppy.

“No, no, no,” she repeated frantically, her mind and body instantly going into panic mode as she reached for your arm again, yanking your body back against her. “Please, please, I’m so sorry. So sorry,” she muttered out a series of apologies and sweet nothings, kissing your neck pleadingly, trying to get what she wanted.

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, a taunting chuckle slipping away as you edged just out of reach of your girlfriend’s frantic kisses. Her kisses, fervent and pleading, missed their mark, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the power you held over her at that moment. You had her wrapped around your fingers when all she wanted was to ride your fingers. 

“Only good girls get to cum,” she groaned at your words, “Now, how ’bout you help me make pancakes?” Your question was accompanied by a lively and playful tone, which starkly contrasted her frustrated mood. Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you gazed at her, fully aware of the turmoil you were causing within her and enjoying every second of it. She was desperate for touch, for release, but you denied it to her. So fucking cruel.

Ellie looked at you through dark, full lashes, her face a canvas of desperate need, adorned with a constellation of freckles that dusted her pale skin. “Whatever, be that way,” She grumbled and scowled as she moved out of your personal space, giving you attitude.

“Get to work, slave,” You joked, watching her saunter over to the stove. She turned the fire on, her movements smooth and practiced as she reached for the pan, the soft clatter of metal on metal filling the kitchen. As she poured some oil, its golden stream glistening in the morning light, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what was to come.

In your mind’s eye, you saw her back on your bed, her skin slick and glistening, her breath coming in quick, heated pants as she begged you to fuck her hard, just as she needed.

The thought of her beneath you, oiled up and ready for you, brought a sly grin to your face and a flutter in your pussy stomach.

Breakfast was just the beginning, after all.

She gave you a constant onslaught of attitude throughout the breakfast. She pouted and glowered, her sour mood a bitter blend of disappointment and indignation. Occasionally, she huffed or muttered something under her breath, her annoyance growing with each passing moment. She gobbled down the fluffy pancakes as she shot you glares. Poor thing, all flustered and needy, sitting there, denied of something she craved so desperately.

It was more than obvious that you would satisfy her urgent needs right after satisfying your own appetite. After all, you were starving and would need all the energy you could get for the intense workout in store for the two of you. 

You pulled as many moans and gasps from her as you could, your manicured nails slipping on the soft, slippery skin of her thighs as you eagerly lapped at her folds.

You kept taking and taking, relentless and insatiable. Ellie was a fucked-out mess, babbling nonsense as she teetered on the edge of yet another release. You were fucking her dumb, and you weren’t even close to being finished with her.

“Another one, Els. C’mon, be a good girl for me,” you pleaded with a breathy voice, coaxing her with every word until she gave you precisely what you wanted. She was that good of a slut for you, and you loved every second of it. 

“I know, babe,” you cooed sweetly, your fingers knuckles-deep inside her, her moist and abused walls pulsing around them.

She was a whiny mess, squirming so much that you had to pin her down, her teeth harshly biting her bottom lip, her green eyes teary from the overwhelming pleasure you were giving her. “I know, I know- but it’s gonna make you feel better,” you murmured, knowing her mind was too far gone to focus on your words.

“Just need to cum on my fingers, ’s all.” and all she needed to do was just lay there and take it. Take what she had wished for the whole morning like a needy brat.

Only after about ten orgasms did you decide it was time to let your poor girlfriend recover. Her skin was flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened in the golden light that tiptoed through the window, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her whole body trembled like a leaf, and the sheets beneath her were damp, ready to be thrown into the washing machine. Your thumb trailed down her happy auburn trail, her bush glistening with her own juices; her pearlescent sweetness dripping down onto the mattress, just like syrup.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

[miss-jaye]

monoma hasn’t let go of you since you showed him the sundress you’re wearing.

“neito? honey, i gotta change…” you said with a nervous laugh, trying to gently pry his arms off you. but he just shook his head, his grip tightening slightly. “no.”

you sighed. “what do you mean, no?” you asked, your voice tinged with exasperation. he looked up at you, his face completely blank, but his eyes held a stubborn glint. “no.”

you groaned, letting your head fall back against the arm of the couch where you’d been trapped for the past two hours. “baby, please,” you pleaded, your voice softening as you tried to coax him. you wanted nothing more than to slip into something comfortable and start on dinner.

“let me appreciate you for one more hour,” he murmured, his voice low and soft, savoring every second of having you so close.

“nooo…!” you huffed, feeling your patience wearing thin. “you already did that for two hours, neito.” he just shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “i can do it for another,” he teased, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting.

“neito!” you whined, but there was no real heat behind it. despite your protests, you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was being, even if it was a little over the top.

he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze, his expression softening into something almost vulnerable. “you’re nothing less than perfect, my dear,” monoma said, his voice filled with so much sincerity that it made your heart skip a beat.

“neito,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you searched for the right response. but what could you say when he looked at you like that, as if you were the only thing that mattered?

he smiled softly, sensing your shift in mood. “just stay here with me a little longer,” he murmured, his thumb gently tracing circles on your arm. “dinner can wait.”

you sighed in defeat, “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“maybe,” your husband chuckled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “but i’m not letting go. not yet.”

you couldn’t help but smile. what was one more hour?

“fine,” you gave in with a soft laugh. “but after this, you’re helping me with dinner.”

“deal,” he agreed easily, clearly pleased that you gave in.

after a while, you felt his breathing slow, his body relaxing more against yours. “neito?” you whispered, glancing down to find his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face.

“just resting my eyes,” he mumbled, though the way he clung to you told a different story.

you smiled fondly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “i love you, you know that?”

monoma's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you with a sleepy smile. “i love you too. more than anything.”

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous. 

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf. 

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

---------------------------

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@cruelmissdior

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@angelbabyange

@eternallyvenus

@sgt-barnesveins

@kmc1989

@libbyaller

[hier--soir]

bite the bullet

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two idiots finally bite the bullet and admit how they feel. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, age gap [20 years], angst, miscommunication, a meddling Tommy Miller, soft sleepy sex, oral [f], unprotected piv, masturbation [f], rimming, sixty-nine, both of them are assholes for a minute, resolved emotional tension. word count: 9.4k [i got carried away sorry!] series masterlist | masterlist this is part four of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, three.

Everything was wet.

Your feet squelched against the ground as you moved, little flicks of water splashing up against your shins with every step. Inside waterlogged shoes your socks clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Tommy was crouched underneath your sink, inspecting the u-bend of the pipe there, his lower half damp from the water that covered the floor of your kitchen.

“It’s definitely comin’ from in here,” his muffled voice came, and you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face in exasperation. “I can stop it, but it’s gonna take some time for the place to dry out. I’d say you’d better clear out for a few days, leave a few windows open.”

You’d had a nice day. A lovely day, even. And you’d been looking forward to curling up with a whiskey and a good book before bed. But upon returning home from the greenhouse, you’d been horrified to find the entrance of your home covered in a thin layer of water. Splashing down the hall, you’d discovered that the entire place was wet; a shiny film of liquid coating anything that touched the ground. The wooden floorboards were soaked to the bone with cold water. A fucking flood. Thankfully Tommy was right, and you trusted that the August humidity would naturally dry it out with enough time.

“I can’t just stay here? I didn’t think it was too bad,” you lied. “Could lay down some towels.”

Tommy laughed under the sink. “You know you’ll get sick if you’re sleeping around all this water – towels or no towels.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, gazing at the floor glumly. “Okay, yeah, I suppose I’ll uh… I’ll get some stuff together.”

“Joel would take you,” his said, and you snapped back to reality, staring at his back while he worked. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. When you didn’t respond, his head reappeared, and he looked at you curiously, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. “You and Joel are pals, right? Pals help each other out.”

Pals, you thought cynically. That’s one word for it.

Two weeks had slowly passed since the Peterson incident, and you’d only seen Tommy’s older brother a handful of times. There was still a tense energy between the two of you, so you’d been keeping your distance a little, allowing things to cool off. Bumping into each other here and there, dinner on the same table at the hall… but no alone time. No real time that would leave you two open to actually talking about it. That didn’t mean it didn’t play on your mind, though. Oh boy did it. In fact, most days you’d catch yourself gazing into a pot plant, thinking about that night. The way he’d taken you, made you tell him the details about Peterson, the way he’d showed you he fucking owned you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the way it had made you feel, and so you avoided it, even though your chest ached with the Joel-sized hole his absence had left in it. At least you weren’t so stubborn that you couldn’t admit to yourself how much you missed him.   

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Tommy gave a polite shrug, smirking at you. Testing you. A huff escaped your lips, and you broke eye contact, stretching out your shoulder. “Yeah, alright, I’ll ask him,” you agreed begrudgingly, brain whirring trying to come up with excuses. “It’s late though, and he might not want me there.”

“It’s not that late, but sure,” he chuckled knowingly, going back to work on the pipe. “When hell freezes over and Joel says no to you, you let me know.”  

An hour later, you were on your best friend’s porch, a bag slung over your arm, hesitating with your knuckle raised in the air. Taking a deep breath and running through what you were going to say, you finally willed yourself to rap your fist twice against the wood.

After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Joel, in a soft wrinkled t-shirt.

An easy, involuntary smile spread across your face upon seeing him. His beard was a little longer than he usually kept it, greys sparkling through the dark hair that framed his mouth so handsomely. He had clearly been settling down for the night, and he looked oh so cosy dressed in his sleep clothes.

“Hey man,” you offered up a sheepish smile.

He looked appropriately surprised to see you, considering you certainly hadn’t been knocking on his door at any point in the past fortnight. One of his eyebrows hitched upward, and he eyed the bag over your shoulder warily. “You skippin’ town or something? Who’d you piss off this time?”

You rolled your eyes and readjusted the duffel. “You gonna let me inside? This thing’s kind of heavy.”

He stepped back into the entryway with a grunt, allowing you to breeze past him and dump the bag onto the ground with a low thud. “Pipe under my sink is busted. Flooded the whole place today – Tommy said I should clear out for a day or two.”

He hummed, narrowed eyes raking over your face. “Oh yeah? So where you gonna go?” he teased, and relief rushed through your veins like warm water as you recognised the smirk threatening to take over his face.  

You gave him a small laugh and sighed, holding your arms out in mock surrender. “Come on, Miller,” you said. “Let me crash here – I’ll owe you one.”

“Owe me one, huh?” his eyes shone with mischief. “Well I like the sound of that.” An odd, twisting sensation rippled through your stomach and you sucked your lips into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Sure,” you retorted. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” When the words left your lips you both stilled, staring at each other warily.

He hummed, eyes darkening a fraction. “You’re playin’ with fire,” is all he said, before bending down to pick the bag up off the ground and ushering you towards the stairs.

You wondered off ahead of him, and when you reached the landing you veered right, pushing open the door to the spare room. He didn’t follow you in immediately, instead pausing in the doorway with a frown plastered across his face. You hadn’t thought about where you’d be sleeping until the second you reached the top of the stairs, but you knew this was the right decision. Sharing a bed with Joel for a few days? Probably not a good idea. Unless of course, that was going to be how you repaid your debt…Thankfully, or unfortunately, he didn’t push it, dropping the bag gently in the corner of the room.

“Hope Ellie won’t be bothered I’m here for a few days,” you thought aloud. The tone noticeably shifted, and you almost at how Joel seemed to deflate.  

He leant an arm against the doorframe and sighed. “She ain’t spendin’ much time in the house these days,” he admitted quietly. “Stays in the bungalow or goes out. I doubt you’ll even see her.”

You hesitated for a second before asking, “Have you two spoken much lately?”

He scratched his chin for a moment. “You know the kid,” he shrugged. “She’s stubborn. M’tryin’ not to push it.” 

“It’ll be okay, Joel,” you offered softly. “She’ll come around.”

He assessed you silently, eyes flitting down your body before resting on your face once again, and then he stepped back into the hall. Coughing awkwardly, he raised a hand in a sort of farewell, and said, “Well, uh, you know where everything is. I’m gonna… I was gonna head to bed, I guess.”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching as he turned to head toward his room.

“Hey, Joel, wait,” you called, and he turned, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite place. I miss you, you wanted to say. I miss you, and I’m sorry things are off between us, and I wish we could forget it all and go back to normal, and I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. “Thank you,” you said instead, voice soft. “I really appreciate this.”

The look in his eyes dimmed a little but he offered up a smile. He nodded once, said, “Glad to have you here,” and then closed his bedroom door, and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After showering and unpacking the few things you brought along, you curled up in the foreign bed. The mattress was soft enough though, and the sheets smelled like the soap Joel used. Your body ached from a long day of work, muscles tense and wired from hauling heavy pots around under the sun. Soon enough, you began to relax enough to drift off to sleep. Only a few hours into the night though, your dreams were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps padding across the landing. A beam of soft yellow light was shone into the room, painting the inside of your eyelids orange. Cracking an eye open, you saw that the door was ajar, and a tall figure was peering in.

“Joel?” you asked groggily, dragging a knuckle over your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” his deep voice came, but he made no move to enter the room. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” he said softly, and your heart clenched.

Pulling the blankets open on the empty side of the bed, you didn’t even think before you said, “Get in.”

Your head fell heavily into the pillows, and sleep tried to pull you back under as you listened to Joel shuffle across the room and slide into the bed beside you. For a moment, he just laid there, a sizeable gap between you on the mattress. And then his warm, firm body was pressing up against your back, his large palm sliding over your hip to rest on your stomach and guide you back against his chest. His scent overwhelmed you, hints of mint and soap and pine tickling your nose, and fuck you had missed him. it was so familiar, and yet your body tingled as if it was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on you. Through the haze that settled over your sleep addled brain, you could feel him, stiff against your thigh.

“Jesus,” you teased drowsily, throwing caution to the wind by rubbing yourself back against him. “Were you having a dream about me or something?”

His nose traced a long down the back of your neck and you fought off a shiver. “Always dream about you.” If you weren’t so tired, that probably would’ve garnered a bigger reaction from you. But as it were, you just brought a hand down to rest over his on your stomach and gripped his fingers softly. “Was thinkin’ bout you being so close, yet still so far. Just down the hall, sleepin’ in my sheets…”

You hummed, warmth flooding your abdomen as he nudged his hips forward, rutting himself against you. His hand drifted out from under yours to slide up underneath your shirt, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your breast.

“Joel,” you murmured, eyelids heavy.

He hummed eagerly, planting a soft kiss underneath your ear.

“I‘m so tired,” you said regretfully. “It’s been a long day – can hardly keep m’eyes open.”

“Let me help you fall asleep,” is all he said, hand now freely roaming over your chest. His thumb lightly brushed the firm peak of your nipple and your whole body shuddered. “Just relax.”

You were vaguely aware of him pulling the covers off you and moving down the bed, dragging soft kisses down your stomach, before dragging your underwear down your legs. Slumping into the soft bed, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

Gentle, reverent kisses were pressed over your hip bones as he settled between your legs, pulling one of your thighs up to rest over his shoulder. His long fingers rubbed over the muscles in your leg, pressing down gently when he found knots, pulling deep sighs of contentment out of you.  

“That feels nice,” you whispered into the darkness, and you could’ve sworn you felt him grin against your hip.

When his nose dragged through the dark hair on your mound you twitched slightly, body waking up a little at the sensation. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and you relaxed again, humming lowly as his pressed a kiss against the inner most point of your thigh.

It felt like hours passed with him between your legs. At first you allowed yourself to slip in and out of near sleep, eyes closed as lax puffs of air escaped your mouth while his tongue dipped gently between your folds, giving you soft lazy strokes that warmed your insides. When the first bit of slick began to seep out of you, he groaned gratefully, licking and sucking at your entrance, exulting in your taste.  

It felt like you were dreaming. Laying pliant on the bed, you were fully at his mercy, allowing him to move your legs anyway he wanted to give himself better access. You could vaguely hear him murmuring against your skin, but couldn’t make out the words over your own sighs, smiling sleepily as his tongue lapped against you. He worked slowly, and you realised that it was as much for his enjoyment as it was for your own. You knew by that point how much Joel enjoyed going down on you. He had told you as much on multiple occasions; how he’d love to spend hours with his face trapped between your thighs. But he’d never had the chance, or the patience, to really do it.

The sounds of his enjoyment vibrated against your core, echoing through the room around you. The way he fucking moaned into your cunt never failed to drive you crazy, but in that moment you just smiled at the sound, enjoying how peaceful it was, how sweet.

Every now and then you’d lazily blink your eyes open and look down, expecting that at any moment he’d pull away, be over it. But he never did. Every time you looked his eyes were closed, hands gripping your thighs softly, thumbs stroking rhythmically against your skin as content breaths rushed out of his nose, and you’d close your eyes again, the dark image of him scorched into the inside of your eyelids, never to be forgotten.

You started to feel more awake when he finally gave his undivided attention to the achingly sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your core. Moving painfully slow, he glided his firm tongue across your clit, switching it up between swiping back and forth across it and then circling it.

“Oh,” you murmured lowly, voice hoarse from lack of use, but you couldn’t help the soft exclamation as your hips shifted upwards, suddenly searching for more. He didn’t change a thing, pace never increasing or slowing down, and it was perfect.

Your orgasm washed over you in gentle waves. Joel’s tongue swirled slow, gentle circles around your clit and your thighs tensed around his head, fingers reaching down to softly rake through his curls. He hummed happily, tongue lathing against you, enjoying every second of your release. Only pausing once your body stopped twitching and the muscles in your thighs relaxed against him, before kissing way up your stomach, your neck, under he was holding himself over you.

Eyes still closed, your hands drifted to the back of his neck and you pulled him down, his weight crushing against you but you didn’t care. Yours lips met tentatively, and for a moment that was all it was. A soft, gentle kiss. And then you felt him, straining against his briefs, pressed between your thighs, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. It was messy and slow, tongues tangling together, teeth knocking awkwardly, and you found yourself smiling into his mouth. It should have unnerved you. Should’ve been enough to make you stop, turn your head away and make him fuck you rough so you would forget how intensely intimate the moment felt. But you didn’t.

“You should sleep,” he murmured against your lips, pulling his hips back a little so his erection wasn’t so obvious.

“You should come inside me,” you whispered back, reaching down to grip the band of his underwear and tug them down over his hips. He groaned and kissed you again before reaching down to free himself from the confines of his underwear.  

No other words were exchanged as he adjusted himself, and then he was pressing into you, his needy moans spilling out against your neck while your hand snuck underneath his shirt, fingernails gliding down his back as he filled you completely.

“God, I missed you,” he choked out, voice cracking. You whimpered softly. “You’re so wet.”

“Made me feel so good, Joel,” you preened, kissing the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he pulled his face out of your neck to look at you, and you nodded, staring at him through bleary eyes. Joel kissed you again. A long, yearning kiss that made your heart throb, and it didn’t take long until he was falling apart on top of you, shaking against your arms that wrapped around him, held him against your chest. You whispered praises in his ear as he came, hips grinding into yours, pushing himself so deep inside that it had you gasping into his mouth. It was so unlike any other time you’d ever slept with him, and alarm bells rang somewhere far in the deep recess of your brain, but you ignored them. You’d missed each other, and you’d both earned a little softness after the time apart. And so the two of you fell asleep like that; tangled in each other’s arms, with him still inside you.

