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eupheme · 1 year

Text

— meet me in the woods

halsin x druid!reader/tav

rated e - 7.2k

tags: double druids, smut with feelings, aphrodisiac (in the form of a fertility solstice), mates/mating rituals, hinted at breeding kink, poly!halsin (but has a connection with you), pleasure dom!Halsin, canon-typical violence, masturbation, miscommunication, oral, PiV, size kink, multiple orgasms, cum play

Living in the city had muted your druidic powers, cut you off. That all had changed, in your journey across Faerûn. Something inside of you had cracked open - letting nature and instinct sink in.

And in spite of the feelings now burning inside you - you don’t know what it means to celebrate the Solstice. Luckily for you… Halsin is there to help you through your first.

The sky has started to slip from soft shades of blue to deep orange and purples. Your wrist aches from where you scrub at your hide armor, removing the layers of grime from the long days of travel.

Your eyes flick up, like they have three times already in the last ten minutes. Across the twist of smoke from the fire that Gale tends, a cauldron of stew that has begun to fill the camp with it's rich aroma.

To where he lounges. To where your eyes meet soft green.

You look away.

"Do you think he's looking at us?"

You don't mean to ask this question out loud. It's a thought that swirls in your mind - slipping between teeth and a tongue loosened from a warm afternoon under the sun and a flagon of crisp wine.

There's the cutting strike of shale against steel. Sharp eyes flicking across to where yours have slipped, once again.

A lip curling, with the click of a tongue.

"Chk. I've seen that look on a male before." Lae'zel's tone is knowing, the slightest hint of a smirk sent your way, as she sharpens the edge of her longsword, "A bear that wishes to devour."

You blink, glancing her way at the humor in her voice. Trying to ignore the fluttering flip in your stomach at the thought.

"Oh, I am not so sure he sees me that way." Your knuckles curl as they press into a stain, your eyes dropping in mock concentration.

A red eye cracks open near your hip, Astarion's head propped up on the wrap of your bedroll. Curled like a cat under the sun and with the wafting warmth of the fire - a hand coming up to shield the bright glare above.

If it had been anyone else lazing next to you, you might have asked them to lend you a hand with the basket of vegetables for the stew - the next in your long list of things to-do. But secretly, you were just pleased he chose to spend the afternoon near you.

"Gods - I took you for boring, darling. But I never took you for stupid." He sighs, with a stretch.

Well, you had been pleased.

He ignores your look of offense as he pushes himself up on an elegant elbow, chin propped in the cup of his hand, "I don't think he's stopped looking at you since he's joined us."

A wistful sigh, "It's enough to make me wish I had saved that child."

Before his nose wrinkles, as he reappraises that thought with displeasure.

"Appreciate that, friend." Your response to his earlier remark is flat, as he flops down again.

"Oh, don't be like that," He drawls, "You were the one who asked."

The misdirection is noted with a small huff of a laugh, as you turn back to work again. Flipping around their thoughts in your own mind.

How you wish that were true.

Your own feelings were no secret to yourself. There had been no pretending in your heart, after your first meeting. Even if you had not always known the strength of your powers, you had always known yourself.

There had been a near-instant attraction with your first meeting. A suspicion that there was something special about the bear trapped in the worg pens. That feeling blossoming with the fluttering in your stomach when he had changed - the depth of his thanks at your aid in protecting the Grove.

A seed had been planted then. A hope that perhaps, with time - with some tending - that there could be more. That feeling only grows since, flourishing, weaving its way between your ribs.

And lately, you think there has been something more. His laugh comes easier. An eagerness to join you when you left the camp. Never far from you, when you return.

You were the first one he turned to after the rage of battle.

“Are you well, teuivae?”

As if you could not mend your own wounds. The word that slipped from his tongue lost as his eyes searched - until he was satisfied that the blood splattered across your leather armor was not your own. Broad hands that cupped your face. Close enough to brush his own against yours, but instead he had hovered.

Waiting - but for what, you did not know.

It had you wondering. You suppose enough now that those thoughts have made their way out into the world. Not knowing what to do, with your friend’s confirmation.

That feeling only increases, the turn of the moon turning it into a surging weight in your chest. Something physical, that gnaws at you. Tipping past want and hurtling towards something that felt like need.

Your thoughts of desire running wild, until you can’t help but slip your fingers beneath the layers of your bedroll. Your teeth biting into the heavy fabric that muffles the quick circle of your fingers, the soft sigh of your relief.

It was hard not to. To see him that way, to want him.

He is kind. Almong the best Elves you have met. He could take care of you. Your mind tells you, now. Protect you.

A very instinctual thought, one that you’ve brushed aside. You don’t need protecting. How could one protect against the tadpole, better than you already are?

But the thought comes back.

He would keep you safe. You know that, as certain as the changing of the seasons.

How quick he already is to race to your side - all teeth and claws. Imagining the honor of sharing his bedroll, how he’d wrap around you…

Only now do you realize you’ve been staring - your damp rag hovering in your still hands. A small shake of your head as you concentrate on your work. Making a point not to look again, to push the thoughts from your mind.

You really needed to get a hold of yourself.

You’re still thinking about it later, as dusk settled. The sky now streaked with hues of purple and grey, the camp littered with small fires and torches. Bellies full of stew, content to wind down after the long day.

Under the stars, it's impossbile to ignore just how much things have changed.

In the city, everything had felt muted.

Even in the outskirts, the small towns you had flitted to. The desire to fit in cutting off your attunement with nature.

But, after the Nautiloid. After you had crashed down to the Wilderness. Met the others - truly embraced who and what you were - things had changed.

You felt more like yourself than ever.

Even when you thought your time left was marked by days. Hours.

The warmth of the sun against your face. Acres of trees, the bark rough beneath your fingers as you climbed.

It seeped into your skin. Invigorating you. That liminal space between beast and body melding as you changed freely, unrestrained by space or propriety.

It was freeing.

You didn't have a coven, in the city. A lone wolf - left to wander along.

Forgetting how it felt to channel the forces of nature, with the night air wrapping around you. A bond formed when you had met Halsin, your first prolonged contact with another Druid in years. Something had been planted, watered with admiration, carefully tended in the absence that had soon come.

An urge to stay at the Druid's Grove, once the fight was over. Something unlocking in you, a need for kinship.

It had been ignored - there had been no other option. But it was like part of you stayed cracked open. Inviting nature, the whims of Silvanus, to eddy inside you. Growing potent, under the wax and wane of the moon above.

Intimate feelings mixing their way in along the way. Undeterred by the quiet, shared murmurs. Of rumors and whispers of Halsin's many lovers - good natured ribbing about his scar.

You had often thought your heart was too large to belong to only one other. It had been a relief, when you heard Halsin speak the same, around the fire.

Not fearing a connection, but not limiting it. Like nature itself, he had said. His eyes had found yours - you had taken it as some sort of lesson, from the Archdruid.

Perhaps it had been an invitation, instead.

The thought is pleasing to you. Enough so that you think… you think it’s worth being brave for.

You can’t help but seek him out, once more. Thick arms cross over a broad chest as he talks, though you’re too far away to hear. But it doesn’t stop his gaze from finding yours over the top of Wyll’s head. The way his friendly smile softens, a look you suddenly feel certain is just for you.

One you return, as that thing inside your chest swells. Blooms.

You’ve trusted your gut so far.

You’re ready to trust it again.

There is a stirring. A rooting, something sprouting in his chest. A feeling that has flickered before, but never this strong.

It had been easy, for gratitude and respect to bleed into something more, after their first meeting. After seeing such a fierce little thing take down two goblins with the flash of sharp teeth, sharper claws. A worg following, almost bigger than themselves.

Few would have stood before him, after. A frown as ferocious as their bear-form as she had offered her own opinion on how to handle the Druid Kagha, though his sentence had already been bestowed.

It had been hard not to smile.

There had been more pressing matters that had kept him away, after. Denying the offer to join her - them - the Emerald Grove had needed him more.

But still, something had lingered.

A connection. Something invisible that ties them together, that has nothing to do with the being that squirms in her mind. It begins lower - beneath the cage of ribs and where, perhaps, something soft lies.

It has him feeling like a yearling again, in spite of his three hundred and fifty years amongst Faerûn.

As the moons have passed, he'd become too accustomed to the gleam of her fur, in the sunlight. Nearly blinding him. Eyes as sharp and a tongue as quick as his.

Her true form as pretty as a field of wildflowers, of the rainbow spray of colors against the mist of a waterfall.

Evenly matched, he has thought. More than once.

The sentiment settles in his bones, trapping him - a rabbit in a snare. Though he's not so desperate to be freed, as he might have thought. The idea of being tied down had never been appealing.

But there is no urge to leave. To walk amongst the forest again, to find his way back to the Druid's Grove, for Spring. To dance and join beneath the moon, like he had for so long.

A more singular focus taking over his thoughts, as the rite approaches. A deep-seated hope, his affections shown in the ways known by his people.

Many have begun their attachments in the span of evenings to follow. Perhaps they would take the same path, if is she was willing.

The thought is more than pleasing.

It has him seeking out the eyes that fall on him so often. Finding where they linger now, in the flickering of the fire. The look she gives him - one of consideration, one of seeing in a new light - is one he knows well.

The beast inside him can read the subtle looks like tracks in the mudbank. The glitter of lights in her eyes like runes - etching a message just for him.

Enough that when she turns from the fire, when she pushes herself so carefully up - slipping like a shadow, into the forest...

It's impossible not to follow.

You can feel him behind you, as you weave through the trees.

Anticipation, excitement, pricking up the hairs on the back of your neck. Guided by the stars that sift through the canopy of leaves above.

Your feet know the way, though your mind does not. Guided by something primal inside you, taking you to a small clearing.

Grass blankets the space, tucked away in the forest. Dotted with wildflowers, a break in the branches above to let down a shaft of moonlight.

The armor you once clung to left back at the camp. An innate knowledge that there was something special about this place - that you were safe here. Protected by your own abilities. Even more so, with him following.

There is much said, in the look that he gives you as you turn. The shift of his shoulders as he approaches, a slow nod of approval as his eyes sweep across the clearing.

“You’ve chosen this spot well. The Solstice, could you feel it?”

His words make you frown, suddenly unsure. The curve of his smile wanes at your silence, as he takes another step closer, “Is that not why you’ve come here?”

The hope you’ve carried sinks, settling low in your belly. So unlike the weight that was there before - one of hunger and desire.

“I must confess, I had been hoping.” He continues, with a cock to his head, “But it seems like we are on different paths.”

You have to answer him, you know this. It takes a second to gather your courage, this meeting quickly taking a much different turn that you have expected.

“I do not know anything of your Solstices. I came here because I hoped…” Your gaze drops, unable to look at him, “I had hoped that you would follow. That this night might be ours.”

A hand cups your jaw, tilting your head up. To your surprise he is smiling, his thumb stroking across your cheek, “Your answer relieves me. We are not so far apart. I thought I had been clear, but it seems you are still unsure of my intentions.”

Something flips in your stomach, melting the spray of ice that has coated your insides. A small flutter of hope, as your eyes search his green ones, “What do you mean?”

“I have become so accustomed to your presence, that I’ve forgotten that our ways are still unknown to you.” His voice softens, and you can’t help but lean into his touch - hanging on to each of his words, “I’ve been courting you for some time, now.”

Time freezes, for a moment. Your mind whirling past all the small moments you’ve collected - held so close to your chest. Reaching out to touch others that now made more sense.

Bringing you your share of dinner at the camp. A solving of the mystery of a fire that had been stoked during the night, an extra pelt placed over you for warmth. Caring for you.

You had mistaken them all for chivalry.

“-and I had thought you were accepting, tonight. With the beginning of the Solstice.”

“I must be dense.” You can’t help but smile, with a sensation of being able to breath again, “I had my own wishes, but I never knew-”

“I should have been more clear. Forgive me,” His hands touch his scars, his smile turning wry, “I thought it wise to let you set the pace of our journey.”

Hence his waiting for you to kiss him, after that battle. His following you, tonight.

Courage rises in you, once again.

“I want you to show me what it means to celebrate.”

He softens, for you. Hands dropping to entwine with yours, bending until your foreheads touch, “Then I am yours.”

The slightest tilt of his head, bringing your joined hands to point at the heavens.

“With the spring comes new beginnings. We lead the way, with the Solstice. Baring our flesh and joining beneath the moon, in an offering to the Oak Father.” His words are a low rumble, it’s impossible not to focus on his mouth, the way it quirks at his next words, “It is… rigorous.”

The heat that has simmered for weeks now flares to life, as his eyes darken.

Bu there's something small tickles at you, making you lean back. Your brow furrowing, needing the clarity.

"Is it just the Solstice that draws you to me?" Is it just duty that has ensnared his affections? Is this no more than fulfilling the desires of Silvanas?

He laughs, with a shake of his head, "If our first meeting had been in the Grove, your beauty would have been more than enough to enthrall me."

The knowledge is flattering. That he still would have wanted you, in another life, in another time. His next words are enough to cast the rest of your doubts aside.

"But make no mistake. For quite some time now, I have desired more. Deeper than the skin, down to the marrow." He brings your entwined fingers to his mouth, his lips pressing against your knuckles, "I fear you stole more than gold that day, in the Sanctum."

There is much that he reveals, with his words.

A sense that your feelings are more than reciprocated. A reminder that he does not mince words, like others you have known.

For as keen as your eyes are, you should have realized this sooner. The last curl of unease lifts, wafting up to stars above.

“How do we begin?”

“Eager. I like that.” Halsin grins - his eyes dragging over you, as his voice pitched low, “For starters… you are overdressed.”

With as large as his fingers are, they are dexterous as they tug at the tie of your tunic. A palm curling around your waist, tugging you close as your face tips up to his.

“And there is usually music.” He murmurs, dipping just enough to brush his mouth against yours, “But I am sure we can make our own.”

His name is a soft sound on your lips, before they press against his. Warm and solid and plush, a sigh in his throat as your hands reach up to grasp at broad shoulders. Slipping to tangle in his chestnut-colored strands, keeping him pulled close.

And you are reminded that he is strong. Abandoning your shirt when your tongue brushes his lip. Hands catching the underside of your thighs to haul you against him.

Your legs stretch wide around his waist. One of those hands moving to splay across the small of your back, a low growl rumbling as you nip at his lower lip.

Hunger gnaws at you, as he deepens the kiss. An ache to be closer, unable to get enough of the taste of him as he licks into your mouth.

Holding you against him as he sinks to his knees. Bringing you down against the blanket of grass, nestling you against it. A low chuckle at the way you still cling to him, entangling yourself around him like vines, as Halsin begins to tug at your clothes again.

Carefully, as if it's a gift to unwrap you.

"Come now, my love." He coos - another gentle tug, as you finally let go.

The air ghosts against your skin, warm with the changing of seasons. A low sound of approval with each layer that is stripped from you. The curl of a palm against your ankle, tugging off your boots. Heat pooling low, as fingertips brush up your thigh, settling at your belt.

"I long to see you bare beneath me."

He touches you as if he can't get enough. The sweep of his thumb over your thigh. Fingers joining yours as your hips lift, allowing him to peel your trousers down, and then off.

You think that perhaps it should feel strange, to be naked in the moonlight. But Halsin eclipses the brief fluttering of unease. The hunger in his expression captures yours, as he leans back to sit on his haunches.

So broad, so big. You think the desire must match in your own eyes, his sentiment so shared.

"Join me," You coax, a hand reaching for his thigh - feeling the muscles jump underneath.

His grin gleams in the moonlight, as he lets you start to do the same to him. Distracting you terribly as his hands skim from your waist to cup your breasts, teasing and pinching.

Only tearing the sleevless tunic from his shoulders before he's curling over you - his mouth pressing against your neck. Inhaling your scent with another low growl, his nose skimming over heated skin.

Those lips pressing against your throat, the threat of teeth as they part. You squirm beneath him, something inside you aching for him to bite down. To mark you.

You can feel his smile against your skin, his hands still teasing the tight peaks of your nipples. One drifting lower across sternum and belly, drifting across the curve of your mound.

It’s easy to arch into his touch, to urge his fingers lower. The sweep of his fingertips is so light, a summers breeze against your skin - a low hum of a laugh as your hips jerk again.

“I know it’s affected you.” There’s the slightest pressure - thick fingers split, tracing the crease where your thigh meets groin. Purposely avoiding where you need him, where you know you’re wet and wanting.

Another sharp intake of breath, before he’s pushing himself up to hover over you, “At camp. Your smell. It was difficult to hold myself back.”

He touches you, then. Twin moans as his fingers slip against slick flesh. Dripping, for him. Almost making you forget your words as the pad of his fingers circles your clit, as your hand brace against his biceps, nails biting skin.

“W-wasn’t the coming of Spring.” You protest - the rhythmic swipe of his fingers stealing your breath, “It was just you.”

The look he gives you then - it’s all soft edges, wrapped in a focus that’s so intense your eyes flutter shut. It’s too much, his gaze, his touch.

A low groan from his chest then, in recollection, “There were many nights lately where I wished to offer myself for your pleasure. Perhaps I should have.”

For your pleasure. Few would word it that way - conjuring images of him beneath you. His tongue tracing the same path of his fingers, your thighs pressing against the long points of his ears.

It makes you clench - the simmering fire in your belly sending up sparks, stoked by the way his head moves lower. Your fingers slipping to twist sharply in his hair, as his tongue peeks out to brush your breast.

“More, Halsin. I need you-” You pant, your free hand fitting under the bulk of his shoulder. Reaching to nudge his hand down lower, until his fingers are brushing your entrance.

He traces you, before he sinks into you, down to the first knuckle. His hands are so much bigger than yours, there’s already the slight stretching burn as he eases deeper.

The tilt of his head, chin pressing against your ribs. The fire burns in his own eyes, a heavy press of his hips against your thigh, letting you feel him.

“If we had been at the Grove, I would have hoped you would have chosen me as your mate for the duration of the three nights.” It’s a confession, the word mate ringing out - enthralling you, “Now, I do not know what tomorrow brings. I will give you all that I can, tonight.”

In a fluid motion, he moves. The ripple of muscles as he shifts between your thighs - their breadth stretching them too wide. Enough that you have to hook one over the curve his shoulder, before his head dips.

The heated swipe of his tongue hits you just as his finger presses deep and curls. You’re instantly thankful for his three hundred and fifty years, with the pointed exploration of his mouth.

A groan as he tastes you, those green eyes fixing on yours again. Fitting another finger into you as your heel digs into his shoulder, as your head tips back with a cry.

It’s too much. Pleasure skitters through your stomach, your hips moving on their own, matching the steady thrust of his fingers. How he drags them against a spot that makes you keen and squirm, before sliding them free to fit them between his lips.

Tasting the honey of your arousal, his lips already shining with you, before filling you again. Muscles clenching like the pull of a bow, waiting for the arrow to fire.

Halsin moans into your cunt like he’s feasting, like he truly means to devour you. His own hips pressing into the ground, easing his own need for friction.

Too practiced with the tight flicks of his tongue, the way his lips kiss and suck against the sensitive bud. The press of his fingers loud with how wet you are, matching your sharp, panting breath.

His name is a whimper before your muscles string even tighter. Going stiff as your breath catches, a pathetic whimper of a sound before you’re crying out.

The pleasure ignites, ripping through you as you come. As your thighs press around his ears, though he does not slow. Fucking you through it with his fingers, soft growls that buzz against your clit with each press of his tongue.

Leaving you breathless, boneless.

His mouth soft as kisses are pressed to your thighs, as you come back to yourself. It feels like you’re glowing, a soft haze settling over your limbs, down to the curl of your toes.

A broad hand smears your slick across his jaw, as he pushes himself up to kneel between your thighs. Where his cock strains against the leather of his leggings, tenting the soft fabric.

You ache to make him feel as good you feel. Something primal roars in your belly, as you follow him. Hands pressing against his chest, the flicker of shock turning warm as he lets himself be eased back.

Until it’s your thighs straddling his, moving up until your slick cunt is pressing against that heavy curve. His lips parting with a soft pant as you lean over him, your head dipping to kiss him.

He tastes like you, the sweet tang of your orgasm. Another shudder of pleasure coursing through you at the thought - as his hands find your hips, coaxing you to rock yourself against him.

Back home, you don’t know if you would have had the courage to climb this mountain of a man. But the images that flicker through your mind - the ones of him beneath you - are too strong, tugging at you. Beckoning your limbs to follow.

“I want to-,” You’re mumbling, between kisses, “Will you let me?”

“Follow your urges, my heart. Wherever they lead you, I am here.” His words sound strained, his hips flexing up, against you. More than content to be your guide, or to let you explore at your pace.

Your fingers drop to tug at his belt, with his consent. His hands coming to cover yours, lifting you with the rise of his hips. Freeing himself, his clothes joining yours on the forest floor.

It’s only here that you pause, as your thighs stretch across his waist. Where it becomes evident just how proportional he is - his cock full and flushed and heavy, curving up towards his stomach.

Unable to help touching him, his eyes fixed on the slight frown and then panic that flits across your features. A low rumble as your hand fits around him, your fingertips unable to touch.

“You-” You stammer, suddenly unsure, “Halsin, I don't know if I can-”

His eyes darken at your insinuation, his teeth flashing with his smile. Fingers curl around his base, tilting himself up. Pressing himself against your belly, the tip smearing a wet spot on your skin.

Measuring. Your grip tightens and he groans, his hips flexing into your touch.

His voice ragged, rough in the night air, “You can take me. Know you can, my love.”

You can’t pretend you’re not eager to try. Hands pressing against his chest, eyes flicking between his face and his cock, as you lift yourself up.

One leaving to hold him steady, taking a second to feel him slide against you. Muffling a sigh when he bumps against your clit, slicking him up with your release. Before you line him up, and start to sink down.

He splits you open. The pinch of his fingers against your hips hurts, as he tries to resist thrusting up into you. Even with your orgasm, your cunt slick with pleasure, he still stretches you wide.

Taking an inch, and then another. A tremble in your thighs as your knees press into the earth, a strangled whine as you make room for him.

His murmured encouragement catches in his chest, the moon and spring calling to him - only his experience keeping him from taking matters into his own hands.

A strong jaw ticking as you sink onto him, achingly slow - until your hips finally lie flush. Your hand flying to your belly, as if you could feel where he fits inside you.

His gaze is heavy, reverent. The press of fingertips against your skin as his grip eases, lips parting as you carefully begin to lift up - to rock back down.

The sensation flickers through you like faerie fire, the slow and sweet drag of him. Making you feel impossibly full, your head dipping down to hang between your shoulders. Hands curling into the hair covering his chest, as you figure out how to move.

It’s impossible to describe. A desire like you’ve never known bites at you, curling in your belly. You think perhaps you understand now - this need to bring forth the Spring and celebrate its arrival. It’s been something inside of you this whole time, waiting for guidance.

You have it, now.

“I-I did not think there was anything that could rival your touch,” Your words some out shaky - your thighs already twinging with the effort of moving. The steady rise and fall of your hips, the hitch in your breath when he sits flush within you, “I am happy to be wrong.”

The corner of his lip lifts in a snarl, but it’s one of pleasure. Just as gone as you are, with the drag of his eyes from your face, down to where you bounce on his cock. The thick peek of him each time your rise, shining with your slick.

It’s enough that his hands slip lower. Fingers slipping to rub at you again, each time you sink down.

“Use me, then.” He rasps, “Come on, sweet one. Take your pleasure.”

Your heart races, breath caught in your throat at his words, his touch. The slow pace increasing, as you try to do what he says.

Instincts flooding wisdom, drowning it out - tilting your hips until your thighs tremble, as he knocks against a sweet spot inside you.

Again, and then again. His eyes are fixed on you now, and the look he gives makes you clench - coveting his attention. Wanting him to only look at you, tonight.

To sear the feeling of you into his memory, as he has done to you. You think there is nothing that could make you forget tonight.

To forget this swirl of magic, as if you’re tethered to the ground, the sky, him - all at once. Utterly free at the same time, your body moving on its own without inhibition, encouraged by the sound of his moans.

The clench of teeth - the heavy press of hips that have begun to snap upward, no longer able to hold back.

“Oh gods-” You keen. Once, and then again - a grinding circle of your hips against his fingers, as that feeling inside you threatens to burst again.

Halsin chases the rock of your hips now with his own, with his fingers. His laugh rough, caught between his teeth.

“The gods may be listening, little one. But only I will answer.”

It makes you shudder, makes you beg.

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”

His fingers stay true. Pressing just a little harder, a jostle of his thighs as his feet plant against the ground. Fucking up into you now, as your pace falters. Too focused on the rushing white noise in your ears, the feeling that’s so big that it feels like you’ll choke on it.

“Let me feel you.” The words are muted, miles away. Digging into your skin to weave around your ribs, “Sweet one, come on-”

Your cry rips from your lungs, as you tip over the edge. He’s there to catch you, the steady pound of his hips as your own legs fail you. Fingers sweeping as the pulse of your cunt matches the heartbeat in your ears, clenching around him as you find your release.

Pushing himself up to meet you, as your arms wrap around him. Letting you chase the last waves of pleasure with the grind of your hips, your mouth panting into his neck.

A sweet sweat beading at the nape of your neck, across your skin. Your head turns just enough to meet his, his hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck.

To hold you to him, hovering over him, as he buries himself in you again. Again and again, until he is panting as you steal kisses. Tasting where you still linger in his tongue, another melding of your spirits.

“How do you want me?” His eyes are bright, hands slipping down to cup your ass, to help you ride him, “My heart, I fear I won’t last-”

You had made a pretty coin, brewing herbs and potions. Enough that you could do it in your sleep, your talents extending to camp. Teas of protection brewed openly and without shame.

The need for him to spill in you floods your senses, your own breath ragged at the thought.

“In me, my bear.” You beg, leaning back - the snap of your own hips sharp and loud, “I need you in me.”

The groan he makes is laced with relief. The feeling coursing through him as well - an innate need to spill himself into your cunt. To rut himself into you, until you’ve taken every drop.

Your name is ragged on his lips, as his thrusts turn shallow. As you take over, riding him until his hands grasp at your waist, as he goes stiff beneath you.

He throbs, a warmth flooding deep inside you. A pretty sight, his strong back arching into you - lips parted, hair streaming loose amongst the wildflowers. A snap of teeth as he grinds against you until you drip with him, too full of his cock to keep everything inside.

Fully joined, beneath the moonlight.

Afterwards, you melt against him. A hand smooths down your back as your fingers wander. Across the fur of his bare chest, the curve of his lip. The swirls of scarred and tattooed skin - your lips following.

He’s beautiful beneath you. Eyes content and half-lidded as an arm tucks beneath his head. A little inhale of breath - his broad chest rising as your lips move to his neck.

If you were Volo you think that, perhaps, you’d write a song about this. But that would mean that you would not be with him now, and the thought all but fills you with agony.

That hand on your waist tightening as you push the thought away - stretching up to reach the curve of his ear, a groan as your tongue traces the point.

It moves you against him. His cock slipping part-way out, only to sink deep again with your exploration.

He’s still hard, achingly so. You’re more sure whether it is a blessing of Silvanus or just him - this being so perfectly crafted in nature’s image.

Your teasing winds him up, even as his release leaks from you, shining against your thighs. A groan buzzes against your lips, where they still press against his throat.

A shifting beneath you, a pointed lift of his hips that nudges him against that sensitive place inside you.

“Let me take you, once more,” He husks, his face tipping up to yours. Knuckles brushing your cheek, tender in spite of the fire burning in his eyes, “Like the Oak Father intended.”

Desire still burns in you. An ache at the thought of having him another time, enough that you’re pushing yourself up to straddle him.

Nodding, your begging “please” making him smile, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. His eyes raking over your body, bathed in the glow of moonlight. Where he’s still buried deep, kept warm by you.

Before he’s moving. Hands gripping at your waist - a soft whine when he lifts you off him. His cock flushed and shining where it rests against his belly, as he rolls you beneath him.

“Hands and knees, my love.”

You’re eager to do so. The grass soft against your palms as your knees press into the ground. Arching your back - feeling the weight of his gaze as his thighs brush against yours.

The curve of his cock pressing against you, as he squeezes the flesh of your ass. His touch reverent and hungry, grinding himself against your core as he groans.

“If I could keep but one image in my mind, it would be this one.”

You moan at his praise, rocking back to meet his press of his hips. His hand dropping to wrap around his slick cock, notching it at your entrance.

Holding himself there as his chest presses against your back - warm, as his other arm wraps around your middle. It does something to you. The position, the feel of him overwhelming you.

“Halsin-” You pant, each second ticking by feeding into your desperation, “Why do you wait?”

“My impatient little she-bear,” He laughs, but the sound is strained with you beneath him, “Do not fear, I will give you what you want.”

And he does, the thick tip of him parting you. Sinking deep with a rough thrust of his hip, making you cry out as he fills you.

You had thought he was big before, when you rode him. But you had been in control - taking him at your own pace. Bouncing at your leisure, aided by the span of your hands against his muscular chest for balance.

Now, it feels like he’s in your throat, as he seats himself completely. As you make room for him, gripping him so tightly he chokes on a breath, fingers biting into your skin.

Yours wrap around his wrist, braced against the grass for balance. Nails biting into skin as he noses at your neck, his breath warm where it ghosts against your skin.

A kiss pressed there, so tender that you feel yourself relaxing. Rocking your hips back, whimpering at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.

“Take me,” You beg, wanting more, “Feels so good, I want you-”

He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you. There’s the sharp snap of his hips, starting shallow. Sliding out further each time, until pleasure is crackling against your skin.

The little clearing filled with the sounds of your joining. Panting breaths and the slick sound of you taking him. Fucking his own cum deeper into you, lewd with the way you cry out when his cock grinds against that spot. When the heft of his balls kiss your clit again and again, heavy with his arousal.

It feels right. Halsin’s body pressed against your back, bending you until your chest is flattened against the grass. Fingers finding purchase in the strands and flowers, giving you something to hold onto as his thighs crash against yours.

Each deep thrust pushed your breath from you with a soft whine, leaving you panting.

Trapped beneath him, until all you can do is take it.

Squirming against the cage of his chest and arms.

Fuck me. Take me. Fill me-

It comes from deep inside you. The want to be filled. An ache at knowing he’s already spent himself, that each thrust brings him closer to a second.

You must say the words out loud because he makes a noise that sounds wounded. A stutter of his hips, his words a jagged rasp, “Let go, my love. I've got you.”

So, you do. Releasing your hold on that last ounce of control. Leaving yourself in his hands, letting your sounds and cries flow freely. Embracing the mounting pleasure as it swirls through you.

You babble - half-formed words as he holds you against him. Shifting when he hears you sob, rutting himself against the spot that sends you up to the stars above. The broken “oh, oh, oh’s-” bleeding into “Gods, Halsin-”

His teeth press against your neck, pinching against your skin, “Give yourself to me.”

The arm curve around your waist moves. Fingers carefully wrap around your hair until it’s fisted in his grip. Pinning you further as he pants in your ear, soft grunts and growls that sound like music in the night air.

Not stopping until you’re shuddering beneath him. Until he feels the tight pulse of your cunt, his own release not far behind. As sweet as the taste of you, as your muscles jump under his touch, as you arch and claw at the grass below you.

It’s bliss. It feels like you’re channeling the forest itself. Feeding off the pleasure that radiates from him. The new beginning of the season, the pull of the moon above.

The Gods are pleased, you think dizzily, they must be, for I have never felt like this.

The slap of his hips is louder, as you soak him. An overwhelming instinct to claim you, as his teeth sink into the curve between neck and shoulder.

Holding you still against him as he growls. Eyes flashing gold as you cry out again - pleasure and pain melding as your orgasm flares out, beginning to ebb in sweet bursts. As the sensation drags him along to find his own end.

Spilling into you a second time with a shout. His hips moving on their own, shallow thrusts with each pulse of his cock. Your head twisting to meet his mouth, a press of teeth and tongue as you swallow his groans.

Until his strength is all but sapped from him.

Until he is more man that beast again, those eyes soft and green again - a field of clover on a bright spring day.

It’s an easy thing, to take you with him to the forest floor. To curl around you - blocking your smaller form from the midnight chill that’s begun to creep in.

Warm and strong - an arm wrapping around your hip, a large hand splaying across your belly. As if those thoughts still lingered.

Still pressed inside you, keeping you filled with him. You think you’d be content to stay like this all night. Longer, if there was not more work to be done, tomorrow. More paths to be taken.

It’s not long though, before you find yourself shifting. Dozing in his grip, a sleepy rock of your hips in an effort to feel him move in you again.

“Oak Father, preserve me.” Halsin stirs behind you, as he huffs into your hair, “Insatiable little thing. And to think I worried about you lasting through the solstice.”

Your teeth bite into your lip as you grin, as his arms wrap more tightly around you.

“I should have been concerned about myself. This old bear needs rest, little one.”

But even with his low rumbling, his hand drifts. The pad of a finger brushing against your clit, sending another shot of pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs part, a knee bending to give him access. Another soft whine as his circles against skin that is slick with his release, as his hips slowly match the lazy rhythm.

“Do not worry, my love. I will not leave you wanting.” He rasps.

“And there are many left hours until dawn.”

omg I started playing recently and I am so in love with this game. this was so much fun, I hope you enjoyed! I love Druids so much (and am playing one) and thought they for sure would have a 👀festival👀 of some kind and wanted to explore that in the context of like, act ii/iii (I am still playing so please let me know if I got any lore wrong!!)

Teuivae – ‘Moonlight’

(tags: @samspenandsword, @amywritesthings)

#halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #bg3 x reader

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beelmons · 1 year

Text

Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2

Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz

Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking.

"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek.

"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied.

His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch."

Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them.

This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit.

"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout.

"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.”

From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot.

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece.

“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased.

“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.”

You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid.

“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member.

“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.”

The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments.

“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.

“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance.

Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered.

“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you.

“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice.

You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response.

Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards.

You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation.

“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say.

“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt.

“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards.

The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else.

You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed.

Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again.

“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.

“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up.

“I’ve got enough.” he clarified.

“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.

Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table.

“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated.

The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings.

“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said.

Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek.

“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.

“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak.

“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way.

Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him.

You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter.

“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.”

Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer.

“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you.

“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?”

You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit.

You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended.

“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly.

His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.

“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.”

You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance.

His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short.

“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.”

His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised.

His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts.

One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips.

“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured.

He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared.

“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.”

Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it.

You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it.

“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over.

Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him.

“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.

“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool.

“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand.

On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat.

The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions.

This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask.

“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table.

It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture.

You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt.

“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed.

“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out.

“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added.

“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.”

“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.

The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back.

You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly.

The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains.

“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?”

Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well.

“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card.

Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release.

“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay”

You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.

Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again.

“14.” the older man said.

A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter.

“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans.

“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly.

Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it.

Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added.

“20.” Hotch said again.

The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance.

“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath.

Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win.

“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed.

Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell.

“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch.

Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.

“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you.

You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas.

Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face.

“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release.

“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides.

“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back.

“Hit me.” you said once again.

Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.

Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.”

Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean.

“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.”

“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.

Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won.

However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,

“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.

The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained.

“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him.

He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close.

He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air.

“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control.

Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth.

The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated.

Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID.

“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek.

Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue.

“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.”

You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest.

“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down.

“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone.

“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming.

“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?”

The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt.

“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers.

“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.”

As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin.

You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle.

“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded.

“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you.

“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.”

Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.

“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said.

Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him.

“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him.

“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement.

“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor.

Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush.

You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun.

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a-spes · 8 months

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| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - Chapter one (4,382 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, just fluff for the moment, slight angst (if you squint), mentions of sex.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

Your eyes meet their reflection in the mirror, looking for the slightest detail that isn’t right but, if you were seeking for imperfections, you are unable to find any.

Everything was perfect, and even you were struggling to recognize your face, you would have probably fallen into your own trap and that thought satisfies you. It took you several hours locked up in that dingy room to achieve this result, but you have no regrets as you are eventually able to look at your disguise.

No one would have guessed that you were the one hiding behind that mask that changed every feature of your face.

No one knows you enough to be able to notice the smallest details in your attitude that were giving hints about your true identity. You were sure that no one would notice the way you are moving your head when being disturbed by something or your hand constantly running in the skin of your hands. There are a lot of small habits you tried to suppress, but it was in vain, every of your persona inevitably ended up having a part of you in them.

Despite the dust covering the mirror, you can admire every feature of who you are going to be tonight: Lydia Golvorezova. She looks like an angel and it’s not only because her hair is so blonde that it looks white or because of her porcelain skin and innocent eyes that makes her look like a doll, but mainly because she is stunning. There is something unreal in her beauty that gives the impression that she couldn’t possibly be human.

This name was never yours, but it fits perfectly the person you could see in the mirror right now. It was perfect to embody the innocence and naivety you were reading in her eyes, it was perfect to give the feeling of power and fragility at the same time.

The way you have done your makeup only adds to the effect. In appearance, it is something really simple, but the truth is that it took you hours to get that result as you wanted to look as perfect and young as possible.

It is not that you are old, only being an adult for a few years now, but you figured out that the younger you look, the easier things are. Most of the people you are going to meet tonight have a preference for girls that haven't been broken by life yet, for the ones that haven't harsh features accompanied by a cold gaze: they like what is easy to manipulate.

They are desperate to feel powerful and it’s becoming pitiful, even ridiculous.

When you entered the toilets of the gas station, hours ago, nobody paid attention to you because you were blending in perfectly with your surroundings. It is that you are not as interesting as Lydia Golvorezova, nor as rich. No one ever notices the young girl with stained clothes, they even avoid her gaze at all cost, scared she would ask for money — if only they knew that she is the same person than the one they can’t take their eyes off now.

If you’ve arrived discreetly, you can’t say the same thing when you leave the room. You could feel the gaze of the few customers that were here on your back, but the worst is probably the cashier’s one. You have to clear your throat as a reminder that you are waiting so that her gaze would stop wandering for a little too long where it shouldn’t be, even for a brief moment.

While she is scanning your articles with obvious embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. You love the way she avoids your gaze, the way her cheeks are flushed and how her voice is only a whisper when she tells you how much you owe. The poor thing probably fears that you would snap at her for such an offense, but honestly you were just enjoying the situation.

You love it when they fall that easily in the trap you set for them.

Tonight, to match your makeup, you decided to wear a black dress that you bought just for the event. Your back is bare and it reveals enough of your chest to catch the attention without being vulgar: it’s right at the frontier between what’s elegant and what’s indecent, and that’s why it’s the perfect choice.

You wish you could keep it, but even the money you’re stealing isn’t enough for you to afford such things: you need it to buy things that are essential to your life, and no matter how pretty you're in that dress, you could survive without it.

Again, the story between the luxurious dress you choose and you is going to be nothing more than a one night thing. It will be returned tomorrow, as soon as the store opens — you didn’t even take the price tag off. But you’re hopeful that, one day, you will be able to purchase that kind of clothes for real, that you will be one of those people that shop without looking at the prices before they pay.

It always takes you so much time to prepare yourself because everything needs to be perfect. When your life is at stake, paying attention to every detail is the key, you can’t take the risk to be recognized, no one should be able to see behind the mask you decide to wear.

So, when you get the confirmation that you’ve made the right choices, it is always a deep relief. You tried to gather as much information as you can on tonight's event and the people that are supposed to come, but in the end there is always a lot left to chance. You can spend as much time as you want preparing yourself for what’s coming, it’s impossible to predict everything.

You are not from the same world as them, you’re just pretending to be, and it doesn’t matter how many times you did it with success, you'll always be an outsider. There are so many rules that you don’t know that something as insignificant as a word or a look could be enough to give your identity away.

Hopefully, for the moment everything seems to go fine, the dress you choose was perfect for this evening, at the frontier between elegant and indecent, and no one seems to notice the intruder.

A driver left you in front of the expensive hotel that hosts the event, and you barely had time to unbuckle your belt that a butler was already opening the door for you, helping you to get out of the car. You have to fight the urge to refuse the hand he is holding out to you, and take it with a smile on your face instead. You constantly need to remind yourself about where your place is tonight: at the top of the pyramid, among the ones that do nothing by themselves.

For someone like you, someone that has been on their own for most of their life, it’s weird to be assisted to this extent, and you hate it as much as the first time. This man complies to every of your demands because he fears you, and not because he wants to, let alone because he's paid for it — his salary probably not being enough for the evening he’s going to have.

If only he knew your reality is closer to his than it’s from theirs, you thought as he walked you toward the entrance, but you can't share it with him. You have to play along, to pretend that you’re Lydia Golvorezova perfectly if you don’t want to ruin your plans, even if it includes being rude with a man for whom you have compassion.

Tonight, the butler didn’t get anything from you except a ridiculous penny that you gave him as if he should be grateful for it, as if this action was a symbol of infinite kindness — which he is going to do, thanking you a lot of time for that. The whole time, not a word has been exchanged, you would rather keep your voice for the ones that are worth the effort.

Just like the man that caught your eyes the moment you entered the luxurious hall, Clint Barton. You read an article about him a few days ago, he works as a bodyguard for heads of major companies, despite what one might think, his position makes him an influential and wealthy man, everything you are looking for tonight, so you didn’t hesitate much before making your way toward him.

“Excuse me?” you asked, clearing your throat to get his attention, and you felt the glance of every man he was previously talking with on you, the sudden attention made you feel uncomfortable. “May I?” you added, accompanying your words by a small gesture of the hand toward the glasses of champagne he was standing in front of, feigning being so interested by those.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, immediately stepping aside so you could access the table. “I am sorry for that, miss .. ?” he added and you can’t help but grin at his attempt to learn your name - it was almost too easy.

You barely exchanged a few words, nothing out of the ordinary, but he was already crushing himself to fulfill your desires, already eager for more, and the way he is gazing at you leaves no doubts on the thoughts in his mind, something too indecent for a place like that one.

“Golvorezova, and you?” you replied, the false name slipping easily out of your mouth as you slip nimbly between him and the men he was previously talking to.

It is hard to not smile, to pretend that you didn't notice the way they are glancing at you, with anger and frustration, because you’ve just ruined their only chance to talk to him, too bad that you don’t care. Tonight, Barton is yours.

You don’t care more about the glasses of champagne than you do about these guys, it was just a way to get what you want. You’ve been fond of alcohol, you’ve seen how it changes people’s minds, taking control of their thoughts and bodies, and you would rather continue to use it to your advantage than becoming a victim of it. Even a sip of alcohol could be dangerous, and you would be stupid to drink while working, so you’re just pretending to enjoy the champagne.

“Barton,” he replied briefly, holding his hand out to you for you to shake - which you did with a faint smile on your lips.

“So, do you already know what you're going to bid on?” you asked, trying to pursue the conversation.

You both glance around for a few seconds, not a word is exchanged, just a shrug that underlines his boredom. Despite this party being marked as a charity event, most of the guests are here for other reasons: make an appearance, meet future associates, talk about business, show the world how rich and powerful they are, … there are many reasons for their presence, but none of them is disinterested. His answer is proof that he doesn't care about what’s for sale, maybe he doesn’t even know for whom the benefits are. He will drop an outrageous amount of money, just to pretend he did something good to help those people when he is the cause of their pain, people like you getting their lives destroyed by people like him.

Tonight isn’t about charity, it's about power and influence. That’s why you’re always tense when attending those events, the stakes are bigger than they are for a private party, and so are the risks. Tonight, the whole world has its eyes on what’s happening in that hotel. If you make a mistake, everyone will know, because no one escapes the spotlight tonight, and you're no exception to the rule.

“But, I think I’ve just found the most precious prize,” he said as his gaze came back to you, his smirk letting no doubt about the true meaning behind his words. Maybe if he was a bit more observant he would've noticed how your grip tightens on your glass.

You can’t help but smile, a sign he is going to misinterpret for sure, because behind it, it’s your disgust that’s hidden. He is probably something like twice your age, at least, and doesn’t seem to be interested in anything other than your body.

But the money is worth every sacrifice.

You are about to give him the reply he probably waits to hear, but you are cut before you can even say one word. It is a feminine voice whose tone makes your blood run cold, and even though her words aren’t addressed to you, you feel like you’re the one that did something wrong.

“Does Laura know about your plans?” she asked, and from the way he glanced at her, you guess that she doesn’t.

You felt the woman’s hand on your shoulder before you could see her face. It is only when he left that she took his place, allowing you to meet her gaze. She is stunning, and contrary on you, she wasn’t just playing to be pretty, she truly was.

“Men…,” she sighed as she looked at him walking away, but the truth is that he doesn’t really leave, you can still feel his gaze on you, even from the other side of the room. “I hope he didn't bother you? He can be a bit… inconsiderate sometimes, especially with the pretty girls,” she added, and you realize she is looking you up and down, her glance wandering a bit longer at the same places than the man’s one earlier.

She is not better than him, you thought, maybe a few years younger than he is, but that’s all, they’re from the same world, you have to remind yourself when you realize you too were observing her for a bit too long.

On the outside, you’re still smiling, letting nothing appear on what’s disturbing your mind, but somehow having the feeling that she knows, and you only shake your head, letting her know that everything is fine.

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you …,” she added once she understood you wouldn't say anything, not letting you a chance to find an excuse to slip through her fingers.

Despite appearances, and how friendly the conversation seems to be, the atmosphere is tense between the two of you, it’s like a game has started ; which one is gonna find the other’s secret first? And she never loses a game.

If she interrupted your conversation with Barton, it wasn’t to help you, but him. She doesn't care about his wife, Clint can cheat on her if he wants, it's none of her business as long as his problem doesn’t impact his work, and you look exactly like that kind of problem.

If there is something she cares about, it’s the raptors that get a little too close to her associates, especially the ones that would easily give off information about her business, and Clint may be good at his job, but he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

She doesn't trust you, and one glance was enough for her to get to that statement. If it wasn’t for Clint, she wouldn’t even have talked to you, but she knows how naive he can be sometimes - and maybe this conversation will help her to point out the thing that bothers her about you, something she hasn’t figured out yet.

“It’s probably because it’s my first in the United States,” you replied, your voice dripping with false sympathy.

You don’t like the woman either, but at least you are hiding your thoughts, something she doesn’t even try to do. You are smiling at her, the expression on your face being so innocent that she questions her instincts, you don’t even seem to catch the threats behind her actions or the true meaning of her words — how someone that oblivious ended up attending such an event? Something she wouldn’t have thought if she was able to see the rage hidden behind your smile, the frustration, the hatred that is slowly growing, because every second spent with her reduces your chances of success.

She sent Barton away, but most importantly, she doesn’t seem to believe everything you say as he would have, and the way she hummed after your last answer gave you a feeling of danger, something is telling you to give up the mission, but you don’t.

“I don’t think I know you either,” you replied, the words slipping from your mouth almost on their own. The conversation probably could have ended up here, if only you hadn't been so curious, if you didn’t genuinely want to learn more about the woman.

“Romanoff,” she eventually said, she seems about to add something else but hesitate for a few seconds before talking, deciding to keep the rough comment she was about to make for herself, “but you can call me Natasha, if you want,” she added, her tone softening to the surprise of you both.

The last words fell from her lips on their own, and they felt like the right thing to say. Maybe it is the way you’re looking at her, with those innocent eyes and smile, that led her to let her guard down so easily. She is trying to find an explanation, but the only satisfying one that comes to her mind is that you are an angel, sent to charm her with that pretty face.

An angel, that’s the word, the only one that’s strong enough to describe what she is seeing right now. From the way the dress follows your curves to the soft features of your face, everything is perfect in her eyes, and even if she tried to, she can’t find a single defect, any more than she is able to keep her suspicions.

She even feels guilty for the way she talked to you previously, her words had been so harsh when you seem to genuinely just want to talk with Barton, not even knowing her name, something unbelievable for someone from her world, someone used to always be a target for everyone, never a friend to anyone.

But you are not from the same world as her, or Barton, she can tell just by looking into your eyes, and that’s the whole problem, because she has no idea how to evolve around someone of your kind, someone that doesn’t even know her name. Her reality is rough, a place where pity and kindness doesn’t exist, where everything is just about who’s the most powerful, it is a world without limits, without morals, and you are the complete opposite.

You are looking like you are made of glass, and when she looks into your eyes, the only thing she sees is the innocence one can only find in the gaze of children. She can tell that you haven’t been broken by life yet, which is a miracle on this planet, and a part of her wants to protect you. She knows it is a selfish wish, because she wants to lock you in a golden cage, somewhere you would be safe and get everything you need, except your freedom. She would hate to see an angel being corrupted, not when they are so rare.

“You can call me Lydia then,” you replied, surprised but satisfied by the turn the events took, maybe you still have a chance to complete the mission. You have no idea what changed her mind, and you don’t question it, but you notice that you somehow now have the woman wrapped around your little finger, and you barely did a thing.

“Lydia,” she repeated after you, as if she needed to say it to believe it, to be sure that you existed, and that you are not some sort of dream, “let me show you around then,” she added, coming back to reality, “the city has a lot of secrets, and I am sure you would appreciate at least some of them.”

Even if it sounds like a question, it is not. She is almost begging you to follow her, as if you would be the one doing a favor to her, when in reality it is the opposite. When you nod, a genuine smile appears on her face, she seems relieved, as if she feared that you could say no. You barely have time to say a word that her hand was already on your lower back, applying a light pressure to guide you outside.

Despite what you said earlier, you know exactly who Natasha Romanoff is, it would have been impossible to ignore her identity when her face is everywhere on the news and streets. However, apart from her name, you don’t know a lot about the woman. She is quite mysterious, always refusing interviews, never answering personal questions, and nothing can be found online, she is a ghost.

All you know are the rumors that depict her as someone that gets everything she wants, and it’s no coincidence that she is now at the head of one of the richest companies on earth. She built her fortune from scratch, and some people say that if she was able to earn that much money so quickly, it’s because part of her business is illegal. However, there is no proof of that, and it’s probably just an idea her opponents are fueling in the hope that it will tarnish her reputation, and impact her business at the same time.

Perhaps you would have acted more prudently if you had those rumors in mind when talking to the woman, but those were forgotten the moment her hand found its way on your back, the way her thumb is brushing circles on your skin being so soft that you let your guard down. For once, maybe you’re going to enjoy the evening, and maybe you will come home feeling something that isn’t self-disgust.

Maybe she is a mean CEO, that would explain the rumors, but maybe life left her no choice, maybe she is a bit like you, a woman that tries her best to survive in this world. When you observe her face under the moonlight, it’s all you can think about.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

It is later that day, in the secret of her hotel room, that everything happened. Just as usual, you convinced your victim to make the night last a bit longer, and she brought you to that luxurious room where she is staying. It has been only the two of you, and you actually enjoyed the feeling of her hands on your skin. The praises she whispered in your ears when you were begging her, desperate for the release she denied you, is all you can think about as you are leaving the building the next morning.

The thought of the dirty things she did and told to you are enough to make you blush again, and you are surprised to realize that you’re already missing her presence. You chase those thoughts away, far from your mind, by telling yourself that it was just a play, something that needed to be done, and she will probably be quick to forget about your existence.

She probably used you as much as you did anyway, you noticed the way she looked at you as if you were a porcelain doll, something to possess, something to break. It was a one night thing for the both of you, and it’s probably better that way.

However, this morning, when you woke up, you were reluctant. You wanted to stay in bed, in the warmth of the bed forever, you almost left without stealing anything, feeling guilty to do that to the woman — it was easier when you were hating your victim. You would’ve probably left without taking anything if you didn’t need the money so badly, and you’re sure she won’t miss a few dollars.

By the time she notices you are gone, you are already far away. She was getting out of the bathroom, asking you what you would like for breakfast, and the silence that met her question made her realize that the room was empty, you left.

She was standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a towel, and her eyes were scanning the room with desperation. The only proof that last night was real are the memories of you beneath her, and a piece of paper on the bedside table. She immediately reached for it, but the paper didn’t say much, and the few words you wrote left a feeling of disappointment in her chest: “Sorry, I have to go, but thanks, the night was cool.”

She doesn’t know what she was hoping for, but for sure she was hoping for more than that, maybe your number, or a promise to come back. It made her feel so silly, and she crumpled the paper before throwing it away, erasing the only evidence of your visit in her room.

Natasha would have liked to share one last moment with you, she thought about getting breakfast at that fancy restaurant across the street. She is thinking about how you would have enjoyed watching the sun rise over the city, as she is sitting here alone. She wished she had a chance to say goodbye to you, because maybe then she would’ve been able to get your number, or anything that would have allowed you to stay in touch, or maybe you didn’t want to. Perhaps you learned about the rumors, and that’s why you left so quickly this morning.

She has been here for maybe one hour when a waitress brings her the note. She was lost in her thoughts the whole time, and barely ate the expensive breakfast she ordered, but she couldn’t care less, money is not a problem when you are one of the richests people on that planet. But to her surprise, when she looks into her wallet, she finds it empty — you only left a few coins.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Tag list : no one atm, but if you're interested, let me know!

#a spes writing #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #reader insert #female reader #mcu au #mcu women #mcu fanfiction #pretty faces dark souls

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steveseddie · 6 days

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laced

steddie | rating: e | wc: 8,6k | cw: none | tags: steve pov, getting together via lingerie, eddie in panties, blow jobs, anal fingering, thigh fucking, first kiss, yes in that order

for week 3 of @steddiesmuttyseptember using the prompt “lingerie”

click here to read on ao3

Steve watches as Eddie struggles to squeeze ketchup on his food. He’s squeezing the bottle with both hands, cursing under his breath when nothing comes out despite the cap being open.

“Fucking stupid useless piece of shit bottle!”

Steve snorts from across the Munson’s kitchen table. “Y’know, Eds? Maybe it’s not the bottle. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of saying you shouldn’t put ketchup on your eggs.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him over the bottle. “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, eh Steve?”

He huffs. “I tried it, remember? You force-fed me eggs with ketchup two weeks ago,” Steve says in a bitchy tone and Eddie lets out a small tee-hee giggle at the reminder. “And it was fucking gross.”

With a shrug, Eddie says, “Maybe your palate isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate such delicacies.”

“Not sophisticated-” Steve cuts himself off with a snort. “Dude, I ate caviar for the first time when I was six,” he snarks, kicking Eddie’s foot under the table.

The snobby comment makes Eddie let out a loud and full-bellied laugh but Steve doesn’t get a chance to bask in the warm feeling that spreads through him whenever he makes Eddie laugh like that because, in that moment, ketchup squirts from the bottle that Eddie’s hands are still wrapped around and it lands directly on Steve’s chest, leaving a big red sauce stain on his pristine yellow polo.

“Goddammit,” Steve curses, grabbing a handful of napkins and rubbing at the stain, but it’s pointless.

He looks up and finds Eddie staring at him like a deer caught in headlights— wide-eyed and mouth open, the offending bottle still in his hands.

“Um,” he clears his throat, smiling innocently, “whoops?”

Steve groans, balls up the napkins and throws them at Eddie’s face.

It hits him square on the forehead, leaving a tiny red sauce stain in the space between his eyebrows. “Hey! It wasn’t my fault!” Eddie protests. Steve stares pointedly at the bottle he’s holding. “Okay, I didn’t mean to!”

“That’s not gonna make this stain disappear, Eds,” Steve says, “or change the fact that I have to be at work in twenty minutes!”

“Hey, maybe no one will notice?” Steve raises an eyebrow at him—really? Eddie visibly winces. “Yeah, okay, you can borrow something from me and I’ll throw that in the washer later.”

Steve throws his head back with a groan, pushing himself up from the table. “Great.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my clothes?” Eddie asks, affronted, but Steve has already started walking towards his room so his question goes unanswered.

Truth is there’s nothing wrong with Eddie’s clothes. Steve loves them. He loves how Eddie looks in them and he loves borrowing them— he loves seeing himself in Eddie’s clothes almost as much as he loves watching Eddie wear his. He just doesn’t love wearing them for work, his trademark skulls and devils always make the old ladies that visit Family Video clutch their pearls and give him nasty looks when he greets them.

But Steve can’t go a whole shift with a giant ketchup stain on his chest, so with a sigh, he heads to Eddie’s dresser where he knows he keeps his shirts and sets off to find the least offensive one for him to borrow.

He’s rummaging through band tees and Hellfire shirts when his fingers brush against something soft and lacey.

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, his fist closing around the piece of clothing and pulling it out from the drawer to inspect it. He’s never seen Eddie wear anything this soft or delicate, he’s all cotton and denim and leather—

And red lace panties apparently.

Steve’s eyes nearly bulge out from his head when he stares down at his hand and the piece of lingerie he just pulled from Eddie’s dresser.

Heat starts to build up in his cheeks the longer he holds them because here’s the thing: Steve knows Eddie is gay and he’s made it clear that he’s never been with a girl so these—the panties Steve is holding—can’t belong to anyone but him.

Which, holy shit.

Before he can stop himself, his brain conjures up the image of Eddie wearing these and Steve goes dizzy with how fast the blood that crept up to his cheeks rushes south, something hot and heavy settling on his lower stomach.

Then the bedroom door swings open abruptly and Steve jumps, nearly dropping the panties in surprise.

Eddie saunters in. “Did His Majesty find a shirt worthy of his- oh.”

He cuts himself off when he recognizes what Steve is holding in his hand, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly before he schools his features into something neutral.

Meanwhile, Steve looks like he just got caught red-handed. Which, he literally just did. “I wasn’t, um- I was just looking for a shirt that won’t make Mrs. Donovan accuse me of being a satanist again.”

“What would she think if she knew you’re wearing that?” Eddie jokes and it’s only because Steve knows him so well that he notices the way his voice wavers slightly and his laugh comes out a little shaky.

“I wouldn’t-” He holds his hands up, the panties still clutched between his fingers. He hands them over to Eddie like they’re burning him. “Uh, here.”

Eddie takes them, raising an eyebrow at Steve’s jittery behavior. “Dude, relax, don’t act like you haven’t seen your fair share of panties, King Steve.”

And he has just not—

“Not in my male friend’s drawers.”

Eddie visibly flinches, his mouth twisting like he tasted something sour. “Right,” he says, his voice clipped.

Well, shit.

Steve instantly tries to backtrack. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean- it’s just weird- fuck, not weird, that’s not- guys can own panties too- fuck conformity and all that shit, right? I mean, if they’re yours, um, are they? Yours?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him warily. “If I say yes, you promise not to be weird about it?”

“Of course, man!” Steve says, his voice an octave higher than usual. Damn it.

“Very convincing, Steve,” Eddie says with a snort but he must believe him at least a little because he tugs some of his hair in front of his face and quietly admits, “Uh, yeah, they’re- They’re mine.”

He’s being uncharacteristically shy about this, unlike the time Steve asked about the handkerchief that hangs from his jeans or the handcuffs that he keeps on his headboard, then again they were high when that happened and Steve wasn’t being so painfully awkward.

And okay, it’s not because he’s uncomfortable or anything- or well, not in the way Eddie thinks. More in the ‘his jeans feel suddenly tighter and he can’t wait until he can go home and jerk off’ way but he can’t tell Eddie that.

So he tries to prove to Eddie he’s not weirded out some other way.

“Well, they’re- they’re nice,” he says, hoping that his smile doesn’t look too strained. “I like the color.”

Eddie leers at him. “Oh-ho-ho, is Steve Harrington a red panties kind of guy?”

And he’s not, not really. He doesn’t have a preference but given how the thought of Eddie in red panties is clearly doing it for him, maybe he is. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Eddie.

He swallows a few times, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Nah, not like you are,” he says, his voice coming out a little shaky around the joke, but at least it makes Eddie laugh and it diffuses the tension between them a little bit.

“Fair enough.”

“So, um, where did you get them?”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Why? Looking for ideas for my birthday present?” He asks teasingly. Now that he knows Steve isn’t really weirded out, he seems intent on making him squirm as much as he can. “Women’s department at a shop in Indy. Told the woman at the register they were for my girlfriend,” he snorts, “you should’ve seen her, Stevie, she was scandalized.”

Steve chuckles at the thought of Eddie walking to the register and slapping the panties in front of some middle-aged woman, earning him the stink eye.

“Don’t know if she actually believed I have a girlfriend,” Eddie goes on, “she probably did. I think she would’ve sent me on my merry way if she knew they were for me. Maybe next time I’ll tell her they are just to ruffle her feathers.”

“Or to get banned from the store,” Steve replies with a chuckle. Then he asks, “Did you only go that one time?”

Eddie nods. “Haven’t been to Indy in a while and I guess I could find some here but- it’s different. In the city no one knows who I am and no one cares, but here? They all know who the Freak is and that he doesn’t have a girlfriend so if they saw me buying panties? It’ll surely get the gossip mill going,” he says, tone slightly bitter. “That’s also why I don’t wear them often, y’know? First of all, they’re a bitch to wash, Stevie, I’m telling you, but also I try to be careful, it only takes one asshole jock deciding to pant me for everyone in Hawkins to find out Eddie Munson likes to wear women’s underwear.”

Steve nods in understanding. Meanwhile, his lizard brain wonders if Eddie’s ever worn them while hanging out with him. He forces his mind out of the gutter so he can reassure Eddie.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he says, “I won’t say anything.”

Eddie gives him a soft amused look. “I know that, sweetheart.”

Steve, who nearly had his blush under control by now, can feel his cheeks pinking up again at the pet name. “Good, okay, um. Anyway, I should probably change and head out if I want to get to work on time.”

He blindly reaches into Eddie’s dresser, grabbing the first shirt he finds. “Yup, that’ll do,” he says without even looking at it. “I’m just gonna- yeah.”

He starts walking backward towards the bathroom. Eddie waves goodbye at him, the panties still clutched in his fingers. Steve’s eyes zero in on them and stay there for a little too long, resulting in him being so unaware of his surroundings that he bumps against the wall on his way out of the room.

Eddie watches all of this with curious eyes and Steve worries that he’ll see right through Steve’s blush and his nervous behavior. He holds Eddie’s borrowed shirt in front of his jeans as he exits the room just in case.

In the bathroom, he changes into said shirt. The whole time, he can’t stop thinking about the damn panties, his face burning.

He splashes water on it, trying to cool down.

“Get it together, Harrington,” he tells his flushed reflection in the mirror. His eyes dart down and he can’t help but groan at the shirt he blindly grabbed from Eddie’s dresser.

Not a skull and not a devil, but a metalhead from some band, raising both of his middle fingers and sticking his tongue out the way Eddie does when he throws up those damn devil horns of his.

“Fucking great.”

He hopes fucking Mrs. Donovan doesn’t come into Family Video looking for a movie to rent today.

***

“Earth to Steve?” Robin waves her hands in front of Steve’s face. “Hello?”

When that doesn’t snap Steve out of his thoughts, Robin flicks his forehead. “Ow! What the hell, dude?” He slaps her hand away, straightening up from where he was leaning on the counter, pretending to sort out tapes while actually staring into space, thoughts of Eddie swirling around in his head.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for like ten minutes!”

“Oh,” he hangs a hand from his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, Robs.”

She sighs then narrows her eyes at him. “Are you okay? You’re distracted today.”

“I’m not!”

“No? You just put Halloween in the romance pile, dingus,” she says, picking up the horror tape from said romance pile.

“Uh, well, some might consider Mike Myers being obsessed with this Laurie chic romantic?” Steve jokes.

Robin snorts but keeps staring at him with curious eyes. It reminds Steve of Eddie this morning and that reminds him of the panties which immediately has a blush creeping up on his face. Robin’s eyes narrow further until she’s basically squinting. It’s a good thing they can’t actually read each other’s thoughts the way they always joke about. That doesn’t mean Robin isn��t trying to do it with how hard she’s staring at him.

“I’m fine, Robs,” Steve says, squirming under her stare.

But just because she can’t read his mind doesn’t mean she can’t tell he’s lying. “Well, that’s convincing,” she snorts, “seriously, what’s happening in that big hairy head of yours?”

Well, Robin, turns out that our friend Eddie, who I have a raging gay crush on, happens to own a pair of red lace panties and now I can’t stop thinking about him wearing them!

Steve scrunches up his nose. “You don’t wanna know, Robs.”

His words don’t stop her from pushing. “Does it have anything to do with that awful thing you’re wearing? Seriously, Steve, the woman that was just here crossed herself and walked out as soon as she saw you.”

Steve looks down at the shirt, lips pursed. “I had to borrow this from Eddie-”

“Obviously.”

“-because he fucking squirted me with ketchup this morning.”

Robin scrunches up her nose. “Gross, dude, don’t say it like that, ew!”

Steve sniggers, bonking her head with one of the tapes. He really should go back to sorting them out and actually doing his job. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t own anything remotely normal.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah, love the guy but his taste in clothes is bad with a capital B.”

At least his taste in panties is good, Steve thinks, then bites his tongue so hard he visibly winces.