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. The light was harsh, and you cursed yourself for going to sleep without drawing the curtains. You went to sit up in the bed but stopped suddenly, realising how hot you were. With a soft start, you glanced down and understanding jolted through you like a flash of lightning. Joel’s house, you remembered; you were at Joel’s house. But what you hadn’t expected to find was Joel still in the bed, arms coiled around you like wire while he snored quietly in your ear. For as many times the two of you had slept together, neither of you had ever slept over. It was an unspoken rule, and one that had never been difficult to follow. But he’d broken it… or you’d both broken it, maybe. Keeping your body as still as possible, you found yourself breathing deeply, trying to maintain the allusion of still being asleep to avoid rousing him from his slumber. Frustratingly, your heart pounded in your chest, brain zeroing in on every part of your body that touched his.

His soft lips brushed the back of your neck, heavy breaths puffing against your skin. A solid knee was wedged between your legs, one hand lazily gripping your breast. The insides of your thighs were sticky where his come had leaked out of you overnight, and your eyes widened at the sensation. 

What surprised you the most wasn’t that you didn’t hate waking up with him beside you. No, what surprised you most was that you did like it. In fact, you found yourself longing to relax into his arms and go back to sleep. But common sense reared its head, and you slowly slipped out of his grasp, moving slowly so as not to wake him while you dragged yourself out of the bed. Staring down at Joel, a pang of fondness rush through your chest. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead, plump lips pushed out into a pout as he breathed deeply, hand resting on the empty bed where you had just laid. His breathing hitched momentarily, and you froze, realising how odd it would be for him to wake up and catch you standing there naked, staring. Trying not to give it another thought, you quietly collected some clothes from your bag, and slipped out of the room to start your day.

Hours passed in the greenhouse. You distracted yourself with cucumber seeds and tomato plants, pushing Joel out of your mind as you worked under the sweltering sun. Underneath the glass roof of the nursery, the heat multiplied, and by the time your shift was over you were covered in sweat, shirt ticking uncomfortably tight to your back. You stopped by at the community hall for dinner and ate alone, your brain a whirlwind of thoughts of Joel, Joel, Joel. You couldn’t shake the feeling that had lingered in your bones all day; the aching desire to have stayed in bed with him, to have relaxed into his arms and cuddled him for the rest of the morning. Your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

“Christ,” you mumbled aloud through a mouthful of food, rolling your eyes at yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy, but the worst part was understanding that this must’ve been how he’d been feeling for weeks already.

I’ve never asked you for anything. Not for anything more than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.

That’s what he’d said, two weeks ago, the day he found out about Peterson. The words played in your head like a mantra. Words that you had firmly avoided bringing up, ones you’d never pushed for an explanation about. You’d chosen to sweep them under the rug, and yet, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t fucking forget them.

By the time you returned to his house you discovered him sitting on the couch downstairs, engrossed in a book. It was the picture of domesticity. The sweet scent of vanilla floated through the air towards you, and you noted the small candle burning on the table beside him.

Staying in Joel’s home, even for just one night, you’d noticed so much more about it than ever before. There was something interesting to look at everywhere you turned, and sweet-scented candles were just the tip of the iceberg. He left random objects littered across countertops, like little treasures for you to stop and inspect during your travels throughout the house. Wood that he’d whittled into interesting shapes, books that he’d read the first few pages of and then abandoned, countless mugs in odd places with dark brown coffee stains at the bottom of them. It was homey, and warm, and subconsciously you found yourself enjoying the insight into his most private space – into the things he did when he was truly alone.

Joel hadn’t noticed you come in, so you seized the opportunity to watch him from the doorway for a moment. He was wearing his comfortable clothes again, and a thin set of reading glasses were perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. A quick flash of heat tore through your stomach. You’d never seen him wear those before, and it had you stumped. The glasses, paired with the salt and pepper through his beard and hair, reminded you of his age. Twenty years older than you, and still the most handsome man you knew.

You finally broke the silence, announcing yourself by asking, “What’re you reading?”

Joel’s head snapped up, and he stared at you over the top of his glasses. Shutting the book quickly, he straightened up on the couch. “Uh, Brave New World,” he lied, flipping the book so you couldn’t see the cover.

You hummed, unconvinced, and bit down on your bottom lip to hide a smirk. Tommy had told you once before that Joel was a sucker for gothic romance novels, but you’d never truly believed him until that moment. From where you stood, you recognised the tattered copy of Wuthering Heights that had gone missing from your bedroom a few months prior.

A flush rose in his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly, picking up a mug that you hadn’t noticed on the floor by his feet. It was cute; a little beige ceramic thing, with an owl painted on it.

“You see the patrol roster for tomorrow?” he spoke into the mug, swiftly changing the subject.

“I did,” you murmured. What you didn’t acknowledge, was that you’d also seen Peterson and Davis’ names on the list for the morning patrol. “Should be nice. We haven’t gone to the ski lodge in a while.”

A vivid memory of you two fucking up there raced through your mind, and a low heat simmered across your face as you remembered Jesse and Dina almost catching you once. Shaking the thought from your mind, you looked at him again to find him gripping the mug tightly, lips pursed in thought.

“We haven’t,” he agreed lowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched a little. “You haven’t been gettin’ called outside the gates much at all these days.”

This is it, you thought hungrily. This is the moment he tells you how he can’t wait to fuck you there tomorrow while you’re supposed to be patrolling. This is the moment he tells you he can’t even wait until tomorrow, and he drags you upstairs to his bed. Warmth flooded through your thighs, and you held your breath, staring at him.

But Joel didn’t say that. Instead, you watched dejectedly from the doorway as he rose slowly from the couch and tucked the tattered book underneath his arm. “Well,” he coughed, turning towards the stairs. “I’m gonna get some shut eye. It’ll be a warm day, and I’d better get some rest before we head out.”

You watched him move towards the stairs, heart beating painfully fast against your ribs.

“I’m actually not tired,” you blurted out. Joel paused. His left hand gripped the banister, and you could’ve sworn it might break in half based on the way his knuckles went white.

“Well, I am,” he said over his shoulder, before padding up towards his room , not even turning to give you a second look.

You tossed and turned for an hour, staring at the ceiling wide awake. The linen sheets stuck to your sweaty skin, making you feel claustrophobic enough to kick them to the end of the bed. You waited for him. Every creak and groan the old house made had your ears twitching, eyes glancing eagerly toward the door, expecting it to creak open and reveal him sneaking in through the darkness.

And when it became clear that he wasn’t coming, you pushed away the uncomfortable feeling it brought, and snaked a hand past the band of your underwear. Your fingers raked over the coarse hair there, teasing yourself for a moment, before you slid a finger through your damp folds. Collecting your slick, you dragged it up to coat your throbbing nerves and sighed in relief.

Your middle finger dragged quick circles over your clit, and all you could picture was Joel above you, fucking you while wearing those stupid fucking glasses. Cursing him in your mind, you pressed a finger past your entrance, and huffed in frustration at how it paled in comparison to the thickness of his digits. You imagined the way the glasses would fall to the tip of his nose, almost falling off his face while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. In an attempt to stifle the soft moans trying to escape your mouth, you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers moving quicker against yourself. And you came like that; hand down your underwear, rubbing yourself frantically, thinking about nothing but him.

It was hot, and the skin of your thighs chafed painfully as you and Joel ambled silently through the stables, getting your horses from their stalls to saddle up. He hadn’t said much to you all morning and you were trying not to read into it, but the fraught silence had you on edge.  

You winced upon spotting Davis and Peterson standing by the gate, chatting while they loaded their rifles. Lloyd caught your eye and smiled, offering a short nod in your direction. You returned the nod before looking back down and fiddling with Japan’s saddle, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“Gimme a sec,” he muttered. “Gotta go pick Jesse’s brain.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued tugging on the straps of the saddle, until your skin prickled, a presence looming over your shoulder.

“Should we see if we can swap partners?” that voice sounded, and you turned to see Lloyd smirking suggestively at you. “Send Davis and Miller out East together, and you and me could head to the ski lodge?”

Your palms dampened a little and your eyes darted around the stables. There was no denying that Lloyd Peterson was a handsome guy. He was young, somewhere in his early-twenties. He had bright green eyes that shone in contrast against the dark brown hue of his skin. Straight, bright white teeth almost blinded you whenever he smiled, and you’d have to be a robot not to be effected by it. Past his shoulder, you spotted Joel hovering at the mouth of the stables, gaze trained on the pair of you. Caught, he turned quickly, muttering under his breath as he stalked off toward Jesse.

You looked back to Lloyd and shook your head once. “I don’t think so,” you said. “Gonna stick with Miller today.”

Not giving him much chance to respond, you gripped Japan’s reigns and led her out of the building. Joel and Jesse were talking in hushed tones by the gate, and you walked in their direction, pausing a few metres away when you noticed how tense the conversation seemed to be. Jesse was frowning at the older man, shaking his head slowly.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice came again, and you turned with a sigh, raising a hand to block out the sun as you stared up at him. “Can we talk?”

“Talk,” you rushed out, glancing to the side just as Joel appeared beside you, holding out a rifle. You shouldered it quickly, noticing the way Lloyd seemed to balk at the older man’s presence. “Peterson,” you urged, eager to get it over with. “Get on with it.”

He spared another awkward glance at Joel before speaking in a lowered voice. “Did I do something wrong?” You cringed, knowing Joel could hear every word, and yet he didn’t move a muscle. It seemed he wasn’t going anywhere, eyes trained on the man, uninterested in offering the pair of you any privacy to finish your conversation. “I thought we had a good time, y’know? But you’ve been avoiding me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you replied plainly, even as the thought of him telling Davis about fucking you flashed through your mind. Joel was deadly quiet, eyes flicking between the pair of you like he was watching a game of tennis. You sighed deeply, wishing this wasn’t happening in front of him. In a moment of almost… shame, you realised that you didn’t want Joel to get the wrong idea. Didn’t want him to think that anything else had happened, or would ever happen, between you and Peterson.

“Then why won’t yo-“

“Why don’t you back off kid,” Joel interrupted suddenly, and your shoulders tensed, skin prickling at his harsh tone. “She’s not interested.”

Lloyd flinched at the words, and he looked to you, waiting for you to say something, to refute Joel’s claim. But you were distracted by the sudden warmth in your abdomen, and when you didn’t react quick enough he scoffed quietly, spinning on his heel and walking back where Davis was waiting with their horses. When you looked at Joel, he had a pleased smirk on his face, and you felt your stomach fall somewhat, guilt spreading through you at the way Lloyd rode out of the settlement without looking back.

The ride to the ski lodge was long. For the most part of the three hour trek, you rode alongside each other in silence, until finally you couldn’t help yourself, thoughts tumbling from your mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly.

Joel looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and didn’t say a word.

“He was already embarrassed,” you added. His top lip curled up into a mean smirk.

“Peterson’s an ass. He should be embarrassed.”

A huff escaped your mouth and then he was turning, looking at you fully now with his eyebrows pinched together.

“What, your little boyfriend can’t handle some friendly teasin’?” he sneered, the change in mood so sudden you almost fell off your horse. And all the warmth you’d felt, every soft yearning part inside of you toward him, you pushed it to the side and focused on the confusion instead, allowing it to morph into pure anger. You were seeing red; furious with him for never being able to just see reason.

“Oh, fuck off Joel,” you scowled. “I’m not doing this with you today.” You kicked your heel against Japan’s hide and rode ahead, not listening for a reaction.

The higher the pair of you rode up the mountain, the hotter it got. By the time the horses were tied up by a trough of water and the pair of you were walking into the lodge, sweat was rolling down your skin in rivulets. A headache brewed in your temples, and frustration weighed heavily on your chest as Joel huffed and puffed around the room. Even being able to hear his breathing across the room while he scrawled in the logbook was enough to set your skin on edge. Eager to get some space from the tense atmosphere, you gruffly told him that you were taking first patrol, before shouldering your rifle and stalking back outside into the heat.

“You idiot,” you scowled to yourself, storming through the trees. Shame burned in your chest like a wildfire as you thought back to the night before. Touching yourself in his house, making yourself come thinking about him, wondering if he’d fuck you at the ski lodge. God, you felt like a teenager with a hopeless crush.

Your feet planted in the dirt, the word ringing in your head like an alarm. Eyes wide, you gazed into the trees.

“Nope,” you mumbled, starting to walk again slowly. “No, no, no.”

“Y’know they say talkin’ to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Fuck.

“What are you doing?” you turned quickly, staring him down from through the thick trees. “I told you I’d take first patrol.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Saw you storm off too,” Joel rolled his eyes, propping his hands against his hips. “What’s your problem?”

“Jesus,” you grinned sarcastically. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, stepping forward. The tan skin of his neck glistened in the sunlight, and you hated yourself for wanting to know how it tasted. Thankfully, hatred and anger were easier emotions to tap into than whatever the fuck you had been feeling about him for the past few weeks.  

“It means,” you ground out. “That you’re a nasty old bastard.” His face darkened, lips twisted into an angry snarl, but you continued. “Peterson’s not my fucking boyfriend, so you can give it a rest okay? I had it handled.”

“Sure,” he laughed bitterly. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it, havin’ him hit on you right in front of me. You get off on the attention, from him and from me. I bet you loved havin’ me step in, tell him to fuck off.”

Your face was on fire as you glared at him, acutely aware of how the tension had spiked between the pair of you. Entire body tensed, you squared your shoulders and stared him down. “Are you fucking serious, Joel?” you asked lowly, eyebrows raising.

“Deadly,” he grit his teeth. “Don’t forget that I know you, baby, better than anyone.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” you spat desperately, turning around and walking quickly in the opposite direction.

“Oh yeah,” he called, the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you making your stomach drop. “Walk away, sunshine. Let’s just not talk about it, right? I know that’s your favourite thing to do. Walk away, and act like nothing happened.”

“Oh my god!” you shouted. “Grow up, you fucking assho-“ But as you spoke, your foot landed awkwardly on a patch of moss. You heard a low popping sound before you shrieked as your legs flew out from underneath you. You hit the ground awkwardly, ass slamming into the ground, and dirt sprayed into the air around you.

“Shit,” you hissed, moving to get up but cringing as a sharp pain shot through your ankle. The flesh around your shin was already swelling, and you cursed audibly, reaching down to rest your hand against it only to wince at the dull pain spreading through your entire foot.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him say, and then his warm hands were on your shoulders, and he was crouching beside you. Breathing heavily, you stared as your ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball. “Come on, let’s get you back,” Joel said, gripping your elbow to lift you up.

“Get off,” you snapped, shoving him back. He stumbled a little and then stood, glaring down at you. “I can do it myself.”

“Clearly you fuckin’ can’t.”

Eager to prove a point, you dug your fingers into the dirt and pushed yourself up, and then began limping back towards the ski lodge.

You moved slowly with Joel trailing just a few steps behind, close enough that you could hear his breathing, and the way he muttered inaudibly whenever you stumbled. When you almost tripped trying to step over a tree branch, he snapped, appearing at your side in an instant and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Joel,” you warned lowly, but he interrupted.

“Would you stop bein’ such a brat,” he snarled. “You might’ve broken your fuckin’ ankle, just let me help you god damnit.”

You grumbled under your breath but didn’t fight him again, silently grateful to lean on him and get some weight off the injury. His chest rose and fell quickly as he led you back to the lodge, and you could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“It’s not broken,” you muttered. “Probably just a sprain.”

“Good,” he grunted, helping you up the steps and into the building. “Idiot.”

“Jeez, thanks, Joel,” you said bitterly. “You’re a real pal.”

His hand gripped your waist tighter, before lowering you onto the couch. “Any time, bud.”

Joel stormed into the kitchen and returned moments later with a bottle of water, tossing it at you before slamming down onto the sofa beside you. “Jesse and Dina will be here in a few hours, just keep it elevated until then.”

“You got it doc,” you rolled your eyes, eagerly gulping down the water even though it had gotten uncomfortably warm in his pack.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, your ankle throbbing where it rested atop the coffee table.  

“I don’t fuckin’ get you,” Joel finally breathed, and you looked to him with a raised eyebrow and a snarky comment on your lips, only to find him with his head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“You heard me,” he said. “I don’t fuckin’ get you. You go two weeks avoidin’ me, I hardly see you, then you’re knocking on my door, askin’ to stay? And then today you’re cursin’ my goddamn name. Throw me a fuckin’ bone, darlin’, cause I got no idea where I stand with you.”

Your lips parted, all the breath in your lungs rushing out of you in one fell swoop. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown settled across his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. He didn’t look angry, you realised. He looked confused; he looked hurt. Your stomach rolled.

“I could say the same,” you started pathetically, and then his eyes flashed open and he was staring back at you with those dark brown eyes that fucking killed you.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he said blankly, eyes darting around your face.

Your lips felt numb as you slowly asked, “What?”

“You left,” he said quietly. “You fuckin’ left me, and I just don’t know if I can keep pretendin’ anymore. Pretend that this doesn’t… mean anything to me. Pretend that I’m fine with… this. Don’t know if I can keep doing it if you’re just gonna leave. My heart can’t take it.”

It felt like time stood still for a moment. Outside one of the open windows, you could hear the trees rustling in the hot summer wind. Your ankle ached. Joel kept staring at you.

“You know that’s the best I’ve slept in years?” he asked softly, licking his lips. “Slept so fuckin’ sound with you next to me. No nightmares – hell, I didn’t even dream. And then I woke up, and you were gone, and I almost wished it had never happened. So that I wouldn’t have to know how good it felt to have you, wouldn’t have to try and sleep without you every night after, knowing exactly what I was missing.”

“Joel,” you tried again but he shook his head, raising a hand in the air to stop you.

“Just let me,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking. “Let me say this. Just once, and then I’ll let it be, okay? I won’t bring it up again, and we can go back to the way things were befo-“

“Stop,” you croaked out, tears swimming in your eyes. “Shut up for a second. I,” you paused, eyes darting over his face, searching for understanding. “I didn’t want to leave, okay? But I’m scared Joel. Jesus, I’m so scared of this.”

“Scared?”

“Of this feeling that won’t go away. Of wanting to stay. I’ve been trying to push it down, to ignore it, and it doesn’t fucking work, no matter what I do. I’m so scared that I’ve fucked up our friendship, that I’m going to lose yo-“

“Never,” he shook his head firmly, hand reaching out to squeeze your knee. “Listen, you’re not losin’ me, okay? That's never gonna happen.”

“But Joel,” you sighed shakily. “If we push things further, there’s no going back. Don’t you understand?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he admitted quietly. “I think it’s been too late for me for a while now.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, and when you spoke again you could hear the fear in your voice. “I don’t know if I can be what you want.”

Joel chuckled humourlessly and sighed, squeezing your thigh again.

“It’s you,” he said. “That’s what I want. You don’t have to do anythin’, don’t have to change or be anythin’ else. I just want you.” His eyes shone in earnest, and you couldn’t help but surge forward, planting your lips against his. He returned the kiss with fervour, parting your lips with his tongue and gripping the sides of your face in a searing grip.

He tasted like salt and mint and your head was swimming, consumed by him. Your fingertips were numb as they raced over his body, desperate to touch him everywhere all at once. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until his hands joined yours, carefully undoing them all until you could pry it off him.