Robin notices but luckily misinterprets it as Steve being offended on Eddie’s behalf. “You know I’m right! Just because you have a crush on him and drool over his chains and ripped jeans and cropped shirts on a daily basis doesn’t mean I’m not!”

“Hey!” Steve protests weakly. “I don’t drool.”

“Hm, yes you do and it’s embarrassing,” she says, ignoring Steve’s string of offended noises, “Speaking of Eddie! When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you want to boink him.”

“Boink?” Steve echoes, pulling a face. “No one fucking calls it that!”

Robin shrugs. “Whatever, so when?”

“I was thinking- never,” he says and Robin dramatically collapses on the counter, a few tapes toppling to the floor when she knocks them over with her bony elbows. He knows what comes next— they’ve been having this discussion since Steve confessed that he liked boys and that he liked Eddie a few weeks ago. She’ll insist that Steve should tell him, Steve will say no, she’ll ask why and it will spiral into her trying to convince Steve of all the reasons why he should. He doesn’t want to get into that right now, not after this morning. There’s only so much he can take so he doesn’t give her the chance to kickstart the argument, throwing her own question back at her, “When are you gonna tell Vickie?”

She jerks her head upright to glare at him. Steve just shrugs.

“Speaking of Vickie,” she says and Steve snorts at the way she blatantly ignores his question. “Her birthday is coming up and I want to get her something nice so I need you to take me to Indy this weekend.”

“And why would I do that?” Steve asks in a bitchy tone that they both know is only for show.

“Because you’re my best friend and my platonic soulmate and we’re bonded for life and you love me,” she says, batting her eyelashes at him, her hands held together in front of her in a pleading gesture.

Steve snorts. “Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll take you.”

She throws her arms up in celebration, a few more tapes toppling to the floor. Her nose scrunches up and she disappears behind the counter to pick them up.

When she pops back up, she waggles her eyebrows at Steve. “Maybe you can find something for Eddie too,” she says teasingly.

Eddie’s words from earlier, when Steve asked where he got the lingerie, ring in Steve’s ears— Why? Looking for ideas for my birthday present?

It makes the back of his neck feel like it’s one fire, and before Robin can ask what that’s about, he leans down to pick the tapes that fell on his side of the counter. “Hm, yeah, uh- maybe.”

Luckily Robin districts herself listing some of the things that Vickie might like and she doesn’t notice how strangled Steve’s voice comes out at the thought of getting Eddie some new panties.

Not that Steve will do it. He won’t obviously.

Who fucking does that?

***

Turns out Steve fucking does that.

He slips away while Robin is roaming around a bookstore in Indy— looking for some fantasy novel that she heard Vickie talk about. She barely listens to him when he says he’s going to find the bathroom, waving him off as she rattles whatever detail she can remember about the book to the frazzled teen working at the bookstore with the hope that she’ll know exactly what book Robin is talking about.

Steve does go looking for the bathroom but on his way back he walks past a window displaying lingerie. He pauses in front of it and his mouth goes dry as he pictures Eddie wearing the different sets of panties on display.

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s walking into the store and picking the ones that caught his attention the most— a pair of black lace panties with a cute little pink bow.

The lady at the register raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him when he hands those over but luckily she doesn’t say anything. Most likely she thinks Steve is getting something for his girlfriend, but even if there’s no way for her to know that he’s actually buying them for his metalhead friend who Steve has a raging crush on, he still feels a blush creeping up his neck when she asks if he wants her to put it in a gift bag.

Steve says yes only to realize he will have to run to the car to drop it off before meeting up with Robin again, lest she sees it and starts questioning Steve about it, but at least when he gives it to Eddie it will look pretty.

Much like Eddie will in those panties.

The thought makes his blush spread to his ears and with a mumbled “thank you” he grabs the bag and runs out of there.

***

It’s not until a week later that Steve finally decides to give Eddie his gift. Mostly because he knows he can’t keep the bag hidden under his bed forever, it’s only a matter of time before Robin, one of the kids, or Eddie himself finds it and that’s something he doesn’t want to have to explain.

Not that he knows how he’ll explain to Eddie that he got him a pair of panties but whatever.

He’s still trying to figure that one out when he parks the Beemer in front of Eddie’s trailer. Wayne’s truck isn’t there, having already left for work, which Steve was counting on. There’s no way he’s doing this in front of Eddie’s uncle, he would die of embarrassment before Eddie even sees the gift. But even knowing that Wayne isn’t there does little to appease Steve’s nerves and he needs to take a few deep breaths before he exits the car, pink gift bag in hand.

“It’s just a gift,” Steve mutters to himself as he walks up the steps. “A friendly gift, you got Eddie something he likes, he’s not going to read into it.”

With a shaky hand, he knocks on the door.

“He doesn’t know you haven’t stopped thinking about the panties for a whole fucking week,” he goes on, running his free hand through his hair as he hears footsteps approaching through the thin walls of the trailer. “Or that you jerked off to the thought of him wearing them or that you wish you could see him in the ones you got for him!” He shakes his head with a nervous chuckle. “There’s no fucking need to make this weird, okay? Okay.”

The door swings open and Steve’s jaw snaps shut as Eddie’s head pops into view. “Stevie!” He says, his face breaking into a beaming smile that makes Steve’s heart stutter. “Hey!”

“H-hi, Eds,” he says, wiggling his fingers. He keeps his other hand behind his back, holding the bag out of view.

Eddie leans against the door frame, cocking his head. “What brings you here, buddy?”

“Um, well. I got you something.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. “A gift?” He gasps, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. He pokes his chest. “For moi?”

When Steve nods, Eddie makes grabby hands at him. “Gimme!”

“Um, can I come in first?”

“Well, duh!” Eddie says, stepping aside and sweeping his arm over the entrance with a flourish.

Steve steps in, and despite knowing Wayne is gone for the night, he starts walking towards Eddie’s room. It feels weird to give this gift to Eddie in the living room, considering what it is.

Because giving your friend a new set of panties because you haven’t stopped thinking about the ones he already owns is any less weird if you do it in the bedroom, Steve’s brain supplies.

Fuck, is he really doing this?

“Soooo,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder, trying to peek at the bag in his hands. “Whatcha got for me, Stevie?”

Yeah, he is. There’s no turning back now.

“Here,” Steve says, handing over the pink bag with shaky hands. Eddie snatches it greedily, momentarily distracted by the pink bow decorating it before he sticks his hand inside.

Steve holds his breath but resists the urge to shut his eyes, not wanting to miss Eddie’s reaction. That way he’ll be ready if Eddie looks like he wants to punch Steve or kick him out.

But when Eddie’s fingers brush the soft material and his expression changes, Steve doesn’t know what to brace himself for.

Eddie’s eyes are wide as he drags his hand out, black lace panties clutched in his fingers, and he gasps audibly when he sees them, letting the bag fall at his feet.

“S-Steve?” He asks, only slightly above a whisper. He’s not looking at Steve but staring down at the panties instead— a blush rapidly creeping on his cheeks.

Steve doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad and it makes him nervous. “I- I went shopping in Indy and I saw those and I thought- I thought I’d get them for you.”

Eddie’s big eyes blink up at him. “You thought you’d get me lingerie-”

His voice doesn’t betray anything except shock and Steve fidgets, hanging a hand from his neck. “Uh yeah? I’m sorry if that’s like, weird- fuck it’s weird, isn’t it? It’s just that I haven’t really stopped thinking about last week-”

Eddie’s eyes go wide.

Panicking, Steve starts rambling, hands on his hips as he paces back and forth. “You know, thinking about how you said you didn’t get the chance to- to buy these things here so I thought I’d get you those. They’re uh pretty, I thought you’d look-” Eddie’s eyes go impossibly wider at that. “Shit, not that I’ve thought about you wearing lingerie! Just- they’re nice! You’d look good in black, they’ll match your tattoos and they’ll look good with your skin and- and- fuck, okay, shit, maybe I thought about it- About you wearing those and- and the other ones. It’s- shit, it’s actually all I can think about,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. Eddie makes some sort of strangled noise. “Fuck, I’m gonna shut up now.”

Steve stares anxiously at Eddie, but he doesn’t say anything, just stares at him, wide-eyed and slacked-jawed.

Steve can’t help but squirm. “Can you- can you say something, Eddie, please?”

“You-” Eddie starts but has to stop to clear his throat when his voice comes out an octave higher. “You thought about me wearing panties?”

Steve hangs his head between his shoulders with a sigh. “Y-yeah,” he admits, “a lot.”

Eddie’s sharp inhale is followed by a muttered string of curses. “Shit, shit, shit. Holy shit.”

“Eddie, I’m sorry-”

“Did you-” Eddie pauses to lick his lips. “Did you do something about it?” He asks, gesturing vaguely but Steve knows what he means.

He whines, covering his face with his hands. “Yeah, I did. Fuck, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Steve-”

“I know, I’m a terrible friend-”

“What? Dude, I’m not mad.”

Steve peeks at him through his fingers. “You’re- not?”

A laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips— hilarity mixed with disbelief. “Fuck no, sweetheart,” he says and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest at the pet name. “I thought you were weirded out last week! And then you show up here with lingerie for me and I thought that’s exactly what Steve Harrington would do to prove he’s not weirded out by his friend owning panties, y’know? But this? You- thinking about me like that? Fuck, Steve, I don’t think I’m reading this wrong but if I am don’t punch me for this but- do you want to see?”

“See what?” Steve asks dumbly.

“See me in these,” Eddie says, holding the panties up as he moves closer. He pitches his voice lower when he asks, “Do you wanna see me in these panties you got for me, sweetheart?”

“Eddie-” Steve whines. Only in his wildest dreams did he expect Eddie to offer to show him. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

Eddie’s mouth curls into a devilish grin. “Sit down, baby, I’ll be right back.”

Steve falls back on the bed like a puppet whose strings were cut and watches Eddie skip to the bathroom, looking at Steve over his shoulder like he can’t believe this is really happening.

Steve can’t believe it himself.

He sits there, waiting for Eddie, hands shaking with anticipation, warmth pooling at his stomach knowing what he’s about to see.

He takes a few deep, calming breaths and it’s in the middle of one of those that Eddie walks back into the room and all of Steve’s air leaves him in a whoosh.

All Steve can do is whisper out a strangled, “Fuck.”

Eddie leans on the doorway, playing with the hem of his Black Sabbath shirt, which ends just before his waist, giving Steve a perfect view of the lace black panties stretching over Eddie’s dick, the elastic digging into his hips.

“What do you think, Stevie?” Eddie asks coyly, lifting his shirt a little further up, allowing Steve’s gaze to travel over Eddie’s happy trail right to where it disappears enticingly under that little pink bow.

“Eddie, fuck, you look beautiful,” Steve says, breathlessly.

“Yeah?” Eddie bites his lip, walking towards the bed, the dark lace shifting over his dick. Steve can’t take his eyes off of it, especially when he ends up at eye level with it as Eddie moves closer. “You like them?”

He gulps audibly. “Fuck yeah, I do,” he says, squirming on the bed as his dick starts to fill up, pushing uncomfortably against his zipper. He grips the bed sheets that he’s sitting on, fighting the urge to reach out and touch.

“I like them too,” Eddie admits, his finger tracing the delicate lace pattern. Steve’s fingers itch to do the same. “They feel nice.”

“Can I-” Steve starts before he realizes what he’s saying and shuts up.

Eddie’s eyes twinkle. “Can you what, sweetheart?”

“Touch,” Steve says, “can I touch you, Eddie?”

Eddie nods eagerly, letting his hands fall to his sides and out of the way so Steve can touch him wherever he wants.

First, Steve puts his hands on Eddie’s hips, his thumbs toying with the waistband of his panties. “You’re right,” Steve pants, “they feel nice.”

“Mhm, you- uh, you can touch more, if you want. I like feeling your hands on me.”

“God, Eddie-” He moves his hands, stroking Eddie’s sides, under his shirt. “Can you take this off?”

Eddie’s response is to pull his shirt over his head, leaving him in nothing but the panties. Steve can’t stop himself from moving his hands over Eddie’s chest— tracing his tattoos and his scars, playing with his guitar pick necklace, following the trail of hair until he reaches the waistband of the panties and then dipping his fingers past the elastic just enough to tease him.

All the while Eddie is squirming under his touch, small breathless noises slipping past his lips with every brush of Steve’s fingers.

Under the panties, his cock is fully hard now, the lace stretching obscenely over his length. Slowly, so Eddie can stop him if he wants to, Steve moves his hand lower. Eddie holds his breath, watching with rapt attention as Steve’s fingers ghost over his dick, barely touching.

He whines, hips bucking forward. “Steve-”

The sound goes straight to Steve’s dick, fully hard now and still trapped in his jeans, but like hell if he’s going to stop paying attention to Eddie to relieve the pressure building inside him. It can wait— for now, he cups Eddie’s dick over his panties and squeezes.

Eddie makes a broken, surprised noise, his hands flying to his own hair and pulling at it just to have something to hold on to as Steve works his hand over his length repeatedly, stroking him. “Fuck, Steve, baby-” Eddie sobs, bucking his hips towards the insistent movement of Steve’s hand.

Steve glances up at him, hand still moving, and meets Eddie’s eyes. They’re nearly black and his lips are parted and red from Eddie biting them and there’s a flush spreading from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. “God, Eddie, you’re gorgeous, did you know that?” He says, awed. Eddie makes a weak noise in the back of his throat. “So fucking pretty for me.”

The praise makes Eddie’s dick twitch, the tip leaking and leaving a damp spot on the panties.

Steve’s mouth waters. “Eddie-” He wants to lean in and taste him, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

Luckily he doesn’t have to, Eddie sees right through him. “Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says, one of his hands moving to brush some of Steve’s hair away from his face. “Whatever you want.”

Once he’s given permission, Steve licks his lips and then he leans in, licking Eddie’s dick from base to tip, leaving a trail of spit over the black lace.

Eddie moans out, obscenely loud. Steve needs to hear that noise again, so he repeats what he did over and over.

“Holy shit, oh my god-” Eddie’s words trail off into a whine when Steve licks directly at the tip of his cock where it’s peeking out from the panties. Tasting Eddie for the first time has Steve shoving a hand between his own legs and squeezing his dick, desperate for some friction.

He gives a few more tentative kitten licks to the tip before fully wrapping his lips around the head and sucking.

“Motherfu- ah! Steve!” Eddie cries out, his knees buckling and Steve has to grab his hips to keep him on his feet.

“You okay?” Steve asks, letting Eddie’s dick fall from his lips, going back to the kitten licks and soft kisses to the tip.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Eddie says, breath stuttering from Steve’s mouth on him. “Or maybe- ah, maybe I already died and I’m in heaven.”

Steve snorts, but he blushes at the praise.

Eddie runs his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. “You’d make a pretty angel, Stevie, though what you’re doing to me right now is downright sinful.”

“Hm, do you want me to stop?” Steve asks, eyelashes fluttering.

“Fuck, no.”

“Good, because I don’t want to. I want to make you come,” he admits, looking at Eddie with hungry eyes.

“I- yeah, that’s not going to be a hard goal to achieve, Steve,” Eddie exhales on a chuckle.

“Come here,” Steve says, grabbing two handfuls of Eddie’s lace-covered ass and bringing him forward so he can get his mouth back on him. It might not be a proper blowjob but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He clearly enjoys the way Steve sucks at the tip, presses his tongue against the slit, mouthes at the rest of his dick over the panties. His hands eventually find Steve’s hair and he runs his fingers through the messy strands, encouragingly.

After a while, Eddie’s legs start to shake and Steve knows he won’t be able to hold himself up much longer, so with a final sloppy kiss to the head of his dick, he pushes Eddie back and stands up, disentangling Eddie’s fingers from his hair.

Eddie whines, hips stuttering and chasing after Steve’s mouth, but Steve doesn’t let him despair for long.

“Get on the bed,” he says, “I want you spread out on the bed for me.”

“Fuck, okay.”

He quickly does as he’s told, lying on his back on the bed. Steve’s hand darts between his legs again, cupping himself at the sight in front of him.

Eddie’s eyes follow his hand. “Think you should lose those jeans, big boy. The shirt too,” he suggests, “it’s only fair, considering I only have these panties on.”

And that’s some solid logic right there who is Steve to argue?

With one swift movement, he shrugs off his shirt, feeling Eddie’s eyes on him. Then he makes quick work of his button and zipper, letting his jeans pool at his ankles before stepping out of them.

“Oh,” Eddie gasps, and when Steve looks up, he finds him staring a hole into Steve’s boxers.

“What?”

“Nothing, just- you’re actually into this,” he says, gesturing at Steve’s crotch, the outline of his hard dick painstakingly obvious. “Into me.”

Steve snorts. “And you’re realizing that just now?”

“Dude, I told myself so many times there was no way-”

“Please don’t call me dude while I can still taste your dick in my mouth, Eddie,” Steve says, scrunching up his nose.

But Eddie ignores him and goes on, “-no way this could ever happen, it’s kinda hard to believe it.”

“Well, it is and I’ll prove it to you,” Steve says, climbing onto the bed and settling between Eddie’s legs. Now that he knows he’s allowed, he wastes no time going for what he wants, which is mouthing sloppily at Eddie’s dick, coating his panties with spit.

It makes Eddie squirm violently on the bed, gripping the bedsheets and letting out so many moans and curses.

When he pulls back to breathe, Steve can’t help but groan when he sees that the lace panties are basically see-through now from Steve’s spit and Eddie’s precum. “I think we might ruin your panties.”

Eddie snorts weakly. “I quite literally do not give a shit,” he says, waving a dismissive hand at Steve. “But you can take them off if you wanna.”

“No,” Steve says right away. He traces the lacey pattern with a featherlight touch. “I don’t, I like you in these.”

Eddie lets out a low groan. “Oh, fuck me.”

Steve’s finger freezes as he considers Eddie’s words. “Can I?”

“Huh?”

“Can I fuck you? Can I use my fingers?”

Eddie gapes at him. “You want to?” When Steve nods eagerly, he lets out a whoosh of air. “Holy shit, yeah, of course you can. There’s, uh, lube in the nightstand.”

That’s all Steve needs to scramble to the bedside table and grab the bottle of lube. He wastes no time coating his fingers, eager to get them inside Eddie but not wanting to rush and risk hurting him.

He considers taking the panties off for better access but there’s no need because Eddie drags his legs up until his knees are bent, his feet flat against the mattress, and then he snakes a hand between his legs, grabs hold of the panties and moves them to one side, exposing his hole.

“Oh my God,” Steve gasps, going dizzy with arousal.

“Steve,” Eddie whines when he doesn’t move. It snaps Steve out of it and he rubs his fingers together, warming up the lube, before he brings one finger to Eddie’s entrance so he can rub at the puckered skin before pushing it in. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, Steve-”

Eddie takes Steve’s first finger greedily and asks for a second one after Steve fucks him with it only a handful of times. Steve happily gives him a second finger and when he asks for a third, Steve gives him that too. He curls his fingers in a way that has Eddie jolting from pleasure and letting out the neediest of whines. Aiming for that spot, Steve fucks him with those three fingers until Eddie’s back is arching from the bed, an incessant string of praises and curses falling from his lips.

“God, Steve, so good, sweetheart, fucking me so good, fuck, I’m close-”

Steve drinks in every word, feels them go straight to his own dick, his lower belly simmering with arousal. His brain is foggy, but he does his best to pay attention to every detail of how Eddie moves and sounds, committing them to memory for when he’s alone.

There’s one thing he wants to see more than anything— Eddie coming for him. So he speeds up his pace, feeling the elastic of the panties dig into his wrist on every thrust. And because he can’t help himself, he also lowers his face so it’s lined up with Eddie’s dick, putting his mouth on him again, sucking enthusiastically at the head.

“Jesus, fuck! Stevie, oh God,” Eddie pants, nearly jumping off the bed when Steve adds his mouth back to the mix. He thrashes around on the bed as Steve finds a ruthless rhythm between his fingers and his mouth.

He keeps his eyes open and on Eddie, sensing how close he is and not wanting to miss any of it.

When Steve purposefully times a particular hard suck with his fingers hitting that spot inside him, it finally happens.

With a loud, strangled moan, Eddie comes. Hard. Steve has to pull off so he doesn’t choke and he only manages to swallow some of his cum, the last few spurts mixed with his spit dripping from his mouth and all over Eddie’s spent dick and the panties stretching over it. It’s fucking filthy and Steve has to sit back on his heels and squeeze his dick so he doesn’t come untouched.

His other hand is still inside Eddie, three fingers deep, and he can’t resist rubbing the pad of his thumb over Eddie’s hole where it’s stretched around Steve. The touch makes Eddie squirm and mewl, his dick giving a pathetic twitch.

Slowly, Steve withdraws his fingers and the elastic of the panties snaps back into place. Eddie lets out a soft whine at that.

Steve takes a moment to admire Eddie.

He’s a fucking mess— his hair fanned out against the bed, a flush spreading down to his chest, cum and spit and lube coating his panties. Steve feels the urge to mess him up even more. He wants to jerk himself off and come all over Eddie. At this point, it’ll take two or three strokes at best.

“Hey, uh,” Steve clears his throat, his voice rough from sucking Eddie off. “I’ve got some bad news.”

“Hm?” Even if Eddie acknowledges Steve he still seems out of it, it takes a few seconds for his cloudy eyes to find and focus on him. “What’s that?”

“Your panties are definitely ruined,” Steve announces regretfully.

Eddie snorts weakly. “So am I,” he says, a sort of disbelieving laugh tumbling from his lips. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steve.”

Steve lets out a pleased chuckle, warmth spreading through him at Eddie’s awed tone.

“Gimme a moment and I’ll return the favor, m’kay, sweetheart?” He tells Steve, smiling lazily.

It’s silly but Steve feels himself blush at the endearment. “Oh, you- uh, you don’t have to-”

Eddie scoffs. “You don’t have to, he says. Steve, I want to.”

A small needy noise slips past Steve’s lips. “What do you want?”

“Nu-uh, Stevie, it’s your turn. This is about what you want."

Steve gulps as he goes over every thought he’s had about Eddie since he realized he was into him, especially in the last week. “I- fuck, honestly? I really want to fuck you,” he says, watching Eddie’s eyes visibly darken at his words. “But I don’t think I’ll last long enough to make it good,” he admits sheepishly.

Eddie whispers a breathy, “Fuck.” He shakes his head in disbelief like he still can’t wrap his head around Steve being so turned on without either of them even touching his dick. “I- we can save that for next time.”

Steve’s breath catches— next time? Holy shit.

Eddie’s head lolls to the side. He looks at Steve with hazy eyes. “You could- uh, you could fuck my thighs,” he suggests almost shyly. “Y’know, if you want.”

Boy does he ever. “Eds,” Steve says, voice thick with lust. “Hell yeah, I want.”

Eddie flashes him a pleased grin, and then with renewed energy, he rolls over, settling on his hands and knees on the bed. Steve groans at the sight of Eddie’s ass framed by black lace.

“Like what you see?” Eddie asks, smirking at Steve over his shoulder and fucking- shaking his ass.

“You have no idea,” Steve breathes out.

“I have some idea,” Eddie says cheekily, staring pointedly at Steve’s crotch where his dick is tenting his boxers obscenely. “C’mon, let me see you, big boy.”

Feeling Eddie’s eyes on him, Steve grabs the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down, his dick slapping against his stomach, hard as a rock.

Eddie noticeably swallows, cursing under his breath. “Shit, yeah, big boy is right.”

Steve smirks, wrapping his hand around his dick and giving it a few slow strokes. Eddie whines, fingers digging roughly on the bedsheets. Steve wonders if he’s thinking about replacing Steve’s hand with his or if he’d rather use his mouth. Next time— the words ring in Steve’s ears but he forces himself to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing now.

“Can I-” He trails off, gesturing at Eddie’s ass. Eddie nods eagerly.

Steve situates himself behind him, skin buzzing with arousal and anticipation. The back of Eddie’s thighs glisten with lube from Steve messily fingering him earlier, as well as the skin between his cheeks. Eyes glued to Eddie’s ass, Steve blindly reaches for the lube and spreads a fair amount over his dick before he grabs Eddie’s hips and lines it up with the space between his thighs.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, fuck my thighs, baby,” Eddie pants, hanging his head between his arms.

And Steve can’t hold himself back anymore, almost shaking with the need to come, so he finally slips his dick between Eddie’s thighs, moaning at how soft and warm and good it feels.

Steve whispers out a strangled, “Shit.”

He pauses for a moment, his hips flush against Eddie’s ass and the back of his thighs. He’s worried he’ll come too soon, just from how hot this is, so he takes deep slow breaths to calm himself down— in and out while his fingers trace the lacey outline of the panties, marvelling at the stark contrast between the dark fabric and Eddie’s pale skin, the way it matches the dragon tattoo on Eddie’s lower back.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Steve mutters before gripping Eddie’s hips with both hands again, keeping him in place as he pulls his own hips back until just the head of his dick is peeking between Eddie’s legs and then pushes forward again.

He sets a slow but steady rhythm after that, rocking his hips back and forth. It’s so good and Steve feels his dick steadily leaking precum, which along with the lube he coated himself with earlier, is making his cock slide more smoothly against the inside of Eddie’s thighs.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so good,” he groans, his fingers gripping Eddie’s hips harder and pulling him back to him so he meets Steve’s thrusts.

Eddie catches on, pushing back on his own at the same time he squeezes his thighs together.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve moans brokenly, his hips stuttering. “Keep doing that, Eddie, please.”

“As your Majesty commands,” Eddie says dorkily even if it comes out slightly strangled.

Steve doesn’t get to call him out on it because then he’s pressing his legs tightly around Steve’s cock, making it impossible to string words together, only high-pitched whines and needy whimpers leaving Steve’s lips.

“I swear to God,” Eddie pants, “I’m gonna come again just from those fucking- sounds you keep making.”

Steve groans loudly and hears Eddie let out a string of curses before he leans his weight on one hand so the other one can reach between his legs. Curious, Steve moves to bend over Eddie’s back, his arms wrapping around him, his chin pressing against the back of Eddie’s neck.

“H-hey,” Eddie says shakily, turning his head so he can smile at Steve far too sweet for what they’re doing right now.

“Hey,” Steve says back, kissing Eddie’s shoulder and laughing at the way Eddie yelps and jumps when Steve’s hand snakes under him to find that he’s hard again. “Let me.”

“Wait- fuck, it’s your- your turn-” But Eddie’s protest dies on his lips when Steve replaces his hand on his dick.

“My turn to pick what I want, yeah. And I want you to come again, Eds, with me this time. I’m close, babe,” Steve whispers against his ear as he starts rolling his hips again, fucking into Eddie’s thighs and stroking him at the same time.

Eddie lets out a strangled, “Fuck, sweetheart,” which Steve choruses with his own breathless curse, lips pressed against the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“God, Eddie, you feel amazing,” Steve moans, moving faster, both his hips and his hand on Eddie’s dick, his thumb smearing precum around the sensitive head.

“Gonna- fuck, Steve- gonna feel so much better when you fuck me,” Eddie says, panting heavily.

“God, shut up-” Steve whimpers when Eddie’s words send shocks of pleasure through his body in an almost painful way.

“Gonna ruin me even more then, sweetheart,” Eddie says, decidedly ignoring Steve and not shutting up. “Mark me up inside too, it’d be so easy to just, fuck- just move the panties to the side and slide in- ah, Steve-”

The rest of Eddie’s words die in his throat as pleasure builds up almost unbearably for the two of them. The only sounds that can be heard after that are the slapping of skin against skin as Steve continues to fuck Eddie’s thighs and the string of whines and choked-up noises spilling from both of their lips.

Eddie’s words echo in Steve’s mind— next time and when you fuck me and move the panties to the side and mark me up inside. It’s the last one that tips him over the edge or rather knowing that when he comes he’s going to mess Eddie up even more, ruin him.

With a cry of Eddie’s name, Steve comes, his eyes slipping shut as he pushes his cock between his legs one more time and spills between them.

A small whimpery, “fuck,” falls from Eddie’s lips as Steve’s cum drips down the inside of his thighs. It takes Steve jerking him once, twice for Eddie to start shaking as his own orgasm washes over him, coming all over the sheets.

Their arms and legs can’t possibly hold them up after that and they both flop gracelessly onto the very dirty mattress, their bodies sticking together with sweat and cum. It’s gross and disgusting— and also kind of perfect.

“God,” Eddie says with a laugh, his face smushed against the bed.

“Yup,” Steve agrees, draped over Eddie’s spine.

“No, like- I think I saw God. I died and I saw God and she said ‘it’s not your time yet, my child, you still need to be fucked by Steve Harrington’ and sent me back.”

Steve snorts at Eddie’s nonsense. “Well, we can’t afford to disappoint God,” he plays along.

“Hm, nope, but she’ll understand that I need some time to recover,” Eddie says, pulling a face, “And a shower, I’m sticky.”

“We both are.”

“Hm, wanna shower together?” Eddie asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve chuckles softly even if the idea sounds enticing. “I thought you said you needed time to recover.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t blow you in the shower,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Christ,” Steve mutters. “As much as I want that, Eds, I don’t think I have another round in me.”

With a little royal twist of his hand, he says, “As His Majesty wishes.”

“Dork,” Steve says fondly. “Um, I do want something though.”

“Hm, what’s that? I told you, Stevie, anything you want.”

Steve keeps his voice only slightly above a whisper, “Can I kiss you?”

As soon as the words are out, Eddie cranes his neck trying to look at Steve and when that doesn’t work, he wiggles under his weight until he can roll over and Steve is lying on top of him. It’s even more gross this way, their fronts pressed together and Eddie’s ass resting on top of the wet spot on the bed, but Steve doesn’t care about any of that. He just wants to know what Eddie’s answer will be.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a bewildered smile. “Of course you can.”

With a smile of his own, Steve props himself up on his arms so his face is hovering over Eddie’s and he can take it in for a minute— the blush high in his cheeks, the way his eyes sparkle with excitement, the way he licks his lips in anticipation.

And then he can’t wait any longer, he swoops down and presses their lips together.

After everything they did today Steve can’t believe that this— his lips sliding against Eddie’s, the slightest hint of tongue, the way they’re both smiling into the kiss— is what has his insides melting into a puddle of goo. Then again, everything else could be excused as a ‘heat of the moment’ kind of thing, but not this.

“Hm, if I knew guys in panties did it for you, Stevie, I would’ve left mine lying around somewhere for you to find much sooner,” Eddie says once the kiss slows down naturally and they’re just resting their foreheads together and breathing each other’s air.

Steve chuckles. “It’s not just about the panties though, it’s, uh, it’s about you. I’d still be into you if I’d found Weird Al boxers in your dresser instead.”

Eddie cackles, his arms wrapping around Steve and trapping him against his chest. They really should clean up before they’re stuck together permanently. “I can’t say I own those but for you, Stevie, I’ll find some.”

“I think I’d prefer if you bought more panties,” Steve teases, his finger playing with the little pink bow just below Eddie’s navel.

“Whatever you want,” Eddie says once again. “I mean it.”

“What if I want you to be my boyfriend?” Steve asks a little shyly.

Eddie plants a sloppy kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Done.”

***

Next time Steve buys panties for Eddie— to make up for the ones he ruined— he brings him along and lets him pick.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” Steve tells him, echoing his words.

Steve knows he’ll like seeing Eddie in anything he picks—

And he’ll like it even more when he can take it off of him.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie smutty september #stranger things #stranger things fic #hi hello sorry i'm late again posting this but it got out of control whoops #eddie munson #steve harrington #monse writes

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actual-changeling · 9 months

Text

A small 'this is how you use tumblr' for the people that haven't been here very long. These are in no particular order, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask them!

Since I probably did not mention a lot of things, you are welcome to add to this post with your own advice.

a) Reblog posts. if you like it, reblog it. even if you have zero followers and ESPECIALLY if it's art or writing of any kind. We will see the reblog in our notifications and that alone brings joy. One reblog can start a chain and push the post onto many people's dashes.

b) Tumblr is not a very functional website, if you want to survive without losing your mind, there are two things you need: xkit rewritten and dashboard unfucker. Play around with the settings until it is to your liking. Additionally, change to firefox if you haven't already and install ublock origin to get rid of ads, tracking etc.

c) If you go to your settings (account! not blog) you can find this under dashboard at the bottom. Turn off at the very least 'best stuff first' since that will fuck up your dash and not give you posts in chronological order.