Pulling back from the kiss, you allowed your eyes to rake over his exposed chest, taking in the sight of his tanned, hairy chest, littered with scars and freckles and you felt the urge to kiss every single one of them. So you did. You pushed him back into the couch and straddled him, ignoring the way your ankle cried out at the movement, and attached your lips to his collarbone, licking and sucking your way across his torso. Showing reverence to every imperfection on his skin. Your tongue swiped past one of his nipples and he jolted beneath you, hands dragging under the fabric of your shirt to rest on your back. You could feel him growing hard beneath you and you smiled against his skin before rolling your hips down against his. He was murmuring your name in between sighs, scratching at your skin, revelling in the kisses you sponged across his chest.

Your eyes trailed upwards to meet his. “Want your cock in my mouth,” you whispered, and his face crumpled in on itself, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping your hands tightly before pushing you off him. He stood up and in one quick movement he knocked the coffee table over, before he was undoing his belt and stripping his pants off. He helped you off the couch slowly, before lowering you down onto the carpet, crouching down to rest beside you. His large hands roamed across your chest, gripping the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward to expose your breasts, your aching nipples peaked and begging to be touched.

“Fuck,” he repeated, harsher this time, leaning over you to plant his mouth on your chest. His teeth scraped across your sensitive skin and you whined, gripping the nape of his neck as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked gently.

“Joel,” you mewled, tugging his face back up to yours for a brief kiss. “I mean it,” you breathed into his mouth. “Need you in my mouth so bad. M’gonna make you feel so good, I swear.” Within a second, he flipped the two of you over so his back was against the ground and you were straddling his hips. You grinned triumphantly, shifting your hips back as you kissed down his chest, moving your body down until you were straddling his shins, and pulling his briefs down with you.

His cock rested proudly against his stomach, thick and swollen and begging to be touched. The head was a deep shade of red, small beads of precum weeping out of his tip as he stared at you, patiently waiting for you to make a move. You didn’t waste a second before leaning down and gliding your tongue softly over the tip, swiping up his salt and humming at the taste. A sharp inhale whistled past his teeth, and you watched his eyes clamp shut at the sensation, hand forming a fist at his side. Gently, you took his hand and raised it to your head, encouraging him to touch you. He obliged, fisting your hair in his hand, grip tightening as you parted your lips around him and let him sink into your warm mouth. A long, drawn-out moan left his mouth and your cunt pulsed in response, the warmth between your thighs suddenly impossible to ignore.

“S-so good for me,” he groaned, pulling your hair tighter. “Love your mouth, I love it. That’s it, baby, open up a little more for me, show me how much you can take.”

The sharp sting on your scalp made you moan around him, and he cursed, undoubtedly feeling the vibration. The weight of him against your tongue was intoxicating, and you bobbed your head up and down slowly, his cock gliding in and out of your mouth easily, slick with your spit. You’d missed the taste of him, missed the sensation of him filling you up to the point where it was hard to breathe, and yet you still wanted more. You pressed forward, eager to feel him fill you up, but when his cock brushed the back of your throat he was gripping your hair and pulling you off him.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and you looked up in confusion. His bottom lip was bitten raw, and his eyes were a darker brown than normal as he gazed at you. When you didn’t move, he was pulling you up and turning your body so your back was to him, and only then did you realise what he meant. He pulled your shorts down your legs, dragging your underwear with them, and then he carefully tugged one of your knees up and over his shoulder, so you were straddling his chest. Slowly, you shuffled back on your knees until your wet heat was hovering over his face, and you leaned down to let your chest rest against his.

“Baby,” Joel sighed. “So fuckin’ perfect. Such a pretty pussy. Can never get enough of you.”

You clenched around nothing, and heard him groan, signalling that he’d seen it. Without warning, his tongue dipped between your folds and you gasped, pushing your hips back to give him a better angle, before taking him back into your mouth. And it was nothing like it had been two nights before. He wasn’t gentle, or slow, or relaxed. No, Joel was relentless.

His tongue moved rhythmically against you, and you tried desperately to focus, harsh breaths leaving your nose as you moved your mouth lazily along his length. You pulled back and lathed your tongue around the head of him, tasting the salt that dripped out of him. He grunted into you and you smiled, stroking him slowly as you sucked the tip, grinding your tongue into the sensitive skin just underneath his head. Joel’s hips bucked up off the ground, and your hand left his length, gripping his waist firmly to hold him down while you took him into your mouth again. You pushed yourself as far as you could, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he brushed the back of your throat. His beard scratched against your inner thighs deliciously, and you decided you loved it a little longer. And then suddenly, his tongue moved away from your clit and he was licking broad strokes along the entirety of your core, and then over your entrance, and then… his tongue flicked all the way back and into new territory.

You flinched forward, his cock surging deeper into your throat and you gagged around him as you explored the new feeling. You moaned, eyes screwing shut at the foreign sensation, and you felt your legs begin to shake against his sides. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you down harder against his face, ruthlessly dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to your hole, until you were tearing your mouth away him and sitting up, grinding yourself down desperately against his face. Arching your back, you writhed on top of him, crying out hoarsely. Every strong flick of his tongue felt like an electric shock jolting through your body, and he continued until you were panting and twitching on top of him, and then you let go. The orgasm tore through you, a shout falling from your lips as you rode his face, gripping his thighs for leverage as your entire body shuddered with the intensity. He didn’t let up; licking and sucking and kissing, his moans vibrating through your core until you were whimpering and dragging yourself off him, clit aching from the pressure.

You were still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Joel pressed your back down onto the carpet, nudged your knees apart so he could fit between them, and pushed himself inside you. A sweet, low burn blazed in your abdomen with every inch he gave to you. The wet sound of you sucking him in might have embarrassed you, but the look of awe on his face as he stared down at where you were connected just made you feel powerful.

His thrusts were strong, the sweaty skin of your thighs smacking against each other noisily filling the air, mixing with your breathless moans of his name.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he was saying, but you weren’t listening, eyes rolling back in your head as he played with your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cried out at a particularly hard thrust, stomach tensing as the head of his cock grinded against your g-spot.

“There?” he panted, and you nodded frantically, mouth hanging open as he pressed against it over and over again, groaning at the way you tensed around him.

Urgent sounds left your lips as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, and you watched with wide eyes as his hand trailed down your chest to rest over your mound, his thumb slipping between your folds to press gently against your throbbing clit. Your back arched up from the ground and you choked out a moan as he rubbed you in slow circles, a stark contrast to the way he drilled into you with his cock.  

“Come,” Joel encouraged and you whimpered, eyes screwing shut as the overwhelming feeling soared through you. His free hand landed over your throat and your eyes flew open, looking up at him as he applied soft pressure to the sides of your neck. “C’mon baby, let me have it. I can feel you, you’re so fuckin’ close, give it to me, please, I want it.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you gasped against his hold, bucking up into him as he fucked you roughly. You twitched and writhed on the ground, his thumb never stopping its movements against your clit as you cried out his name.

And somewhere amidst it all, his movements slowed. His hands turned soft on your body, head dropping down to drag gentle wet kisses along the skin of your neck.  

“So good,” he praised lowly. “So beautiful.” Your heart soared in your chest, and you smiled drowsily, body tingling as he continued to give you gentle thrusts.  

“Kiss me,” you said shyly, and Joel smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into his mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip as you draped your heavy arms around his neck, pinning his torso down against yours. “Fuck me like this,” you told him. “Want to feel you close to me.”

He nodded, starting up a slow rhythm, only ever pulling out halfway before pressing back into you. You were both slick with sweat, and you wiped his forehead gently before raking your fingers through his thick messy curls. His face was red from exertion, and you thumbed his cheekbones gently. A heavy sigh fell from your mouth. Still recovering from your previous orgasm, you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to build you up for another one.

“Give me one more,” he begged, sponging feather light kisses over your eyelids, your cheeks, down your neck. “Want to feel you come with me, baby, please. Just one more, I know you can.”

You gripped his hair and kissed him deeply, your tongues tangling together as he moved his hips slowly, cock dragging in and out of you at a devastating pace. Joel pulled back to watch you, eyes gazing down with adoration as he moved above you. That familiar liquid heat began to burn in your stomach, curling through every fibre of your being, and you could see in his face that he was close. And there was something else there too. Something you couldn’t place; simmering in his eyes, lingering on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. His hips began to stutter against yours, a choked gasp of your name falling from his lips as he quickened his pace until you were coming together, holding each other tightly on the ground of the ski lodge. He moaned heavily against your mouth, and you throbbed around him as his spend coated your walls, warm and slick, squeezing out around his cock as he moved.

As a low, warm silence filled the room, you worked to control your breathing, body shaking against his as he pulled out of you. You whimpered at the empty feeling, missing the weight of him already. But he didn’t go far.

Joel laid down on the carpet beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. Your fingers trailed over the skin of his stomach, smiling at the goosebumps that developed in your wake. Mine.

His hand caught yours and he lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. You leaned forward to rest your face in the rook of his neck, and he sighed in contentment, trailing his fingers down your back.

“Hey Joel?” you murmured against his skin.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I called you a nasty old bastard.”

Joel laughed and tightened his grip around your back, tugging you closer to his chest. “I forgive you.”

[witchywomanrunningupthathill]

The Keep

Summary: A bout of banter with a certain knight leads to the promise of something more.

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: idk incest?

You soared over the palatial Great Sept on the back of Silverwing. Above the markets, the inns, the taverns and brothels, and the many smallfolk who now stood in the shadow of the dragon. The wind raced through your hair and made your squinted eyes water. You gripped the handles on your saddle, veering in the direction of the Red Keep across the way, but eager to indulge your dragon.

“Sovēs!” you commanded as Silverwing flew higher into the clouds, twisting and flipping through the air. 

Alas, you arrived at the castle.

“Gēltīkun…” the dragon tamer said, stepping slowly in front of the dragon. “Lykirī!” Silverwing let out a screech, not wanting her rider to leave her. “Dohaerās!”

The she-dragon mellowed out after the series of commands, lowering her head. You ran your hand affectionately along the great beast a final time before she followed the tamer back to the dragon pit. Soon you’d be flying to Rook’s Rest. But that was in two days’ time.

You’d decided to stay around the grounds of the castle entrance, watching servants and squires mill around.  

“Enjoyed your time in the sky, princess?” Gwayne said, tending to his horse.

You walked up to the man, removing your gloves as you did so. “It’s not too late. My saddle seats two, uncle,” you replied, smiling.

“I’m afraid my responsibilities are more of the terrestrial sort.” He left his horse to his squire. “You smell of dragon.”

You smirked, enjoying the banter as his eyes raked over you. You’d had a new set of dragonriding leathers made. The pants clung to your thighs and backside flatteringly. Gwayne had lost count of how many times he’d thought of those thighs wrapped around his legs as you rode him. You took a daring step closer to him, looking him in the eyes. “I thought you might like that.”

He cocked an eyebrow, a quizzical but amused expression playing on his face.

You hummed affirmatively. “Oh, come on. Having me in the highest tower of the Red Keep, fresh from dragonriding and you just having finished sword fighting with Aemond? Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined it before. On those long journeys, late at night all alone in your tent.”

“Don’t be daft, I have no time for such things when leading my men.” He licked his lips.

“Do you want to find out, Ser?”

“What do you take me for, some common animal?”

You chuckled, nodding in understanding. “Alright, uncle, I shall away to bathe then.” You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his breeches, now becoming hard to hide. You bit your lip as your eyes flitted back up to his. You moved close, whispering in his ear, “shall we say an hour’s time? You know where to meet me.”

Part 2

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 4

Authors Note: I am personally loving this series, so I really hope you guys are too. Thank you for all the kind words about this series so far. LOVE YOU <33

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : Y/n continues training with the first-years, while Gojo grows increasingly protective of her. In order to become more useful, y/n works hard at developing her cursed energy into a cursed technique. With this development comes more complications with those suspicious of y/n and the forest incident. 

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)

Word Count : 5.1k

Warnings : Seggusal tension increasinggggg, nothing else yet tho hehe.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There was darkness all around, an oppressive weight that felt like it was closing in. 

Your breaths came in short gasps as you ran, feet pounding against the wet earth, but no matter how fast you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was following you. It wasn’t a person—at least, not entirely. 

You were back in the forest.

You stood up, looking over your shoulder to see a man standing behind you. Dark and intense cursed energy oozed from him. You couldn’t breathe, as if there was something blocking your airway. 

Clawing at your throat—gasping for breath—you started running away from the mysterious man. 

Suddenly, your foot caught on something, and you fell hard into the mud. Then, a piercing pain immobilized you—it felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

When finally managed to open your eyes, you saw him again. But a bright light cast a shadow over his face. 

That's when you felt it. 

A dark manifestation of cursed energy. It crackled like electricity, twisting and coiling around your arms, burning through your skin.

You screamed, trying to shake it off, but it only grew stronger, surging through you with a force you couldn’t control. It was inside you, seeping out, and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t stop. 

Your eyes shot open.

You were back in your room at Jujutsu High, breathless and disoriented, heart still pounding in your chest. The nightmare clung to you for a few seconds before dissolving like smoke, leaving behind only the sensation of that cursed energy—the one you still didn’t fully understand. 

You sat up in bed, a cold layer of sweat coating your body. Who was that? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to remember anything from that nightmare. But it all faded away.

It was just a dream—but it felt real.

—

After a night of no sleep, you decided to head out and begin training. Gojo had mentioned he wanted you to begin training early today. Since your flare of cursed energy at the graveyard, you were both somewhat eager to see what else you could do. You had to figure out a way to gain some sort of control over your situation. 

The sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the outdoor training grounds with a soft, golden hue. 

You stood with your feet planted firmly on the dirt of the outdoor arena, eyes closed as you tried to focus. It was early, and the others were allowed to sleep in today because of their work last night on exorcising the curses at the graveyard, so it was just you and Gojo training for the next hour.

“Eventually, your cursed energy will manifest itself into a technique. Which will be the main way you can use it to fight curses.” Gojo explained as he typed something into his phone. 

You nodded, but at your core, you didn’t know if you could do this. 

You could feel his arrogant attitude from where you stood in the training arena. “Try not to blow up the place, alright?”

Rolling your eyes, you had scoffed at him. But, as you stood with cursed energy swirling aimlessly around your fingers, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. 

It was still so unpredictable, and each time you tried to harness it, it either fizzled out or spiralled into chaos. 

You didn’t want to hurt anyone.

“Okay, come on,” you muttered to yourself, taking a deep breath and stretching out your fingers as you centred the energy into your palm. 

The cursed energy crackled like static against your skin, bright blue sparks shimmering along the edges. Your brow furrowed in concentration. But just as quickly as it flared up, the energy dispersed with a soft pop, leaving nothing but a faint tingle in its wake.

“Dammit,” you whispered under your breath. Your frustration beginning to grow.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Gojo’s voice floated over, his footsteps light as he approached. He had a knack for appearing at just the right (or wrong) moment, and it wasn’t surprising to see him standing a few feet away with that infuriatingly calm smile on his face. “Takes time to control it.”

You glanced at him, wiping the sweat off your brow. “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere with it.” 

You had been out here, trying to harness your cursed energy into something useful since sunrise, which must have been hours ago.

“You’re getting somewhere,” Gojo said easily, crossing his arms as his blindfold caught the glint of the sun. 

His voice dropped into that familiar teasing tone. “Besides, it’s not every day I get to see you all frustrated like this. Kind of cute, actually.”

You huffed, feeling a flush creep up your neck at his direct comment. Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you snapped, “You’re annoying, you know that?”

He chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed to reverberate through the air. “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

He had this way of making everything seem effortless, yet there was a deeper, almost imperceptible layer of concern that you couldn’t quite understand. 

You caught him watching you more often now, his usual playful demeanour occasionally replaced by an intense seriousness that made you wonder what he was really thinking.

There were moments, fleeting and unexpected when you found yourself lost in thoughts about him.

His confident smile, the way he casually teased you, and even his serious side, all seemed to draw you in—and there is no denying he has got to be one of the most gorgeous men you’d ever se—What the hell am I thinking about right now, focus!

You quickly brushed these thoughts away, a mix of embarrassment and practicality pushing them to the back of your mind. 

Focus on the training, you reminded yourself. There was enough to worry about without adding complicated feelings into the mix.

The weight of needing to be useful, to prove yourself, was heavier than anything else on your mind right now. 

You took a deep breath, focusing your mind on the cursed energy swirling within you. Concentrate, you told yourself. Control it. Let it become strong.

With renewed determination, you concentrated the energy into your palms.

The familiar blue light began to glow, a vivid hue that seemed to dance around your hands. You lifted your arm, aiming towards the wooden target set up at the other end of the arena.

Gojo watched you intently, his usual smirk replaced by a look of genuine interest. You could feel his gaze on you, a silent encouragement that urged you to push through.

You narrowed your eyes at the target, summoning every ounce of concentration you had.

The cursed energy built up, a palpable force in your hand. When you felt ready, you released it.

A beam of cursed energy shot out from your palm, faster than a snap of your fingers. The beam struck the wooden target with explosive force. 

It shattered into splinters instantaneously, the impact sending debris scattering across the field. Blue flames erupted from the point of impact, scorching the ground and adding a dramatic flair to the display.

You watched with a mix of pride and relief as the target was blown to smithereens, the blue flames sizzling out quickly. The energy buzzed in your hands, a testament to the progress you had made.

“Wow, y/n…” Gojo said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine admiration. You smiled wide at his reaction. 

He walked over to you, playfully clapping his hands. But, your smile immediately fell into a tired frown when he spoke, “That was way stronger than I expected from you. Plus, I thought you’d miss.” 

“Well, aren’t you encouraging.” You replied harshly. “Glad you’re always rooting for me.” You said flatly as you turned away from him, setting yourself up to try again. 

As you caught your breath, still feeling the residual pulse of cursed energy, you heard footsteps approaching. Yuji, Nobara, and Maki—came into view, drawn by the commotion.

Yuji’s eyes widened as he took in the scene, his mouth dropping open in awe. “Whoa! What happened here?”

Nobara’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, her usual teasing demeanor replaced by genuine interest. “Looks like y/n’s been busy. What was that?”

Maki raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “That’s some impressive cursed energy control.”

Gojo took a step back, giving the group a sweeping gesture with a flourish. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present y/n’s newly developed technique. Quite the show, huh?”

Yuji bounded forward, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was amazing, y/n! I knew you had it in you!”

Nobara grinned and clapped her hands together. “Awesome! Now we can really go at you in training. Even Maki’s impressed, and that’s saying something.”

Maki gave you a nod of respect, her usual tough exterior softened by genuine admiration. “Nice work.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the lingering flush of satisfaction. “Just trying to keep up.”

The group continued to chatter, their enthusiasm and encouragement a welcome change from the tension you’d been feeling.

As you joined them, the atmosphere lightened, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax, enjoying the camaraderie of your peers. The fears that were previously stuck in your mind faded away. 

Gojo stayed close, his gaze lingering on you with an unreadable expression. Even amidst the laughter and conversation, there was an air of unspoken understanding between the two of you. 

That morning’s training had revealed more than just a new technique—it revealed that you could help, and that maybe, just maybe, everyone at this school wouldn’t see you as a burden.

—

Later that day, after you had spent hours training and sparring with Megumi and Nobara, you found yourself walking through the corridors of Jujutsu High, still thinking about your nightmare. You remembered that you had seen someone in your dream, but all details were blurred, like a lake on a windy day.

As you turned a corner, you almost collided with Nanami, who was making his way to the principal’s office.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered, stepping aside quickly.