The rest are a perfonal preference but it will keep your dash tidy and easy to control if you turn them off, too.

d) Apropos settings—get a profile picture, a header, write something human in your bio, anything. Otherwise people will assume you are a bot and block you on sight.

e) Blocking! Do it generously and whenever you want, this is how you keep whatever remains of your sanity. It's not a lethal offense, it is (usually) not even seen as rude or anything along those lines. You block people and they block you and everyone is happy.

f) Under account settings you will find this:

Just like with blocking, use both options to your heart's content.

g) Tumblr is not like other social media platforms, spam liking & reblogging and going three years deep into someone's account is NORMAL and encouraged. You can search a blog by post type, tags, or even go to the archive and scroll through the posts there.

h) Lastly—interaction. We already went over reblogging (I mean it, REBLOG), but there are also replies and asks. If you add something to someone else's post please behave like a kind human being and don't be an asshole; based on my experience, that's easier said than done. On top of that, the tags are ALSO used for communication, go unhinged, ramble, leave your thoughts, or simply use them for organisational purposes. Everyone loves a good insane tag wall.

An open inbox (either anonymously or with your blog attached) is to be used! Please send people asks if they have them active, use it like DMs or a comment section, use it to recommend something, ask questions, participate in an ask or prompt game—we love asks here.

(We do not like harassment in our inboxes, same rules as above.)

#alex yells at the void #tumblr culture #fandom culture #tumblr in a nutshell #how tf do I tag this. anyway #i know a lot of new people followed me after good omens 2 and still are #so this is for y'all!

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lailawinchesterr · 11 days

Text

remedy (vi) — sam winchester

> prev, masterlist

summary: just when you thought things were getting easy between you and sam — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing.

“Why do you have so many nicknames for me?” Sam looks up from his book with a frown, still comprehending your question, and you can’t blame him, it came out nowhere.

It’s only been a few days but you’ve spent the night with each other, though to be fair you’re both mostly studying. You figured it’s a good way to keep him next to you instead of Lily and you’ve always loved study dates. But it hasn’t all been so easy— Jess doesn’t approve of freakin’ Sam Winchester, like, who else would you approve of if not this man?

In other news, Sam has been shutting you down everytime you brought Dean up and you don’t want to push him so he’s been getting away with it even though you can clearly see how bad it’s eating at him.

“What?”

“Nicknames. You use lots of them.”

“Such as? Sweetheart?” He has to know how sensual it is when he says it. He has to.

“You use lots of other ones too. Why?”

“I don’t know, I want to see what fits you and what you like, I guess. Do they bother you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and it might as well have been you calling him a fucking idiot. Hate them? You’ve never been so flustered in your life from one person but every single word out of his mouth makes you want to lean in and kiss him. Which you can technically do.

“Was just wondering.”

“Well, which one do you like best?” He questions with a smirk, he knows how unnerved you get. You’ve gotten plenty of nicknames from other people, but most of them are just your own name twisted around, this is something that’s reserved for… lovers, you guess. Couples? Whatever.

“All of ‘em. They all sound good coming from you.” He raises an eyebrow in question and you shrug, sitting down on the bed next to him, “maybe I like some more than the others. Just a little, though, but I want you to call me whatever you like.”

“Tell me which ones.” It’s the way he doesn’t hesitate that makes you speak up even when everything in your body is begging you not to.

“You know which ones,” it’s a little bit teasing, mostly nerves, but you move closer to him. It seems to be the only position you’re willing to kiss him in, with you on his lap. You really should try to change it up.

“If you don’t tell me which ones I’m gonna have to start calling you honey-pie.” You gasp, a hand on your chest in offense.

“You fucking wouldn’t! Sam, I think I’d actually throw you out.”

“Of my apartment?” You nod absolutely. “Sure you would, baby.” Okay, that’s the one. The one that makes your heart flutter and eyes fall to his lips and makes things jump inside of you. It’s sweet and hot and so so possessive.

“Whatever.” It seemed to be your usual ‘conversation ender’ around Sam. “Anyway, I’m done with studying. Bored. And done.”

“Which one?”

“Bored.” He nods and puts his book on the nightstand, some old classic he’s reading for a literature class, not that you understand why on earth he would increase the work-load on himself, but he does. He loves it apparently, and this one was free, too, so. When he’s done you’re immediately straddling him, smiling down at him and enjoying the fact that this is the only time you’re taller than him.

“What are you doing?” He asks teasingly. You’re about to answer when it hits you all at once. Does he think this is sexual? Surely not, you’ve done it a thousand times (a couple) and you’ve only ever made out. But it is ten at night. Still, so what?

You’re about to shake your head when you feel his lips on yours, unrushed and perfect. The way he’s been doing every time you get in your own head. When he pulls away, you’re chasing after him, basically, “Never anything you don’t want, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, though it comes out a little like a whine, then push him against the headboard again, your lips on his. Sam sucks on your bottom lip, making you squeeze your eyes shut in a silent moan that he swallows.

And then. You’re grinding against Sam, involuntarily. You’ve never done it, never felt like this, never felt so—

“Sam— Sam, wait,” He lets out a small laugh as you push him away. You’re sure your hair’s not obedient at this point and you’re only slightly sweating and off balance, but that’s the least of your worries.

“You want me to wait? You’re the one moving.” He says fairly, lazy and relaxed. It’s a long way from how he panicked everytime you pulled away only a week ago, which is heartwarming considering you’ve also gotten better at holding yourself back. Everything is easier now, less strained. Okay maybe it’s just the making out, everything else is still new and unknown to you.

“I know, I know, just— I’m scared…”

“Hey, come on, I wouldn’t do anything you don’t—”

“That’s not it. I just don’t wanna do it, you know, wrong.” He shakes his head swiftly, sitting up.

“We’ve been doing this for a week and you haven’t messed up once, what makes you think now’s any different. You’re perfect, sweetheart.” He steals the breath from your lungs— not enough to make your worries disappear though.

“Sam,” you pull away, a little breathless, “I didn’t mean, kissing or whatever, I meant. The whole way.”

His eyes widen dramatically, leaning down to whisper, sarcasm lacing his words, “you mean sex?” Like it’s a secret and you roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder.

“Asshole.”

He uses your arm to bring you back in for a kiss, “we already said we’d wait.”

“I don’t know, Sam, there’s been lots of waiting happening, don’t you think?” Even if you’re right (which you are) Sam’s staying true to his word. He said it would happen when it was the right time, when you’re comfortable enough not to be insecure about it (though that’s probably never so…), and when you’re sure it’s something you want to give to him.

Which— seriously? Longest list ever.

He’s about to remind you of his boring list again when— yeah, that’s a window opening. The one in the living room. Okay. This is okay. No big deal, Sam’s here and he probably knows what to do in cases like these… right?

When you look over at him, he’s already carrying you off his lap to get out of bed, shushing you with his finger over his lips silently before opening the door, looking outside. This is some movie—level type shit, right here, you’re not dying because he’s deciding to take it slow.

“Sam—” He shushes you, sternly this time, with the glare and everything. Which freakin’ terrifies you because up till now you were only overreacting in your head, but very calm on the outside, now you’re shaking on the outside too.

He departs the room so you’re alone with a possible killer in the— “Dean!”

Oh thank God.

You let out a breath you were very much holding for dear life before stashing your phone (your finger was on the emergency contact), and opening the door as wide as it goes to greet Dean. Except you get Sammy on the floor, a snappy remark from Dean you can’t hear, then they switch sides.

“Guys… should I leave?” You hesitate, frowning at the pair. Dean look up at you then fucking winks. Sam’s never scrambled off his brother so fast, you’d guess. They’re both off the floor quick, Sam helping Dean to his feet before he saunters to you, that same smirk from the first time glued to his (pretty) face.

“Hey, sweet—”

“Why are you here, Dean.” Sam asks loudly. States loudly? It’s not quiet, that’s for sure.

Dean clicks his tongue with a look that says, ‘I’ll come back to you’, before turning around. He does something, another expression Sam gets with no words and shakes his head, but ultimately nods.

Great. Another silent conversation you’re not apart of. This is getting real good— “Hey,” Sam steps over to you, a hand on your lower back as he leads you back to his room.

Anyone else think this is getting real fucking repetitive?

“Sam, what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving. With Dean, tonight.”

Sam’s room is the exact same from when you two were having your moment, lights turned down low the way you like it, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so romantic. Neither does his docile tone.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you anymore.”

“Beautiful, every part of you.”

“I want to be with you.”

And the best liar’s award goes to…

“Hey, baby,” You give him a look, one that screams ‘are you on fucking drugs right now’, and he shakes his head. “Not— just till next week. I’ll be back before next week, I promise.” Oh.

“You said if you leave you wouldn’t come back.”

“I thought that would be the case but,” he leans closer, his dimples, oh-so-beautiful, with that smile, eyes glinting, “I have something to come back to.”

And you’d be deceiving yourself if you say that it doesn’t calm your heartbeat to hear it. You don’t want to be easy, you want to stand your ground, and tell him there’s no way— but wouldn’t you be as bad as Dean, then? Not letting him do what he craves? Whether it’s law, or being a good brother/son, who are you to dictate that for him? All you have is to be there for him through it.

“And— and we’ll keep in contact?” He agrees feverently, his hands landing on your hips to draw you in.

“No way I’m going to stay for that long and not call you. You said you trust me, right?”

“Right.”

“So trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” He pinched your hips and you let out a yelp, he made sure to capture the moment by stealing a kiss, deepening it immediately. Like he doesn’t want to keep telling you how he feels through words, they’re too little, too underwhelming, not enough to explain what he feels for you.

And you hope, with everything that you fucking are, that that’s what that kiss meant.

When you disconnect, his eyes, if nothing else, serenade you. And you’re sitting on his bed watching him pack with such little disdain, it’s comforting. Even when him and Dean drive you home in the impala, even when you kiss one last perfect time with his promise of next week you’re still composed.

Even when you tell Jess.

“He— what?” She shrieks, her arms crossing in front of her chest. She’s not even angry at him for leaving you. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

“He’s coming back, jess—”

“Yeah well I come back after every summer vacation, still tell everyone I love them before taking off.”

You shrug, partly agreeing with her but honestly? The fact that you got to kiss him seconds before he took off is enough for you to forgive anything else he’s ever done. Except Gen jumps into the conversation, holding up her phone, reading out loud his ‘hey, Gen, I’m out of town for a few days, love you.’

And Jess is freakin’ seething, it’s actually kind of funny. Gen is rapidly regretting her decision to share with the class and is soothing her girlfriend when you get another text. Thankfully your phone’s on silent so it doesn’t alert both girls, but you feel it vibrate and open the message.

Sam: hey.

Sam: Did you tell Gen and Jess?

You: yeah, why?

Sam: because I don’t wanna tell Jess.

Sam: I can imagine how funny she’s being right now that I said bye to the both of you but not her.

Sam: don’t want her to worry though.

You: asshole.

You: in an affectionate way.

Sam: I’ll text you later, baby.

Maybe he should leave more often if he’ll be this tender and caring with you. You take that back. Because you’d still be on his damn bed talking, kissing, maybe even going a little further if Dean fucking Winchester hadn’t interrupted you.

You were talking about something really important, just for him to, what? Break in! Like a lunatic, no less. But you’ve gotten over it already, new problems, new overthinking material.

You’re thankful for the nights with jess and gen, considering you haven’t been close with them these past few days, always with Sam, sleeping over at his, which is surprisingly easy considering you lock yourself in a room of your own after spending half the night on his bed talking or studying.

But thankful, nonetheless. You needed some alone time. And when you wake up Sam sends you a text, just good morning and when you respond it doesn’t go further than that, you don’t mind. You’re glad to know he’s alive everyday till he decides to come back home. Which is why when he calls two days later, you on your stomach with some assignments in front of you, you answer like he’ll hang up in a second if you don’t.

“Sam Winchester. Who would’ve thought, you do know how to use a phone!” It’s a tease, he’s honestly been incredible with keeping you updated, but it’s good to know he meant it when he said he’ll call.

“How’s our favorite doctor?”

“How’s our hotshot lawyer?”

“Good. Better now that I’m talking to you.” He says, exhaling like he just sat down on his bed and you let out a laugh.

“Stupidest thing you’ve ever said. Hands down.”

“Oh, shut up, you love it.” You do. “How’s school?”

“Fine. Jess said you’re missing important classes. How’s Lily taking it, her partner up and leaving?” He doesn’t answer, just groans like she’s been making his life miserable, though you wouldn’t know. Okay maybe you’re a little bitter about him leaving.

“She’s texting non stop, but I get it— just wish she’d believe that I’m out of town. She probably knocked on my apartment door I swear to God.”

“Gen would’ve known.”

“She’s staying at the apartment?” He questions, and you hear— Dean. Dean is in the background, shouting something about a… woman called Constance. And you’re muted. Great. “Sorry,” he says over the static after a long thirty seconds. “Gen, why’s she not over at yours?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t wanna leave the apartment empty, I guess. Jess is over at yours more often than not, though, if that makes you feel any better.”

“So you’re alone.” You shrug, then remember the obvious, and mumble something about studying. This whole call has been dull the second he spoke. There’s something going on, and it has nothing to do with Gen or Jess or the apartment.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” Everytime sam takes a pause before he answers, or say ‘baby’ in that low voice, full of so much emotion, or shakes his head before he’s even spoke a word, your heart drops for a second. First it was age, then experience, then leaving and now— God, whatever this is. The only reason you’re not always assured with sam is because you have to hold your breath in anticipation when he open his mouth.

“It’s nothing, I’m just— this case is taking longer than I thought.”

They’re called cases, now? What has America come to? “Okay, what’s wrong with that? Is it like… too infected?”

He stutters and it forces you to shut your eyes in agony, just stop. Just stop and say what you mean or you might actually throw the phone.

“Yeah, something like that— I gotta stay for another week.” You huff out a breath, sitting up immediately, another week?

“It’s only been two days! How could you possibly know you’ll need to stay another two weeks?” If your voice is slightly raised, it isn’t because you mean for it to be. In fact, you’re trying with everything in your soul to breathe before you speak but he’s making it so difficult. You feel like you’re being… played or— something is going on and it sucks.

“Look it’s connected to another state and we’re—.”

“You’re what? The only exterminators in the country? Sam what the fuck kind of exterminators are that important, huh?” Suddenly, you're no longer concerned about the volume of your voice, “I swear to god, I just— just give me something, anything, sam! Tell me something I can believe. You promised it'll only be a week.”

He says your name like it’ll stop you from lashing out, and you can just imagine him with his head in his hands over the edge of the bed, or sprawled out on it, a palm pressing into his forehead. Either way he’s stressed and any other day you would’ve tried to be there for him, he’s your friend above all else, but he’s lying to you. “I can’t just— it’s a family thing, okay?”

You scoff, already feeling the tear running down your cheek. Whatever. Fine. You weren’t naive enough to think you’re close enough to be considered anything other than his girlfriend, if you were even that. You’ve never had sex, you’ve only been dating for a week, known each other for a month. You know what? Maybe this is going a little too fast. Maybe this is just—

“No, no, stop it. Please. This isn’t it, okay? We can have fights without ending it, right? Right?”

Right. He’s right. He should be right.

Is he right?

“Tell me the truth.”

“I… am. Kind of. We’re not exterminators for the bugs type of thing— more like bears and other wild animals. Wolves.” So. Much. More. Believable.

You’re in Med school for fucks sake, does he think you got there with your good looks? He can’t be for real. “That’s a lie.”

“It isn’t, I swear.”

“Your promise, your swearing, whatever, doesn’t mean that much right now, Sam.” Even with how mad you are, you know that’s not true, he’s always been true to his word, and you get that this was out of his hands, he can’t help it if there’s an extension of the ‘case’. But it’s as low as you can go. “Whatever. You hunt bears, where’s your dad?”

“He’s, I don’t know.” The way he says it, so heavy with exhaustion and worry, even you can tell it’s as truest raw as it can get. “Me and Dean are looking everywhere. He left us this thing, his journal—”

“Journal?”

“He’s old school. Wrote where he’d be next in it, we just want to find him, then I’ll come back, I have to finish the year.”

“Yeah. And your LSATS. They’re in one month starting tomorrow.”

“Yeah… I know.” And for some reason, you feel like a dick for being so assertive. Sam doesn’t sound like himself at all, and sure a part of it was probably from him lying to you, but you can still sense there’s something else. You’re done asking for tonight, though, he doesn’t need questions, he needs comfort. You get that, more than anyone. But one last thing—

“Why the hell would you lie to me about something like that, Sam?” Your question isn't accusatory like most of the conversation was, it’s lighter, and seems to flow between you and Sam easier.

“Didn’t want you to worry. What me and Dean do is dangerous, and we kind of seek out these things to hunt them down— only if they’ve hurt someone.” That’s sweet, no matter how moronic it is. His intentions never were malicious, with you or other people.

“Right. That’s petrifyingly risky.”

“Petri—” He chuckles, “Yeah, Shakespeare, what else?”

You scoff affectionately, “Not the point. Just… honesty, okay? That’s all we have, it’s all I ask.”

You can feel him nodding, and you can feel yourself mirror his actions. You’re not even— you’ve only known him for a month and somehow he’s the only man you’ve ever seen yourself have a future with. How? How does he do this to you? Hypnotize you and pull you in, while still being your safety net. It’s comfortable, it’s passionate and God you’re so into him.

“Yeah, baby, honest. Tell me about your day.” If the grin on your face means anything it’s that you’ve never felt like this before, and you might never again with another man.

Sam: morning.

You: hey, how are you?

‘Mornings’ never usually open up to conversations, just a way of reassurance, but it’s been a couple of days since you’ve last called each other and you’re life’s pretty tame right now, why not initiate the conversation?

Sam: hey, i’m okay, what about you?

You: I’m fine, just studying.

Sam: oh, want me to leave you for a bit?

You: no, no, I’m done already.

You: I wanna talk to you.

You: when are you free?

He usually opts to call at night, between ten and twelve before he has to go to sleep and it’s usually just half an hour, maybe an hour if he’s not too tired. He doesn’t say much about Dean or his Dad but at least you get some of him.

Sam: I can call you tonight.

You: okay, stay safe.

Sam: you too.

But then ‘tonight’ comes and it’s as silent as it was the night before, except last night you didn’t have a promise of a call. And you’re not even mad, you’re just worried— not worried enough to throw your dignity to the floor and call or text him yourself— but still pretty worried.

It’s only eleven, maybe he’ll call later?

He won’t. He doesn’t. But he texts good morning. The next damn day there’s a ‘good morning’ text right under your previous texts making plans to call.

So, like the petty person you are, because that is one trait you are not afraid to let shine, you don’t text back. You have classes all day, anyways, and it’s the last day before the long weekend, so it’s busy enough as it is without having to talk to Sam. Which you don’t have to worry about because he doesn’t want to talk to you anyways.

Except when he decides to talk to you. Except when he decides to text you at ten at night two days later, after not getting a response from you;

Sam: can we talk?

part seven: all my habits came back around.

title: it’s ok, I’m ok by tate mcrae — (baby, don’t get it twisted)

can you tell I wouldn’t die in a horror movie with her finger on the emergency contact? one thing about me is I will not write a horror movie bitch no matter what the plot is, she will be calling the police/her mum the second there’s a sound‼️‼️

I’ll make a master list for remedy since I think there 2 chapters left maybe. this one is pretty cute to prepare you for the next one which is just angst at its finest. THEN THE LAST CHAPTER WHAT. okay I won’t get too excited since I’m not sure when I’ll be posting them yet but I hope you enjoyed this.

and I’ll fix the format for the rest of the chapters so that they’re like this one since this is the one I decided on. If u wanna be tagged comment or send me a message!!

tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97 @tranquilitybasegrunge

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sammy #Stanford Sam Winchester #stanford sam #laila writes!!

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gracieheartspedro · 1 year

Text

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: after your first encounter, joel turns into an asshole every time you're around. when tommy makes you two go out on patrol together, it turns into a muddled mess. turns out, he didn't hate you at all, he just sucks at emotions.

Part 2/3

FIND PART 1 HERE

PART 2 HERE

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, killing of infected (including a child), blood, some LIGHT gore, age gap (more specified in this part), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names, joel is still a menace to society and a jerk

Author's Note: Thank you thank you thank you!! you all are so fabulous and sweet. I'm gonna make a masterlist soon, so be on the lookout. I'm also starting a tag list so, if you want to be included, please let me know! All feedback is welcomed. I love you all sm.

I came prepared for absolution if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Joel on more of your patrols.

The patrols after your night together ended up being filled with unspoken sexual tension. You’d go home sexually frustrated and hungry for more, but you were never bold enough to make a move. And to be real, you weren’t sure if you should. He’d say something about keeping your shoulders straight when you shot, you’d say something stupid like “make me” and he’d spit back with, “I may just do that, girl.”

But it never went anywhere.

Even if you tried to make a pass, he’d make an excuse or remind you that you two were strictly working at the moment.

You once invited him over after a particularly long shift, wanting some relief from the ache between your thighs.

“Got things to get done at home,” He said, “Maybe another time.”

So after that week of patrols, you were suddenly never on his patrols again. You were put on the exact opposite shifts, actually. You had some sneaking suspicions that he asked Tommy to switch it up. He stopped looking at you during morning meetings and eventually you decided to drop the whole idea of him.

It still crossed your mind every time you saw him, though. How he felt on your lips. How his body felt connected with yours.

Your breathing would change every time you reminisced on your time together. He would consume your mind for brief periods and you couldn’t get away. You kept telling yourself that time would lessen the blow, but it never did.

So you tried your best to forget.

On one particularly chilly morning, you head to your scheduled time at the stables. You’d be going out with Jesse this time around. He was a newcomer, a real sweetie. Tommy wanted you to teach him all you knew about patrolling and securing certain areas.

But when you arrive, you notice Tommy, Joel, and Jesse all standing around waiting. You hadn’t said much to Joel the last couple weeks, only a wave or a quiet mumbled hello. His back was turned to you, but you knew those shoulders and back all too well.

“Are we all going out this morning?” You question, adjusting your braid on your shoulder. Joel turns to you, not expecting your voice to come up behind him. His eyebrows furrow at your presence.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy smiles, “You and Joel are gonna be going up to the ski lodge. Heard there’s a hoard or two out there, they need to be cleared.”

“I thought you said I was going with Jesse?” Joel speaks up a bit too quickly. Tommy’s words caught you off guard, so you just stand there waiting for him to respond to Joel, but it never comes.

You swallow, clearing your throat.

“No, I was supposed to go out with Jesse, actually.”

Jesse looks at everyone confused.

He was a cute kid. 20 years young, fresh faced, ready to take on anything. He had all this energy, something you wish you still had. Now you had a bad back, fucked knees, and a terrible sleeping schedule. You were only about 10 years older than him and you’re falling apart.

“We can all just go together?” Jesse offers, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. You knew that’d be shot down quick, especially when it came to a newbie. If there’s infected, we never throw the new guys into the pits of hell. They’d never want to patrol again.

Tommy shakes his head, “No, I want her and Joel to clear that area before I take you that route. They know it well. We are going to head towards the power plant. We have to bring back some supplies I have stored there.”

Joel’s eyes could laser Tommy in half at that moment. He was pissed and completely blindsided.

You surrendered to the idea, too tired to argue and fight about something so stupid. You also didn’t question their orders, simply because they knew better than you. You wanted to make sure Jackson was safe, just like everyone else.

You gesture Jesse to give the brothers some time alone, motioning towards the horses. You’d at least make sure the horses were ready for his trip out with Tommy. He grabs the reins of two horses, walking them outside towards the front gate. You grab the other two horses, doing the same thing.

He took notice to your tired eyes, “You okay going out today? You look tired.”

“Wow, Jesse,” You laugh, “I thought I looked great this morning when I woke up.”

He instantly starts to backpedal, not picking up your joke. You shake your head, trying to talk over all his apologies.

“I’m just messin’ Jesse. I am tired, but I’ll be okay, don’t you worry.”

He smiles, nudging your shoulder a bit.

“You just gave me a heart attack,” He chuckles, “You sure though? Even with Joel?”

You glance over at the Millers, watching them argue about whatever Joel was truly mad about. You knew in your head it was because he didn’t want to be around you. The feeling was becoming mutual. You never wanted to make anything awkward or difficult, but you guess that’s exactly what you did.

You just shrug. Jesse takes that as your response, grabbing the reins of your horse and handing them over to you.

“You stay safe out there,” He says, “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You couldn’t help but snicker, “No need to worry about that, dude.”

–

Oh, but was he getting under your skin.

You initially just nod at every direction he makes at you, remembering that it was like this before anyway. But then he starts to undermine every suggestion you made.

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“We will be back before sundown, you know that. Don’t be dumb about it.”

“Stoppin’ would be dumb as hell. You can wait.”

You had been begging for 30 minutes to stop and pee. He was not giving in to anything you’d say. After awhile, you could not hold it anymore. You pull your horse to the side of the trail, not even saying anything to him. You dismount the horse, holding the reins for a moment before you hang them on a branch nearby.

“What are you doin’?” He spits, noticing you off your horse. You come around the horse, giving him a deadly glare. You grab your pack, finding some cloths you bring on your patrols so you can wipe and throw away.

“I have to fuckin’ pee, Joel. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Get back on your horse,” He demands, his posture getting more stiff.

You shake your head, unbuttoning your jeans and turning back to a private area behind a tree. You remember the moments before kissing Joel for the first time. Him telling you how great your ass looked in your jeans. You grimace.

You tug down your pants and squat.

You relieve yourself, quickly using your cloth to wipe when you finish. You toss it behind you, standing up in your spot and turning around to head back to your horse.

You realize Joel is off his horse, bounding towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling you to face him.

“Why don’t you fuckin’ listen?” He says through gritted teeth.

It took everything in you not to fucking snap. You wanted to pull away and scream and yell and throw something at him. But instead your heart just started racing at the contact his hand made with your skin and you physically couldn’t do anything.

He realizes you’re caught off guard. He didn’t grab you hard, just enough shake you a bit to get your attention on him and only him. His facial expression changes as he drops your arm, stepping back a couple of paces. It’s like he realized he was being a bit too aggressive. Maybe it was your expression that brought him back down from whatever pedestal he thought he was on.

“Don’t touch me,” Is all you could think to say. He wasn’t even touching you anymore but you still felt him all over you.

He just nods.

You look down at yourself, realizing your pants are still unbuttoned. You look back up at Joel who’s staring at your panties peaking through your unzipped jeans. His eyes travel back up to yours. You decide to slowly button them back up.

You don’t hear what he says when he peels his eyes away and walks back to his horse. Probably some asshole comment that was better said under his breath.

You both get back on your horses and continue to the ski lodge in silence. Before you scale the one side of the mountain, you hear something.

You keep your eyes peeled for infected. You are almost positive that’s what you’re hearing so you whistle to catch Joel’s attention. You nod to your left, which is the direction you hear the familiar clicking. You grab your rifle from your side saddle, gesturing to Joel to do the same.

You always get this rush when you have to kill infected. It’s not a good rush at all, it’s pure adrenaline.

You dismount again, making sure your horse is tied to a nearby tree. Joel is close behind you as you creep forward towards the noise. The woods are dense with trees but there is also a ton of rock formations that were usually excellent cover.

The clicking gets louder and so does the sound of your heartbeat.

“There,” Joel whispers, gesturing towards a rock. You kneel, creeping up the formation and looking down. There you see not one, not two, but three clickers wondering around a dead deer. It was torn to shreds, blood everywhere. You weren’t bothered by blood at all, it was just the sick smell of decay that got you a bit queasy. You draw your gun up, aiming it towards the clicker closest to you.

“On three,” You murmur to Joel. You knew that you’d had to shoot two at the same time to give you enough time to kill the third with a quick reload.

Joel just nods, drawing his gun up.

“One,” Breath in, “Two,” Hold, “Three” Breath out.

The sounds of guns sent the clicking sounds to an all time high. Your ears are ringing, but you instinctively cock your gun, releasing one shell.

You aim, firing your weapon at the third and final clicker. You hear Joel yell something, but your ears are still ringing.

Then it hits you.

“Three more!”

Every time you’re in a fight or flight situation, you always fight. Old you would run.

You bring your weapon up, noticing Joel’s new position on the boulder. He’s aiming and firing at some infected down hill who are quickly running at you two.

You refocus in searching the area behind you. The last thing you needed was a sneak attack from a stalker. One enters your eye line and you fire. You keep count of how many bullets you have. Three down, four more left.

“Got two on your right!”

You hear Joel’s directions, drawing your weapon up and shooting another stalker between the eyes. The last one was a child, which was always the hardest. You knew that there was no choice, so you pull the trigger, which sent the child flying backwards. You wince a bit, seeing that this was probably just a family who got caught in the wrong situation. You killed all of them in less than a minute. Life wasted.

Silence fills the air, your ears still ringing from endless gunfire. You turn back to Joel who’s breathing heavily and holstering his gun.

You never had to question Joel’s abilities, which made him an excellent patrol partner. He knew exactly how to react in high risk situations.

He made you feel safe.

“Looks like we found one of the hoards Tommy was talking about,” He says, walking up to you, “Lets hope it’s just the one.”

“Glad it was you with me and not Jesse,” You say, relaxing your arm.

“That kid would be dead by now.”

When you’re less than a mile from your stop, you notice some storm clouds taking over the beautiful summer sky. The air starts to change. The wind begins to pick up, blowing your braid back and tickling your bare neck. The air smells like rainwater, sweet and pungent.

You use the silence to think about how simple life use to be. You reminisce about your childhood that was cut too short. You were a young adult when the infection started so you hadn’t been able to get married or settle down with a family. Everything was ripped away from you so prematurely and deep down, you crave that simplicity. Get married, have children, die of old age.

If only you could’ve lived in a world where you didn’t have to kill a child because some random ass fungus took over their humanity.

“We are almost there,” Joel says finally, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We may have to ride out the storm.”

You just nod even though he can’t see you.

The ski lodge was actually very beautiful. It was one of two that was used as a safe house for patrols, this one being your personal favorite. You had been there with Tommy once and he gave you the grand tour. It was reasonably clean for being so old, stocked full of canned items, and had very comfy beds.

You start to bring your horses to the covered back porch when it starts to rain. You grab all your gear, slinging it over your shoulder. Joel jingles a key out of his pocket, racing to the sliding glass doors. He unlocks the door, ripping it open as soon as the rain picks up. You both make it in the quiet lodge, setting your belongings on the kitchen counter.

“I’m going to get the lanterns up and running,” You mumble, heading towards the living room where all the lanterns were scattered about. Joel locks the sliding glass door, before he starts rummaging through his bag.

You turn on as many lanterns as you can, lighting up the room with warm glow.

You find your way onto one of the couches, kicking your boots off.

“Want me to start a fire? We may have to hang out the rest of the night if that storm don’t let up,” Joel questions, sliding his jacket off his shoulders.

You shrug, “Don’t matter.”

He starts to pile up some wood as you find an apple in your bag. You watch him slowly pace back and forth from the wood pile to the huge stone fireplace. You watch his back muscles flex when he picks up a piece of wood. You were using him as a distraction to get you away from those dark thoughts from earlier.

You bite into your apple.

“You bring anythin’ for me?”

Is he fucking with you?

“There’s canned peaches in the cabinets.”

He laughs, lighting the wood with a match. You watch the fire build and build as he messes with the wood. He was squatting, his shirt riding up a bit. Even his lower back was eye catching.

“You don’t wanna share?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not sharin’ anything with you.”

He turns back to you with a smirk playing on his lips, “Not even a better look at those panties you’re wearing?”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.”

You did hear him, of course, but were in denial of the actual intentions behind the words. He creeps closer, finding a spot on the couch next to you. You take another bite of your apple, staring at him with curiosity.

Was he being serious?

You contemplate your options. Do you play into the game? Do you resist and possibly regret it later? He was such an asshole earlier. But then again, he always is. He was before you slept with him. So was that a valid excuse to not play into the game?

You remember the ache between your legs last night after reading a smutty romance novel. You imagined the characters as you and Joel, yet you never wanted to admit it. You knew that you wanted this, but resisting to give him a taste of his own medicine would be satisfying, too.

“Ya know,” He ponders, leaning over to meet your eyes, “I still have your other pair you left at my house.”

You remember the slight panic you felt the morning after when you couldn’t find them. You knew damn well he’d find them somewhere, but you didn’t think he’d keep them.

“Didn’t even know I left them,” You lie, your eyes averting away from him.

You were a horrible liar.