Nanami glanced at you with his usual unreadable expression. “No worries, y/n. My fault.” He gave a small nod of acknowledgment before continuing on his way. 

You watched him go—you didn’t know much about Nanami, but the other students spoke very highly of him. 

Something about the atmosphere around the school felt off today. There was an underlying tension you couldn’t quite place.

Deciding to brush it off for now, you headed back to your room, where Gojo was patiently waiting, leaning against your doorframe. “I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked down the hall.

He grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’ve been accused of worse things.”

You rolled your eyes. “I need to talk to you.” He looked serious for a moment, something unusual for him. “Okayy…” You responded awkwardly. “What’s up?”

“The higher-ups are paying more attention to you now." He said bluntly, his tone flatter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat, your body tensing at his words. “What do you mean, paying attention to me?”

Gojo let out a soft sigh. “Your cursed energy’s growing stronger. They’ve noticed. And when the higher-ups notice something they can’t explain, they don’t like to just let it slide. It’s quite annoying actually.” He threw his head back a bit in annoyance. “There’s this old bald guy who likes to hold grudges—mostly against me—and you’re my student.” 

You felt a lump form in your throat as his words settled in. The higher-ups were interested in you? 

"So... what does that mean for me?"

Gojo tilted his head a bit. "It means they're getting more suspicious. And if they can't figure you out, they’ll want to dig deeper.”

He hesitated for just a second before his smirk returned, “I gotta start bringing you on every mission. I kind of have a thing against these old folk, so I want to stay in between you and them.” 

You stared at him, your mind spinning. Going on missions with Gojo? The idea felt both thrilling and terrifying, and you weren’t sure if you should feel relieved or even more anxious. "You’re really serious about this?" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Gojo held up a finger and put his other hand on his hip. "Yep! So you should definitely polish up your cursed techniques.” You rolled your eyes at him, but he spoke again before you could respond.

"Don’t forget though, I am the strongest—If the higher-ups want to watch, fine. But they’ll have to do it from a distance."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The idea of being watched, of being tested again—it made your skin crawl. 

But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the strange comfort you felt knowing Gojo would be there.

—

The next day, you found yourself back at the training grounds with the rest of the group. The air felt heavy with the anticipation of something unspoken, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. Megumi and Yuji were already stretching out, and Nobara was talking loudly about some new shoes she had bought. 

Gojo was already there when you arrived, leaning against a tree with his usual lazy grin, but his posture was more rigid than usual. Something was clearly on his mind.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Gojo’s voice broke through the chatter, and the group gathered around, exchanging glances.

“Today’s focus is control.” Gojo’s smile widened as his eyes flicked to you, the challenge clear. 

“We’re going to see just how well y/n can manage her cursed energy while under pressure. And by pressure, I mean you guys.” He flashed a pair of finger guns towards you and the others. 

Your heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that you had struggled with control until recently, and Gojo had been pushing you harder lately. 

As the sparring matches began, you found yourself paired with Nobara. Her cursed tools were sharp and precise, and you knew she wouldn’t hold back. 

You summoned your cursed energy, focusing it into your palms. You had yet to figure out any way to use your cursed energy defensively, only on the offence. 

She was too quick for you—you couldn’t load up your technique, just dodge her nails. 

“Fuck,” You breathed, sweat now dripping down your forehead. 

You managed to get a single strike aimed in her direction. She blocked it, although not with ease. 

Quickly after this, Nobara lunged at you, and you couldn’t dodge it. You lifted a single hand in font of your face to block her, and a shimmering barrier of cursed energy appeared in front of you, freezing Nobara in the air. It held up for a few seconds but then broke apart—Nobara falling in front of you. 

“You’re getting better,” Nobara said, a grin pulling at her lips, as she stood up. “But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to beat me.”

You smirked, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. “Oh, I plan to.”

For the next several minutes, the two of you exchanged blows, your cursed energy crackling and swirling around you. 

Each time Nobara attacked, you deflected with that shimmery barrier you created, feeling more in control of your abilities than ever before. 

But with each success came a growing sense of unease. 

The cursed energy wasn’t just responding to you—it was almost like it had a mind of its own, reacting to your emotions, amplifying with each surge of frustration or excitement.

From his vantage point, Gojo observed you with a mixture of amusement and admiration. It was impossible not to be drawn to the way you approached your training—there was a fierce determination in your eyes that spoke volumes. 

But it wasn’t just your training that captured his attention. There were moments, fleeting and unguarded, when you flashed him a smile—an expression of triumph or frustration. Those smiles, so rare and genuine, had a way of lighting up your face and sending a jolt of warmth through him. 

Sometimes, when you spoke to him, your voice had a certain edge that made his pulse quicken—a mix of sass and sincerity that he found both endearing and electrifying.

The way you carried yourself—your smile, your eyes, your voice—had an effect on him that went beyond mere admiration. 

Just as you were about to launch another attack, Gojo’s voice cut through the air.

“That’s enough.”

You and Nobara stopped, both panting heavily. You glanced over at Gojo, who had his arms crossed, his blindfold covering his eyes but not hiding the fact that he had been watching you intently the entire time.

Before you could respond, Yaga appeared at the edge of the training grounds, his face as stern as ever.

The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted. He hadn’t been around much since you’d arrived at Jujutsu High, but whenever he did show up, it was usually for something serious.

“Gojo, a word?” Yaga said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Gojo sighed, his usual lighthearted demeanour slipping. “Go on without me,” he said to the group, and then to you specifically, “Try not to burn the place down.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tightness in your chest remained as you watched Gojo and Yaga disappear into the main building.

Nobara nudged you lightly, breaking you from your thoughts. “What do you think that’s about?” she asked, her voice casual but her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You shrugged, trying to play it off, though your heart raced with unease. “Who knows? Maybe they’re finally realizing how much of a pain Gojo is,” you joked, earning a loud laugh from Nobara, though your attempt at humour fell flat to your own ears.

—

Meanwhile, inside the main building, Gojo leaned casually against the wall, his blindfold still firmly in place, arms crossed in a posture that suggested nonchalance. “So, what’s so urgent, Yaga? You interrupt my valuable instructor time?” Gojo quipped, though his tone lacked its usual lightness.

Yaga didn’t bite on Gojo’s attempt at humour. His face was grave as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. “There’s been word of a new curse user. Someone powerful. Too powerful to go unnoticed for long.”

Gojo straightened up slightly, sensing the shift in tone. “And?”

“And the higher-ups—specifically Gakuganji—are starting to grow suspicious,” Yaga continued. “They think this curse user might be connected to y/n.”

At this, Gojo’s easygoing facade cracked. His posture stiffened, and a dangerous gleam appeared behind his blindfold. “Those idiots think y/n’s involved? Based on what?”

Yaga sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know how they are. Always looking for someone to blame. Her cursed energy’s been growing steadily, and they can’t make sense of it. Then, suddenly, this curse user appears on the radar, causing havoc—Gakuganji’s convinced there’s a link.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, processing the information. His fingers twitched by his sides, itching for action, for a way to cut through the bureaucracy and protect you. “Y/n has nothing to do with this curse user,” he said, his voice hard and certain. “You know that, and I know that.”

“But Gakuganji doesn’t,” Yaga countered. “He’s old, set in his ways. He’s convinced himself that there’s something wrong with her. The more her cursed energy grows, the more paranoid he gets.”

Gojo clenched his jaw, frustrated but not surprised. “What’s the plan, then? Are they going to monitor her, restrict her movements? Or do they want to go further?”

Yaga frowned, folding his arms. “They haven’t made a decision yet, but it’s clear Gakuganji wants answers. He’s pushing for a formal investigation. If he can convince the other higher-ups, it won’t be long before they take action.”

Gojo’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “And by ‘investigation,’ you mean dragging her into their games, pushing her until something breaks.”

“Exactly,” Yaga said grimly. “They’re not going to let this go. And if this curse user causes more damage, they’ll be looking for someone to pin it on.”

Gojo’s eyes darkened behind his blindfold. His protective instincts surged as he thought of you, how unaware you were of the storm brewing around you. He wouldn’t let them touch you—not when he could do something about it.

“So what do we do?” Gojo asked, his tone dropping, serious.

Yaga glanced at him, the unspoken weight of the question hanging between them. “I trust you, Gojo, but you need to be careful. You’re the only thing standing between y/n and Gakuganji right now. If he gets too suspicious, even you might not be able to stop them from acting.”

Gojo scoffed at Yagas statement. “Yeah right. Not even that old man could stop me, you know that too.” He pushed off the wall, his posture shifting back into the easygoing persona he used like armour.

—

After training, you were left feeling restless. The sparring match with Nobara had gone well, but the growing power inside you felt unsettling. You needed to clear your head, and sitting still wasn’t an option. 

The sun had just set, and you were wandering the grounds, the quiet evening air a welcome distraction from the many issues swirling in your mind. But just as you rounded a corner near the principal’s office, you caught sight of Gojo and Nanami standing just outside, their voices hushed but intense.

“I don’t trust the higher-ups on this,” Gojo was saying, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “There’s more going on here than they’re letting on.”

Nanami frowned, his arms crossed. “And what do you plan to do? Defy them openly?”

Gojo shrugged, though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your heart raced as you ducked behind a nearby wall, straining to hear more.

“They want her under observation,” Nanami continued, his voice low but firm. “There are too many unanswered questions about her cursed energy. If they find something they don’t like, it won’t end well.”

Gojo’s voice dropped even lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s why I’m keeping her close. I’m not letting them pull any stunts.”

Nanami was quiet for a moment before responding, “Just be careful. If you go too far, you’ll be putting both of you at risk.”

Gojo let out a soft chuckle, though there was no real humour in it. “Since when am I not careful?”

Nanami shot him a pointed look, and Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep it subtle. So serious, Nanami.” And with that, you heard one set of footsteps leave, trailing down the hall.

You pressed your back against the wall, your mind racing. The higher-ups were investigating you? And Gojo—he was protecting you from them?

You weren’t sure what to think. 

The idea that the higher-ups were interested in your cursed energy wasn’t surprising, but the fact that Gojo was actively shielding you from them sent a whirlwind of emotions through you.

Before you could process any further, Gojo’s voice floated through the air again, this time with that familiar teasing lilt. “You can come out now, y/n.”

Shit.

Your heart nearly stopped. How had he known?

Reluctantly, you stepped out from behind the wall, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flush creeping onto your cheeks. “I wasn’t eavesdropping!” you said quickly, though the weak defense only made your face heat up further.

Gojo’s smirk was pure mischief as he slid his hands into his pockets, his movements leisurely and deliberate. “Oh? Then what were you doing?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat as Gojo stopped right in front of you.

He towered over you, his presence was overwhelming in the dim light. With one finger he held his blindfold up slightly to reveal those sharp, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about this stuff?” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. The way he spoke made your pulse quicken.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted, his tone lighter but still firm, with an edge that made your stomach flutter. “And you’re overthinking it.”

His proximity was intoxicating. 

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath so close that it made your heart race. The way he looked at you, so intensely and with that hint of a smirk, made you lose your train of thought.

Every glance, every touch, every teasing comment he made set your nerves on fire. But you tried to keep your composure. 

“I just want to know what’s going on,” you said quietly, your voice betraying the emotional turbulence you felt. “Why are they so interested in me?”

Gojo’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, the playful facade dropped.

He took another step closer, you felt his breath on the top of your head as he spoke, “Because they don’t trust you. 

You felt your breath hitch at the closeness, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Okay, and why are you so involved?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions surging through you.

Gojo tilted his head, his lips curling into a teasing smirk as he gazed down at you, his voice low and almost intimate. "Do I need a reason to be involved?" he murmured, the weight of his words making your chest tighten.

Your pulse quickened as you searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind that statement.

He always did this—danced around the edges of something deeper, leaving you guessing, wondering if there was more to his teasing than just playful banter. 

But right now, with his proximity overwhelming your senses, it felt different. More intense.

“I think you owe me one,” you whispered firmly, trying to keep your voice steady, though the closeness made it nearly impossible. “A real answer.”

Gojo’s smirk faded slightly, his expression shifting into something more serious, something that sent a wave of heat straight through you. 

His hand brushed the side of your arm as he lifted his hand up to hold the back of his neck, his fingers lingering just long enough to send a spark through your skin.

“Maybe I’m just keeping an eye on what’s mine,” he said softly, his tone both possessive and protective.

Your breath hitched at his words. What the hell was he talking about? His?

There was an unmistakable electricity between the two of you—a pull you couldn't resist, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yours?” you breathed, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, his smirk returning with a new lightheartedness to it.

And suddenly the moment was gone—“Yeah, my student!” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, the sudden shift in his tone turning all the heat that had built up into sheer frustration.

Gojo saw your face and let out a loud chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he took step back. “Ha! for a minute I thought you were coming onto me there, y/n.” 

His teasing grin was back in full force, and you hated how easily he could do that—toss you from one emotional extreme to another like it was nothing. 

"Oh god, you're insufferable," you muttered, dramatically rolling your eyes and putting your hands on your hips. You were annoyed at him, but it was hard to stay that way when he looked so damn amused.

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he was waiting for you to react exactly how you did. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” He chuckled.

“Whatever, you’re a weird guy, you know that?” You said, although you couldnt help the smile that was creeping onto your face.

Before he could say anything else, you turned away and began to walk in the direction of your dorm room, a knowing smile formed on your lips. “Goodnight, Saturo.” You said; your voice was soft as you waved before turning the corner. 

Gojo stood there, frozen in place as your words echoed in his mind.

Satoru.

The sound of his name on your lips stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t quite define. It was the first time he had heard his name said in such a tone since—since his best friend. 

But from you, it felt different—intimate in a way that unsettled him. His name had never sounded so soft, so gentle, and for a brief moment, he wondered how many other times you’d said it in your head, the way it had rolled so naturally off your tongue just now.

He blinked, the usual playful smirk faltering on his lips as a strange warmth spread through his chest that he couldn’t suppress. 

He could feel his heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years, the steady rhythm skipping just slightly out of sync. What was that? 

His hand twitched at his side, tempted to reach out after you, to call you back, but he hesitated.

What the hell are you doing, Satoru? He thought to himself, shaking his head as if to clear the strange, fluttering feeling in his chest.

Gojo prided himself on being untouchable—in more ways than one. 

No one could get close enough to affect him, emotionally or otherwise, but somehow, without even trying, you were doing just that. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair and letting out a low chuckle to himself.

“Damn, you really are something else,” he muttered, staring at the spot where you had just disappeared from view.

There was no denying it now—you had managed to slip past the barriers he had built, and the realization unsettled him. His mind raced through the conversations, the subtle moments, the looks shared between you two.

And now, something as simple as you saying his name had thrown him completely off balance.

Your voice continued to echo in his ears—Satoru—soft and lingering. 

Finally, he turned on his heel, heading toward his own quarters, though his mind was anything but settled.

His thoughts kept circling back to you—to the way you’d looked at him before you left, the way your lips had curved into that soft, knowing smile.

He cursed under his breath.

This was getting dangerous. Not because of the higher-ups, not because of the curses or the investigations, but because of you. 

You were becoming a distraction—a very dangerous, very tempting distraction.

[alotofpockets]

In sickness and stubbornness | Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Wife!Reader & Lia Wälti x Platonic!Reader

Summary: Leah stubbornly went to practice while being sick. [requested]

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1.2k

-----

Leah’s alarm woke you up early in the morning. She had to go to practice, so with a kiss to your forehead, she made her way to the bathroom. When she got back to the bedroom, she sat down next to you on the bed. Usually you would get up with Leah, so that the two of you could have breakfast together, but today Leah told you. “Go back to bed, baby. It’s your day off, you deserve some extra rest.” She had kissed your forehead again, before she left for London Colney. 

It wasn’t until about two hours later, when you had just finished your breakfast, that you realised the underlying reason Leah wanted you to stay in bed, through Lia’s phone call. 

On the training grounds at London Colney Lia was watching her best friend closely. Her energy level seems low, and the paleness of her face wasn't helping her case. “Hey Lee, are you doing alright?” Leah responds with a quick yes before running the next drill. Lia rolls her eyes, and runs after her. When the two stop at the end of the drill she quickly puts her hand on Leah’s forehead. “You're burning up, Leah. You're sick, you should go home and get some rest.” Leah shakes her hand off, “I'm fine, Wally.” And she has off to the next drill.

Lia could see that she was getting worse so she walked up to someone on the staff. “Hey, Leah doesn't feel so good, can I go call someone to pick her up real quick?” He looks over to Leah before saying, “Yeah, go ahead.” He scribbles something down on his notepad as Lia turns on her heels and heads to the locker room to grab her phone.

You picked up your ringing phone. “Hi Wally, everything okay?” It wasn't unusual for your wife's best friend to call you, since you had become close friends over the years. However, since you knew that she was currently training with Leah, you were worried that something had happened.

“Hey y/n/n, yeah nothing bad. Just that your wife stubbornly went to practice while being sick.” With a big sigh you say, “Of course she did. Is she doing alright?” Lia laughs at your comment. “I think she has a fever, and she looks really pale. Is there any way you can come pick her up?” You were already putting on some shoes, “Yeah, I'll be right there. Thanks for letting me know, Wally.”

Back on the pitch Lia walked over to Leah and made her sit down on the grass. “Y/n is on her way.” Leah's eyes widened. “You didn't.” Her words accompanied by a warning glare. “Oi, if Wally called your wife, you messed up mate.” Katie yelled over, making Leah roll her eyes. “Just doing what is best for you Lee.” Leah was annoyed that her best friend snitched on her, and ran to do the next drill, pushing herself further.

You arrived at the training grounds, and took the familiar path down to the fields, where you saw your girlfriend sitting on the pitch. Her sickness finally caught up to her to the point she was too weak to keep running. Lia was right, she looked very pale. “Hi love, let’s get you home, shall we?” The Leah that had been resisting Lia’s help, quickly changed into the Leah that let you help her up, and the Leah that clung to your side.

While holding Leah up, you have a quick conversation with Lia. “Need a hand to get her to the car?” You shake your head, “We should be fine, thank you though. Plus this stubborn lady has kept you from training long enough.” Lia laughs with you, “Okay, text me if you need me to bring anything by the house after practice.” You thank her before walking Leah off the pitch.

Once you got Leah home safely, you ran her a bath. You handed her some medicine, before you guided her to the bathroom. “Go on, love. I'll be right back.” She reached for your hand instantly. “Don't leave me.” You hide your smile at her pout. “I'm just going to grab some clothes for you, my love.” She let your hand go.

You sent Lia a quick text, asking if she could pick up some more painkillers since you were almost out, as well as some ingredients for soup. After pocketing your phone, you grab a sweater and some sweatpants for Leah, and head back to the bathroom. Leah was laying in the tub, fighting to keep her eyes open. You sat down on the edge of the bath, so you could wash her hair for her. When she was done you helped her into her clean clothes.

“Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling good?” You ask once you've got her settled on the couch. “I thought it would fade once I got some fresh air. Plus it's your day off, and I didn't want you to have to take care of me.” You move your hands through her hair. “Oh darling, I would never mind taking care of my favourite girl. I would rather take care of you on my day off than having you out on the pitch with a fever.” Leah nods, and you could see her struggling to keep her eyes open once again. “Get some rest, my love. I'll be here the whole time, I promise.” 

Leah fell asleep moments after you draped a blanket over her. You looked at her with a soft smile, she looked so peaceful with the blanket clutched to her chest. You did some house work that you had planned to do today, while continuously checking in on Leah in the living room. 