“You’re pretty cute when you lie, sweetheart,” He grabs your chin, tilting your face back to his, “You left them on purpose. Thought you’d use that as an excuse to come crawling back to me.”

He was being smug, you knew that. For some reason, you don’t cave immediately even though the conversation was making you tingle.

“Crawling back to you? Why would I do that?” You question, “When I have all these other guys who will gladly take up my offers.”

He smiles smugly, “Hm, that doesn’t seem very like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to whore yourself out to a bunch of assholes.”

His finger traces your lower lip, catching it and pulling down. You don’t pull away, soaking up the intense tension in the air.

“You don’t know me, Joel Miller.”

He just stares at your mouth, “I know enough.”

You want to lean in further, push your lips on his and finally surrender to him. But you hold on for a few more seconds. You’re practically quivering under his touch, wanting nothing more to just cut the shit and jump on top of him.

“You told me not to touch you earlier,” he mumbles, “But here you are just fumblin’ over yourself every time I touch ‘ya.”

“Will you just shut the fuck up and kiss me?”

His touch becomes rougher, his one arm pulling you into his lap, the other hand grabbing your face roughly.

“You start talkin’ like that you get nothin’,” his breathing fans your face, blowing your baby hairs away from your forehead, “Be a good girl like before.”

You squirm a bit, trying to lift your head in defiance. It doesn’t work, he has a good grip on you. His eyes are dark as he adjusts you so you are practically mounted on his lap. He releases your face bringing his hand down to your neck. He pulls you down to his lips, connecting them feverishly.

You couldn’t help yourself. You melt into him, your hands wrapping around his neck before sliding them down his chest. His hips are practically rutting into yours. You grind down, moaning out at the contact. You knew that being disobedient wouldn’t get you anywhere, so to get what you want, you knew you’d have to play into his dominance.

He smiles into the kiss, knowing you have been waiting for this moment.

You pull away, pulling your shirt off. He’s looking at you like you’re his next meal. You kind of are.

“Missed these tits,” He says his hands resting on your ribcage, right under your bare breasts, “Best ones I’ve ever seen.”

“Joel,” You groan, fumbling for the button on your pants, “Need you. Bad.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know baby.”

He fondles you for a second before latching his lips around your left nipple. His tongue swirls around it before he slightly bites it. You arch your back, wanting more from him but he just pulls away. You roll off his lap, tugging your pants down, including your underwear.

“Ah,” He’s not even paying attention to you butt naked all spread for him, instead he’s leaning down to your pile of clothes. He grabs your panties, holding them up, “Baby pink. You fuckin’ tease.”

“Joel,” You whine, nudging him with your foot, “Enough about my underwear.”

He runs his hands up your leg before standing up and discarding his own shirt and pants. He leaves his briefs on, his cock tenting the gray fabric.

“So eager,” he mocks, “What do you want from me, baby girl? Hm?”

You smile at the million of thoughts running through your head. But you settle for words that you know will drive him wild.

“Do whatever you want to me, Joel.”

He pulls you to the edge of the couch. He’s on his knees like he’s about to pray at the altar to whatever God may exist. Instead, he’s between your legs, speckling your thighs with scratchy kisses. His salt and pepper hair is messy, his sunkissed bare arms highlighted with some freckles. You never noticed them before.

“‘M gonna need your mouth,” He mumbles, raising his fingers to your mouth. You grab his wrist with your hands, lifting his fingers to your lips. You suck on every one, releasing each one with a pop. He watches you with his lips slightly agape, almost hypnotized by the action.

He uses his newly wet fingers to trace your slit before he uses his pointer and middle finger to spread your lips. He’s playing with you, making you writhe underneath his touch. You lift your hips a bit, which causes him to lay his free arm across your lower stomach.

“Patience, sweetheart,” He gives your pussy one lick, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

He’s good on his word.

He dives into you like a ravenous animal. His tongue hitting every desperate spot within you. You were taken to the same state of mind when he first ate you out. You had no words, just moans of pleasure.

He uses his fingers to toy with your opening, sticking two fingers in initially before he becomes too eager to see you fall apart. He wraps his lips around your swollen clit, suckling and moaning around it. You knew from before that he liked all eyes on him. You watch him as the vibrations mixed with him finger fucking you sends you into your first eye rolling orgasm.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life. It’s a release you’ve been yearning months for, making it even sweeter.

He pulls away, giving your pussy a little slap. It makes you yell out.

“Came without permission, but that’s okay,” He licks his fingers, “You have a couple more in you. You just gotta beg extra for ‘em.”

He was a menace.

You just nod, not able to communicate your actual feelings on him denying you the simple pleasure of cumming all over him. The idea of having to hold back made you a bit eager to see how far you could take it, though.

“Need your mouth now,” He tugs off his underwear, kicking them across the room. You don’t know how, but it almost looks bigger. Maybe it’s the swollen red tip that makes you overawe over it.

“Would you like me on my knees, sir?”

He leers at you, “What a good girl, being so polite… Yes, baby girl, get on your knees in front of me. I wanna see those eyes.”

You crawl off the couch, getting in between his legs. His cock is laying on his lower tummy, just waiting for you. You aren’t super into sucking dick, but this was Joel’s. You know that you had to give it your all. You wanted to give it your all.

You grab ahold of the base of his cock, keeping your eyes on him as you slowly open your lips to take him. Once your hot mouth touches the tip, he hisses in satisfaction.

“Mhm,” He groans, “Take all of it, baby.”

You’re not sure if you can, but you are going to do your very best.

You relax your throat as much as you can, slowly inching his cock down your throat. You’re halfway around it when it hits your gag reflex. You pull back, still keeping his cock wrapped around your lips. You sit up, jerking the base of his cock as you slurp up as much as you can.

“You got it baby,” He encourages, “Relax and take it slow.”

Whenever Joel praises you, you can’t help but let it get to your head.

You take a deep breath in as you take more of him in. Widening your jaw more, you finally get him completely engulfed in your mouth. He twitches inside, which sends a jolt of pleasure to your core. You let him take control, raising his hips a bit to fuck your mouth. He has a hold of your braid, which only adds to the experience. You’ve never had your hair pulled before, but you’re beginning to love the sensation. He’s a moaning mess, chanting your name like a prayer. Your saliva is all over his lower tummy by the time he pulls your mouth away from his cock.

“Gonna make me cum like that if you keep goin’,” He states, pulling you up to his lips. He kisses you, all tongue and teeth, “Let me fuck that pussy, yeah?”

You whimper, “Yes, please.”

“Such a good girl.”

He pulls you up into his lap while you slowly position yourself above him. You loved riding him before and with how sensitive and riled up you were now, you were prepared to ride his cock like it’s the last thing you’d ever do.

He focused his attention on rubbing his cock head between your pussy lips. You bite your lip as soon as he pushes slowly into your entrance. You groan, letting the sweet stretch take ahold of you.

“Atta’ girl,” Joel sighs, “Take all of me in that tight little pussy.”

You gasp as soon as he raises your hips a bit, repositioning how his cock sits inside you. His hand rests on your pelvic bone, pulling you forward. You realize he’s guiding you, helping you grind back and forth on his dick. Every roll of your hips pushes a moan out your throat, making Joel stare up at you with satisfaction. He removes his hands from your hips, bringing his right hand to your throat.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby girl,” He lets out a wanton moan, while your stomach feels like it’s reaching a boiling point. He realizes how tense your getting so he reaches down with his spare hand, putting more pressure on your clit. “This is my pussy.”

“Mhm.”

“Say it. Say it’s mine.”

“It’s yours, Joel.”

“That’s fuckin’ right, baby girl. All mine.”

“Joel, please,” You cry, “I need to cum.”

“No,” He spits, “You don’t cum until I tell you.”

You clench, trying to resist the release. He notices you slowing down, so he stops choking you. Instead of letting you have a moment to recoup, he grabs your waist again, raising it slightly so he could raise his hips to pound into you. With his fingers still pressing on your bud, he chooses a bruising pace. You are practically screaming, the release imminent.

“Please, please,” You beg, “Joel, I need to.”

He doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy, “You keep beggin’, baby girl. I’ll tell you when.”

“Fuck, fuck,” You can’t stop yourself, the vibration from your incoming orgasm taking over your body, “Please Joel!”

“Cum,” He grits his teeth, “Cum all over this cock, baby girl.”

You have never had an orgasm take over every fiber of your being like it. You throw your head back, yelling Joel’s into the silence of the house. His pace slows down, as your cum soaks his lower half.

“Oh my god,” You groan, not knowing how to formulate a full sentence yet. You were still seeing stars in your vision, as you try to refocus on Joel.

“Holy shit,” He pulls out of you, “You okay?”

You just nod, your head falling forward. Your braid falls over your chest in between your breasts. Joel grabs the end of it, toying with it for a moment while you catch your breath.

“I’ll give you a minute,” He picks you up off him, laying you onto the cushion next to him. You grab his hand as he tries to pull away.

“I don’t need one,” You were still spent from the first two orgasms, it was written all over your face. Joel just chuckles, positioning himself over your body. He cages you in, tilting your face so you make eye contact.

“You ready for me already?”

“Need you.”

He uses his leg to part your thighs, settling between you again. He was still hard, his cock nudging your swollen wet opening.

“I want your eyes on me,” He commands.

“Yes, sir.”

He pushes into you again, your mouth parting in a gasp at how sensitive you were.

He smiles at your reaction while he settles into a steady pace. You try to focus on him, watching his facial expressions as he dives into you over and over again.

Joel had to be sculpted by whatever God created him. Every part of him was angular, his cheekbones quite high. His nose was just about perfect, especially from the side. His side profile was everything.

You truly didn’t think he looked his age. The only thing that kind of gave him away was the grays speckled through his dark hair. Other than that, the guy was a sex god.

You are too busy to admiring him, you don’t even realize how close he is. He’s gripping onto your hips, probably bruising them with how tightly he’s holding them. The way his dick twitches inside you, sends that familiar rush back into your body.

He’s not breaking eye contact. You smirk while he groans pushing harder into you.

“You better cum inside me,” You murmur, “Want you to fill me up.”

“God,” He cries, “So fucking flithy.”

And he loved that about you.

He releases into you with a loud sigh. You don’t teeter over that edge until he pulls out of you, looking to see his work.

He uses his two fingers, pushing them inside you, then back out. He rubs his cum onto your clit, slapping it a couple times. When you jolt in pleasure, he smiles knowingly.

“One more time?”

He positions himself between your legs again. He’s fingering you so lazily but it’s still enough to have you crying out in pleasure. You don’t even have time to respond to him, before you’re falling over the edge and cumming once more.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath again. Joel stands up on wobbly legs, making his way to the nearby bathroom. You didn’t know if this house would be stocked with rags or anything, so when Joel comes out with a folded blanket, you can’t help but giggle.

“This is all we got,” He gestures towards the blanket, “We can burn it when we finish with it.”

You take it from him, running it between your legs. The wooley fabric scratched a bit, but you didn’t have one care in the world.

Until you get a familiar sinking feeling. Like you did something very wrong.

You sit up while Joel takes the blanket, cleaning up himself. You try to stand, your legs feeling like jelly. You pick up your panties from the floor next to Joel’s clothes. You start to grab each of your clothing items, throwing them on as you go. You watch as he does the same.

“I guess this means you don’t hate me,” You mutter, not knowing what to say after what just occurred. You felt guilty and sick with anxiety.

If anyone else sat in on this day with Joel, they’d say the same thing. The way he talks to you, how annoyed he was to be stuck with you on patrol today, everything. It’d make anyone feel not wanted.

He shoots you a glance, “I never hated you.”

He says it with such conviction that you wince, not sure whether to believe him.

“You have ignored me for months. You fought with Tommy because you were stuck with me today. And then on the way here, you yelled at me for having to pee. Called me dum-”

“I didn’t call you dumb.”

You breath in sharply, “You’re just impossible, you know that?”

He shakes his head. You know he wants to say something smart back, but it never comes.

Instead he sits down beside you, keeping his eyes down at his feet. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a lifetime.

“Listen,” He huffs, “I don’t hate you. I am just not good at…”

“Being nice to people?”

He smirks, finally looking up at you, “Sure, but hey… I don’t regret anything that happened. I enjoy our… time together.”

You wanted to strangle him.

After months of contemplating what went wrong, he tells you he doesn’t regret anything.

After spending all that time acting like he did.

You wear your emotions all over your face and Joel realizes it quickly. He rests his hand on your knee, a gentle gesture that makes your heart rate increase by a thousand.

“You made me feel like shit for months,” You admit, trying to hold your composure, “I’ve felt like an idiot since the moment Ellie walked in that morning. You made me feel that way, Joel. You made me feel stupid. And here I am, all this time later, and I still feel fucking dumb. Maybe even dumber now, since I just let you fuck me again.”

His hand travels up to cup your cheek. You felt like crying, but you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, darlin’,” He confesses, “I am sorry for everythin’.”

You felt like you were being manipulated. You always had a terrible time figuring out what a genuine apology looked like. You were used to being exploited and having your heart ripped out and stomped on.

You turn away from his hand, looking out the back sliding glass door. The rain is coming down, pitter pattering on the tin roof over your head. You see lightning go across the sky, hearing the loud crack of thunder seconds later.

You pondered if you should just run in the other direction. Away from Joel, away from the emotions and memories that were being sludged up from the deepest pits of your brain.

“When I grabbed you earlier, you had this horrified look on your face…” Joel starts, bringing your attention back, “It was a face ‘d seen more than a few times. That look of disbelief and fear.”

You just let him continue, not looking him the eyes.

“I never wanna to make you feel that way,” He admits, “I never wanna scare you or hurt you. I knew in that moment, I was using that pent up anger at myself towards you.I just… I spent so much time tryin’ to find ways to keep you away from me because I don’t wanna disappoint you or hold you back.”

You finally look back up at him.

“I am sick of findin’ ways to keep you away. I like havin’ you around.”

You want to believe him so badly.

“I like having you around, too, Joel. I just…” You stammer, “I just need a bit, okay?”

He bows his head, “Yeah, ‘course. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll take watch and wait for the rain to let up.”

You take up his offer, stalking off to the nearby bedroom. You just wanted space, a moment of peace and quiet. Your body was still recovering from the greatest orgasms of your life, now your mind is littered with a million emotions you didn’t know how to muddle through. Once you lay down on the old bed, you realize that sleep would probably bring you back to life a bit. You close your eyes, letting your mind ease out of the chaos of reality.

–

When you wake up, you don’t hear anymore rain. You only hear the crackling of the fireplace. You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping, which sends you into a slight panic. You waltz out into the living room, seeing Joel lounging on the couch you defiled and reading. It was a random novel, probably from the large bookcase in the hallway.

“We good to head back?” You question.

“Yeah, let’s get home ‘fore they send out a search party.”

You watch him stretch his shoulders as he stands, his jaw clenched in an unrelaxed way. His hair is messy and standing in different directions from the way he was laying. It makes you smile.

“Hey Joel,” You say, walking closer to him, “When we get back to Jackson, would you want to go out to dinner or something?”

His gaze softens. You were really trying, he could tell.

Your rested mind decided it was time to just jump head first.

If Joel was being honest with his intentions, maybe it was time for you to be honest with yourself, too.

“I’d like that, sweetheart.”

“It’s a date, then.”

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #cool about it #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller x reader smut #gracielovespedro

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artstatues · 4 months

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Jealousy, jealousy. - m.r × reader.

wc : 573

pairings : mattheo riddle x fem! reader, from the harry potter fanbase/fandom.

synopsis : cedric diggory took you out on a date to three broomsticks, unknowingly causing a particular slytherin to get jealous.

warnings :

a/n : short? yes. cringy? kinda. anyways, giving me flashbacks. but pansy in this fic, or in any of my slytherin works, is alice pagani pansy, not hp pansy parkinson cz that pansy's a bitch. reader is an absolute bitch and no this was not proofread

taglist : @never-enough-novels, @urbanflorals, @kozumesphone, @reyna-obsessed, @off-to-the-r4ces, @mqstermindswift ( ik u didnt do the form nor ask but i feel like you'd want to be tagged )

Cedric Diggory had just dropped you off to the Slytherin common room. He asked on a date a week ago, and you had to keep rescheduling it because of your studies and other plans. You never liked the guy anyway, you are just being nice. Your friends; Pansy, Theo and Mattheo were all in the common room, a bottle of beer in each one’s hands. “How was the date?” Pansy sat up while offering you a bottle. “Thanks.” You muttered before sitting down next to her. “It was okay, eh.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “Softie.” Theo rolled his eyes from the couch across. “He’s been asking me the whole week-! What was I supposed to do?” You exclaimed exaggeratedly. “Beat him up.” Mattheo suggested with a tilt of his head, earning a chuckle from Theo. “Where’d Blaise go?” He was here when you left, everyone was here, actually. “Hogsmeade with Malfoy.” Pansy explained next to you. Off to a bookstore, then. You guessed. Theo chugged the rest of his drink before announcing his leave to his dorm room. Mattheo’s been quiet since his remark, previously, you observed. You snuck a quick glance at him. His eyes on you, the beer still in his hands, his eyebrows knitted. According to Pansy, you didn’t just sneak a glance, causing her to get up and down her drink before saying, “I’m leaving, weird ass tension happening here.” And with that she left. “Thoughts on my date?” You inquired Mattheo while fixing your posture and taking another sip at your drink. He scoffed in response. “Okay-” You rolled your eyes. You could feel his eyes following your movements. “Jealous then, Riddle?” You mocked with a lazy smirk on your face. “Maybe.” He shrugged, finishing his bottle of beer. You laughed, like literally laughed, earning a glare from him. “Anything funny?” He spat. “Quite so, really. You being jealous of Diggory is comedic to me.” You grinned teasingly. “Yeah, maybe I am jealous over the fact that you go out with all the boys that’s walked in this school.” Mattheo remarked, rather acidic. “Said who?” Your tone changed, and clearly not for the better. “I don’t know! Ask around, I’m sure they’d agree. I know Nott agrees.” He snapped. You were actually taken aback by him. Something was wrong with him and you had no idea what that could be. It wasn’t the alcohol, definitely. He’s only had 1 bottle– actually. You didn’t know if that was his first bottle or not. “Are you okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows, you were actually concerned, for him and yourself. “Was that supposed to be offensive? Either way, I’m not.” He jeered. “And why’s that?” You questioned further. “You.” His eyes locked with yours, and funnily, it was actually intimidating. “Hm?” You quipped. You were definitely pissing him off. Ha. “Stop it. Stop. I’m fucking serious, stop. Don’t, really don’t. I think- no– wait, I know, that I’m in love with you and yes I was fucking jealous over that stupid Hufflepuff, but don’t– just don’t. Don’t tempt me, don’t tease me, please don’t.” He snapped, like, full on snapped, but he tried keeping his volume down since it was the Slytherin common room, where all gossip begins. He sounded desperate. Which you thought was quite pathetic. “Ah! You’re in love with me!” You sarcastically exclaimed, causing him to slam his bottle on the table before leaving.

#mattheo riddle #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #harry potter #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #my work

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serqphites · 1 year

Text

YELLOW JACKETS HEADCANONS | them being jealous

summary: they notice you getting a little too close to another one of the girls, this is how i think they would react to the feelings and emotions that would tag along with it

pairings: nat, misty, taissa, shauna, vanessa, lottie x afab wlw reader

format: headcanons

warning: jealousy, swearing?, suggestive ig

lowercase intended! not proofread! y/n used!

natalie

- stops speaking to you

- starts going hunting without you

- when you would hunt together she’d ignore you

- gets mad if you talk abt whoever she’s jealous over

- you’ll eventually ask her while you’re out why she’s being so weird with you

- she shouts at you

- you shout back

- “what so you’re mad you’re not the only person i talk to???”

- “no i’m mad because i’m not your fucking person!”

- your argument turns into a love confession on her part

- she starts crying

- she gets really embarrassed and runs back to the cabin

misty

- would be BEYOND upset

- she’d think that she had done something wrong

- overthinking it way too much

- was she not good enough for you? even after everything she’s done for you?

- would go a little crazy ngl

- she would confront them and basically interrogate them

- would ask things like “what are your intentions with them?” and stuff like that

- coincidentally after that she wouldn’t see them near you anymore

- i’m fact they’d always make sure they are as far away as possible from either of you

- you literally have no idea what happened you just assumed you two just drifted

- yayyy misty wins again!!

taissa

- she’s been watching you from afar ever since you joined the team

- she’s scared to be openly gay, would people resent her? would they even care the she likes women?

- she’s actually been making an effort to talk to you as much as she can

- whenever shauna was the one giving out the cards for the chores that day she’d beg her to make sure she saved her the closest one to you

- however when you start spending a lot of your time with van, everything changes

- van is openly gay, just like you are

- is it offensive of her to assume you’re dating just because you’re both gay?

- whenever she would speak to you she’d ask about van

- “we’re just friends tai, i swear”

- “sure you are” she’d laugh it off as if she wasn’t genuinely trying to figure out what was going on between you two

- one day tai is out getting water and when she turns around to head back you’re just standing there

- you very quickly explain that you have feelings for her and that’s why you’ve been with van so much because you’ve been trying to figure out how to deal with them

- she drops the bucket of water and pulls you in for a quick yet passionate kiss

- “take it you feel the same?”

shauna

- she’d be so jealous

- my god you better watch your back

- she’s so scary

- the glares she’d give you both when you’re talking? lethal.

- the things she’d write about the person she’s jealous over in her journal? vile.

- she would be really quiet and weird around you

- it would make you very uncomfortable

- one day she puts her journal away and doesn’t balance it properly on the wooden beam

- it falls sometime after she’s left the attic and you just so happen to stumble across it while searching for her

- you stare down in shock at the cruel things she’s been writing about someone who was only considered a friend to you

- you are that into the journal that you don’t hear someone coming up the ladder

- shauna sees what you’re doing and charges at you, snatching her journal from your grasp

- she shouts at you for reading her journal

- you honestly don’t really listen, too busy admiring how hot she is when she’s mad

- you eventually can’t hold yourself back and pull her in by her hips as close to you as possible

- you share a lust filled, rough kiss

- god you’ve wanted that for so long

van

- she’s not really a crazily jealous person

- she’s a hell of a lot more chilled out than the rest of the girls

- but when you start ditching sneaking out of the cabin with her to sit and read under the covers with misty? oh boy things change

- she’s never felt like this before, she could feel it in her chest how furious it made her to see you with someone else

- she would make sooo many sarcastic jokes about you both

- “they’re probably off snogging misty somewhere”

- you’d overhear one of her jokes to the girls and actually get pretty upset

- at some point later that night you’d drag her outside to explain the way her comments made you feel to her

- she feels terrible

- it was never her intention to upset you

- she admits her jealously got the better of her

- you have a very heartfelt conversation about the way you’ve both been feeling recently

- obviously a love confession

- let’s just say you walk back into the cabin holding hands, everyone pitching in an “ooo la la” or a whislte

lottie

- we all know my girl got some problems

- lottie is very protective of you

- always wanting you by her side

- so when she starts to notice that instead of attaching to her side, you’re attaching to nats, she goes a little crazy

- she’d honestly say some bullshit about how the wilderness wants you to stay with her at all times

- “lottie, you can’t be serious right now”

- “y/n i can’t ignore my visions”

- “we wouldn’t want to upset the wilderness now, would we?”

- at that you fold and agree to stop spending so much time with nat, even if you know it’s just lottie trying to act like it doesn’t bother her that you’ve been giving someone other than her attention

- nat is just in disbelief that her strategy to get you back worked

a/n: hope you liked this, this is my first ever time writing fanfic so don’t judge pls! lmk what you’d want next :)

#natalie scatorccio x reader #lottie matthews x reader #taissa turner x reader #vanessa palmer x reader #misty quigley x reader #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets #lottie mathews #natalie scatorccio #vanessa palmer #taissa turner #misty quigley #shauna shipman

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nexysworld · 1 year

Text

Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

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You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals.

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips.

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats.

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.”

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…”

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you.

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down.

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together.

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense.

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf.

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence.

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door.

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit.

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.”

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended.

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies.

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing.

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon.

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt.

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.”

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea.

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day.

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do.

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead.

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply.

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response.

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

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

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning.

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind.

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though.

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry.

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time.

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine.

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base.

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?”

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation.

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up.

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there.

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent.

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something.

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing.

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder.

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up.

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?”

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will.

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them.

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body.

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper.

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill.

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh.

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you.

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were.

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground.

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra.

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light.

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame.

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything.

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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yelena-bellova · 2 years

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Strangers in the Night

Plot: Joel and Y/n try their hardest to ignore and avoid their past while waiting on the cover of night to leave the QZ.

Warnings: M for violence, gore, language, allusions to sex, alcohol, unwanted advances (16+)

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Okay, let me just say, did not expect such a big reaction to this little 2.2k fic I thought up randomly. You guys wanted a series, so here’s a series. It’ll be 16+ from here so please specify your age in your bio if you’d like to be tagged. I’m really excited to write this one, hope y’all enjoy it! It's gonna be a wild frickin' ride...

——————————

May 9th, 2002, Austin Texas

It was unseasonably warm for spring in Austin. Summer was making an early entrance and driving everyone indoors. The bars were packed each night, but especially on the weekends. Something about the heat always inspired people to drink more.

The Miller brothers were seated at a table in the far corner of Dane’s, each nursing a Budweiser. Despite it being a Saturday, they’d worked overtime on a garage apartment conversion. It was in Joel’s neighborhood and he needed the money. Jobs hadn’t been ripe for picking lately, in going the extra mile with the clients he did have, he could bank on a few referrals.

“We’re runnin’ short on the 2x4s,” Joel told his brother, “And it wouldn’t hurt to-“

“Dude,” Tommy made a slicing motion with his hand, “You’re off the clock. Switch off for a while.”

“I’m just trying to get ahead,” Joel replied.

Tommy smiled, lounging in his chair, “Look, you’ve got two modes: work mode and dad mode. And guess what? You never come out of either. It’s a Friday night, you’ve got a sitter, why not just try being a single, not-offensively unattractive, guy?”

Joel’s eyebrows were permanently furrowed, especially around conversations like this. Tommy meant well, but he’d been trying to get Joel to find something outside of work and his daughter for years. It wasn’t happening.

“So you’re sayin’ I should focus less on keeping a roof over my daughter’s head and makin’ sure she’s happy?” Joel asked, leaning back in his chair, “I get that right?”

Tommy chuckled and shook his head, “I’m just saying…you’re gettin’ more and more like an old man the longer you’re by yourself. Wouldn’t hurt to find someone that makes you happy.”

It was easy to ignore Tommy’s ramblings, but Joel couldn’t deny there was some truth to what he was saying. After Sarah’s mom up and left them, he kept his heart guarded from the world. Sarah and Tommy were the only ones he had the space to love. No, not the space. He had all the capacity in the world to hold someone else close to his soul, he was just too afraid of getting hurt again.

A few feet away at the bar, Y/n twirled her wine glass in her hand. Navigating a new city and a new job was taking it out of her. There had been no catalyst in her decision to move to Austin. She wasn’t running from a bad relationship nor did she need space from her family, she’d just wanted a change. So far, aside from the random heat wave, she was enjoying herself. The people were friendly, the neighborhood was quiet…she could see herself eventually calling the place home.

As she enjoyed her own company, a muscly man approached the seat next to her. He didn’t even do her the courtesy of asking if it was taken.

He flashed a pearly smile at Y/n, “Havin’ a good night?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, not looking up from her glass.

“Haven’t seen you around here,” the man continued, “You new to town?”

Y/n politely smiled, wishing he’d taken the hint. “Sure.”

“Findin’ your way around alright,” he put his elbows on the bar, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere, “Or are you thinkin’ you need a tour guide? Someone to show you around? Help make you feel a little more comfortable?”

Y/n was fighting the urge not to laugh, she’d seen dogs in heat more subtle than this guy. “I’m doing fine on my own, thanks,” she replied, her will to smile fading with each second he stayed.

“I don’t know,” the guy dragged his fingers up and down the condensation on his beer bottle, “You seem a little lost to me, darlin’. I got a hog outside, we could head out…night scene’s pretty wild here.”

Y/n took another sip of her wine, “Not really a wild kind of gal.”

The man’s lingering stare was beginning to make Y/n’s skin crawl. It was like he was staring straight through her clothes. He leaned in to her, his arm grazing hers, as if the close proximity was imperative to what he was about to say.

“I got this theory that inside every woman,” he lowered his voice, “There’s a wild girl just waitin’ to come out. She just needs the right cowboy,” he paused, a smile spreading across his lips, “To let her loose.”

Concealing her annoyance, Y/n looked down at her glass bashfully. She peeked back up out of her eyelashes, “What’s your name?”

“Jacob,” he answered.

“Jacob,” she repeated sweetly, leaning in closer to him, “Going around trying to prove how big your dick is ain’t gonna make any woman want to touch it.”

Jacob pulled back a little, shocked at both the comment and how easily being foul mouthed came to this woman. Y/n scrunched her nose and gave a sugary smile before moving to get up from her stool.

Jacob grabbed her shoulder, not prepared to lose the battle. “Hang on there, sweetheart.”

“Let go of me,” Y/n was quick to say.

“I don’t think you quite understand what I’m offerin’ you here…”

“Let,” Y/n gritted her teeth, raising her voice slightly, “Go of me.”

Jacob began to close the space between their faces, “What’re you gonna do if I ain’t ready to say goodbye to ya yet?”

“Hey.”

Y/n turned to the two men who had approached while she was fending Jacob off. The one with the mustache swung his fist and landed a shiner on Jacob’s nose. The whole bar gasped as he stumbled backwards, clutching his now bleeding face. The mystery man placed an arm in front of Y/n, making himself the barrier between Jacob’s advances and her safety.

Once Jacob caught his footing, revealing just how tipsy he was, he clumsily stalked back towards them. The second man stepped forward and effortlessly threw a punch to Jacob’s abdomen, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. The other patrons actually clapped and cheered at the knockout.

The man shielding Y/n and his friend grabbed Jacob’s arms and pulled him to his knees. Dane, the owner, came out from around the counter and marched towards the door. The men dragged Jacob through the bar, taking no care to his hands and feet as they knocked into chairs and tables. With Dane holding the door open, they threw him out, earning another round of cheers from the bar.

Y/n watched it all with a hand over her mouth. The whole thing had left her more anxious than she cared to admit.

Her two saviors made their way through the room, earning pats on the back from most of the patrons.

“Are you okay?” The man with the mustache asked when they reached her.

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, trying to hide how her hands was shaking, “Are you?”

“Not the worst we’ve seen,” the clean shaven guy smiled, flexing his bruised hand, “But I think you’re gonna have to take a shower to get that creep’s touch off ya.”

Y/n chortled, the feeling of his fingers digging into her skin hadn’t left yet. “I’m really sorry you had to step in,” she said earnestly, “I’m not great with following through on my smack talk.”

“Nah, you were holding your own,” the cheerier of the two men laughed.

“Hey, can I buy you guys a round?” Y/n asked, “It’s the least I can do.”

“There’s no need,” the quieter guy shook his head.

“No, I want to,” Y/n insisted, looking between the two of them.

The one who had done most of the talking so far was the first to relent. “Fine, but we’re spotting your next glass. Just to try and restore the ever-deteriorating reputation of men.”

Y/n laughed heartily for the first time of the night. She liked them.

“Hey, Dane,” the talkative man flagged down the bartender and turned to Y/n, “What’re you drinking?”

Y/n held up her dwindling glass of rosé.

“Another rosé for the rosebud,” the man finished, winking at Y/n in a way that felt more playful than flirtatious, “I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Y/n,” she took his extended hand and shook it before turning to the other man.

“Joel,” he pressed his palm to hers.

Y/n smiled, her eyes lingering on the man as they shook hands. There was a peace to him that she already knew she liked.

Y/n ended up at Tommy and Joel’s table, each of them sipping a victory drink and talking up a storm. It was one of the easiest conversations any of them had ever had.

“So you just picked up one day and,” Tommy made a swooping gesture, “Came to Austin?”

Y/n shrugged, “Just needed a change.”

Tommy whistled, “That’s brave.”

“I mean, it’s Austin,” Y/n chuckled, “It’s not New York,” she took a sip of the free rosé, “What about you two?”

“Nah, we’ve been here forever,” Joel answered, holding his beer to his lips.

Tommy raised his bottle to his brother, “Can’t even get this fucker to take a vacation somewhere.”

“Workaholic or homebody?” Y/n asked.

Joel was inhaling to answer when Tommy spoke up, “Both.”

“Nothin’ wrong with working hard or staying home,” Joel replied, throwing back a swig.

“Nah,” Tommy replied, smirking, “Only when you do it.”

Joel glared out the sides of his eyes at his brother. Y/n laughed against the rim of her glass.

“Well,” Tommy leaned against the table, “If you ever need a tour guide, we’re at your disposal. We’ll show you the real grimy hole in the wall places. Best food or beer in the city are always in the places you’d least expect it.”

Contrary to Jacob’s thinly veiled advances, Y/n took Tommy and Joel for exactly how they presented themselves. They were funny, they were gentlemanly, and they were the first people in Austin she’d met who she felt truly comfortable around.

Joel, who was naturally more quiet than his brother, had never felt more lost for words. He was trying to keep himself in check considering the happenstance of their meeting, but all he wanted to do was look at Y/n. When she laughed, something inside his stomach twisted. When their eyes met, his chest tightened. There was something about being around this girl that felt very, very different than anyone else.

“Well,” Y/n checked her watch, catching the late hour, “I’ve got the morning shift tomorrow and I can’t be too hungover. Thank you both for the company and the wine,” she smiled at Joel, “It was a big improvement on how the night started.”

“Yeah, we’d better go too,” Joel announced, rising to his feet with Tommy, “Gotta get a head start tomorrow before the storm moves in.”

Tommy gestured to his big brother, smiling at Y/n, “What’d I tell you?”

“I gotta side with your brother here,” Y/n smiled, scrunching her face a little, “Everyone needs a break. That’s kinda what weekends are for”

“See?” Tommy said, “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

Joel was on the verge of busting out in to a grin. “Not my problem if you two are lazy,” he shot back.

Y/n and Tommy each gaped with laughter. Joel smiled, he’d wanted to hear her laugh one more time before they parted.

“Well, you two have restored the name of ‘men’ quite admirably,” Y/n grabbed her purse, “Thank you for what you did, really. If you hadn’t stepped in, tonight would have ended much worse.”

Tommy shook his head, “Don’t mention it. Just learn how to throw a punch,” he slapped his hand against Joel’s shoulder, “And I think we’ll both sleep better at night.”

“I’ll get on that,” Y/n chuckled. She wasn’t sure if it was the kinship she felt or the rosé had simply relaxed her, but she reached over to Tommy and gave him a one-armed hug.

“See ya around, Rosebud,” Tommy said, keeping his hand respectfully high up on her shoulders.

“See ya,” Y/n replied, pulling back to look at Joel. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen, only that she wanted to memorize his face before she left. “Goodnight,” she said with a small smile.

Joel tried to ignore how his heart was thudding in his chest. “‘Night,” he replied.

His eyes followed her all the way to the door, till she stepped out into the steamy evening air. He wasn’t sure why he had to urge to follow her.

“You,” Tommy gripped Joel’s shoulder a little tighter, “Are fucked.”

Joel rolled his eyes at his little brother’s laughter, “The hell’re you talking about?”

Tommy fell back down in his chair, a hand resting on his chest, “You were fuckin’ smitten with her.”

“‘Smitten?’” Joel cringed, taking his seat and his beer, “What’re you, 14?”

“Fine, hot for, taken with, enamored, mesmerized,” Tommy chuckled, “Whatever you wanna call it…you liked her.”

Joel shrugged and took another drink, “‘Course I liked her. You liked her too.”

“Not like you,” Tommy shook his head, still grinning, “I think she liked you too.”

Pushing down the way his stomach jumped when Tommy said that, he glanced over at the door again. He looked back to the table, checking to see if she’d left anything. Maybe she’d have to come back. What would he do if she did? Would he ask for her number? Or was that too forward? He didn’t want anything he did to remind her at all of the asshat they’d tossed out-

“She didn’t leave anything, dude.”

Tommy’s voice brought Joel out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at Y/n’s empty seat. There was no reason for her to come back.

“You’re fucked,” Tommy brought the conversation full circle, patting his brother’s shoulder and taking a drink.

Joel hid his disappointment, just like his infatuation; well, but not well enough. He looked down at his bottle, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not gonna see her again.”

Tommy shrugged, “Austin ain’t that big.”

Outside, Y/n was making the three minute walk down the street to her apartment complex. Her mind was no longer focused on the douche whose name she was already forgetting, all she could think of was how Joel smiled like he had a secret. How his laughter was reserved only for when he found something hilarious. How whether he was sitting beside his brother or punching out a handsy creep, he was completely relaxed. How his brown eyes were so warm, one gaze into them had given her goosebumps…

Y/n shook her head at herself, completely thrown for a loop. One encounter with one guy and she felt like there was some invisible string tugging harder with every inch of distance she put between herself and the bar. The chances of bumping into Tommy and Joel again in a city as big as Austin were slim. It was a reality she had to face. It was just one of those meetings that left you feeing like you’d experienced true magic. She was saddened at the thought of never sitting across from Joel again.

Into the night, with a total distance of seven minutes unbeknownst between them, Joel and Y/n each retired and prepared for their respective early mornings. Joel paid the neighbor who’d watched Sarah, Y/n called and checked in on her sister, who’d just had a baby. Joel kissed his daughter goodnight, Y/n finished up a load of laundry. They each changed into their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and turned out the lights. It was then, in the sweet space between sleep and consciousness that they let their minds drift back to each other….

—————————

2023, Boston

Of course it was raining. Rain made everything easier.

Joel, Tess, Y/n and Ellie trudged through the streets of what was once downtown Boston. Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s back at all times, untrusting of both the people around them and the ones they were traveling with.

Even with the utter chaos they were in the middle of, Y/n’s mind was overtaken by the holes being burned into the back of her head. Joel’s stare was unfaltering. She wanted to turn around and scream at him, but that would garner the attention they were trying so hard not to attract. That was fine, she had more than enough anger and more than enough time to let him feel it.

Joel, whose every move was made with vigilante like precision, was struggling to keep his thoughts in order. The past was so easy to put behind you when you never had to look at it. Faced with the person who knew it all, had seen it all…the second he’d laid eyes on Y/n, it had all come flooding back. He had to get himself in check. Y/n’s unfiltered hatred was helping him there.

They made it to Joel and Tess’ apartment without any trouble, the four of them filing down the narrow hallway. Y/n pulled as far away from Joel as possible while they waited for Tess to unlock the door, which wasn’t very far. Once it was open, Joel impatiently waved for Ellie to enter, saving the same glare for Y/n. Ellie entered apprehensively, while Y/n knew enough to know that they were Joel and Tess’ leverage. Without them, they couldn’t get their battery. They were safe, for the time being.

“Give us a minute, all right?” Tess stated more than asked, heading back out to the hall.

“What the fu-“ Ellie started, the door silenced the last two letters.

Y/n put a finger to her lips, standing beside the door and listening to the other side of the door. Tess and Joel were discussing which route to take, something that infuriated her. There was only one child in their party, she refused to let Joel make her anything other than an equal.

She threw down her backpack and threw the door open. “If you two are planing on excluding me from the planning side of things, let me know now so I can strangle you both,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“You wanna tell us what we’re really doing with this kid?” Tess fired back.

“Not particularly,” Yn replied.

“Then you don’t get a voice here,” Tess looked to Joel, “We leave after dark. Stay with them.”

Joel took a step forward as his partner walked off, “Wait, why do I have to — Tess! Tess!”

Tess turned the corner of the hall without ever breaking stride.

Joel sighed loudly, eventually looking over to Y/n.

“She’s lovely,” Y/n snarked, earning a signature Miller scowl.

Joel nodded towards the door and Y/n slipped back inside, he kept an overly safe distance between them. Y/n unzipped her backpack and grabbed her first aid kit, sitting down at Joel’s table to tend to her bullet wound. Joel shrugged off his pack and threw himself on the couch. Ellie was splitting the distance between them, holding a large book in her hands.

“So,” the girl started, “Who’s Bill and Frank?”

Joel looked up confused, as if he couldn’t imagine how she could have possibly heard anything from the other side of the door.

“Oh, come on, Tool Time,” Y/n chortled, as she opened the bottle of disinfectant, “This whole place is paper thin.”

“The radio’s a smuggling code, right?” Ellie asked, “60s song, they don’t have anything new. 70s, they got new stuff. What’s 80’s?”

Joel got off the couch and ripped the book out of Ellie’s hands, throwing it to the side. He glanced over at Y/n, who was struggling to keep her grunts quiet as she cleaned her wound. A twinge of pain ran through his chest as she scrunched up her face, trying to keep her breaths steady. His fingers automatically twitched to help her, but it wouldn’t actually help anyone. Instead, he fought his instincts walked back to the couch and laid down.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“Killin’ time,” Joel said, his drawl particularly noticeable.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” his eyes were already closed, just like the conversation.

Y/n began to use a q-tip to spread antiseptic cream over the wound, the cooling sensation dulling the pain.

Ellie took back the book and walked past Joel, “Your watch is broken.”

Four little words froze Y/n, hunched over the table with her supplies. She didn’t have to look to know that Joel’s eyes were open again. It was the second time today that they’d been perfectly in sync. The first was pulling their guns on one another and, to be honest, Y/n would have preferred to stare down the barrel of his pistol. Bullets were simple and easy to dodge, memories were more cunning and hurt significantly more.

Y/n finished dressing her wound, zipping the kit back up and throwing it in her backpack. She laid her jacket out to dry on the back of the chair and finally took a good look at her surroundings. She couldn’t have chosen a place more opposite to Joel’s 3-bed 3-bath in Austin. The floors creaked, the walls were stained, and the ceilings were uncomfortably low. Home was a fluid concept in the world they lived in, and the kind Y/n was thinking of was lost entirely.

“He’s fun,” Ellie grunted from her seat at the window.

Y/n scoffed, “You have no idea.”

If they’d be using the cover of night to travel, Y/n knew Joel had the right idea to sleep now. She pulled out a sweater from her backpack, bunched it up and set it on the ground across from the couch. Without any blankets, she made the call that a nearby rug would be the next best thing. She shook it out and placed it below the sweater.

“Try and get some sleep,” Y/n instructed Ellie, “You’re gonna need it.”

Ellie simply hummed and continued paging through the book. Y/n slipped under the dirty rug and sighed, she’d slept in worse places for much longer…

She took the moment of peace to finally take a good look at Joel. His eyebrows still furrowed as he slept, as if he was in a constant state of disapproval with the world. The rest of his face was softer, a strange contrast, but so very him. His chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm. It was hard for Y/n not to remember how it felt to lay with her ear against his heart, lifting and lowering with him…

The QZ was small, and stories got around. Y/n had known for a while that Joel was in Boston. She’d also heard the stories of the things he’d done, the people he’d killed, and just how far he’d go to guarantee his survival. Despite not owing him anything, Y/n had refused to believe them. She adamantly denied the possibility that she could have ever loved a man capable of such hideous acts. The Cordecyps had changed them all in different ways, but she had to believe that Joel was still Joel…

————————————

“Hey.”

A mumble and a boot kick to the shoulder had Y/n startling awake. She rolled over to see Ellie, still sitting by the window with the book in her lap.

“How do you know him?”

Y/n squinted and sat up, her joints cracking as she stretched her limbs. The sky outside was pitch black, clearly she’d needed more sleep than she thought.

“He’s an…” she began to say, the complexity of the situation hitting her all over again. There was only one answer to give that wouldn’t invite any more questions. “I was friends with his brother a long time ago.”

Ellie’s seemed to accept it, “Where’re you from?”

“Texas.”

The girl’s eyes widened, “You lived in Texas?”

“Just for a little while,” Y/n replied, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes,

Ellie looked down at her hands and then out the window, “I’ve never been out that far.”

Y/n sighed, thinking about what it might be like to grow up never having known what the world used to be like. “You’re not missing much, kid,” she lied. She’d have gone back to Austin in a heartbeat, if it was at all possible.

“What’s ‘rosebud?’”

Y/n’s body went cold, as if she’d just been plunged into ice water, memories slamming into her like waves. A glass of rosé and belly laughter, a backyard game of football, soft lips whispering sweet nothings against her ear…

She looked over at Ellie calmly, “What?”

The girl nodded towards Joel, who was still peacefully sleeping. “He kept mumbling the word ‘rosebud,’” she replied, “Thought maybe it was a code word or something.”

It did serve as a codeword, containing secrets, laughter, and all the love that had once existed in Y/n’s world. Now the mere utterance cut her worse than any blade could.

“If it is,” Y/n got to her feet, not wanting to be anywhere near the word, “I don’t know what it means.”

Joel woke then, startling without any real physicality. He stared up at the ceiling, dazed from his dreams. No, nightmares. That’s what they were.

“You mumble in your sleep,” Ellie said, announcing her presence, “Something about ‘rosebud.’”

If that didn’t wake him up, nothing could. His eyes flitted across the room, looking for the woman who owned every inch of the word. When Joel couldn’t find her, he pushed up on one arm and found her sitting at his kitchen table with her back turned to him.

In his subconscious, he’d seen her as she used to be. Her eyes full of light, her smile like pure sunshine, laughter pouring out of her with a freedom so few people allowed themselves. He’d felt her soft skin against his, felt her lips pressed to his jawline, right between his neck and his ear. He’d known her for the first time in twenty years, only to wake up and find her ghost.

Joel swung his legs over the couch and rose, his knees and back aching. Getting older in a post-apocalyptic world felt extra cruel. He ventured over to the table, ready to test the waters and see just how bad of a time he was in for.

Y/n sighed in annoyance as Joel took the chair next to her. She needed distance she wasn’t going to get, from him and all that he reminded her of.

They sat in the most awkward silence either of them had ever known.

Joel was the first to break it, “You get some sleep?”

Y/n glared out the corner of her eyes at him, the first words he spoke to her after their confrontation and that was the first thing he said?

Joel’s chest tightened at her poisoned stare, he wasn’t going to get an answer. “Wound okay?”

“This whole thing’ll go a lot easier if you stop pretending to give a shit about me,” Y/n said quietly, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the volume, “We both know you don’t.”

The walls weren’t coming down. Joel knew that. He didn’t want them down. But after seeing her, full of energy and joy, he had to check and see if there was any bit of that woman left. His eyes scanned her skin, so many scars and scrapes where there had once been a smooth surface. Her hair was dry, streaks of oil laced like highlights through the strands. Her nails were chipped and caked with dirt underneath. But most noticeably, there were two prominent frown lines across her cheeks. That let Joel know that the woman he’d once loved was absolutely gone.

“What happened to Tommy?” Y/n asked. She couldn’t help herself, but she kept her tone frosty.

“Sent a message three weeks back,” Joel answered, his fist fidgeting against the table, “Haven’t heard anything.”

Y/n didn’t want to take any strolls with Joel down memory lane, but Tommy was…Tommy. She couldn’t deny that she still cared about him deeply. “Do you know where he is?”

“Wyoming,” Joel answered, looking past her eyes at the wall. He didn’t think he could handle speaking about his brother to her, of all people.

“Oh,” she said, “So you’re completely crazy now.”

That earned her a hardened gaze, as if Joel had anything else for her.

“I’ve never been on the other side of the Wall,” Ellie spoke up, “Look how dark it is.”

Y/n got up first, smoothing her tank top back down and leaning against the wall near the door. Joel followed, retaking his seat on the couch. They both pondered the same thing separately: how much life Ellie had missed out on just by being born in the wrong decade.

“You guys go out there a lot?” Ellie asked Joel.

“I guess,” he answered.

“When was the last time?”

“Maybe a year,” Joel quickly replied, he wasn’t enjoying all the questions, “What’s it matter?”

“But you know where to go,” Ellie clarified, looking too much like a kid, “So we’re gonna be okay.”

It was a fair question, and Joel couldn’t fault her for being scared. Fear was all she’d ever known.

“Yeah,” he answered, significantly softer than his last one.

Y/n’s eyes grazed the window, spotting the plastic butterfly that clung to the glass. After all these years, Joel had managed to keep it. It took all the self-discipline she had not to let her tears fall.

“So what’s the deal with you anyway,” Joel asked Ellie, “You some kind of bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?”

Both Ellie and Y/n knowingly smirked to themselves. “Something like that,” Ellie replied, “Oh, the radio came on while you were sleeping.”

“What?” Joel snapped to attention, leaning forward, “What was the song?

“He kept sayin’ like, “wake me up before you go-go?” Ellie answered, making Y/n and Joel feel much much older.

Joel knew what that meant, and it was nothing good. “Shit,” he whispered to himself.

Ellie’s smirk spread across her face, “Gotcha. 80’s means trouble. Code broken.”

Joel got to his feet, having used his patience up earlier in the day. “Listen-“

Y/n was between him and Ellie in a flash, sticking out a hand towards Joel. She was off limits, even for a light scolding. Luckily, the door opened up before anything could be said. Tess had returned.

“The spot under Lancaster looks good,” she reported, turning to Ellie after, “You got a jacket in your pack?”

“Yeah,” Ellie responded.

“Okay, get it. It’s time to go.”

Y/n stuffed her sweater back in backpack and went to retrieve her now-dry jacket. It had been a long time since she’d gone outside of the QZ, she couldn’t decide whether she was terrified or happy to step outside the fence.

Joel on the other hand felt like he couldn’t move. Between the fear over his brother’s safety, being close to Y/n once again and the daunting task ahead of them, he wanted to pause it all for a moment. Tess throwing his jacket at him was a good reminder that he didn’t get to take minutes.

As Y/n went to the window to check Ellie, her eye caught the butterfly in the window again. Much like ‘Rosebud,’ there was another name that she never said. She could practically see it weaved into the fine details of the creature, the bright blue against the dark black. When Joel’s back was turned. Y/n pulled the cling off the window and shoved it in her backpack. If they were going to do this, she needed to feel strong enough to do it. She’d give it back to Joel and face his wrath when the deed was done.

The four of them made it out and into the underground tunnels, landing in a lesser frequented area of the QZ. Joel climbed out first and scanned their surroundings, helping to pull Ellie out after. Y/n came through next, though Joel knew better than the extend his hand to her, and finally, Tess.

“Holy shit,” Ellie remarked, spinning around to take it all in, “I’m actually outside.”

Not half a second later, a helicopter made its round over them, searchlights shining off it. Tess pulled Ellie in and crouched behind a large piece of debris.

“Okay, we’re gonna take the left edge around the buffer zone,” Tess explained, “You stay close and you follow my lead.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Ellie nodded in understanding, glancing over to Y/n as if to get approval. Y/n nodded back, placing momentary trust that Tess would protect the girl.

“Same goes for you,” Joel said from beside her, his voice low.

Y/n glared over her shoulder, “I really don’t think you want me where you can’t see me.”

“Let’s go,” Tess ordered.

The four of them crawled under an abandoned school bus with Joel bringing up the rear. Walking while crouched was hard, but they managed their best and paused behind a car when a FEDRA patrol vehicle passed by. Once it was clear, they made their way through a rusted, metal pipe, stopping when the chopper passed over them again. Y/n caught a peek at Ellie’s face as the light shone on them, she looked terrified. Through her own nerves, Y/n reached over and took Ellie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Joel watched the whole thing, if he wanted a glimpse of the woman he’d once known, he’d gotten it. Her heart was still there.

Their team hurried out of the pipe, rushing to hide behind another big piece of debris. A storm was starting, the lightning acting as temporary lighting for their path. Joel was leading the way when their presence was detected.

“Hey,” a FEDRA soldier shouted, “Hey! Don’t, don’t, don’t move.”

Joel hurriedly looked around for more, pushing Ellie behind him. He held his hands up in surrender, along with Y/n, Ellie and Tess. If they wanted to get out of this, they needed to play along.

The FEDRA soldier opened the visor of his helmet, getting a look at Joel. “You gotta be shittin’ me…”

“Okay, let’s talk this out,” Joel said calmly.

“Turn around,” the soldier ignored him.

“Hold on-“

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” the soldier yelled, “Get on your fuckin’ knees!”

Joel wasn’t giving up, “Now, hold on-“

“What did I fuckin’ tell you, man? I said stay the fuck home,” he pointed to the ground, “Get on your knees!”

Y/n knew if he fought any harder, he was going to get them all killed. Taking matters into her own hands, she dropped. “Ellie,” she said calmly, “Get down.”

“Just get on your knees,” Tess said to Joel, “Just get on your knees.”

Joel listened and kneeled between Ellie and Tess, turning his back to the soldier. Ellie finally followed Yn’s directions and got down next to Y/n.

“Listen, you let us do this run,” Tess bargained, “We’ll split the cards with you.”

The soldier wasn’t having it, “Oh, will you?”

Y/n’s breaths quickened, knowing their chances of escape were slim. There had to be something to do. If she gave herself up, would he let Tess and Joel leave with Ellie? She didn’t particularly feel like dying, but Ellie was too important to compromise. They could get her the rest of the way.

“Hands on your head, eyes forward,” the soldier instructed. It was the eyes forward bit that bothered Joel the most. They wanted to control what they couldn’t even see.

“Hands on your head,” the soldier screamed, startling them all into doing it. He came up behind Tess, holding a device to her neck. Checking to see if they were infected.

Y/n’s heart stopped in her chest. Shit.

“Really, man?” Tess complained.

The soldier was undeterred, “Yep, we’re doin’ this by the book.”

Ellie nudged Y/n with her boot, signaling she knew what was coming. Y/n wasn’t sure how to offer her any assurance that they’d be okay.

“Unauthorized exit,” the soldier reported, “They’ll hang you for that.”

“Fine,” Joel tried again, “Everythin’ off this run and half off of all the pills.”

Their voices faded in Y/n’s ears. If she could move quick enough, she could spin around and shoot the soldier before he knew what was happening. It would give Tess and Joel a few seconds to get away.

Before Y/n could make a decision, Ellie stole her move and stabbed the soldier in the leg.

“Ellie!” Y/n and Tess cried in unison.

The soldier was momentarily dazed, stumbling backwards and trying to figure out where the injury was. Y/n took the opportunity to shove Ellie behind her. Joel did the same, jumping to his feet and standing in front of Y/n. It was pure instinct.

“Get out of the fuckin’ way,” the soldier yelled, aiming his gun past the adults.

Joel could talk his way out of a lot, but this looked grim. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“We can fix this,” he tried, holding up his hands as a barrier between them and the soldier.

The soldier was done listening to their pathetic attempts. “Move.”

Joel didn’t budge.

“Move.”

Y/n had been on the recieving end of a lot of guns, held by people who thought that God had abandoned the post-apocalyptic warland and it was their job to fill His seat. But the military regulated weaponry, the uniform, the expressionless face that wouldn’t fill with guilt the moment its body pulled the trigger.

It transported her back twenty years.

And she knew Joel was there with her.

He surged forward, letting out a gutteral cry as he tackled the soldier to the ground. He climbed atop him, pinning him, and began to throw one merciless punch after the other. The crunching of bone and squishing of flesh formed an awful, perfect, rhythm.

While Ellie watched and felt something awaken within her, Y/n felt something die. She watched the man she’d known in her past life as loving and tender become a necessary monster. People thought mourning was only for those who left the earth, but there were plenty of dead souls still breathing. If there was any debate as to whether or not her version of Joel Miller was truly gone, the proof was now and forever burned into Y/n’s mind. Someone else now inhabited in his body.

When the job was done, Joel sat heaving over the man’s body, looking down at his bloody and bruised fist. It was the closest he could ever come to avenging her. When he looked up, his eyes first fell on Ellie, who didn’t seem to mind the violence at all. It seemed she actually liked it.

Y/n’s eyes told a different story.

A well-timed lightning strike lit her up, and Joel saw tears pooling below her y/e/c pupils. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anxiety mixing with terror. Joel knew exactly what she was thinking about him and for a singular second, he felt guilt. He felt guilt for causing her pain, for forcing her to see him as anything other than the man she’d known.

It passed as quick as it came. It had to.

Tess grabbed the dropped scanner and read the bright red screen. Y/n hurried back to the present pulled Ellie by her jacket away from Tess.

“No, no,” Ellie yelled, “No, I’m not sick!”

“Joel,” Tess called, beginning to panic.

“She’s not sick,” Y/n backed Ellie up, “She’s clean!”

“Joel,” Tess yelled again, putting space between Y/n and her.

Ellie pulled her jacket sleeve up to reveal her arm, “Look! Look! This is three weeks old! Nobody lasts more than a day! Does this look a day old to you?”

Tess examined the bite site, it looked more like a bad scar than an infectious wound.

“You would have fuckin’ killed me!” Ellie said in horror.

“I should fucking kill you,” Tess bit back, looking up at Y/n, “What the hell’s Marlene trying to pull?!”

“It’s true,” Y/n said, keeping one hand over her pistol in case Tess didn’t listen, “She’s clean.”

She looked past Tess’ shoulder and over to Joel, who was still watching her. It was a long shot to get him of all people to listen to her, but now, she was happy to bank on their history in hopes that he’d believe her.

“I swear it,” Y/n held a hand up, her eyes digging into Joel’s, begging for him to not raise his gun.

Joel stopped short at Y/n’s vulnerability, he was shaken in every direction just from the last thirty seconds. He felt his will to argue with her slipping away.

“They’re gonna catch us if we don’t run,” Ellie stated, she wasn’t wrong. They could argue elsewhere and keep their lives.

“Joel, we gotta move,” Tess called, interrupting the stare-off between Y/n and him, “We gotta move, Joel.”

Ellie and Tess were already making their way to the fence, but Y/n and Joel stayed a second longer. Neither one had much credibility with the other, not after the last time they’d been together. But at the moment, Joel had two choices. He could either die at FEDRA’s hands, or he could follow the woman he’d once trusted most in the world and believe her one more time.

He chose the latter, though he was far from believing.

Joel picked up the soldier’s rifle and gestured for Y/n to move, the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, who were already slipping through a hole in the chained fence. Y/n pushed through it, coming to stand on the other side of the QZ’s limits and pausing for Joel. She knew he trusted her as far as he could throw her and she wasn’t totally confidant in turning her back to him. She waited till he came through and the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, into the night and into the unknown…

————————

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 2 months

Text

title: the mysterious blonde (PART 3)

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you’re gigi’s best friend but the project is now over. does that mean the little moments you shared with her brother are over too?? that’s what you think until she invites you for a beach day…. but someone special comes along and it makes your day a whole lot better as well as shaping a future

parts: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

warnings:

a/n: ‘the mysterious blonde’ has two parts prior to this one and it would make way more sense if you read those first. they linked above if you want to check them out or remind yourself of what happened…

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

After the project was over, there wasn’t much of an excuse for me to see Grayson. But luckily, Gigi was shipping us together so hard that she created lots of helpful excuses in order to create interactions. Except I wasn’t so good at the ‘creating interactions’ part. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the guy, let alone start a full conversation. That’s why at school, when me and Gigi were on lunch break, she sat me down and told me we had to discuss something.

“You need to talk to him more,” she says, staring me dead in the eye.

“I am trying,” I reply, sounding too unsure for it to be true.

“Liar,” she pokes her tongue out.

“Okay but isn’t it going to be super obvious if I just start having conversations with him,” I try to reason with her.

“No,” she shrugs as I’ve just asked her if the sun is green.

“Gigi have you ever talked to a guy before,” I ask her.

“That is offensive,” she gasps, fighting a smile.

I roll my eyes, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Besides the point,” she announces, “you need to talk to him.”

She brings is back to the topic I was trying to change the subject from. Annoyingly there seems to be no way out.

“What about? I don’t even know what he likes,” I groan, “maybe we’re just not meant to be-“

“No I refuse,” Gigi interrupt, putting her palm on my face, “I want to be a bridesmaid at this wedding so I’m going to make it happen.”

I sigh as a comfortable silence falls upon us. I wish I had the courage to talk to him like a normal human but I’m so conscious of what he might think of me that I always seem to back out. There’d been times when I’d been close, for instance last night. We walked past one another and we smiled at each other and I almost turned around and mentioned something he’d said at dinner, but my heart was racing too much and the nerves took over.

“Swimming,” Gigi suddenly decrees.

“Huh?” I say, still partly in my thoughts, trying to process what she said and why.

“He likes swimming,” she clarifies, with a hand gesture.

Now that explained his body.

“Swimming?” I raise my eyebrows, attempting to figure out how I could possibly bring up swimming in a one on one conversation with him without sounding like an absolute stalker psycho.

“Don’t judge your husband,” she replies, slapping my arm lightly.

“Gigi,” I laugh, shaking my head.

“Look he’s coming for dinner tonight and I am going to make sure you guys are left in a room alone together so you have to talk,” she explains.

“That sounds really creepy out of context but thanks,” I grin.

This girl was a life saver. I mean she was literally making my, albeit questionable, love life actually happen. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. I make a mental note to buy her the worlds’ supply of chocolate covered pretzels when I get enough money.

“You’re so welcome,” she smiles, booping the tip of my nose as the bell rings.

***

Gigi stays true to her word, later that day I’m at her house. We’re just been hanging out as usual when she suggests we go downstairs into the living room. Coincidentally Grayson is there, looking gorgeously concentrated as he takes notes on something or other. We sit down on the sofa together, books in hand, when Gigi abruptly gets up. This is it. This is the moment.

“Sorry,” Gigi says to me quickly, “I’ll be back in a mo.”

“Okay,” I nod.

She gives me a wink before she leaves completely. I open my book. I need a distraction. I look down at the pages, the words all mushing into one giant mess. I can’t concentrate when Grayson is around. My hands are sweating and my leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably. The silence is deafening. I need to start conversation but he looked so concentrated when I walked in. Would he be annoyed? Weirded out? Or would he not care at all? I stare harder at the mess of letters on my page praying for a drop of courage to emerge to the surface.

“What book are you reading?”

My heart almost stops there and then. His voice startles me so much that I my body jerks forwards and a small gasp escapes my lips. I look up to see Grayson looking at me, at me.

“Sorry, did I make you jump?” he asks gently, his tone laced with concern as his eyebrows pinch together

“Just a little,” I laugh nervously, before flipping to the cover on the book, “it’s Pride and Prejudice,”

A smile tugs at his lips, I’ve never seen a man so beautiful when he smiles, “it’s a very good book.”

“You’ve read it?” I say, surprised as my eyebrows fly to forehead.

“Multiple times,” he nods smoothly.

I smile, “woah.”

There’s a few beats of silence before he offers, “you know if you ever wanted to maybe talk about your opinion on it, I’d be happy to-“

“Really?” I cut him off before he can even get his sentence out, being too shocked he’d even ask to keep myself from blurting out a reply.

“Of course,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“That would be really nice,” I reply, hoping my blush wasn’t as prominent as if felt, “thank you.”

“Of course,” he says again, as if it should be natural thing for him to want to talk to me, as of it was no problem

Theres a few beats of silence. I count as the second stick by, trying to work up the courage to use my voice, to say at least something.

“Gigi tells me you swim,” I manage.

I want the ground to swallow me whole. Murder me, murder me, murder me. Why did I say that and why did I say it so awkwardly? There was nothing, I repeat, nothing, that could have worsened my situation.

Grayson looks back up from his avid note taking and replies with a sweet, “I do.”

I couldn’t sense if he was trying to end the conversation there or didn’t know how to continue it but he didn’t seem to be carrying on with his work and he didn’t break my eye contact, so of course my stupid mouth has to carry on blabbing.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I find it quite calming,” he explains, “it gives me space to think.”

“Oh it’s one of those hobbies for you,” I say, feeling less apprehensive about naturally talking.

He nods.

“I like hobbies like that,” I continue, “things that just take you away from reality because it’s too much.”

“Do you swim?” he asks me.

“I mean I know how to but not competitively or anything like that,” I shrug.

I stare at his facial expression which is unwavering. Why can’t I read him like I can read Gigi? Is he disappointed? Pleased? Does he even care? I’m running around in circles like a headless chicken.

“What do you like to do?” he says, his voice so soft.

He asked about me. I’m taken aback. He cares enough about me to ask what I like. Maybe I’m being slightly delusional but I don’t care, sometimes delusional thoughts are just better than reality. Then again, why would he have asked if he didn’t acre? Could it just be small talk or is he genuinely concerned? I ponder my answer for far too long.

I almost reply but Savannah walks in asking a question, “hey where’s Gigi, I’ve been looking for her everywhere?”

Typical timing, I mentally sigh. I abandon my conversation with Grayson turn to her instead.

“I don’t know,” I shrug, “she said she needed to go for a couple of minutes.”