You heard the front door open, right after you had put a load of laundry into the washing machine. Lia had a key, so you knew it was her arriving with supplies. “Thank you, I didn't want to leave her here alone.” You take one of the bags from her, as you both walk into the kitchen.

Lia insisted on staying to help you make the soup. Once you got all the chopping done and the soup was left on a simmer, the two of you stayed in the kitchen to talk. So, the two of you were in the kitchen when Leah woke up. “You said you wouldn't leave.” The girl said with a pout, extending grabby hands towards you. “Yeah, I meant I wouldn't leave the house love.” You wrap your arms around her, her head nuzzling into your chest. 

“How are you feeling?” Lia asked, only getting a huff in response. “Oh grow up, Lee.” You felt Leah tighten her hold on you. “Lee, darling, don't be annoyed with Wally for calling me. She was only trying to help.” Leah wanted to be stubborn again but the softness in your voice made it so she wasn't able to. “Slightly better.”

The three of you had some soup together before Lia left again. “What do you feel like, my love?” You asked your wife who looked tired again. “Cuddles in bed?” You place a loving kiss on her forehead, before helping her up and leading her to your bedroom.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[megalony]

Is This Your Husband

This is a new Evan Buckley imagine, based on an anon request which I hope you will all like and I have a follow up planned for this. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Eddie's little sister comes to stay with him in LA to get away from her ex. And Evan feels drawn to her and wants to ask her out.

Enjoy.

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

"Hi, can I help you?"

(Y/n) tried her best to smile. She clicked her back into place and stood as tall as she could without wincing. Her arms stayed bound around her chest and her lips formed into the simplest, tightest smile she could give that didn't look pained or broken.

She knew she looked a mess. Her hair was windswept and disshevelled. Her clothes were baggy and she wore an oversized hoodie despite the LA heat and her clothes didn't do much to hide the light tremble rolling over her body in waves.

"Is Eddie home?" This was the right house. (Y/n) knew it was. She recognised the familiar truck parked up in the drive. This had to be where her big brother lived. This had to be the place he was always telling her about. The place (Y/n) had dreamed about for months. The place she finally plucked up the courage to escape to in the early hours of the morning.

She leaned to look around the kindly woman in the doorway and peered into the hall, just to check. She could vaguely see a few picture frames scattered around and (Y/n) was sure she could make out a picture of Chris on the small side table.

"I'll go get him for you."

When the woman turned and headed back inside, (Y/n) let out the breath she had been holding in and tried to keep her smile genuine and not burst out into tears.

That had to be Carla. The woman Eddie talked about a lot who helped look after Chris when he was at work.

There had been a look in her eyes, a small sense of familiarity and (Y/n) guessed Carla recognised her from one or two of the pictures Eddie scattered about the house. She just didn't know or realise who (Y/n) was now she was here in the flesh.

"Who is it?" Eddie finished his mouthful of pasta and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he pushed up from the table.

Who was at the door? He wasn't expecting anyone and he couldn't think who it could be. What young women did he know who didn't work at the station or at Chris's school? It couldn't be anyone from the school coming round at teatime and if it was, Carla would have recognised them.

Just as Eddie stood up from the table, Chris hopped down and sped out the kitchen first to find out who was at the door.

"Chris-" A shiver rolled down Eddie's spine and he cringed when Chris let out an excited scream. Who on Earth had turned up at the door?

"Auntie (Y/n)!"

Adrenaline coursed through Eddie's stomach and he hurried up in his steps when he heard Chris. (Y/n) was here? His youngest sister? Why was she in LA? Why hadn't she told him she was coming down? Eddie would have picked her up from wherever she arrived in town, he would have made the house look a bit tidier. He and Chris would have come to get her and show her around and go out for tea if they knew she was coming down.

He watched with wide eyes and a spreading grin when Chris barrelled over to the front door and latched his arms around (Y/n)'s waist. He burrowed his head into her abdomen and clung to her like a monkey, still screaming excitedly into her stomach.

Out of all three of Eddie's sisters, (Y/n) was the one he was closest to and she was the one who had the best connection with Chris. It had been extremely hard on them both to leave (Y/n) back in Texas. Eddie could handle leaving his parents and his two other sisters, but he didn't want to leave his youngest sibling who he had taken care of all his life.

It had broken Chris's heart to know that his aunt would no longer be ten minutes away but four hours away from home.

"Hey buddy- oh, you've grown so much." (Y/n) couldn't keep the tears from falling down her face, both from joy out of seeing Chris, and pain from how tightly he clung to her.

"You're here!"

"I thought I'd surprise my best boys," (Y/n) leaned her head down and pressed hundreds of kisses against the top of Chris's hair until he was squealing and squirming against her. She held him tighter and willed herself not to burst into tears but as soon as she lifted her head and looked at Eddie, the waterworks started.

"Alright, my turn. Chris, go finish dinner with Carla while I help auntie (Y/n) in please." Eddie gently turned Chris around in the other direction and gave him a nudge. (Y/n) wasn't going anywhere and Chris could cling to her and tell her everything that had been going on as soon as he'd finished his dinner and Eddie had the chance to hug his sister for himself.

Once Chris toddled off into the dining room, clapping his hands along the way, Eddie turned back to face (Y/n). He smiled brightly down at her and gasped when she flung her arms around his neck and reeled him in for a hug.

"I can't believe you're here. Why didn't you tell me you were coming down?" He kissed the side of her head and deadlocked his arms around her waist. But he could feel the smile fading from his face when he felt (Y/n) jolt and tense up as soon as he curved his arms around her.

His hand planted down in the middle of her back and he tensed up the longer she held onto him without the intention of letting go.

Panic surged through him when he felt her tears soaking into his shoulder and Eddie started to realise she wasn't crying out of happiness, at least not anymore. And his eyes darted down to the doorstep in front of him and he could feel a new surge of panic igniting in his stomach.

A suitcase and a duffle bag.

That was more baggage than just a flying visit. Why had she turned up with all her belongings? Why didn't she call him? What had happened back home that he didn't know about?

"(Y/n), what's wrong? Why all the bags?" Eddie's hand pressed firmer into the middle of (Y/n)'s back when she tightened her arms around his neck and refused to pull away or look up at him.

He kept his left arm bound tight around her waist and he reached his right hand out to grab her suitcase. He dragged it inside and did the same with her other bag before he shuffled back with (Y/n) still in his arm so he could shut the door.

(Y/n) stayed limp and easily moveable, letting Eddie guide her through into the living room instead of standing in the hallway. But she started to shake when he finally leaned back and gripped her chin. He tilted her head up so they were finally looking at each other and when his thumb swiped across her cheek to brush away a tear, (Y/n) felt a whimper bubbling past her lips.

"C-can I stay with you, just f-for a while. Please?" Her hands unhooked from Eddie's neck and she let him hold her elbows and guide her to sit down on the armchair.

Once she was sat down, Eddie perched on the coffee table in front of her and rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward and arched his back out.

"You know you can always stay with me and Chris, you don't have to ask. What's going on? You didn't call, I could have come and got you… has something happened back home?"

(Y/n) tangled her hands together and clenched her fingers together as tight as she could until they started to ache and burn.

"I had to get away but… but Joey knows were ma and papi live, he doesn't know your address." Her eyes danced down to stare at Eddie's knees but she saw the way they tensed and how his hands curled into fists between his thighs.

She could almost feel the anger radiating off of him and his stance changed within a split second.

"Did he try to hurt you?"

Eddie had always been wary around Joey since the first moment he met him. There was just something about him that didn't sit right with Eddie, he seemed off but Eddie couldn't place why. His attitude was different and the way he would stare or grimace made something seem dark in his eyes. Eddie didn't trust his sister's boyfriend but Joey had never threatened (Y/n), at least not around Eddie or in a way any of the family had noticed.

"We had a fight, but I've n-never seen him like that before… he threw things at me, and he locked the door and w-wouldn't let me out. When he went to sleep, I packed up a-and climbed out the window."

Joey had been aggressive, (Y/n) had always known that side to him, but he was only ever verbally violent towards her. He would shout and scream and hit the walls, but he never hurt (Y/n). She knew his possessive side was dangerous, the way he checked her phone and asked where she'd been every second of the day. If she was late home by five minutes he got suspicious. If she talked to her family or met up with them then she was automatically ignoring him.

It was getting tiresome and frightening and (Y/n) didn't want to be around him anymore. But last night was different. He actually threw things at her. He threw picture frames around the apartment. He went as far as to hit (Y/n) and when she tried to leave, he fisted his hand in her hair and dragged her back so he could lock the front door.

(Y/n) hid in the bathroom until Joey stopped apologising and finally fell asleep in the living room.

Once he was asleep, she packed up. She stuffed clothes into a bag, all of the pictures and her little mementos she wanted to keep. A few books and her meds and gadgets and cash.

She couldn't find the front door key and instead of risking waking Joey, (Y/n) climbed out the bedroom window onto the fire escape and made her way to the nearest coach stop and got a ticket to LA.

She couldn't stay with her parents or either of her two sisters because they were all in Texas and Joey knew them. He knew where they lived and where they worked and he could easily find (Y/n). Right now, she wanted to hide away. She wanted to be as far away from Joey as possible and have a fresh start.

Eddie was always telling her how good it was here, how Chris loved it and they had new friends and a great work family. (Y/n) thought she could make a life for herself here with her brother and the few aunts they had down here.

"Are you hurt?"

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and took a deep breath to steady herself. She watched Eddie sit up straight on the table and she closed her eyes as she slowly took off her hoodie and lifted up her shirt. She didn't want to look down at the bruises starting to blossom around the left side of her chest. She didn't want to see the fingerprints on her wrists or the scratches down her neck. And she could feel the bruises and blood wheels on her scalp from where he grabbed her by her hair.

"You should have called me. I would of come down to get you-"

"You'd kill him." (Y/n) corrected, sadness pooling in her eyes when Eddie growled and raked his hand through his hair.

She wanted to call. She wanted to ring papi and ask him to come and get her, but he would of started a fight he couldn't win. She wanted to ring Eddie and beg him to come get her, but Eddie would have attacked Joey and been arrested. He wouldn't get (Y/n) without starting a fight with the man who attacked his little sister.

Making her way down here was the safest option for everyone and (Y/n) had done it. She knew Joey didn't know whereabouts in LA Eddie lived and none of the family would tell him. (Y/n) was safe here with Eddie.

"You can stay here as long as you want. He won't hurt you again, I won't let him."

Reaching out, (Y/n) curled her hands around Eddie's wrist and brought his hand to her lap. She ran her thumb across the back of his hand and managed to smile a little. "Can I ask another favour?"

"Anything."

"Could you tell ma and papi I'm here, a-and why?" (Y/n) knew what their parents would do and say. They would try and call the police and get (Y/n) to come home. They would fret if she was the one to call and tell them what had happened and where she had disappeared to. They thought it was a bad idea for Eddie and Chris to move out here and their parents would think the same about (Y/n).

But this was her choice. She had chosen to come down here and (Y/n) wanted to stay. She wasn't here for a vacation. This was a fresh start, a chance for (Y/n) to try and make a better life and be with her family. She was too lonely back in Texas and it was full of bad memories, she wanted to make some new ones.

She kept her eyes focused on Eddie's hand, but her smile softened when she felt him lean forward. He cupped the back of her head as gently as possible and leaned over so he could kiss the top of her head.

"Course I will, but let's go eat dinner first."

***

With her left hand coiled close to her chest, (Y/n) held her right hand out towards Chris and waited patiently for him to hop off the chair. He reached out to take her hand and tucked himself close into her side, leaning his head back on her waist so he could stare up at her with those big brown eyes that made her melt.

"Let's go home."

She could feel her left hand trembling against her chest and her head was spinning, trying to balance out her centre of gravity and keep herself stood up.

When Chris kindly grabbed her bag from the other chair, (Y/n) nodded and moved aside the thick material curtain that sectioned off each little cubicle in the emergency room.

"Miss- miss, you can't leave yet."

A grimace pulled at (Y/n)'s lips and she cringed as she coiled Chris tighter into her side and turned to look behind her at the nurse.

She didn't want to be here in the first place.

All (Y/n) had been trying to do was make her and Chris some lunch but when the knife slipped, it pierced through the edge of her palm and caught the base of her little finger. The blood wouldn't stop spurting out across the kitchen and amid the pain, (Y/n) started to lose the feeling in her finger. She didn't have a choice but to make her way down to the emergency room with Chris. With her hand wrapped in two tea towels and a lot of harsh stares and worried glances from onlookers on the bus.

Her hand was stitched up, Chris had had a lovely chat with one of the nurses and (Y/n) couldn't feel her hand now she was dosed with morphine and stitches. She wanted to go home and she needed to take her nephew back home.

"I've been seen to, I'm going home." (Y/n) let her eyes dart between her trembling hand and the nurse.

She wasn't waiting around when they had been here over an hour already. What more did they expect to do? She was stitched back together like a patchwork doll, she had been given pain relief and some antibiotics to take home so she didn't get an infection. She was alright now.

"You haven't been discharged yet, and we can't discharge you to leave alone. It would be better for someone to come and pick you up."

Anger radiated through (Y/n)'s chest as adrenaline sparked in her stomach. Why couldn't they just let her leave? She wasn't admitted into hospital so she didn't technically need to be discharged, she should be fine to leave on her own with Chris. She wasn't going to drive, she didn't have a car. They were getting the bus home which would be full of other people so if something bad happened, (Y/n) and Chris wouldn't be alone.

"Can we call someone to come collect y-"

"Uncle Buck!"

(Y/n) turned to look back in front of her when Chris abruptly pulled his hand out of her grasp and suddenly shot ahead.

She walked away from the nurse who followed on her tail, but her eyes focused solely on Chris who moved down the long corridor of cubicles when a flash of navy blue and florescent yellow caught his eye.

When Evan heard his name, he paused mid-walk on his way towards the emergency room reception. They had just finished bringing a burn victim down to the hospital and now they were in the burn unit, the team could leave and head back to the station.

Bobby and Eddie were waiting in the truck and Chimney was standing by the ambulance while Evan and Hen delivered the patient to the doctors.

"Chris, bud what are you doing here?"

Evan held his arms out and leaned down when Chris barrelled into his chest and wrapped around him like a vine. Why was he in the emergency room? What had happened? Was he alright? Who was he here with- was Carla with him? Surely Chris couldn't be here alone.

He looked alright. Evan trailed his hands up and down Chris's arms and around his sides to see if he had any cuts or bruises or tender spots, but he seemed perfectly fine. No traces of tears on his face, no redness or any signs to say he had been crying or that he was hurt or in pain.

"Aunt (Y/n) had an accident." Chris kept an arm around Evan's torso while he pointed behind him and turned to the side to see (Y/n) approach them.

Eddie's sister was here?

Evan didn't know any of Eddie's sisters and he couldn't say he remembered any of their names either. But he knew none of them lived here in LA. The only family Eddie had down here were his aunts and Eddie hadn't mentioned any family coming down to visit.

When Evan locked his eyes on the girl approaching them, he felt the adrenaline sparking up in his chest and his parted lips curved into a smile almost immediately.

He knew he looked a disshevelled mess, his hair had formed into wild bouncy curls from getting wet. He had dirt and soot covering his face like warrior paint. His florescent jacket was halfway off his shoulders and muck and dirt was sprayed all over his shirt and trousers. But Evan's smile brightened up his whole attire.

"Oh, is this your husband, miss?"

Panic struck a cord in (Y/n)'s chest and she looked rapidly between the nurse at her side and the man in front of her.

Chris called him uncle Buck. He had to be her brother's best friend, the one Eddie was always talking about. The guy Chris couldn't stop rambling about, who took him to the zoo and had him for sleepovers and who was basically like a second dad to him.

If he was here, that meant the rest of Eddie's team might be here. Eddie might be here. Either way, this was (Y/n)'s ticket out so she didn't have to wait around or have this nurse try and restrain her and stop her from leaving.

"Oh, yes it is… I can go with him, we won't be alone. Thank you." (Y/n) nodded at the nurse before she stepped closer and and moved to stand on Evan's other side. She needed the nurse to leave them alone so she could take Chris back home and pray Eddie wouldn't be too panicked or mad about what had happened today.

Her breath caught in her throat and her lips pressed together into a straight line when she felt Evan's arm curl around her side. He pressed his palm against her lower back between her hips and kept his other arm around Chris who was grinning up at him like they had all met at a theme park instead of a hospital.

"Thank you, I'll take them both home now." Evan started walking and guided the pair of them away from the cubicles until they were further down the hall, just shy of the reception area.

Once they were out of sight and there weren't people hovering around beside them or able to listen in, Evan lowered his arm back down to his side and kept Chris close to his leg.

"Thank you," (Y/n) murmured quietly while she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looked up at Evan through hooded lashes, feeling a fire igniting in her chest when his lips quirked into a soft smile that creased his eyes and showed his pearly whites.

"No problem… are you okay, why're you both here?"

"I had a cooking accident," She let her eyes dart down to her left hand but when she looked back up at him, Evan had already taken her hand to inspect it. His touch was soft and (Y/n) watched the way his dirt-ridden fingers traced across the back of her hand and turned it over so he could see the stitches along the side of her palm and up to her little finger.

"We can give you both a ride home… fancy another trip in the truck, bud?" Evan looked down at Chris who instantly cheered and nodded, pulling on Evan's other hand to make him begin to walk again.

"Would that be okay?" (Y/n) didn't want to be a burden, she felt fine and she could easily get the bus home with Chris. It wouldn't be a problem and she wouldn't want to get in the way or divert the team if they had to get back to the station or ended up on another call out.

"You think Eddie will let you head home alone? Besides, the nurse said your husband needs to take you home. I'd better listen to that advice, hm?"

The grin on Evan's face made a shiver crawl down (Y/n)'s neck and spine and she tilted her head down while her teeth sank down into her bottom lip.

She watched Chris move ahead and walk a few paces in front of them, making a beeline for Hen who was stood at the emergency room doors. Clearly waiting for Evan and wondering where he had got to. She grinned when she saw Chris and waited for him to run along to her while Evan hung back and walked beside (Y/n).

He dared to reach his hand out and move his palm back to (Y/n)'s lower back as they walked slowly towards the door.

"So, how long are you in town for? Eddie didn't mention you'd come over."

"I'm hoping to stay here, make a fresh start. I was a bit lonesome back home, and I missed the boys."

Eddie had told her she could stay with him and Chris for as long as she liked, and he was already helping her look for a place of her own close by. (Y/n) wanted to be as close to her brother and nephew as she could. Now she was here, she could babysit Chris when Eddie was at work so it all didn't fall on Carla or a sitter. She could start taking Chris out like she used to back in Texas and she could be close to Eddie and not feel homesick that he had gone and left her back home.

"Really? Well, you'll have to let me show you round sometime."

His words sparked a flurry of adrenaline coursing through (Y/n)'s stomach and she found herself smiling. She almost missed the feeling of Evan's hand on her lower back when they walked out the door just as Eddie hopped down from the truck. A panicked look on his face as he approached them to find out what was going on.

***

"Oh, hi Buck." (Y/n) leaned her forehead against the door and tried not to smile too brightly when she noticed who was at the door.

Her eyes dragged over his frame, up and down and back up again as if she were drinking him in with her eyes. He had a dark black button up shirt on that hugged his shoulders a little too snuggly and made his arms tense and strain whenever he flexed them. Each pearl white button stood out against the dark colour and looked like they were going to pop free from their seams if he inhaled too sharply.

He had his hands clasped tightly behind his back and one arm was leant up against the doorframe. His lips curved up into a smile and (Y/n) noticed the way they did a quick sweep up and down, the same as she had done to him.

"You've just missed Eddie, he's taken Chris shopping." She moved to the side and opened the door a little more, silently inviting Evan inside. Although she wasn't sure whether he would want to come in now he knew it was just her here.

"Ah, shame… but I was actually here to see you."

"Me?" (Y/n)'s hand tightened around the door handle and she shut the door behind Evan when he gingerly stepped inside.

"Is that so surprising?" Evan let his eyes commit the look of (Y/n) to memory while he followed after her into the kitchen. When she silently pointed towards the kettle, he nodded and moved towards the kitchen counter. He leaned his forearms down on the frozen countertop and folded them while his chest arched over and one leg crossed over the other.

"A little."

"So, how's my wife? Is your hand any better?"

The cheesy smile on Evan's face made (Y/n)'s stomach flip and she almost dropped the jaw of coffee she brought down from the cupboard. She turned away from looking over her shoulder and tried to focus on pouring the hot water into two cups.

When she placed one cup down in front of Evan, she stayed stood close enough that she could feel his elbow brushing her side.

He turned to face her, leaning his weight on his right elbow on the counter and his left hand reached out to take (Y/n)'s wrist. Her eyes danced across his hand that was no longer covered in soot and dirt and marvelled at his hand hand engulfed her own. His touch was careful and his thumb brushed across hers while he lifted their hands so he could further inspect it.

The swelling seemed to have gone down over the last few days and the stitches looked like they were holding. Her finger still looked like it had taken a bit of damage though and Evan wondered if she would get any feeling back or if she would lose use of her finger. There were over five stitches surrounding the base of her little finger.

"I'm sorry, about saying you were my husband… I just wanted to take Chris home." (Y/n) had seen Evan twice since meeting him at the hospital and each time he had made a little comment about calling her his wife.

It was only in jest, of course, but whenever he said it, (Y/n) felt like her heart was going to explode in her chest and the way he smiled at her sent her mind reeling.

"Ah, I didn't mind. It worked, didn't it?"

"So, what did you want to see me about?" (Y/n) cradled her cup in her good hand so it didn't burn into her stitches and bring about the swelling that had just started to go down.

Her eyes stayed focused on Evan who seemed to down half his coffee before he tried to look across at her. His lips stayed quirked up at one side in a lopsided smile and he looked down at his cup before he let their gazes interlock again.

"I wondered if you'd fancy going out this afternoon? I did say I'd show you around. And Eddie said you haven't left the house much since you got here."

Adrenaline blundered through (Y/n)'s blood, coursing all over her body and she took a deep breath. Why was he asking her? What was so special about her that Evan had decided he wanted to be around her?

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to show me around? There's nothing special about me, Buck. And you don't have to try and get me out and about, if Eddie's put you up to it."

Evan's brows rose and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth as he tried to think up a response. He wasn't here under Eddie's instruction. He hadn't even told Eddie he would stop by to talk to (Y/n) because Evan knew how that would go. Eddie might not take too kindly to Evan hanging around his little sister and trying to get her to go out on a date with him. Eddie was protective.

He didn't think he would have to give (Y/n) a reason why he wanted to take her out. No one had ever asked him that before. Of course he had his reasons, but he'd never had to explain them to anyone.

"Do you usually ask guys to explain why they wanna take you on a date?"

(Y/n) placed her cup down on the counter and started to drag her fingertip across the smooth marbel feature. He was asking her on a date. He wanted to take her out on a date. One of Eddie's colelagues- his best friend- was asking her out. None of Eddie's friends back home had ever been interested in (Y/n). They always hung around Sophia and clung to her like flies and she always brushed them away.

(Y/n) wasn't used to anyone paying her any attention. Joey had been the only guy interested in her and (Y/n) soon realised he wasn't the kind of guy she wanted to be around.

"I… I don't see why you'd wanna take me anywhere, that's all." She grimaced at how pathetic she sounded but her heart jolted in her chest when Evan's hand curled around hers.

"Because I think you're caring and funny and I can't seem to get you out my head. I'm willing to risk Eddie's wrath if you'll let me take you out. Please?"

He let go of his coffee cup and moved until he was standing back up to his full height. He liked the height advantage he had over her. Evan liked looking down at (Y/n) and having her have to tilt her head upwards so she could face him. He liked the way she fluttered her lashes at him and tried to bite the corner of her lip to dispell her smile and hide it from him.

Evan was starting to become infatuated with (Y/n). Whenever he bumped into her or came round to see Eddie and she was here, he felt like a magnet that was drawn to her and he wasn't sure why. But he was willing to learn why he felt this magnetic pull towards her and he would risk Eddie's anger when he found out.

"I don't have the best track record with dates or dating… I moved out here to get away from my ex."

"Me neither. But I won't hurt you or frighten you away, I can promise you that." Evan took a leap of faith and moved his hand to hold her hip while his other hand carefully cupped the bottom of her chin and tilted her head when she tried to look down at her feet.

He didn't have a good dating history, all the girls he fell for seemed to leave him when he needed them the most or they took him for granted or played him like a guitar. But Evan wasn't the kind of person who would purposely try and hurt (Y/n). He wouldn't push her or hurt her enough to make her move thousands of miles away to be free of him. Everyone could vouch for that.

"Well, I guess you've already won my brother over, and Chris loves you." (Y/n) let her smile beam on her face as she looked up at him.

She wouldn't have to worry about what her big brother would think of her partner if she went ahead on a date with Evan. Eddie thought the world of Evan and Chris loved him too. That went in their favour and that spoke volumes about Evan. (Y/n) didn't have to worry about the kind of man he was, she had heard how amazing and brilliant and sweet he was from Chris and Eddie every time they spoke.

"Does this mean I can take you out?"

His lips hovered so close (Y/n) could smell and just about taste the coffee on them without touching him. She danced her eyes across his ruby red lips before she looked back up at his eyes that drew her in and consumed her whole.

"Well, it would be rude not to take your wife out, wouldn't it?"

She could see stars dancing behind her eyes when Evan leaned down and kissed her. She could feel the sparks flooding from his lips into hers and her skin ignited when his thumb and finger pressed harder into her chin and his other hand curved round from her hip to cradle her lower back. He used his arm like a rope and pulled her closer until her front was meshed up into his chest and her hands moved to rest on his broad shoulders to steady herself.

Maybe moving down here had been a good idea after all.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

shower sex with 07 raph?! 🤭😩

Shower Sex (18+)

2007!Raphael x reader

A/N: And two weeks later, it is finally here! Some quick shower sew with Raphie boy! Hope you enjoy❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Sex (of course. Very creative of me), spelling.

“Fuck”, Raph groaned as he slowly pulled out of you your still swollen cunt. You whimpered at the loss of Raph’s cock, filling empty as you clung around nothing. Raph down beside you, his eyes closed with heavy breathing, sweat running down his skin, just like yours. “That was exactly what I needed”.

You chuckled at your boyfriend, snuggling closer to him, feeling his toned arm wrap around you. “Too tired for a second round?”, you asked in a teasing tone, resting your head on his chest, sneaking your weak naked legs around his, whimpering slightly at the small pain in your muscles.

“I’m never too tired for a second around”, Raph laughed, pulling you in closer to him. “But I could use a shower”.

“Me too”, you said, grimacing at the smell that came from your sweaty skin. You could only imagine how badly you smelled to your boyfriend with his heightened sense of smell. It could not be nice.

You and Raph went into your bathroom, turning on the shower head, letting it run as you got ready. Finding towels for the two of you, making sure they were ready when you got out of the shower. Raph took off his bandana, before reaching a hand into the shower, feeling the temperature, acting like he couldn’t feel your eyes on the back of his head.

You often found yourself staring at Raph, wondering how you could have been so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, admiring his features when you thought he wasn’t looking. A mutant turtle with the wildest stamina, and the most caring personality you had ever encountered. He was incredibly handsome and extremely talented in everything he did. He was everything you could have ever wanted and yet so much better.

Your eyes traveled over Raph’s body, the curve of his shell and the form of his toned muscles, and how they flexed whenever he moved, along with the soft movements of his small tail that poked out underneath his shell. Your thoughts went straight to what you and Raph had been doing in your bathroom just a few moments ago. How he had been pounding into you, keeping you moaning and whimpering in absolute bliss. The small flashback made your stomach tingle, a small rush of excitement running down between your legs.

Raph turned to you, his eyes doing a quick run over of your still naked body, lingering at your mount between your thighs. Even with the water running next to him, he knew what you were feeling. He could smell it, a smirk spreading on his face.

“Like what you’re seeing?”, he asked, his raspy voice sending shivers down your spine, directly towards your lower region, only making your sweet scent stronger for Raph’s nose. There were still times where he almost couldn’t believe that this was real. You, such a beautiful human, being in love with him, your body reacting to him in such beautiful ways.

“Of course I do”, you said, taking a few steps towards him, your soft fingertips reaching for his toned biceps. “I could stare at you for hours”.

“You’re saying it like you don’t do that already”, Raph chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, keeping his still wet hand inside the shower. His dry hand going a little lower on your back, reaching closer and closer to your ass, slowly grabbing on to it, enjoying the small sound that came out of you. “You stare like I haven’t just fucked your brains out a moment ago”.

You bit your lip, not sure what to say. Raph would always shock you with such comments, causing excitement to build up inside of you. The glint in his eyes and the smirk that played in his lips. You could feel the heat build up between your legs, slowly moving them together in an attempt to create some type of fiction. And Raph loved it when his straight-forward comments did such things to you.

“I can’t help it”, you smiled, feeling your cheeks getting hot, not from embarrassment but by the increasing beat of your heart. Yet another bit to your lips as you took in his features once more. The things just the sight of him could do to you. You still remembered the days before you got together, where you could only pleasure yourself to the thought of him. “You just look too good for me not to stare”.

Raph chuckled, pulling you with him under the rushing water of the shower head. You hummed in delight at the comfortable temperature, as it fell over you and Raph, wetting your skin and slowly washing the sweat off, drop by drop.

The hand that still rested on your butt cheek another squish, making your jump a little, your eyes meeting his playful once. Obviously your previous comment had stroked his ego just the right way, making his thoughts and hands tingle with the desire to feel around your skin once more.

You didn’t get to say a word before his lips found yours in a playful kiss, just like they had done inside your bedroom. You hummed against his lips and rested your arms around his neck, parting your mouth slightly as his tongue asked for entrance.

Raph’s other hand found your other ass cheek, pulling you closer to him, grinding you ever so slowly against his cloaca, churning as small sounds escaped your lips, being just loud enough for him to hear through the sound of water hitting the bathroom tiles.

One of the hands went from your ass, slowly over your hip, getting closer and closer to the growing heat between your legs, that was only getting stronger. Stronger for your nerves, and stronger for Raph’s nose.

“Already ready for round two?”, he asked in a low voice, that almost made you close your breath, as his lips still lingered against yours. His hand dipping down between your legs, doing a smooth sweep over your already slick folds, making sure to give your still sensitive clit a small flick, making you shiver at his touch.

“I’m always ready for you, Raph”, you smiled, leaning your head back just a little.

In one swift move, Raph picked you up, once again with both hands on your cheeks in order to support you. You yelped and brought your legs around his torso, as far as his shell allowed you to. He was quick to press you up against the tile wall, making you squirm a little as your back came into contact with the cold stone. However you soon felt warmth spread through you once more, as you felt Raph press his cloaca up against your entrance, lining himself up with you.

“Then let’s skip the foreplay”, he groaned as he slowly humped against you, listening to your heavy breathing. “I’m going to drop straight into you”.

You whimpered a little, feeling yourself getting wetter by his words. Raph had never been a Shakspear, but his words did something to you everytime. Making you hot and excited for when he would fill you out, even if he had done so a little earlier in the day.

“Please do it, Raph”, you whimpered, clinging onto him as he continuously grounded himself against you, already feeling the desire burn inside of you at the thought of him filling your freshly fucked cunt up once again.

“I love it when you’re eager”, Raph growled with that self satisfied smirk of his, feeling himself getting closer and closer to drop inside of you. His lips found yours once again, pressing himself closer to you, you breast pressed up against his plastron - a feeling both of you loved.

You gasped, your mouth open wide as you felt Raph drop into you, stretching your very sensitive walls as made his way into you. Raph groaned, not letting you relax before he was fully inside of you, your walls instinctively clinging around his shaft and sensitive head.

With the water still raining down over you, Raph started moving, pulling himself out of you before pushing back in, making you rest your head against the wall.

“How can you always feel so good?”, Raph asked between thrust, slightly increasing his speed, throwing his head back in pleasure. “Fuck!”

The sound of your wet skin slapping together started to echo against the tile walls, only becoming faster and faster as you bounced against the wall, Raph’s dick hitting the most amazing spots inside of you.

You were surprised at how fast the pressure was building in your lower region. You blamed the good fucking Raph had given you just before the shower, and all of your overly sensitive spots, but you could not complain. It felt amazing, just like any other time Raph pounding into you.

Raph felt your walls slowly close around him, groaning as he rested his head against your shoulder, pressing small kisses to your pulse point.

“Raph!”, you called out, your nails digging into his skin. “Keep going! Fuck! I’m getting close!”

Raph growled, quickly pulling your legs up over his forearms, before thrusting into you once again, his speed only getting greater, the bottom of his plastron rubbing deliciously against your clit. You cried out in pleasure, not caring one bit that your neighbors might have gotten very tired of you at that point.

Your toes started to curl as you felt yourself getting closer and closer, fighting to ground yourself with the grip you had on Raph’s shoulder, the water rolling down your body making all of your nerve endings light on fire, along with Raph’s heavy breathing and beautiful voice.

With a scream of pleasure, your second orgasm of the day rolled over you, causing your walls to clench around Raph, pushing him over the edge as well. With a loud and raspy moan, Raph came, emptying himself inside of you with each of his strokes.

Raph got ready to pull out, only for you to stop him, still with your legs over his forearms.

“Not yet”, you breathed, remembering how empty you felt when he pulled out of you earlier. “Just a little longer”.

Raph chuckled with a slight head shake, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re something else, (Y/N)”, he said, making sure he had a good hold on you. With his strength, he could easily hold you up for a little longer. “Thought we agreed to take a shower”.

“Just a moment”, you smiled tiredly. “And then a third round after a few snacks”.

“Deal”.

[paradiseprincesss]

dangerous woman | jonathan crane

i'm sure everyone is familiar with the album cover of "dangerous woman" and what she's wearing on it. if you don't, then i feel like the outfit and nickname won't make sense in this fic !!!

summary: you've been stealing the scarecrow's fear toxin for months, and finally, he catches you red handed.

warnings: smut, p in v, bondage, rough sex, general adult content lol, MDNI 18+ only

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

you’d been stealing the scarecrow’s fear toxin for months now — and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. 

it was profitable, okay? you would steal his supply, leaving him empty handed, and selling it at a much higher price to the criminals of gotham city. easy money, light work. simply put, you were running him out of his own business. 

jonathan was growing increasingly more frustrated with this mysterious thief that was stealing his supply — it’d been months and yet he couldn’t catch the guy. “the guy” — yes, he thought perhaps this was the work of one of the many dangerous men in gotham. 

this type of organized, deliberate crime couldn’t possibly be done by a woman working all alone — wrong. he was so wrong. this was exactly the type of crime that would be committed by a woman such as yourself. he was a psychiatrist for crying out loud, shouldn’t it be in his job description to know personality types? 

jonathan had his goons working overtime, keeping a keen eye on the drug shipments, but it was no use — you were one step ahead of jonathan every time. jonathan was ready to snap his glasses in two at this point. for someone who was trained in human behavior and complex criminal psychology, you would think he would be able to detect a pattern by now. 

tonight, you had big plans — you were going to steal his toxin from his warehouse directly.

forget shipments and hideouts, this time you were going big or going home. it was all or nothing — and right now, you wanted it all. 

your fitted, latex, corset-esque bodysuit clung to your figure as did your matching, latex thigh-high pleasers. the cherry on the top was the black bunny ears you accessorized with.

sure, it was a little risque, even bordering on kinky, but hey — it screamed dangerous woman. it was like wearing a caution sign but in the best way.

something that said: “i bite.”

dressed in your usual attire, you head to his warehouse in the dead of night. you sacrificed a prolific amount of late nights to figure out the location of this warehouse, but it would all be worth it once you were drowning in piles of cash after profiting off of his toxin. 

you’d been watching him for months — you even knew where he lived. you knew his profession, his full legal name, where he grew up, what type of food he ordered the most when he got takeout…

but what can i say? you were dedicated to your job — your morally dubious and ethically questionable job, but still a job nonetheless!

you strategically checked every entrance point of his warehouse (which, by the way, took a total of two hours of driving and twenty minutes of walking in high heels to get to!), making sure that there were no cameras or potential threats waiting outside. once you decided it was safe, you went through the back door. 

how, you ask? well, it was simple — you had a key replicated ages ago when you’d first broken into his office back at arkham asylum. in fact, you had all of his keys replicated. you know, just in case. 

stop asking why — it was for personal reasons!

after sneaking into the warehouse, you flicked on the lights and started to rummage around immediately. you came here for one thing and one thing only; fear toxin — and lots of it. you looked up at the ceiling as if some higher power up above would answer your calls. please, you thought, show me what i'm looking for.

god was your witness that night — and your prayers were answered. 

…just not in the way you thought they’d be.

as you were bent over, half hidden behind a bunch of empty crates, you were digging through piles of miscellaneous items. you were locked and loaded, so very focused on the task at hand, that you didn’t hear the front door creaking open quietly. 

jonathan heard shuffling once he entered his warehouse, the lights being turned on clearly indicated someone was here. jonathan did not panic, however — he believed that the feeling of panic and anxiety was useless to the human body. how could he make rational decisions when his mind was filled with the what if’s?

he was certain that this time, he’d caught the thief that had been stealing his toxin red handed — finally. however, as he got closer to you, he realized that you were not at all what he was imagining you to be. as he inched closer and closer, he saw two little bunny ears peeking above some empty crates.

he silently made his way around the crates, only to be met with a sight that caused his jaw to drop slightly and his cheeks to turn pink. 

you were bent over in your latex bodysuit, on your knees, rummaging through a pile of random things and the best part? you were completely oblivious to the scarecrow standing directly behind you, watching you poke your ass out as the bunny ears on your head moved every time your head did.

jonathan cleared his throat, causing you to startle. you turned around as a small gasp left your lips. once you looked up at him, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes — they were so blue. he seemed to have noticed you staring though, as he raised a brow and gave you an opportunity to explain yourself silently.

“um,” you started a little nervously, “hey?”

you mentally face palmed yourself — all you could come up with was an “um, hey?” so much for being one step ahead all the time.

“that’s quite the costume you have on," jonathan said smoothly, looking at you through the frames of his glasses. “i assume you’re the one who’s been stealing my supply?” 

you stayed silent as he loomed over you — he was tall. very tall. he was still standing above you as you sat almost obediently on the cold, concrete floor of the warehouse. empty handed at that. 