“Where?” she says, gesturing with her hands.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, “she didn’t really specify.”

“That isn’t helpful,” Savannah groans.

I raise my eyebrows slightly, silently asking her if she was okay. She moves her head forwards slightly, letting me know she is actually okay. She has dark circles under her eyes and a restless look on her face. I can only assume she’s exhausted, annoyed and probably has some sort of headache.

“Have you really checked everywhere?” Grayson pipes up.

“Why? Think you can a better job?” she challenges, arms folded and eyes narrowed at him.

“I was only asking,” Grayson shrugs, “you know what Gigi is like, she-“

“Did someone say my name?” Gigi calls from what sounds like the hallway.

Footsteps approach slowly and Gigi appears behind her twin.

Savannah turns around, “Where have you been?”

“Bathroom,” she answers but I can tell she’s lying by the way she fidgets with her thumb and finger in circular motions.

“I checked there and you weren’t,” her sister replies, her tone rather short.

“Well I went to my bedroom first and then the bathroom, you must’ve just missed me,” Gigi shrugs. Lie number two.

“Okay,” Savannah says sceptically, narrowing her eyes.

***

After my encounter with Grayson on that day I haven’t seen him since. I’ve been over to Gigi’s but she’s explained how he’s been away with his brothers for a bit. I start to lose hope and feelings feel like they might be fading. But it’s the day Gigi invites me out to the beach for the day that things sort of began to change. She texts me the night before and tells me to pack for a beach day. At first I’m a little uneasy but I get over it as she hypes me up to come, via facetime. Now I’m locking up my house and getting into her car, beach day ready. Oh the power of Gigi Grayson’s persuasion.

“We’re going to have the best day in the world,” she assures me as we walk from my door to her car.

“You say that almost every day,” I chuckle lightly

“Can you just not be a Debbie Downer for one day?” she whines at me, her eyes almost glossy.

“I am not a Debbie Downer, I am a Rachel Realist,” I reply, scrunching up my nose playfully,

“That’s not a thing,” she insists, folding her arms across her chest.

“It is now,” I laugh.

“You look more like a Ruth,” Gigi snickers, proud of herself.

My face falls flat, “hey! That’s just mean!”

She sticks her tongue out, throwing her head back as she laughs even harder at my disapproval. When she eventually calms down she looks me in the eye and tells me, “oh and by the way there’s a little surprise for you in the car.”

“Why am I scared?” I ask her, my tone failing to stay steady.

“Have fun,” she sing-sings with a little wink.

“Gigi what did you do?” I say accusingly, worry creeping up into my thumping heart.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing,” she replies, flapping her arms about for me to get into the car, but I’m still too scared.

“Three nothings equal a something,” I exclaim, panicking slightly. A million and one possibilities race through my head.

“How?” she furrows her brows.

“It’s basic math,” I say.

“Just get in,” she groans, pushing me towards the door.

I have no choice. And even after a million and one possibilities, none had prepared me for the one infront of me. Grayson Hawthorne was in the drivers’ seat. My jaw physically drops and I stare at Gigi. She would be getting an earful later. I can’t believe he’s actually here and coming with us. He turns around in his seat to look at me. Grey eyes are pinned to mine and a small smile lands on his lips.

“Hello y/n,” he says gently.

I almost melt right there and then. What is this guy doing to me? How is he doing it to me? Why is he doing it to me? The butterflies in my stomach seem to have multiplied since our last encounter.

“Hi Grayson,” I smile back

“It’s good to see you again,” he replies.

I am internally screaming. I can’t believe he just said that. I can practically feel Gigi’s excitement radiating off of her. I try and keep my cool.

“You too,” I say, then look to the passenger seat, “hey Sav.”

“Hey,” she grins at me, “you okay?”

I nod.

“Let’s drive!” Gigi yells, as Grayson starts up the engine, “oooo can I do the playlist!”

“You packed the snacks,” Savannah complains, “I want to at least get a choice in something.”

“Yeah but your music taste is horrible,” she counters, with a sweet shrug.

“Is not!” she protests, throwing her hands in the air.

I can feel Gigi’s eyes burning holes into the side of my face, I look back at her. She stares at me expectantly.

“Why are you looking at me?” I ask slowly.

“Back up,” she explains.

I am about to be in the middle of a sister argument and I really don’t want to be.

“Hey I’ve never said anything about Savannah’s music taste,” I say, forcing part of a laugh.

“Yeah but I can hear you thinking it,” Gigi tells me

“No you can’t!” I reply, then turn to Savannah, “some of it is good.”

“Ha!” she grins at Gigi, jabbing a finger towards her face.

“I don’t know why you’re ha-ing Savannah, I should be the one ha-ing, she half agreed with me,” she replies, arms folded.

“And half agreed with me, stupid,” Savannah rolls her eyes.

“Do you have to be a peace maker between the two of us?” Gigi turns back to me.

“I am not getting in the middle of this,” I tell her, my hands up in the air as if I’ve been accused of a crime.

“Good choice.”

My heart flutters. Every time he talks my heart flutters. I bite back a smile as I catch his eye in the rear-view mirror. A kind eye, a sympathetic eye, a beautiful eye.

“Oh you can stay out of it Mr I only listen to depressing old man music,” Savannah scoffs, lowering her voice an octave or so.

“It’s called being classy,” he says, “you might be unfamiliar with the concept.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t driving,” she grumbles.

“And I would easily dodge,” Grayson replies.

“Guys were making y/n uncomfortable,” Gigi pipes up suddenly.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly and insanely awkwardly.

“She’s seen us fight before Gigi,” Savannah scowls, probably still bitter about the playlist comment.

“Not like this,” she replies, “let’s all just stop, I want a nice day.”

Silence hits us like a bus. A massive double decker bus. No one speaks for a full twenty minutes. The silence is awkward and uncomfortable and I don’t think anyone knows how to break it. All I know is I’m definitely not going to be the one to break it. Suddenly it becomes apparent that Grayson flicks the radio on, as music starts to play.

The drive is mostly smooth sailing from there and conversations pick up here and there. None of which have remotely argumentative undertones, thank the lords. Though at various points Gigi would stick her head out of the window, scream or sing, and then Grayson would tell her off for being so dangerous and explain how worrying it was. I think it is adorable, personally but I think I’m a little bias. Savannah talks a bit about her upcoming basketball tournament, it’s an important season apparently and me and Gigi agree to make every game. But unfortunately for me, the person who spoke the least was Grayson.

***

When we finally arrive at the beach and park the car, we all get out stretching our stiff limbs. That’s when I take Gigi’s arm and drag her off to the side, talking in a low enough tone so no one else can hear us. I want answers and I want them fast.

“You didn’t think to tell me!” I hiss.

“It needed to be a surprise,” she replies, knowing exactly what I’m talking about.

“I don’t like surprises,” I tell her.

“How can you not like surprises!” she exclaims, looking slightly offended.

“Gigi why would you do this?” I sigh, getting back on track.

“I’m trying to help you out,” she says.

“This isn’t helping me out, it’s going to be awkward,” I groan.

“Just talk to him,” Gigi shrugs, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I can’t, I actually can’t,” I explain.

“You’re going to,” she orders, “today.”

“Gigi, no.” I reply, a warning undertone laced into my voice.

“y/n yes, “she says firmly, “you know nothings ever going to change if you don’t make it happen.”

“Why isn’t he trying to make it happen?” I retort, arms folded.

“Because you’re not and he might think you’re uninvested,” she suggests.

“And what if he’s uninvested,” I press on.

“I don’t think he is,” Gigi tells me, “but it’s the best way to find out.”

“Gigi!” I exclaim, almost slapping her arm.

“Look if anything just have fun okay, we’re at a beach,” she shrugs.

She had done all of this for me, to help me and my sorry excuse for a love life out. And I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful but this is probably the worst thing for my love life right now. I couldn’t pull myself together around him. He makes me so nervous, so self conscious… but I suppose now I have no choice.

“You two coming?” Savannah shouts over her shoulder.

“Yeah!” I reply, beginning to walk over.

Gigi follows and we make it to the boot of the car. I look for my bag but can’t seem to find it. I do a double take but still can’t seem to spot it.

I begin to ask, “where did my-“

“I’ve got it.”

Tingles run down my spine. I don’t understand how just his voice can do this to me. It’s not normal. I turn around to see Grayson carrying several bags in his hands including mine. Our eye meet suddenly and I want to say so many thing yet each set of words just die in my throat.

“You don’t have to-“ I say.

“It’s okay,” Grayson replies.

“Seriously I don’t mind,” I reassure him, extending my hand out.

“I’ll carry it down for you,” he tells me.

“Are you sure?”

“Very,” he responds, a kindness in his eyes.

“It’s kind of heavy though,” I say, recalling how much I’d shoved into one tiny bag.

“All the more reason for you not to break your shoulder carrying it,” he grins at me.

“What if you break yours?” I say tilting my head to the side.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he shrugs simply.

I gape, wide-eyed, very tempted to ask for more details on the story but before I can he continues.

“Besides it would be worth it.”

I think I almost faint, I feel my knees go slightly weak. I really hope he meant it how I thought he meant it. It would be worth it, worth breaking his shoulder… for me? It is stupid, it’s utterly stupid that I’m overanalysing five stupid words. I shake my head and collect myself.

“Can we get coffee?” Gigi skips along the pathway.

“No,” Grayson says almost immediately.

“I fancy some too though,” Savannah says, “y/n?”

“I could do with some coffee,” I agree.

“Three over one,” Gigi says in a sing-song tone, booping the tip of her brother’s nose.

“You’re getting decaf,” Grayson tells her, sternly.

They continue a little argument, backs and forth like a ping pong game. Me and Savannah share a look stifling our giggles behind our hands. As we walk behind, I admire Grayson. I can’t help it. He radiates this beauty, that’s so addictive that is struggle to look away. I’m still so embarrassed he felt the need to carry my things… was it just a nice gesture or did he think I was weak or maybe I was just reading too much into the whole affair. My mind races with so many different thoughts, so fast and so hard I’m beginning to get a headache.

We arrive outside a drinks place and find a place to sit down. After the long drive there’s nothing more I wanted than a cold coffee. Not to mention I’d forgotten to make my morning cup this morning. My mind finally decides to slow down to a dull humming. A waitress comes over and takes our orders and I notice Grayson telling her quietly to make sure Gigi’s was decaf as her and Savannah get into deep conversation.

Then Grayson turns to me, “you know they’re starting to show old movies at the movie theatre on Saturday nights.”

“Oh that’s so cool,” I reply.

“This weekend the 1940s version of Pride and Prejudice is being screened,” he tells me.

“No way!” I exclaim my eyes wide with excitement.

He nods, with a small smile. The waitress comes around with the coffees and as soon as she’s gone I return the conversation.

“I just finished it yesterday,” I explain to him.

“And…” he asks, prompting me.

I pause for a moment and then say, “I’m conflicted.”

“And why is that?” he wonders aloud.

“Because I loved every second of it and now it’s just over,” I groan, “gone. I can never relive the first time again.”

“You can’t relive the first time but you can relive the moment again,” he says, “and it’s not over forever.”

“How so?” I reply.

“Stories shall forever continue in our minds and as long as we have the power to tell them they never really go anywhere,” Grayson says, almost wistfully.

“Huh…” I murmur, trailing off slightly, “I’d never thought of it like that before.”

“You guys should go together,” comes Gigi’s voice, surprising me quite suddenly.

“What?” I ask, more quickly and loudly than I’d intended.

“The Pride and Prejudice movie one Saturday,” she clarifies, “you both seem really into it.”

Grayson looks slightly alarmed and replies, “I’m sure y/n is very busy and I don’t want to pressure her into-“

“No I’m free, completely free,” I cut him off. I mentally face palm as I realise how horribly obvious that sounded. Gigi shoots me a knowing grin which I choose to kindly ignore.

“Oh… then would you like to go with me this Saturday?” Grayson asks, looking me dead in the eye.

His eyes are so distracting if the question hadn’t been so important I most likely would’ve forgotten how to answer.

“I would love to,” I smile, trying not to sound too eager.

We lock into this trance of staring at one another. Magnetised by our eyes, unable to be the first to look away. The smile on my lips was beginning to make my jaw ache but I didn’t cadre stop. Only an idiot would give up a moment like this.

“Hey y/n, I need the bathroom, come with me real quick?” Gigi asks, prodding my shoulder.

“Of course,” I nod, grabbing my bag, finally tearing my gaze away.

“We’ll get set up down at the beach,” Savannah says, nodding to Grayson.

“What about the coffees?” Gigi pouts.

“We’ll take them, don’t worry,” Savannah rolls her eyes with a smile.

As soon as we’re out of earshot and view, Gigi holds my hands a squeals and so do I. After little jumping up and down, hugging and screaming and a lot of weird looks we take a second to absorb what just happened.

“I’m going to a movie with Grayson this Saturday,” I finally say it out loud, the reality actually hitting me for the first time. I didn’t realise how in shock I’d been until now.

“It’s basically a date,” Gigi says.

“Literally,” I shrug, ignoring we’re completely delusional.

“I think he likes you,” she sings, giggling a little.

“That’s because you want it to happen,” I sigh.

“No I saw him looking at you,” she tells me.

“Well yeah, I was speaking to him,” I deadpan.

“No, when you weren’t looking at him dummy!” she exclaims, rolling her eyes melodramatically.

“You sure?” I ask her, my voice small and uncertain.

She nods enthusiastically.

“Gigi I can’t thank you enough,” I gush, a sudden surge of gratitude coming over me.

“Why?” she replies, looking very confused.

“You literally made it happen, you’re the reason I’m going out with him on Saturday,” I explain, suddenly regretting being so mad at her earlier for inviting Grayson as a surprise.

“All in a days work,” she winks at me.

“I will name my firstborn child after you, to show my gratitude,” I say.

“Awwwwhhh a little Gigi Hawthorne,” she says, putting her hand over her chest.

“A little Gigi Hawthorne.” I confirm, “hopefully anyway.”

We decide that we probably should get back to the others now and make our way down onto the beach together, laughing so hard we struggle to keep ourselves up right or walk in remotely straight lines. People give us strange looks but our bellies are aching and our lungs are dying far too much for us to care.

“Can you see them?” I ask, short of breath from wheezing.

“No…” Gigi says, giggling.

“Oh there’s Grayson,” I say, spotting our beach towels and umbrellas set up, with Grayson lying under them.

“Of course you spotted him,” she teases me.

“Shut up!” I exclaim, slapping her arm.

She laughs again as we make our way towards a very shirtless Grayson. I mean I’d seen him without a shirt before but today it was just different. The sun bounces off of his skin at a perfect angle, and the crown of blonde hair on his head glows.

“Quit gawking,” Gigi snaps me out of my trance, “that’s still my brother you know.”

“I am not gawking,” I hiss at her.

“Oh please, there’s drool running down the side of your mouth,” she tells me, pointing.

“Really?” I ask, self consciously wipe the side of my mouth.

Gigi winks at me laughing. I roll my eyes, unamused and slap the side of her arm.

“You’re not funny,” I say.

“I think that was hilarious,” she grins.

Grayson now spots us and waves us over. We both walk a little faster towards him. Savannah and Grayson had clearly already set up the umbrellas and beach towels perfectly, though I couldn’t see Savannah with him.

“What’s got you so smiley Gigi?” he asks, as we approach.

“Oh nothing,” she sing songs, smiling at me, “where’s Savannah?”

“I think she went to go and hire a surf board,” he explains.

“Ooooo I want to do that!” Gigi says, jumping up and down with excitement.

“It’s over there,” he points her into the right direction.

“Coming?” she turns to me.

“Yeah I’ll pass,” I scoff, imagining what an idiot I’d make of myself on a surf board.

“You’d be missing out,” Gigi tells me, poking my stomach.

“I’ll settle for missing out this time,” I reply.

“Okay then,” she shrugs.

Gigi rushes to take off her shirt and shorts, ready in her bathing suit and promptly runs off, far too excitedly as I sit myself down on a beach towel beside Grayson. I offer him a small smile which he returns with a wider one. I quickly look away as I shed my shirt and shorts, leaving me feeling very exposed in my bathing suit. When I look back towards him, I’m aware that he too has looked away. My cheeks heat up at the thought of him being so gentlemanly as to give me some privacy. I begin to rustle around in my bag in search for my sunscreen when a familiar voice freezes me in my tracks.

“Hey,” Grayson says.

I look up, happy I can now use sunburn as an excuse for my flushed cheeks, “hi.”

“How have you been?” he asks me shyly.

“Okay actually, yeah,” I nod, “how have you been, I haven’t seen you in a while?”

“Yeah I’ve been with my brothers a bit,” he explains.

“All okay?” I make sure.

He nods, “more than okay. My older brother is getting married.”

“Oh my gosh that’s amazing,” I beam.

He smiles, “they’re planning it for three months time.”

I put a hand over my heart, “that’s going to be lovely.”

“Yeah, he has a wonderful fiancée and I think he’ll be really happy,” he tells me, a real brightness in his eyes when he talks about them. It warms my heart.

“I’m glad,” I reply.

We fall into a silence and I grab the sunscreen out of my bag and begin to apply.

“Do you need some help?”

It takes everything in me to not let my jaw drop. I freeze mid movement and don’t know what to do with myself. There are fireworks going off in my brain and my heart is close to exploding.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I mumble shyly, looking down.

“Of course not,” he smiles, holding out his hand for the bottle.

I pass it to him and turn around, delicately moving my hair out of the way. I feel his hands soothingly rub the liquid in, you’d think he was a professional masseuse. He’s so gentle and careful with my skin. I’m so glad he can’t see my face right now because I don’t think I’ve ever been more red.

“Sorry,” I say quietly.

“Why are you apologising?” he asks, as his hand slips under my strap.

I bite back a gasp to answer his question, “because you have to rub sunscreen into my back.”

“I didn’t realise it was an offensive affair,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You know what I mean,” I smile.

“I’m not sure I do,” he says, pressing for me to carry on.

“Is it not awkward for you?” I ask.

“No, I’m helping a friend out, nothing awkward about that,” he replies and I can hear the shrug in his tone.

Friend. The word echoed through my brain bouncing off every surface. It would torture me at every waking hour, replaying like a broken record. He said ‘friend’. But how else was he meant to word it, how else would I have worded it. But if he felt the same way to me as I did to him would he have still said ‘friend’. Why am I like this? Analysing every second word the guy says. I need to stop driving myself insane.

“I suppose,” I say, trying to not let my disappointment shine through as I turn back around to face him.

He hands me back the bottle, “about earlier, if you felt pressured into Saturday I’m not going to be offended if you don’t want to go.”

“No I do, really,” I say, “why? Did you not want to?”

And suddenly I was on edge, that ‘friend’ comment had really thrown me off and now I was second guessing everything he mentioned.

“No, I absolutely did,” he tells me, an honest look in his eyes, “but I was just making sure.”

“Thanks,” I smile sweetly.

I’m about to continue when Gigi appears in front of me, out of breath and slightly wet.

“What happened to surf boards?” I ask her, shielding my eyes from the sun.

“I fell off too many times and gave up,” she shrugs, “so you’re coming in the water with me now.”

“No I’m okay here,” I say, forcing a small laugh.

Gigi doesn’t even bother replying and instead grabs my arms and pulls me forwards, breaking out into a full on sprint towards the water. I try to drag her back but I’m too weak from laughing so hard, it’s like all of my limbs have gone to jelly.

“And now we go in,” she says, gripping onto my hands tighter.

“It’s gonna be cold!” I whine, taking a few steps back.

“Oh shush, you don’t know until you try,” she scolds me, bringing me back forwards.

I dip a my foot in and immediately retract, “I’ve tried, it’s cold.”

“Come in a little,” she pouts, “for me.”

I groan and oblige. After a few steps in I decide it isn’t as bad as I’d thought until we’re about thigh deep, then I want to turn around.

“No you can’t, we’re barely even in yet!” Gigi exclaims.

“I’m in enou-“

I don’t get to finish my sentence as I’m cut off by my own scream on surprise promptly followed by a face full of water. Trust Gigi to push me in. Before I come back up to breathe, I swim underneath her and tackle her legs so she too topples over. When I get to the surface I’m soaking and salty and highly unamused in contrast with Gigi’s bright eyes and giggles.

“See, wasn’t that fun?” she grins at me.

“No, I’m wet,” I grit through my teeth, trying to hide a smile.

“Well duh… it’s the sea,” she tells me.

I roll my eyes and the put a hand up to block out the sun’s glare. But two people catch my eye.

“Is that Savannah and… Grayson?” I question.

Two heads of golden hair, contrasting with the blue of the ocean, ride on surf boards, tackling waves with smiles on their faces. They look more like siblings than usual.

“Is he surfing? Did you know he could surf? He looks like a professional,” I babble suddenly.

“I didn’t know he could surf,” she says, “then again Gray can probably do any sport ever.”

“He definitely knows how to surf,” I reply, not being able to tear my eyes away from his precision and focus.

“Is that a green flag for you,” she teases, “are you into the surfer boys?”

“Oh put a sock in it,” I laugh, pushing her into the water.

She comes back up gasping for air and laughing, “hey!”

“Payback,” I shrug, “and I’ll do it again if you don’t shut it about my love life.”

“You were thanking me earlier,” Gigi grumbles at me.

“Not anymore,” I sing.

“So bipolar,” she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Shhhh I’m trying to watch!” I say, my eyes still fixated on Grayson.

“You mean stare at his abs,” she raises her eyebrow.

“Well they’re really nice too,” I reply, giving up on being in denial.

She wrinkles her nose, “my brother right there.”

“Hey you brought up the abs thing,” I defend.

“Because you’re staring at them!” she exclaims, looking very disgusted.

Before I can reply to her Grayson catches my eye and for a moment it’s just him there and no one else. He beckons me over with a hand.

“Was that at me?” I whisper to Gigi.

“Who else is he signilling at?” she asks.

We turn around simultaneously and see an old man behind us with a snorkel on. He shoots us a dirty look and we turn around, barely keeping it together. As soon as our eyes meet we start absolutely dying with laughter.

“I think it’s safe to say it’s you,” Gigi wheezes, holding her belly.

“I’m going to swim over,” I say once I’ve pulled myself back together.

“I thought you didn’t like the sea,” she challenges me.

“I do now,” I grin at her.

She shakes her head smiling, “I would be mad at you but I really want a Gigi junior.”

“Exactly,” I say, still trying to work out how I’m going to get out of calling my firstborn child Gigi.

“Don’t do anything naughty,” she winks at me, with a cheeky kind of smile.

“Gigi! We’re on a public beach and we’re not even a couple!” I exclaim, reminding her.

“You never know,” she shrugs

“What have you been reading?” I ask her, eyebrows arched and arms folded.

“Never you mind that,” she says, avoiding eye contact.

“Dirty romance again?” I giggle, poking her shoulder.

“Go get yourself a boyfriend,” she says, detracting from the conversation, “he’s waiting.”

I look over to Grayson who still has his gaze fixated on me.

“We’re coming back to this conversation later,” I tell her.

I don’t give her a chance to object as I dive into the water, out of my depth and swim over to Grayson. When I reach him a rest my arms on his surf board, keeping me afloat.

“Since when could you surf?” I look up.

“Since I was about ten,” he tells me, “my grandfather took me and my brothers.”

Beat.

“Come up, here.”

“On the board?” I ask.

He nods and I ungracefully attempt to clamber onto the surf board. I struggle up and the fall right back down, feeling like a world class idiot in front of Grayson.

He smiles softly at me, “need a hand?”

“Nope,” I grunt, slipping once again, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure about that,” he chuckles, his head titled slightly sideways.

“Yes,” I say determinedly and then, “… actually no, can I have some help please?”

“Here,” he laughs, extending his hand, “grab onto my wrist, the grip will be stronger.”

I do as his says, holding on tightly to his wrists, I push upwards as he pulls me towards him. His hand slides around my waist, which was now exposed out of the water and he lifts me up onto the surfboard. Once he’s sure I’m on there, he slowly removes his hands. My waist tingles where his fingers have been and so does my face as it rises in temperature.

“Ever been on a surf board before?” he asks me.

“Is it that obvious?” I grin.

“No,” he laughs kindly.

I give him a look, my eyebrows raised, letting him know he doesn’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.

“Well maybe,” he says, a little sheepishly.

“How come you didn’t surf earlier then?” I ask him. He could’ve gone with Savannah and Gigi to hire a board but he chose not to, which made me curious to say the least.

“I didn’t want to leave you on your own,” Grayson shrugs.

My pulse quickens and my face lights up. But I play it cool, or at least I’d like to think I do.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself,” I tell him.

“I know but I didn’t want you to feel alone,” he says. He says it like he actually cares, like I actually mean something to him. And it feels magical.

“Thanks,” I say, “so what are we doing?”

“Paddling out, then we’ll stand up,” he explains.

“You’re joking,” I scoff. There is no way that I could possibly do that.

“The waves are babies on this beach,” he says, gesturing to the seemingly unthreatening waves.

“They’re still waves and may I remind you I’ve never done this before,” I reply, eyeing the water intently.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he murmurs.

“You surprise me with your spontaneity,” I hum in response.

“And you surprise me with your reluctance,” he replies.

“I’m not reluctant!” I defend.

He shoots me a pointed look as I sit there with my arms folded.

“I’m not reluctant,” I sigh before hesitating slightly, “…I’m just scared.”

“You don’t need to be scared,” he tells me, “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen.”

“Okay….” I say hesitantly, “what do we do first?”

“First we need to paddle out, so we have to lay down on the surface board,” he explains, showing me what to do.

I mirror his actions and slowly lay down on my belly beside him, as he lifts an arm and puts it over my shoulders, so he has one hand on each side of the board.

“Feeling good?” he checks.

“Good isn’t quite the word I’d use to describe whatever I’m feeling,” I reply, trying to steady the shake in my voice.

“Okay, now we’re going to paddle out,” he instructs, “you think you want to?”

“Yeah,” I breathe

Slowly and cautiously, feeling a little more comfortable with Grayson by my side, I help paddle out until it feels like we’re in the middle of the ocean. The middle of a vast expanse of salty blue water.

“You see the wave coming up now,” he says, his voice soothing and calm.

I hum in reply.

“We’re going to catch that one,” he explains.

“Okay.”

“I’ll stand first and then I’ll help you.”

I agree. He stands up with ease and good balance, like he’s done it a thousand times before. I presume he has.

“Do you trust me?” Grayson asks.

“Yes,” I say with no hesitation.

“Hold my hands,” he instructs me.

I take his hands in mine and hold them tightly, until my knuckles have gone white and my hand bright red.

“Stand up,” he tells me.

I shake my head, convincing myslef that there are at least eighty different ways to die right this second.

“Stand up, I’ve got you,” he reassures me.

“What if I fall?” I ask worriedly, my voice unfamiliar.

“Then I’ll catch you,” Grayson says, his eyes twinkling.

I stand up, wobbling a little. He catches me by the waist, his palm fitting perfectly in the dip, stabling me. Goosebumps raise on the surface of my skin and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m cold and shocked. Though my face feels a little too heated for it to be blamed on the cold.

“Spread your arms out,” he tells me.

I slowly spread my arms out and his hands don’t leave my waist. It’s my very own titanic moment, though I hope if this is going anywhere it doesn’t have the same end result. And suddenly it’s just him and me in the middle of the ocean alone on a surf board and nothing and no one else matters.

“Ready?” he say into my ear.

“Ready.”

The wave is not a big as I’d thought it would be and we easily ride it. I even find myself laughing and slightly enjoying myself. That lasted for the grand total of five whole second. Then I slip off into the water. I’m quick to kick my way to the surface and grab ahold of the surfboard. Grayson is on his knees looking a little pale, worry lines creasing his forehead.

“Are you okay?” he rushes, lifting me up onto the surfboard.

“Yeah,” I cough, sea water residue in my mouth.

“Are you sure?” he asks worriedly, checking my pulse, vision, hearing and mobility. He placed a gentle finger under my chin and tips my head back.

“I’m sure,” I chuckle, tilting my head back forwards, “but I think that’s enough surfing for me.”

“Understandable,” he nods, dropping his hand, “come on, let’s get back onto shore.”

Together we paddle back to shore, our bodies so close to each others it’s making me nervous. We spot Gigi waiting on the beach for us, looking excited. Before we get there Grayson turns his head towards me.

“You know I’m proud of you,” he says.

“Proud?” I ask trying to focus on the conversation and not how close our faces were.

“You gave surfing a go,” he says, “even though you were scared.”

“Well I had a good teacher,” I murmur, our noses almost touching.

“Thanks,” he smiles and… did he just blush?! I shake the idea out of my head, it’s probably just the lighting or sunburn.

We drift back onto the sand and Gigi runs up to us, beaming, “I found a crab and made friends.”

I shiver, “a crab?”

“He’s cute!” she exclaims

“He?” I ask.

“I’ve names him Bubblez with a ‘z’ at the end and I’m emotionally attached,” she tells me.

She looks at Grayson, her eyes wide and hopeful. A pleading look on her face.

“You’re not keeping the crab as a pet,” Grayson deadpans.

“How did you know I was going to ask?” she groans.

“Because you tried to adopt eight stray kittens and two stray dogs in the last month,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Gigi replies but I don’t hear the rest of the conversation as someone grabs my attention.

“Hey y/n! Help me drag my board in!” Savannah hollers at me.

My brow furrow, Savannah doesn’t ask for help. Ever. Let alone to pull in a surf board, something I knew she’d done a thousand times and was plenty strong enough to do herself. I know something is up, I just can’t figure out what.

“Meet you back at the umbrellas,” I smile at Grayson.

“See you there,” he replies.

I walk over and grab one side of Savannah’s board, waiting for her to say something.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” she hisses, her voice low, almost dangerous.

“Me too,” I shrug, not even bother to hide it from her anymore.

“y/n!” she exclaims.

“Savannah!” I mock her back.

She rolls her eyes and tugs the board sighing, “please think it through.”

“That’s what I told you about Duncan and you didn’t,” I snap back

She flinches, like I’ve hit her across the face. She drops her side of the board so I drop mine. Guilt floods through me, but I push it back. This needs to be addressed. She readjusts herself and holds her head high.

“It’s different,” she says, trying to mask the tremor in her voice and failing.

“No it’s not,” I counter.

“Yes it is,” she insists, her eyes fiery.

“Grayson is a good person, he cares about you and Gigi-“

“How would you know?” she snaps, cutting me off.

“Because he’s told me,” I yell, “when he talks about you two his whole face lights up.”

She looks taken aback and loses her words for a minute so I take the opportunity to continue.

“He’s kind and gentle, why is it so bad that I want someone like that?” I ask her.

“Because…” she falters, “because if you break up whose side do I take.”

“Hold your horses there, we’re not even together,” I try to smile.

“Hypothetically then,” she says.

“His,” I shrug, “and I’d understand, he’s family.”

“So are you.”

My heart swells and a lump forms in my throat. I’d always been close to Gigi, we’d been like sisters from the start but Savannah and I took a lot of warming up before we became closer. We butt heads often, both being strong characters. Never once did I think she viewed me like a sister. I never thought I was of that importance to her, that significance in her life. But the fact that she does really hit me hard. And now I’m the one who’s lost her words.

“And I don’t want him to steal you from me,” she murmurs, her eyes a little glossy.

“Oh Sav,” I say, wrapping my arms around her, “you think I’d let him?”

“Love makes you do stupid things,” she chokes, “I should know.”

“Then if I do I give you full permission to slap me until i come to my senses,” I joke.

“Okay,” she laughs, wiping a few stray tears away.

“Come on,” I say, picking up my side of the board, “the others will be wondering about us.”

She nods and lifts the board as we begin walking again in a comfortable silence.

“y/n?” she says quietly, gently, almost carefully.

“Yeah?”

“I am really happy you like Grayson and if you guys do ever get together, I would be very happy for you,” she says, “I want you to know that.”

“Thank you,” I smile, “I still think you can do better than Duncan, but if you love him I’m behind you. Except if he treats you like dirt, then I’ll take him bungee jumping without the rope.”

She giggles a little and then grows serious, “he’s good enough to me.”

I don’t want to argue anymore so leave it at that. But my mind is screaming ‘is good enough, really enough?’ I’d have the conversation another day, I decide. We trek back up the beach to Gigi and Grayson who are sunbathing on the beach towels. As we approach Gigi sits up and flicks her sunglasses onto her head.

“What took you so long?” she calls.

“I’m like a donkey with mitten and couldn’t keep hold of the board,” I lie.