“listen, bunny,” he continued, “do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me?” 

finally, you found your voice. “i do — that’s why i did it.” 

“is that right?” jonathan said, crouching down so that he was now at your level. you felt awfully immature; but it was kind of…exhilarating. to be in the presence of someone so dangerous, just like you. “you’re not what i was expecting.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head to emphasize your question. his eyes darted to your black bunny ears, then back to your face. he didn't answer your question, but instead, he reached his hand out towards you. 

hesitantly, you took a hold of it as he helped you up. “do you always go around stealing what doesn’t belong to you in outfits so…promiscuous?” he asked, eyeing your body up and down shamelessly. 

“...i’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted shyly, watching his eyes trail along every part of you. “i get off on the thrill, mostly.” 

jonathan almost choked when he heard your response — if he wasn’t so attracted to you, he would’ve sprayed an extra concentrated dose of fear toxin in your face. he was standing so close to you now that you could smell his cologne — montblanc, if you remembered correctly. 

“maybe we could work out a deal,” he suggested, his voice low and almost…sultry. “i won’t kill you or turn you into the feds — if you give me what’s mine.” 

a feeling of sheer panic surged through your veins; you’d already sold all the drugs you seized from him. it’s not like you just could get any of it back, and now your life was on the line.

“i-i already sold the drugs—”

“not that,” he reprimanded, eyeing you down hungrily, “i think you know where i'm going with this.”

you stared at him blankly for a moment before you felt your cheeks heat up at his insinuation. he didn’t want the drugs, no — he wanted you. according to jonathan, you were his now. 

i mean, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it? 

jonathan was not one to fall so easily, but once he laid his eyes on you, his heart stopped. a beautiful, young, witty woman who was also a thrill seeking, danger loving felon? you were just asking to be his. it didn’t help that you came dressed like you were a triple-x star, either.

“well, what’s it going to be, bunny?” he asked softly, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“what tough choices,” you pouted, looking up at him as you feigned distress, “i don't know what i'm going to do, jonathan.” 

he paused, his hand coming to grab your face gently. “how do you know my name?” he asked, his tone sharp. 

“i know everything about you — i've been watching you for months.” 

he was silent as his jaw clenched slightly. a tell that his calm, collected persona was about to crumble at any given moment — you had him where you wanted him. “i see,” he replied calmly, “i should have you admitted to arkham, really. something is very wrong inside of that pretty little head of yours.” 

you didn’t say anything back, but you bit your lip softly whilst looking into his impossibly blue eyes.

that, however, seemed to be the trigger that pushed jonathan over the edge, because suddenly, he had you pressed up against the cold cement walls of his warehouse. your ass was pressed up against the obvious tent in his pants as your face was met with the rough texture of the cement. 

“i’m going to test your limits,” he breathed, “a little experiment between you and i.” 

“i live for danger,” you mumbled against the wall, not letting up as he continued to threaten you. his threats were fuelling you, if anything — didn’t he hear you when you said that you got off on the thrill of things? 

“prove it, bunny,” he challenged, and you pushed away from the wall, grabbing him by the tie that hung loosely around his neck. 

holding onto it with an iron grip, you brought your lips awfully close to his as you whispered out to him. “take this off,” you instructed, “and tie me up.”

“rope bunny — i should have known.” he teased back, undoing his tie. 

roughly, he pulled your body back against his. your ass was flush against his bulge, and he bound your wrists up with his silky, red tie. “walk,” he commanded softly, guiding you into a whole separate room — a room with an old bed. 

he helped you sit on the edge of the bed before shutting the door completely, making his way back over to you. with your hands tied, you were limited in terms of mobility, but jonathan's hands were free — and he intended to make very good use of them. 

“latex,” he pointed out, reaching over to your bodysuit, “bold choice...but it looks good on you.” 

his comment caught you off guard — his tone was far too sweet for what was about to go down. his voice had you in a trance for a moment, but the feeling of him trying to maneuver your garment off of your body brought you back to reality. after a few moments of fumbling with the tight suit, he finally got you out of it. 

his lips were on yours in mere seconds, kissing you roughly as he squeezed the sides of your neck gently. he continued to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you both moaned into the steamy kiss. however, after a few minutes, he breathlessly pulled away and took a good look at the sight that was in front of him.

you were suddenly very aware of how exposed you were — it’s not like you wore a bra or any panties underneath your latex bodysuit. there’s nothing quite like the thrill of wearing nothing underneath to get your blood flowing…

he let out a heavy breath, looking slightly disheveled as he took in every inch of your perfect body. the way your tits sat up, the way your skin was slightly flushed, the way you were on display like an art piece at some french museum — you were a divinity.

not to mention those latex thigh-highs that you still had on — and the bunny ears, too. fuck, maybe he’d keep you like this. take a picture and frame it to really make a point of you being an art piece for his eyes only. 

suddenly, he harshly pushed you down and flipped you around on the bed so that your stomach was against the mattress.

he hoisted your hips upwards, putting you in a face down ass up position. the way he positioned you made how wet you were all the more obvious, your glistening cunt on display for him as he choked back a moan at just the sight of you this powerless.

you heard his pants being unzipped, along with the sound of his belt being undone, and his hard, thick cockhead was brushing up against your sticky folds. he pushed into your tight hole, making the both of you moan. his hands were suddenly reaching for your bound ones, gripping onto the tie as he started to fuck you mercilessly. 

“j-jon!” you squeaked out against the sheets as you felt his cock drilling into you at a brutal pace, sure to leave you sore for days to come. “s-slow down, f–uck!”

“you can take it, bunny,” he assured you lowly, continuing to ram into your tight little hole. “you’re going to fucking. take. it.”

you let out a strangled moan, feeling his cock brush up against that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. it was only a matter of time before you were creaming his cock, the angle giving him access to the deepest parts of you. you were certain that at one point, you swore you’d felt him inside of your stomach with how deep and how forcibly he was fucking your cunt. 

“is this what you — fuck —  wanted, bunny?” he groaned, giving your ass a harsh smack with one hand as the other was still gripping the tie around your wrists. “you just needed to have your tight little pussy stretched by my thick fucking cock?” 

“y-yes, fuck yes!” you whined, “i need to be filled, j-jonathan please—”

“i know,” he cooed with faux sympathy, “you’re such a needy little bunny. you get a cock in your tight fucking cunt and suddenly you’re not so tough anymore, are you?” 

his words went straight to your core, rather than your head, soaking you even further and making his cock slip in and out of you with pure ease. he was slamming himself into your dripping cunt, fucking you raw as you took him so deep that you were full on screaming his name over and over again.

“j-jonathan, fuuuck!” you wailed, letting him ruin you entirely.

this wasn’t exactly how you planned the night to go, but it was better than you’d imagined. better than you’d hoped. you couldn’t dwell on the thought for very long though, because suddenly he was pulling out of you right before you were about to come, much to your displeasure.

you whined, causing him to scoff a laugh. he flipped you over to that you were looking at him now, in missionary, before he sunk back into you. you let out a bratty whine along with a pout. your hands were still tied so you couldn’t touch him — and you were getting desperate. 

“please!” you exasperated as he fucked you stupid, “let me t-touch you, oh my god—”

jonathan watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and finally, he decided you’d been good enough for a reward. he reached behind your back, still balls deep inside of your warm, wet hole, and quickly undid the knot around your wrists.

and as soon as your wrists were free — you were clawing at his back. 

“fuck,” jonathan groaned, feeling your hands pawing at him.

his hand suddenly reached down, playing with your clit as you mewled out incoherent babbles and pleas. he continued to press his fingers against your bundle of nerves, bringing you closer and closer to the edge once more as he plowed you. 

your cunt was dripping with your arousal, you’d never been so wet in your life. you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as you were close to coming, and jonathan moaned as he felt your cunt flutter around his thick cock. “close?” he asked breathlessly, and you just nodded — unable to speak as your orgasm washed over you in a blur.

“thaaaat’s it,” he growled, “pretty baby.” 

you whined, looking to the side as you came down from your high, but he continued to ram himself deeper and deeper into your cunt. you reached for his biceps, clinging onto them for dear life as his cock stretched your walls right open. 

“i’m about to come, fuck!” he groaned. “should i come inside? i think i will — you like the thrill, right bunny?” 

before you could protest, he was spilling his warm, thick cum into your abused little cunt. you were on birth control but you hadn’t taken your pills in days — so you were going to have to figure this out later, after the reality of what could happen would set in. he was right though; you did love a good thrill. something to get your adrenaline pumping and your blood rushing. 

you were a fear addict, and he was the supplier of fear — you were freakishly perfect for each other in all the worst ways. 

after both his and your endorphin levels gradually calmed down, he pulled out and watched the mixture of his sticky, white cum and your arousal drip out of you.

“you know, i could use someone like you to help me distribute my toxin — i'd pay you more than whatever you're making now.” he said after a minute, and your head shot up.

of course — his version of pillowtalk was bringing up business. he seemed to read your thoughts unnervingly well though, because before you could say anything, he was talking once more.

“we’d make a good team, don’t you think? since you’re my girl now and all.” he teased.

“am i?” you teased back, placing a kiss on his plush lips. “hm, i don’t see the harm — i'm game if you are.”

“that’s my girl.” he said softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “i’m curious though, out of all the people in gotham — what made you want to steal from me?”

“what can i say?” you whispered, “somethin’ bout you makes me wanna do things that i shouldn’t.” 

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii 

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura

[longtallglasses]

saw this post, original post from @jonathanbyersphd :) and wrote a little goodbye ritual. here on ao3

Will sadly plots his feet back down the stairs to the basement, just having received a devastating call home from his Mother.

Mike and Lucas sit beside each other on the rug near the bookshelf. They had all been playing with Mike’s toys for hours at this point, abandoning whatever they had been watching on the TV when they arrived.

He stands at the landing for a minute watching them, not knowing how to bring up this horrible news.

Mike seems to sense his presence and looks up, his brow furrowing at Will’s less-than-happy face, “Will? What’s wrong?”

Looking down at his feet, kicking them nervously, Will mumbles, “My mom just called. She’s coming to get me soon.”

“No!” Lucas begins to yell, but Mike quickly interrupts, overpowering his sentiment.

“What!” Mike exclaims, shooting up to run over to him, “Noo, no, no, you can’t go, we still haven’t fought off the forest warriors. We need you for that, we need our wizard!”

“I know,” Will says sadly, hating to see the despair take over Mike’s face. They were so close, so close to victory.

Mike quickly takes Will’s face in his hands, covering his ears to save him from Mike yelling, “Mom! Mom!”

They hear the telltale signs of Karen’s feet pattering through the kitchen. She opens up the basement door and looks down at them, “Michael, what are you yelling about?”

“Will can’t go! Call his Mom back, we need more time! It’s too early!” He shouts as he keeps his palms over Will’s eardrums.

Mrs. Wheeler sighs, looking down at his son’s astounding anguish over a friend leaving that he will no doubt see the next day. “It’s not too early. The Byers’ have something planned tonight, Will has to go, you’ll see him soon,” She says, trying to placate her distraught son.

“Noo!” Mike cries again.

“Michael. It’s final.” She states seriously and leaves the boys to mourn their loss.

Mike removes his hands from Will’s ears to wrap his arms around him, “You can’t go,” he whines.

From behind them Lucas rolls his eyes, as the third member of the group he’d grown quite accustomed to the antics of the other two when they inevitably had to say goodbye. He didn’t really understand it—the way they clung to each other and professed dramatic words about when they would next see each other. He feels no pull to perform such a show like they did.

Lucas watches on in un-amusement as Mike pulls away from Will, suddenly excited, “Your hat! Quick get your hat!”

Will’s face lights up, no longer looking as if he’s on his way to the gallows. running over to the couch to scrounge between the cushions looking for his wizard’s hat. Mike for his part, darts to their pile of costume pieces laying out, taking hold of his wooden sword and pretends to secure it in its holster under his arm.

“Will the Wise!” Mike calls out dramatically, puffing out his chest as Will finds his purple pointed wizard’s hat and pulls it over his head.

“Mike the Mighty!” Will calls back, standing on the couch and gazing across imaginary miles to his companion.

Lucas on the ground crosses his arms, settling down to begrudgingly watch the show. A show he’s watched almost everyday now this year since he became friends with the two.

“My wizard, I’ve searched for signs of your magic for a hundred miles now, and now we must part again so suddenly!” Mike falls to his knees, lowering his head to his chest.

“My paladin, I’ve been casting calls in the night to reach you, hoping you’d follow them and find me,” Will jumps down from the couch to approach Mike, who looks up at him, eyes sparkling, “But my prowess is needed elsewhere this evening, I must leave you now,”

Mike stands, bringing his sword up, and with a gallant swish bestows the wooden blade on each of Will’s shoulders, “I grant you my protection even in my absence. My dear friend, I will follow you to the ends of the land to keep you safe,”

A faint pink hue blossoms across Will’s cheeks, “And I you. My magic will always follow you,” Will tells him, taking the hold of Mike’s wrist that grips his sword, bringing them slightly closer, “If you are ever in danger I will be standing beside you. You have your shield?”

Sighing loudly, Lucas falls onto his back, picking up the toy dinosaur at his side and idly fiddling with its arms, patiently waiting for his friends to reach the end of this tired, tired, production.

“Yes!” Mike declares—he doesn’t actually—but he bolsters his arm out like it’s sheathed on his forearm.

Will places his hands on his arm, “Remember my magic lives in here too, if you are attacked I will be your shield,”

Nodding seriously, Mike places his hand over Will’s, “I remember. I could never forget.”

Lucas groans, “Are you guys done yet?”

“Silence Sundar!” Mike cries, keeping his eyes on Will, “my wizard is leaving me, I must say goodbye properly,”

Will smiles through a giggle, but composes himself, “Not leaving. This is not a goodbye my paladin,”

“No. You’re right, it’s not,” Mike agrees softly, “we will reunite quite soon,”

“And our adventures will continue,” Will finishes.

Mike smiles, “Please journey safely,”

“Will’s Mom isn’t even here yet,” Lucas complains.

Will’s hands grip Mike’s arm tighter, “I’ll be thinking of you with every step I take, and every spell I cast,”

Mike takes hold of his shoulder, “Every swing of my sword and every battle cry I yell will be for you, my wizard,”

“Oh my god,” Lucas moans, rolling over to bury his face in his arms.

The scene goes on for several minutes. The wizard and the paladin continue to recount the ways in which they will be with each other in their absence, how they will reunite, and how they will continue on stronger together than when they parted. Lucas, their ranger, having to bear witness in agony to the whole drama.

Finally a knock comes to the door of the basement. A ring of reprieve for the ranger, and a sounding of distress for the other two party members.

“Will, Joyce is here!” they hear Mrs. Wheeler call out to them.

The two mothers probably know the boys will not come so easily to those words, opening the door and taking a few steps down to survey the severity of this particular goodbye today.

Joyce stands with an amused grin a few steps up from the bottom landing, watching as the two boys scramble back to the other side of the room in hiding, “No!” They cry.

“Will, it’s time to say goodbye,” Joyce says, trying to sound light and positive.

“Mom, please just a bit longer,” Will begs, standing behind the arm of the couch with Mike, as if the small barrier would protect them.

Joyce sighs, “Will you know Grandma is visiting, we gotta go. You’ll see Mike tomorrow,” she reasons.

“But that’s forever away!” Mike cries, holding Will against him and pulling him behind him.

“Michael,” Karen cuts in, “Let your friend go,”

Mike shakes his head, defiant, grumbling, “Mm-mm,”

Watching on from his place on the floor, Lucas rolls his eyes for a third time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Mike,” Will says softly, “It’s okay, I will see you tomorrow,” giving in to make his friend feel better.

Mike turns to him in betrayal, “No wait, we haven’t finished our goodbye,” he tries desperately.

Will smiles, the finish, his favorite part. The part he imagines in his mind when he rests his head on his pillow at night.

It’s not anything crazy, but it’s the way they do it. Will nods, “Yeah, yeah, let’s finish,” he says.

Mike kneels again, placing a hand over his heart, “Until whence we meet again, Will the Wise, I’ll be preparing for our next adventure,” he looks up at Will, appearing strong in his sorrow.

Will mirrors the action, placing a hand over his own heart, “Until then, Mike the Mighty, my full strength won’t return until I see you,”

Outstretching his arm, Mike offers his hand palm up, which Will slides his into. Mike brings his hand to his lips, leaving the chastest kiss upon his knuckles.

Somewhere in the room the two women giggle at the show, and the ranger rolls his eyes for a fourth time. Yet the wizard and paladin pay them no mind, their gaze locked with their hands clasped.

Mike abruptly breaks the dramatics of the moment, leaping up from his knees, “Okay, bye!” he says jovially, as he engulfs Will in his arms into a tight hug.

“Bye,” Will whispers, squeezing back as hard as he can.

“Okay,” Karen sighs, “You’ve said your goodbye now,”

Mike sways them back and forth, pulling Will off his heels for a moment, “Bye,” he says again, quieter this time, just for Will’s ears.

Eventually Will and his Mother make their exit, leaving Mike and Lucas alone at last in the basement.

“Do you guys seriously have to do that every time?” Lucas asks, exasperated and exhausted from having to have had to live through the Mike and Will show once more.

Mike looks at him like he’s crazy, “Yes,” he answers indignantly.

“Why?”

“Because…” Mike thinks for a minute, “because our bond is just special, you wouldn’t understand,” he finishes with a shrug, but an apparent blush has appeared on his face.

Lucas shakes his head, “We seriously need a new party member,” he decides.

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

High School (Part 2)

Kim Minji x Reader

Part 1

GENRE: angst, fluff

TYPE: Two Shot - Final Part Inspired by: bansanka - tuki.

A/N: this has been long overdue! i received several requests for the second part but never really found the inspiration to finish it. then earlier this year, while on a work trip in osaka, i stumbled across this song playing in the background of the izakaya i was at. it was one in the morning, the streets were deserted and lonely, and it just clicked with me how this could be something the minji here would definitely relate to. so, tada! hope you enjoy this final part.

The soft hum of the air conditioning ruffled Minji’s hair as she stood at the center of the empty stage, gazing out at the deserted seats. The once-thriving stadium, now half-dark, was strewn with colored ribbons, a reminder of the vibrant energy that filled the space just hours ago. Thousands of voices had chanted her name, but in this quiet moment, all Minji could feel was the loneliness.

It was a familiar ache—one that had followed her for five years, since the day she left you crying on your doorstep. The very same doorstep where she had confessed her love for you.

Lately, she’d been missing you more than usual, which was saying something because there wasn’t a day when you didn’t cross her mind. Through Jimin, your mutual friend, she knew that you had gone to college in the States with Jimin, and here she was now, closer to you than she’d been in years.

Breathing the same air.

Just a few hours’ drive away, that’s all it would take. The thought made her heart ache even more. Were you in the crowds today? Had you cheered her on from the stands, hidden among the sea of strangers? Did you miss her as much as she missed you?

“You okay, bro?” Hanni’s soft voice broke through Minji’s thoughts. The shorter girl walked over and sat down beside her, swinging her legs over the edge of the stage like a little kid.

“Yeah, just tired.” Minji shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant.

But Hanni wasn’t fooled. She knew Minji too well, knew that something deeper was bothering her. She remembered the way Minji used to shine, her laughter infectious when they were trainees. But ever since debut, she had lost her spark. The sadness in her eyes had only worsened since they arrived in the U.S., and Hanni couldn’t help but notice it.

“You don’t have to pretend,” Hanni said softly, giving Minji an awkward pat on the back.

“I’m fine, really,” Minji said, her voice softening when she realized how sharp she had sounded. She stood up slowly, trying to shake off the heaviness that clung to her.

“Thanks for checking up on me.”

The younger girl looked up at Minji, her heart aching in concern for her friend. Minji looked so lost, her thick brows furrowed, the corners of her lips drooping.

“You should go see her,” Hanni said with a sigh. “The girl in the picture.”

Minji’s head snapped back to look at Hanni, her face stunned. “What?”

“The girl in the picture,” Hanni clarified, pulling nervously at her socks that were falling down her ankles. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. You asked me to grab your glasses once, and I saw it in your drawer.”

Minji’s heart raced. She hadn’t realized Hanni had seen the photo, the one she kept hidden, a tiny piece of you she clung to. It was a strip from a photo booth, the two of you captured in a moment of joy. Minji’s arms wrapped around you, her eyes crinkled with a wide smile, while you pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, cheeks flushed. The edges of the photo were worn down, not from age but from being held too often. At the bottom, in your familiar handwriting, was a simple message: I’ll always be your biggest fan. – Y/N.

Minji tugged nervously at the ends of her long hair, her mind racing for a lie. But no words came out of her mouth. How could she deny your importance in her life?

Denying you would be like denying a part of her soul.

“I can’t,” Minji finally said, her broad shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Why?” Hanni stood up, determined to talk some sense into her. “She’s here, right? That’s why you’ve been so off this month.”

“I just…I can’t.” Minji repeated, her voice barely audible, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Why not?” Hanni waved her hands in frustration. “Bro, if you miss her, just go see her. I’ll cover for you.”

“I can’t.” Minji looked up at the ceiling, trying hard to hold back the tears. It was embarrassing enough that Hanni was seeing her like this. She didn’t want to cry in front of her. “I made her cry. I’ll only make her cry again.”

Hanni put her hands on her hips, her eyes twitching in frustration like a tiny dwarf straight out of The Lord of the Rings, ready for battle. If Minji hadn’t been so miserable, she would've laughed right in her face.

“Are you serious, Kim Minji?” Hanni huffed, stepping closer. “Then stop making her cry! Be romantic or something! Make her happy if you love her so much. For the love of god, I can’t believe how stupid you are.”

Before Hanni could grab Minji’s shirt collar and shake some sense into her, Danielle’s voice interrupted.

“Pham Hanni!” Danielle, followed closely by Haerin and Hyein, hurried over. “What’s going on? Don’t fight.”

Another gasp. “Did you make Minji cry?!”

“Bro what? No-” Hanni tried to defend herself. “It’s not what it looks like.”

.

.

.

.

To clear up the misunderstanding (and to avoid getting murdered in her sleep by Hanni), Minji told the girls about you. With a heavy sigh, she told the girls everything—about you, your love, and the heartbreak that followed. How she left you behind for her dream, even though you had been nothing but understanding. How she never stopped thinking about you, and how, no matter what she did, she could never move on.  The girls listened sympathetically, and even Haerin, who was rarely the one to have physical contact, pulled Minji into a hug.

After some convincing, they finally persuaded Minji to call Jimin and ask about you. Despite the late hour, Jimin picked up immediately.

The sound of loud music blasted through the phone, forcing Jimin to yell to be heard.

"Hey, superstar!" Jimin’s voice rang out. "Long time, no talk!"

“Sorry, is this a bad time?” Minji asked, already second-guessing her decision. “I can call back-"

“Nah, I’m just at a rave, but honestly, it’s kinda boring. So talk!”

“You’re at a rave?” Minji asked, bewildered.

She never quite understood how you and Jimin became such close friends when you were so different. Then again, maybe you had changed, too.

“Yup.” Jimin popped the p dramatically. “But don’t worry, she’s not here.”

“I’m not worried.” Minji muttered, before sighing. “She deserves to do whatever makes her happy.”

Jimin made a fake gagging sound. “Ew, that’s so cliché, but also kinda sweet.”

Minji hesitated, her heart in her throat. “Is she doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good. Busy with school, trying to land an internship. We’re graduating next year.” Jimin paused, then added, “She still misses you, you know.”

Minji’s heart skipped a beat. “I miss her too,” she admitted softly.

"Then why didn’t you ever call her?"

“I didn’t want to be a burden. It wasn’t fair to drag her into the spotlight, and I didn’t want to make her cry anymore.”

“Why now, though?”

“Now…because I’m not happy without her. I’m tired of giving up the things I love just to be an idol.”

“Okay, ew gross.” Jimin sighed dramatically. “But fine, you pass. I’ll text you the address to our apartment. Just don’t screw it up again, okay? If you make her sad again, I swear I’ll hunt you down, idol or not.”

Minji laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years. For the first time, it felt like she could breathe again.

“I’ll try my best not to.” she said, before adding, “Do you need a ride back? Did you drink?”

“I didn’t drink. Stop being such a grandma. Now go get your girl,” Jimin teased before hanging up.

Jimin laughed to herself as she texted the address to Minji. “Such a loser. No wonder Y/N loves her so much.”

.

.

.

.

Minji was running out of time.

She had to steal her manager's car, buy the things needed to win back your heart, and make the hour-long drive to your place. And somehow, she still needed to make it back before the tour bus left at dawn.

Her heart pounded in her chest, nerves twisting in her stomach. After years of drowning in regret, she was finally close.

You were close.

She wouldn’t stop until you were back in her arms.

Fate seemed to be on her side tonight. She’d managed to slip away from the label unnoticed, with a little help from her bandmates. Stealing the keys straight out of her manager’s pocket had been a risk, but she was too far in to back down now.

“What am I even doing?” Minji muttered to herself, catching her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed from nerves and the wind. It was too late to chicken out. She bit her lip, tightening her grip on the wheel as the car sped down the empty street.

A stop at the 24-hour supermarket later, she found herself standing outside your apartment building. The quiet neighborhood felt strange for a Saturday night near campus. The silence made her footsteps sound louder as she walked through the small yard.

She paused at the garden beside the front steps, a small smile tugging at her lips. Rows of blue daisies swayed gently in the breeze. You must’ve planted them, just like back in high school. She remembered how excited she’d gotten during that school trip to the botanical garden when she saw them for the first time. Since then, you’d always planted blue daisies so they could cheer her up after a rough day at school or practice, when she would meet you in front of your house.

And now, years later, those same flowers were here, in front of your rented apartment. The sight of them made her heart race, this time for an entirely different reason.

You still remembered.

With the bag she bought at the supermarket hidden behind her back, Minji took a shaky breath, giving herself a final pep talk. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the doorbell. The blood rushed to her ears, heart thudding with each step she heard on the other side.

“Jimin, I swear to god, stop losing your keys.”

The door swung open, revealing your familiar face, first annoyed, then frozen in shock.

"Minji?" you whispered, eyes wide.

You stood still, taking her in. She looked different: taller, more mature, with the kind of calm confidence you had seen in her music videos and interviews. Yet there was a vulnerability about her now, standing in front of you, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. You had kept up with her promotions, sure, but seeing her here, right in front of you, felt surreal.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed her until you saw her standing there. Her soft, warm eyes, the curve of her lips.

You wanted to kiss her. God, you wanted to kiss her.

“H-Hi, Y/N.” Minji stammered, her brain suddenly forgetting how to form words.

She tugged at her shirt, staring at her scuffed sneakers. She cursed herself for not wearing something better. Here she was, bare-faced, dressed in ragged sweatpants and old sneakers she’d thrown on after the concert.

Little did she know, this was your favorite version of her.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended. The lump in your throat was making it hard for you to talk.

Minji was staring at everything but you, as if the door handle had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

“I… um… I was in the neighborhood and thought it would be nice to… drop by.” Her voice wavered as her ears turned bright red.

You couldn’t help but bite back a smile. She was so confident in front of millions of people, yet here she was, too nervous to even look at you.

“Really?” You arched an eyebrow.

“Y-yeah.” Her voice was barely above a whisper when she finally raised her eyes to meet yours.

At that moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning. Your eyes were still the same, those honey-brown hues holding all the emotions Minji loved so much. She used to be able to read you with just a glance, all of your thoughts and feelings. Minji remembered the way you looked right before she kissed you for the first time, the expression on your face when she finally confessed, and the night she left. Your eyes had always shown her the direction, but now, for the first time, she couldn’t understand what they were conveying.

Minji swallowed hard, her throat dry as she took a shaky breath. “I know it’s been a long time,” she began, her voice barely steady, “but I-I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

You were speechless.

You hadn’t expected the love of your life to show up at your doorstep at one in the morning, let alone halfway across the world. And now, here she was, telling you she missed you.

Worried about your silence, Minji continued, her hands gripping the bag behind her back to stop them from shaking.

“I kept telling myself I’d move on, that we were just kids, and it didn’t matter. But it did. You mattered. More than I realized back then. I thought chasing my dreams was worth everything, but nothing is worth more than you, Y/N.”

Her confession hit you like a wave, stirring emotions you’d buried long ago. You had convinced yourself that a clean break was best for both of you, but you still spent countless nights crying, watching her from afar, keeping your promise to be her number-one fan. As her texts slowed and eventually stopped, you assumed she had moved on, that she was happy. You thought you were the only one who couldn’t move on.

But it seemed the idol hadn’t been doing well either.

“I didn’t know what else to do back then,” Minji admitted, a tear slipping down her pale cheeks. “Everything was happening so fast—my career, the label, the spotlight. I got scared. I thought leaving you behind was the only way to move forward, to protect both of us. But I was wrong. And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

You shifted uncomfortably, her words ripping open old wounds that you tried so hard to heal.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Minji nodded slowly, her eyes searching yours for a glimmer of hope. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just... can I come in? Please. I want to keep a promise I made. And if...if after tonight you want me to leave, I will.”

You looked at her in confusion. “Promise? What promise?”

Minji flashed you a lopsided grin, the same silly, hopeful smile she always reserved just for you. Your heart fluttered despite yourself.

“I promised I’d make you dinner.” She raised the bag from behind her back.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s one in the morning, Minji.”

“So? It’s never too late for food.” Minji’s confidence grew, proud of herself for finally making you laugh.

You sighed but let her in, shutting the door and leading her down the hallway to the kitchen.

As she followed, she noticed the sweatshirt you were wearing—a familiar blue bunny design on the back. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Nice shirt,” she commented, earning a playful glare from you.

“Shut up.”

You turned on the kitchen lights and sat at the island, watching her closely.

Her earlier confidence faltered in the silence. She cleared her throat, tying her hair into a messy bun and rolling up her sleeves. Your eyes never left her as she fumbled with the pots and pans, preparing the ingredients for what was sure to be an unconventional meal. The whole situation felt surreal. Minji, after all these years, standing in your kitchen, just within arm's reach.

“So...you cook now?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” she paused, meeting your gaze. “I took a few classes.”

You chuckled, recalling a memory from high school. “Remember when you tried to make kimchi stew in year two?”

Minji grinned. “I had to wash dishes for a whole month because I burned the pot.”

“You stuck to making appetizers after that. Not that I was complaining though, you were pretty good at making salad.”

She laughed softly, then admitted, “It always felt wrong to only make appetizers for you. So I promised I’d take cooking classes.”

Your heart softened at her words. You remembered that night, after her horrible attempt at cooking, she had sleepily pulled you into her arms and promised to learn how to cook for you someday when you went to bed.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” you said quietly, your fingers tracing the edge of the counter as you tried to ground yourself in the moment.

It felt impossible that she was here again, fulfilling a promise you thought had been long forgotten.

Minji looked up from the pot she was stirring, her eyes full of affection and regret. “I never forgot anything about you, Y/N. Not a single thing.”

Her words made your heart ache in both the best and worst ways. You had spent so long believing you were just a distant memory to her, something she had left behind without a second thought. But now, seeing her, hearing her, you realized she had carried pieces of you with her all along, just as you had with her.

The kitchen fell into a quiet rhythm as Minji resumed cooking, her movements unhurried, as if she were trying to weave this moment into her memory. You watched her, noticing the way her hair framed her face in its messy bun, the unevenly rolled sleeves she never quite fixed, and the concentration on her face, just as you remembered when she wanted everything to be perfect for you.

She was still the same Minji after all these years. Your Minji.

.

.

.

.

Minji had managed to cook a full-course meal—salad, steak, pudding, and, to your surprise, kimchi soup.

“That’s a unique combination,” you laughed as she sat down in front of you, a streak of orange from the kimchi on her chin.

“Well, kimchi soup is your favorite, and the market didn’t have anything else Korean, so I had to settle with st-” Minji’s rambling was abruptly cut off as you reached over and gently wiped the streak from her chin with your thumb.

“Thank you,” you said, meeting her eyes. “Thank you for remembering the promise.”

Minji froze, gulping as your touch sent a familiar rush through her. It was ridiculous how easily you still had this effect on her.

You pulled your hand away like it was nothing, while she was left sitting there, trying to regain her composure.

As you both began eating, it felt natural to fall back into old habits. The conversation flowed easily, like all those years hadn’t passed. You reminisced about high school, laughing over shared memories, those late-night study sessions, sneaking out after curfew, the silly inside jokes that only the two of you would understand.

It was almost like old times, yet there was an unspoken boundary between you. Neither of you dared to bring up the past in any deeper way, avoiding the real reason why she was here. The air was thick with everything unsaid, but for now, it seemed enough to just pretend everything was fine.

When the last of the meal was finished, silence fell over the kitchen once more. The clinking of dishes stopped, and you both sat there, looking at everything but each other. Minji glanced at her watch, inwardly cursing when she saw it was almost 3 a.m. The tour bus left at six sharp, and she was running out of time. But looking at you, your face tinged with a hint of melancholy, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about your relationship. Not yet.

“You kept the daisies,” she said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah…I did.” You glanced at her, your heart tightening. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Minji’s heart sank. Did you let her in tonight because she was just another habit? But before her thoughts could spiral, you added,

 “But mainly because they made me think of you.”

Minji’s head snapped up, her heart soaring with hope. It was now or never. Either she bring up the past and work on a future with you, or she left, again, with nothing.

She took a deep breath. “Listen, Y/N, I-”

“You never called.” You cut her off. Your voice was soft, not accusatory, but the hurt behind it made Minji wince.

“I know.”

“You stopped replying to my texts.”

Minji pulled at the tips of her hair, a nervous tick she had never managed to get rid of.

“I did.”

“Even when you promised you would still keep in touch with me.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Minji met your gaze, and the pain in your eyes burned her. She had caused that.

She exhaled shakily. “I made you cry, Y/N. I didn’t want to make you cry anymore. I couldn’t bear that I hurt you because I selfishly wanted everything. I wanted you, but I also wanted the fame.”

You looked at her, the girl you had loved so deeply. She still looked like the 17 year old who had cried on your doorstep all those years ago, her broad shoulders slumped in defeat. So much had changed, and yet, so little.

Minji continued, her voice trembling. “Your texts got me through training for a while. But I was selfish. I wanted you there with me, wanted to pretend we never broke up. But when Jimin accidentally let slip that you hadn’t been sleeping, that you cried when you thought she couldn’t see, I realized I was only hurting you more by not letting you move on.”

“It hurt me more,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, “when you just stopped replying without any explanation.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. So so sorry.” Minji couldn’t stand the distance any longer.

She left her spot across the table and knelt down beside you, reaching for your hands. She brought them close to her lips, her cool breath sending shivers down your spine.

“There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I didn’t think about you and regret what I did.”

You looked down at her, your heart aching. “Minji, you’re still an idol. You’re more famous  than ever. Dispatch, the fame, your label... nothing has changed.”

“But I’ve changed, Y/N.” Her eyes glistened with tears, reflecting the soft yellow kitchen light, making them glow golden.

“I doubted how I showed my love. I was scared of hurting you, so I only gave you small parts of myself. Appetizers, small crumbs of my heart. I prioritized everything else over our relationship. But now, after all these years, my feelings for you haven’t faded. They’ve only grown stronger, more sure. And if you’ll let me, I want to give you the full course of love I never realized I had.”

Your vision blurred with tears as Minji’s words struck deep. You felt like you were falling apart, but she was here, trying to piece your heart back together.

Mistaking your silence and tears as rejection, Minji’s hand slipped away from yours.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” she muttered, trying to choke back her own tears. “I’ll leave now.”

She began to rise to her feet, but you reached out, grabbing her arm.

She froze, looking down at you. Your tear-streaked face was red and puffy, but to Minji, you were the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

Without another word, you grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her down, crashing your lips against hers. Minji stumbled, but quickly steadied herself, her arms braced on either side of you against the chair. The kiss was urgent, and passionate. It was a release of years of longing and unresolved feelings. You wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer still, a smile curling on your lips as she nearly toppled over in her rush to kiss you back.

.

.

.

.

Later, the two of you sat curled up on the living room sofa, your head resting against Minji’s chest. Her heart was beating softly beneath your ear, a rhythmic reminder that she was really here. Each breath she took sent a gentle rise and fall beneath you, and the familiar scent of her pine and mint invaded your senses. Her fingers traced shapes on your thigh, silent words of her love etched with every gentle brush.

You played with her other hand, your fingers threading through hers, relishing the warmth and weight of them. Her calloused fingertips brushed against your palm, a reminder of her hard work over the years. But here, in this quiet moment, she was just Minji—your Minji.

“I have to leave soon,” she whispered, sounding reluctant. It was almost 5 a.m.

At her words, you buried your face deeper into the crook of her neck. The thought of her leaving again, even if only for a few weeks, pained your heart.

“When will you come back?”

“In three weeks,” Minji said softly.

“We’ve got a few shows left, but as soon as the tour’s over, I’ll come back. I promise. And then we’ll have all the time in the world to talk, to figure everything out.”

You nodded, trusting her words. This Minji felt different, she was more determined. You could feel the weight of her promise from the way she held you like she never wanted to let go.

The world outside was still dark, the streets quiet, lonely even. But inside, the room was soft, assuring, and full of warmth.

.

.

.

.

You walked her to the door, making a fuss about how cold it was in the early morning as you handed her your volleyball team hoodie. Secretly, you just wanted her to have something of yours, a reminder that she was real. Your last name stood proudly on her back as she leaned against the door, a goofy, lovesick grin on her face. It felt like the roles had reversed. You used to be the one wearing her clothes in high school, but now here she was, your oversized hoodie fitting her perfectly.

She was effortlessly perfect.

“I’ll miss you,” you said, unable to help yourself.

Her grin blossomed into a full-blown smile as she pulled you in for one last kiss. A promise of more to come.

When she finally pulled away, your face was flushed, and your heart was racing. She had that effect on you.

“I’ll call you,” she said, her eyes sparkling with adoration.

“You better,” you teased, tugging on her hoodie collar.

She gave you a playful salute, her thick eyebrows wagging. “Every day. Scout’s honor.”

You laughed, before finally releasing your hold and her and pushed her toward the car. “You’re such a loser.”

“A loser for you.” She walked backward, eyes locked on yours and giving you a playful wink as she got in.

You stood there, in front of the blue daisies, watching the love of your life leave, just like you had all those years ago. But this time, it wasn’t a goodbye. It was a promise.

She was your high school love, and the promise of everything that lay ahead.

Part 1