“Classic y/n,” she winks playfully.

“Hey!” I complain.

“I practically dragged the whole thing up here single handedly,” Savannah adds.

“Did not,” I mutter.

“I was thinking we should all go for ice cream,” Gigi says, “they have this ice cream bar where you can add as many toppings as you like for free.”

“I didn’t see that when we walked to the beach,” Grayson replied a, joining the conversation.

“Well you obviously have no priorities then,” his sister responds, offended and shocked.

“Priorities?” he questions.

“Beach priority number one, always look for the best ice cream spot,” she exclaims, “you should know this! Have I taught you nothing?”

“The only thing you’ve taught me is to not give you coffee or any drink that is remotely caffeinated,” he says and I try not to laugh.

“Talk to the hand,” Gigi grumbles at him, thrusting her palm into his face, then turning to me and Savannah, “now who’s coming for ice cream?”

“I’m in,” she shrugs.

“Same here,” I nod.

“I’ll come too,” Grayson sighs, but part of me think he actually wants to come.

Her face lights up and she jumps up excitedly, “yay, let’s go!”

We all walk back up the beach, following Gigi who is practically sprinting to show us the way. We eventually reach a little establishment she takes us into. It’s cool inside and all of the walls are brightly coloured, so much so it hurts my eyes a little. There’s every ice cream flavour one could imagine and even more toppings to choose from. Gigi looks like she’s in heaven. I grab a scoop of my favourite flavour and moderately top it with a few bits and pieces I liked the look of before I went and paid. I notice Grayson already standing there with his cone.

“Wow I didn’t pin you as a vanilla kind of guy,” I comment, my eyebrow raised in surprise as I analyse and severely judge his ice cream choices.

“What did you pin me as then?” he says, the corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly.

“I don’t know something like coffee or rum and raisin,” I shrug.

“Do you think I’m a sixty year old man?” he asks.

I laugh, almost choking on my own ice cream, “no, I just thought you had…“ I struggle for the right words, “…refined taste.”

“Saved yourself there,” he teases, “that was a close one.”

I poke my tongue out at him and then realise that maybe that was a little too comfortable of me. But he’s laughing so I take it as a good sign. As Gigi finishes paying for her extremely colourful icecream cone, she links arms with me and begins to tell me all about the extravagant flavours and extras she’s topped the ice cream with.

***

The four of us walk down the beach, eating our ice creams. Most of the way it is silent, with odd pockets of random conversation dotted about the place. Then we lay on the beach for hours, sunbathing, sleeping, just being. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while. Occasionally one or two of us would leave to take another dip into the sea. Gigi and I are lying on a towel playing with the sand on either side of us, letting it tickle our fingertips as we gossip about school drama and hot celebrities. Though I don’t think there’s any celebrity I could’ve found to rival Grayson Hawthorne right now. I mean he’s just sat there looking gorgeous. How could someone be doing so little and still looking so gorgeous? I can’t wait to tell Gigi about all the things that had happened between us today, I’m practically ready to burst.

“Can we stay until sunset?” I ask, leaning my cheek on Gigi’s shoulder, “we have to see this beach at sunset.”

“We can stay until sunset,” she replies.

“What do we do now then?” Savannah asks.

“What we’re doing is fine,” I shrug.

“We’re not doing anything,” she says, bored.

The thing about Savannah is, she needs to move, like all of the time. The art of doing nothing and just relaxing, Savannah did not enjoy. I made a small bet with myself that she was going to suggest we okay a sport soon.

“Precisely,” I smile, lying back down, closing my eyes,

“What about a game of volleyball?” she suggests.

Won the bet then.

“That sounds good,” Gigi agrees.

“I’ll play,” I say, sitting back up and trying not to sound as halfhearted as I was.

“Gray?” Savannah asks.

“Alright,” he nods.

“Good you’re on my team,” she says.

“Hey! No fair!” Gigi exclaims immediately.

“Ouch Gigi,” I mumble.

“Sorry but we have to face the facts here,” she says with a hand up, “when’s the last time you played volleyball?”

“I don’t know,” I respond.

“Exactly our problem,” she says, “Grayson probably has a secret volleyball career and-“

“I do not,” Grayson interrupts her, sharply.

“And Savannah is good at all sports, our odds aren’t really looking good,” Gigi continues, completely ignoring Grayson’s comment.

“Then let’s just have fun,” I reply.

“Okay,” she grins at me, then looks to the other two and narrows her eyes, “prepare to go down!”

“Pssstt, Gigi,” I whisper-yell so the other can still hear, “I thought you just said we’re going to lose.”

“But we can lose with confidence,” she replies, optimistically.

I shake my head laughing, “you serve first then.”

***

After several volleyball matches of the other two beating us in every game bar one, which Gigi and I would not shut up about, we sit and watch the sunset, per my request. I sit on my beach towel in between Grayson and Gigi staring at the sky covered in shades of pink, orange and yellow.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” I sigh.

“It is,” Grayson murmurs.

I glance towards him and he quickly looks away. Gigi nudges me and I turn to her, there’s a smile plastered on her face. I jerk my eyebrows together asking her to explain. She mouths ‘he was looking at you’. My eyes mirror the size of saucers as I silently ask her if she’s sure. She nods and my heart thumps loudly against my rib cage.

***

It’s only when the sun starts setting down and the sky is a little dark that someone suggests we pack up and head back to the car. By the time we finally reach the car the sky is fully dark and only lit with little twinkling stars.

“I’ll drive,” Grayson offers, once we’ve stuffed the boot full of our things.

“No you drove on the way here, so it’s my turn now,” Savannah says, nicking the keys.

“I call shotgun!” Gigi yells quickly.

I did the math. Me and Grayson were in the back together. Matchmaker Gigi strikes again. I open the door to sit down but before I can get in the seat Gigi dumps the sandy beach bag on the left seat.

“You wouldn’t mind sitting in the middle right?” she asks, loud enough for the others to hear.

In the middle. Right next to Grayson. Of course. I don’t know whether to smile or dread the experience, so I do both.

“Not at all,” I reply, situating myself in the middle seat.

I fumble around with my seatbelt to avoid eye contact with Grayson. Our bare legs are touching, sending the butterflies in my stomach fluttering and tumbling all over the place. Savannah start to drive and the bumps in the road just mean the two of us keep accidentally knocking each other. I try and hide the blush that keeps blossoming darker each time we touch but eventually give up. Another jolt, another spark of electricity shoots across my body. But by about twenty minutes into the drive exhaustion catches up on me, binding my mind together like some sort of kidnapper. I can feel my eyes drooping down and my head lolling to one side.

“Are you tired?” Grayson murmurs.

My heart throbs my chest, so much so I could hear the beating in my ears. I look up into his pools of grey and I nod, yawning a little.

“Lean on me,” he whispers.

“What?” I blurt out, as soon as I’ve processed the three words. I practically jump out of my seat, suddenly awake and alert, my eyes wide in shock.

“Lean on me,” he repeats, just as softly as before.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, still trying to mask my pure shock.

“Would I have asked if I wasn’t?” he replies smoothly.

“Thanks,” I say with a small smile.

Hesitantly I rest my head on his shoulder and attempt to relax. I breathe in. He smells divine. The cotton shirt he wears is so soft against my skin. He places his head on top of mine and I feel reality begin to slip away as darkened swallows me whole.

***

A jolt awakes me, but not fully as I’m still groggy. Even thought I’m half asleep I’m very aware I’m leaning on Grayson Hawthorne. I can smell him.

“Where are we?” I murmur sleepily.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, “we’re quite far from home.”

Comfortably situated, resting on Grayson, I listen I his soothing voice as my eyes slowly lull themselves shut again and sleep becomes my captor for the next couple of hours.

***

I wake up disoriented and confused. I’m no longer in the car. I can feel that my face is pressed up against someone’s chest. I open my eyes and realise that I’m in Grayson’s arms, bridal style.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, suddenly sitting up.

This puts Grayson off balance and I begin to fall to the ground very ungracefully. Luckily he catches my waist just before I hit the ground. His hands are strong and steady on the small of my back.

“Sorry,” I murmur embarrassed, as he helps me back up, his hands only dropping from my waist when I’m upright and completely stable. They linger for a little longer than necessary but I’m not complaining.

“No, my apologies I didn’t mean to drop you,” he says.

“If you didn’t I think you’d have a broken wrist,” I reply, “so it’s a good job you did.”

“Gigi suggested I carry you in as you were asleep,” he explains suddenly.

“Did she now?” I say, almost smiling. What would I do without my Gigi?

He nods and then passes me my key, “she found them in your bag.”

“Good to know my best friend respects my privacy and dignity,” I grin, a little sarcasm playing on my tongue.

“Of course,” Grayson plays along.

“Well thanks for letting me use your shoulder as a pillow and for carrying me to the door,” I say, a little awkwardly.

“No problem,” he smiles, “should I pick you up from here on Saturday?”

“Are you sure?” I ask him, “I don’t want it to be any trouble, I can just take the bus.”

“Of course I’m sure,” he nods, “maybe we could go to dinner together before?”

“I’d like that very much,” I beam, my cheeks heating up.

“I’ll get Gigi to pass me on your number incase I need to contact you,” Grayson suggests.

“Yes, I’ll get her to do the same for me,” I agree.

“Got any books on the go since Pride and Prejudice?” he asks me, continuing the conversation, making me very happy.

“Haven’t had a chance,” I sigh.

“Think you can wait another day to start one?” he asks me.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he grins, “but can you?”

“I think so,” I say sceptically, “what do you have planned?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, a little mischievously.

“When Gigi says that I get scared,” I laugh.

“Well I’m not Gigi,” he replies, “I’ll see you Saturday then.”

“See you on Saturday.”

a/n: I AM SOOOO SORRY. I don’t even know why this took me 12 billion years to write but it is finally here and for anyone reading this I really appreciate your patience with me. I hope you enjoyed PART 3 and you guessed it… PART 4 is in the works!! Hopefully that one will take a bit less time

I didn’t realise how long this part was until I’d written it. I actually had to cut PART 3 in half because it was so long but hope you enjoyed this!! Thanks for reading my loves 🤍🤍 this fic is the only thing keeping me sane waiting for TGG

btw I know nothing about surfing or surf boards so don’t come at me.

and a quick thank you to anyone who participated in my little Grayson icecream poll, you’ll notice the results have been put to good use… though I don’t personally agree that it would be vanilla.

TIG masterlist

#grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #tig #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #the inheritance games #gigi grayson #savannah grayson

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thefallennightmare · 10 months

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One Night: Noah's POV-one

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Noah's POV of his one night with Reader.

Authors Note: As previously mentioned, this is basically the same storyline as before just in Noah's POV! As of right now, it'll will be in three parts but might change.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans

I sat on the couch with my hands clasped tightly together, knuckles turning white with anger. My knee continuously bounced as my breathing became uneven and unsteady.

Jolly nodded towards me. “You alright?”

I made a low noise in response but kept my eyes trained hard at a stain on the carpet of the green room, not wanting to talk to anyone. With what I found out yesterday, all I saw was red but did my best to keep my anger in check especially around the guys. It wasn’t their fault, so they didn’t deserve to me on the receiving end of my own personal bullshit.

“Are you going to be like this the entire time Britt and her friend are here?” Nick asked with a sigh.

“Wait, what?” I raised a brow, finally taking my eyes off the floor.

Nick rolled his eyes as he went back to setting up his tattoo gun. “I told you Britt is coming by tonight so I can finish her tattoo and I invited her and her friend to stay for the show.”

My shoulders fell at the mention of his cousin.

“No offense, Nick, but I’m not in the mood for your cousin trying to play matchmaker for me tonight.”

“Oh, come on,” Folio spoke up while coming out of the bathroom. “You’re still blaming that on her?”

I scoffed while cracking my knuckles. “Because it worked out so well last time.”

The room when quiet, them already knowing what I meant, so I didn’t have to explain; again.

Folio ran a hand over his face. “Well, can you not take it out on her? I don’t want things to be awkward tonight.”

I knew his feelings for Britt and understood that he didn’t want my problems and issues to ruin what he had planned for them tonight. Which was fine, I didn’t plan on hanging out in here once they arrived.

A boisterous laugh echoed into the room through the door and as we all stared at each other, my shoulders went stiff. Hearing that laugh made something twinge inside my gut in the best way.

“They must be here,” Nick muttered while heading towards the door.

He stood with his back to me as he welcomed the two girls on the other side of the door. “Nice to meet you.”

A soft, angelic voice carried into the room, and my heart stopped for the briefest of moments. “You too.”

“Alright, I’m almost set up. Come on in,” Nick motioned for them to follow him into the room.

Dark eyes followed Britt as she walked in alone until reluctantly, someone else followed, and when her full form stepped into my line of sight, I sucked in a breath. Hair cascaded down to her shoulders as she stood still, almost like a statue. I watched with curious eyes as she rubbed her hands up and down her thighs.

“And Mr. Antisocial over there is Noah,” Britt’s voice snapped me out of my accessing gaze. “Noah, this is Y/N.” Britt introduced us.

Y/N.

I repeated her name in my mind over and over, wanting to know how it sounded on my tongue but refused. I couldn’t allow myself to fall so hard; not again.

But that didn’t stop my eyes from grazing over every inch of Y/N, from her feet all the way to her eyes where I held her gaze. They shined with their own curiosity and I swore when her lips twitched; I felt my stomach flip before letting out a low hum, dropping my gaze back to the floor.

“You’ll have to ignore him,” Jolly said. “He found out yesterday that an ex of his cheated on him when they were together so he’s a bit upset.”

My eyes snapped over to him as a low scowl pulled on my lips. I didn’t need for Britt and Y/N to know my personal business.

“And you’ll have to excuse Y/N,” Britt spoke as she grabbed Y/N’s elbow to pull her towards the other couch in the room. “She doesn’t get out of the house much since her break up so she seems to forget how to socialize.”

She glared at Britt. “Fuck you.”

The corner of my lips curled up in a small smile as I shifted on the couch, hands now resting on my knee’s as I watched them sit across from me, Britt rolling up her pants so Nick could tattoo her. Jolly came to sit next to me and while Britt talked with her friend in a hushed conversation, he elbowed my side.

“You’re staring,” he muttered under his breath.

I rolled my eyes while running a hand through my hair. “No. I’m not.”

“You can lie, Noah. But remember I see everything,” Jolly smirked.

“Whatever,” I grumbled under my breath before going back to aimless browsing though my phone.

Jesse texted me earlier to let me know Rhea came by earlier to grab her things that she kept at my place. It only took her four months to pick up the box that sat by the back door that entire time. I sent her one text after the breakup to let her know that her shit was ready to get picked up, one she ignored. It was a box full of her clothes, makeup, and other random things she had scattered in my house.

“Well they always say, in order to get over someone it’s best to get under someone new.”

I looked up through lashes as Y/N shifted in her position with Britt’s words. While everyone agreed with her words, I let them linger in my mind for a few seconds longer than I should have. According to Britt, Y/N needed help to get over someone.

I know how that goes.

As if she felt me staring, Y/n’s eyes locked with mine and I swear I felt all my breath leave me with how intense the connection felt. My eyes darted from hers, down to her plump lips that were parted as she took deep breaths. Reluctantly I darted my gaze away as Britt scolded her for something.

“He cheated on you, Y/N. Multiple times,” Britt deadpanned.

I bit the inside of my cheek as my own personal problems crept its way back into my mind. Clearly, both Y/N and I were dealing with the same issues.

“I’m not going to look at your nudes, Y/N. Give me your phone,” Britt repeated with a bit more force in her voice.

I shifted in my spot at the thoughts of Y/N having nudes on her phone. Why did this girl who I met less than an hour ago have this effect on me? None of this made sense but I couldn’t stop gazing at her, studying her as she bit her lip, rubbing her hands on her thighs.

“I don’t have any nudes on there,” Y/N said with a slight waver to her voice.

I caught the sideway smirk from Britt to Y/N, a clear indication that she didn’t believe her for one second. Britt worked fast to block this guy from Y/N’s phone before handing it back to her, Britt’s next words giving me pause.

“Because it’s not. Y/N wasted two years of her life with this douchebag. His dick is the only one she’s ever had.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” She groaned burying her face in her hands.

I tensed as I thought of Y/N being with one guy. I didn’t know anything about her but from what I’d been gathering from their conversations and what I noticed under my own curious eyes was that this guy fucked with Y/N’s mind extensively.

After Nick finished the tattoo, Folio took her out of the room when we all felt the sudden tension; but not before making sure Y/N was alright. Folio wanted to have some private time with her so the first opportunity he found, he took it.

“Bryan wants to get some pictures of us for Instagram,” Jolly spoke up after a Nick and Y/N finished their own conversation.

Nick nodded before turning towards me. “Want to tag along?”

For the first time since Y/N arrived in the room, I spoke up. “No, I’m good. Tell Bryan he can get some before we go on.”

Jolly looked from Y/N before back to me. “Is it alright if Y/N hangs out here?”

“If not, I’m sure I can find Britt and crash her date,” She rushed out, clearly not wanting to make me uncomfortable.

My heart pounded loud in my ears and hard in my chest with the thought of being alone with her. My mind was running fast with the idea that’s been stabbing at my brain with Britt’s earlier words: “Well they always say, in order to get over someone it’s best to get under someone new.”

“You can stay,” I shook my head, the first time speaking towards her with some underlining meaning behind it.

She didn’t say anything, simply running her hands over her thighs as Jolly and Nick left the room.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a real ass,” my soft voice echoed in the quiet room after some silence.

Her eyes darted towards me as she corrected me. “Ex.”

The corner of my lips curled up. “Is what Britt said true?”

Y/N shook her head as her one word came out wavered. “About?”

“Your ex was the only one?” I asked while twirling my bracelet between my fingers.

She didn’t say anything as a red hue crossed over her delicate features and I gave a curt nod with her silent answer.

“Maybe Britt was right. I need someone to help get over him,” she muttered while rubbing a hand over her face.

I simply hummed in response to her words, agreeing silently to myself.

“What?” Y/N raised a brow. “You think it’s stupid.”

“I never said that,” I shook my head.

I didn’t miss the way her eyes doubled in size but kept that to myself.

“So you agree with me,” she responded after a moment.

I shrugged. “Britt has said some weird shit the last few years since I’ve been around her but that doesn’t mean she’s not wrong about her advice.”

“You know from experience?” She wondered while crossing her arms over her chest.

Internally, I smirked at the jealousy that oozed out of her, but still let out a low laugh.

“No. Folio’s liked her for a while now, I wouldn’t do that to him. Plus, she’s not my type,” I finished with a shrug as I leaned back into the couch, resting my arm over the back of it.

I watched with intense eyes as she licked her lips before dropping it to the floor “What is your type?”

My eyes flicked up from the floor to her face where I kept it there, silence falling between us. Y/N shifted in her seat while running her hands over her thighs again.

“Do I make you nervous?” I asked suddenly.

I motioned to her hands when she didn’t understand my question, to which she stopped immediately.

“No.”

Clearly a lie.

I hummed as I finally made the decision that I knew no one would understand. Not only did I need a night to forget about Rhea, but Y/N needed to realized that there’s more out there than this asshole of an ex she was hung up on.

It’d had been awhile since I had a release that wasn’t brought on by my hand and from the second Y/N walked into the room, I wanted to have her all to myself; in more ways than one.

“I’ll do it.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped away from grazing over the tattoos on my arms as she shook her head. “Do what?”

My lips parted to speak but her phone rang which made me close them with a tight smile.

She answered it with raised brows. “Hello?”

“Y/N, what the fuck! Why can’t I call you?”

I watched as she froze, face going white, at the deep, demanding voice. “Jacob?”

Ah, the ex.

“What’s going on with your phone?”

I watched intently, arms still spread over the back of the couch, ankle crossed over my knee, as she almost dropped her phone.

“Y/N!”

“What do you want? Why are you calling me?”

“I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour and when my call didn’t go through, I got worried so I borrowed my roommates phone.”

I pursed my lips at how persistent he was.

“I’m fine, Jacob. You didn’t need to call,” Y/N let out an exhausted breath.

“Let me come over. We can watch a movie or fuck.”

I couldn’t stop the way my shoulders went stiff, gaze turning hard while waiting for her answer.

“I, uh,” she stuttered while licking her lips. “I’m not home.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

Immediately, I sat up straight at the tone of voice and beckoned Y/N over with a finger. She tilted her head slightly before shaking it.

“Y/N, come here.” I demanded in not a hushed tone.

“Who are you with? Are you cheating on me?”

Y/N scoffed into the phone, gripping it tight in her hands. “You were the one that cheated. Many times. And every single time, I took you back like a fucking idiot.”

“I don’t like this attitude, Y/N. You were never this mouthy. Although, I remember how great you were with that mouth in other ways.”

A scowl appeared on my lips as I clasped my hands together. It wasn’t jealousy that made me angry. It was the way he was talking with Y/N.

“You’re disgusting,” she scolded.

“There was a point that you didn’t think that. If I recall, you loved how disgusting I was.”

“Oh please. If I loved it so much, wouldn’t you think I would have orgasmed even once?”

As silence came from the phone for the first time since Y/N answered, I gave her an amused smirk before standing abruptly and taking two large steps towards her. Her squeals echoed throughout the small room as I lifted her from the couch to my lap as I sat down.

“What are you doing?” She asked as I gazed up at her.

I gripped her hips tight as my warm breath fanned across her neck, breathing in her scent. My cock twitched underneath her, the simple smell of her driving me wild.

“You faked it?”

Jacob’s voice brought both of us back to the phone conversation and when I noticed Y/N was about to hang up, I stopped her.

“Keep talking to him,” I muttered into her neck.

She pulled away slightly to give me a bewildered look. “What?”

“I believe he asked you a question,” I motioned to the phone in her hand.

“Y/N?”

“Uh,” she blinked while tearing her gaze away from me. “Yeah, I did.”

“Even the weekend we stayed at that hotel?”

My fingers traced over the front of her jeans causing her to suck in a deep breath, shifting on top of me. I groaned quietly when she pressed against my hard cock that was almost begging for release.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked through shaky breaths.

“If it’s alright with you,” I locked eyes with her, my tongue darting out over my bottom lip. “I want to make you cum while you’re on the phone with him.”

My voice was husky, laced with lust as I made quick work of the button on Y/N’s jeans. The thought of making her cum by my fingers while on the phone with her ex made a fire burn low in my stomach.

When I realized she didn’t answer, I left her jeans unbuttoned to lift her chin so I could look deeper into her eyes. “Do you want that?”

“Did you fake it every time?”

Both Jacob and I asked our question's at the same time but somehow I knew from the way her forehead dropped against mine slightly, our eyes locking, her answer was directed to me.

“Yes.”

The sound of a zipper echoed in the room and her head fell to my shoulder when my finger grazed over the fabric of her panties. I motioned towards her phone, to keep the conversation with Jacob going..

“Jacob, why are you calling me?” She asked.

“I miss you, baby.”

A groan of sheer ecstasy fell from her lips when my finger pushed past her panties to tease the slick folds for a few strokes before settling on her clit, rubbing in slow circles.

“Don’t call me that,” she said breathlessly.

My cock was throbbing now, her soft mewls of pleasure driving me wild.

Jacob sighed into the phone. “You used to love when I called you that.”

“I also loved it when you didn’t cheat on me,” Y/N shot back.

I hummed into the skin of my throat pausing the mark I left. “Who would ever cheat on you?”

“Who was that? Are you with someone else?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that shook through my body at how jealous he sounded.

“Why does it matter? We’re not together anymore.”

When I slipped a finger inside of her, her hips bucked against mine, and my other hand slid up against her back underneath her shirt. Y/N’s skin was on fire with my touch and I reveled in the burn. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, forehead still resting on my shoulder.

“Did he ever make you this wet? I can feel you clenching on my finger, angel.” My teeth grazed over the skin of her exposed collarbone.

Angel.

The nickname slipped before I even realized. She had this aura about her that shined bright, something I picked up on the second my eyes landed on her.

“Answer me,” I demanded when she remained silent.

Y/N ground her hips hard into my hand while quickly shaking her head.

“Never this wet,” she moaned.

“Y/N, who are you with? I’ll fucking kill him.”

The phone dropped from Y/N’s hand onto the couch next to us when my thumb pressed hard onto the swollen nub of her clit as my finger continued to pump in and out. She leaned away from me to show me her full form and I drank in the sight of her tilting her head back, lips parting as her body shook.

“Are you going to cum?” I asked in a low voice.

She nodded, unable to talk, until I pressed my aching cock into her where she let out a low whine.

“You want this cock, huh?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle when I noticed how eagerly she nodded and went back to leaving red marks all over her collarbone.

“If you’re a good girl and cum for me, maybe I’ll give you my cock,” I spoke into her unholy skin.

It tasted fucking devine on my tongue.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N’s body went rigid; she was close.

“Y/N, where the fuck are-.”

I repeatedly hit the red button on her phone before tossing it to the other couch as my thumb worked in fast circles against her clit.

“He doesn’t get to hear you fall apart. It’s only for me,” I ordered while kissing along her jawline.

“‘m so close, Noah.”

Oh, fuck. My name falling from those sweet lips almost were my own undoing as her yells of pleasure sounded like music to my ears. Her orgasm making her grind herself harder against my hand.

As her vision cleared, both of our dark eyes staring deep into each other, I brought my fingers to my lips, licking her arousal off of them.

“Fuck, angel, you taste so good.” I hummed low in my throat. “I can’t wait to taste you for the rest of the night while I’m on stage.”

She sighed in content with a lazy smile. “Thank you.”

“Y/N,” I tipped her chin up. “You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to help you forget that asshole for a moment.”

“Hmm, can I keep you around for the rest of the night?” She wondered, joking slightly.

Gone was the lust haze that surrounded us as I shrugged, letting her know I was serious about my previous offer. “I’ll do it only if you agree.”

Still on my lap and jeans undone, Y/N shifted on my still aching cock and I gritted my teeth to keep my own moans quiet.

“What, spend one night with me?”

It was pretty simple, this idea that I’d been thinking of all night. Clearly, it was something we both needed.

“Yeah,” I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “It’s just after eight. Our set starts at nine and will end at 10:30. After that, we can continue where we left this. Then by 7 in the morning, we can part ways. Just one night to forget our problems.”

As she thought over my offer, I continued to graze my fingers over the skin of her back, tracing down the line of her spine.

“Why would you do that for me?”

Her question came out quiet, just above a whisper so my tone matched hers as I revealed a part of me.

“You’re not the only one that needs to forget someone.”

“So,” Y/N spoke slowly after a moment. “One night of sex then by the morning we say goodbye?”

My heart sunk at the word goodbye. I hated that word; it brought back too many dark memories.

“What do you say?” I asked with a raised brow.

Before Y/N could answer, the door behind her opened which caused her to scramble off my lap, quickly fixing her jeans. As Jolly walked in first, an amused expression on his face, I discreetly adjusted myself while wondering what Y/N’s answer would have been.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook

𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back): Sour 🔞

You know people think you're just using him. And he knows that people think he's just getting used by you. And maybe it's time for him to stand up, and make some things clear.

Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute, Jealousy oh no, possessive kook!, multiple rounds, boob slapping like.. once, cumplay, creampie oops²

Length: Long, didn't count oops

A/N: There is no taglist. There is no taglist. There is no taglist. There is no-

-> Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"Ah, by the way!" His trainer asks, while Jungkook quietly unwraps his hands after his boxing training. "I wanted to ask you, who was that girl you were with when you came here earlier?" He asks, referring to you.

Jungkook doesn't really know any other girls besides you, after all. So it has to be you- you've tagged along to the boxing studio with him, leaving him to walk inside on his own however since he'd offered to simply take you along, so you could go to your appointment at the hair salon while he was working out, and bring you back home once he was done.

"..my girlfriend." Jungkook says, continuing to unwrap his other hand before flexing the fingers a bit. It's a bit odd to say it out loud- but not a bad-odd. Just unfamiliar.

Maybe because he doesn't say it much.

Maybe he should.

"Really?" His trainer wonders, looking genuinely surprised for a second as he looks at Jungkook- who feels a bit challenged, almost. Jungkook has noticed that the start contrast between you and himself has caused some people to look at him with almost something akin to pity- as if he's the prey in the cougars claws, about to be chewed and spit out once you're done with him. He gets it- but at the same time, it irritates him to no ends, because you're pretty much the sweetest cursing little angel he's ever met up to this point.

So it's unsurprising that his answer might sound a bit more offended than he's intending it to. "Yes." He answers, brows lowering.

"Oh, wow." His trainer seems to catch up on his mood. "No offense, really! Just- surprising, you know?" He tries to explain himself. "You're always so quiet, and you know… Are you sure she's in it for the right reasons?" He asks, and at that, Jungkook puts everything down to look up at his trainer with a serious face.

"What are you implying?" He demands to know.

"Man, I'm just saying! You know, I know girls like that. They use guys like you! They might fuck you well but-" He tries. "-I just-"

"You want to fuck her instead, is that it?" Jungkook calls him out, and by the look on the guy's face, Jungkook had hit the jackpot. And just as he gets up to walk closer, the door opens, and you walk in with a rustling paperbag that smells like takeout food.

"Uh.. am I interrupting something?" You ask, a little unsure- and both men stare each other down for a bit longer, before Jungkook walks off to walk over to you instead, hand on the back of your neck as he gives you a short but heated kiss- rendering you a bit speechless for once. He's never this bold in public.

What's going on?

"I'll go shower real quick, okay?" He tells you, and you just dumbly nod, left by yourself as he walks past his trainer into the changing rooms and showers.

"I'm just- not gonna ask." You just say, more or less to yourself as you sit down in a chair close by, throwing one leg over the other before pulling out your phone.

"He's just having a bad day." The trainer tells you, walking closer. "So, you and him?" He asks, and you nod at that, big grin on your face.

"Yep!" You chirp, tapping away on your phone.

"Don't make him spend all his money on you." The trainer tells you, somewhat joking- though you can hear the hint of honest threat in his tone, which makes you stop what you're doing. "I know he's a softy, but come on. Just cause he's easy doesn't make it right." He says, and you become a bit insecure at that.

You know that's what most people must think of you- but hearing it said out loud makes it sting just a bit more.

You want to stand up for yourself like you always try to do- but somehow, you can't, not in this moment. Not because you don't want to- but because you're just realizing how little people think of Jungkook. You're not even the victim here. It's not your place to even be offended in the first place.

You can take the weird rumors about yourself, the glances and looks, the stereotypes and boxes people put you in. But the fact that just because Jungkook cares, and loves, and treats the people around him with kindness, he's seen as someone weak and pitiful, just makes you angry. Because if you stood up for him right now, it would only cause more issues- the guy in front of you would only feel validated in his opinion, would never let your boyfriend live it down that his own stupid dumb girlfriend had to defend his poor self from the world.

"I'll send you my cancellation for my membership via E-mail." Jungkook suddenly says as he emerges from the showers, grabbing his bag before he helps you stand up from your seat, brushing down the back of your skirt with his palm. He almost instantly reaches for your small bag as well, holding it for you while you put your phone away.

"Hey man, I was just looking out for you-" The trainer starts, but Jungkook puts himself between him and you as if to prove a point, calmly speaking.

"Don't. I'm very much capable of doing that myself." He says, simply takes his bag to throw over his shoulder before he takes your hand in his, and leaves the gym.

It's only in the car that you dare ask what's happened. "Is it because of me?" You wonder, and Jungkook perks up at that, face completely devoid of the anger he'd had just a few minutes ago.

"What do you mean?" He asks, even his voice not in the slightest irritated any longer.

"At the gym, earlier." You say, opening the paper bag to steal some fries for yourself. "Like, you said you'll cancel your membership and stuff. And you love boxing." You shrug, and he shakes his head.

"I think I just realized that I need to start putting my foot down." He offers, changing lanes as he drives you both home. "And the membership was also pretty overpriced anyways. There's other gyms I can check out." He tries to joke, though you don't seem too convinced next to him.

"You know I'm not using your for, you know, sex and money right?" You ask him, and his eyes widen. "Like, I really really do love you-" You begin, and he laughs.

"I know that, don't worry." He tells you. "Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Lot's of people think that." You huff to yourself. "Comes with the style, I guess. And like, I'm not mad about that- I don't really care if people think I'm a money-grabbing whore." You laugh, making him cringe. He doesn't like you talking about yourself like that. "But it just makes me mad that people think you're a pussy who needs to be babied all the time." You complain.

"So you're getting angry on my behalf?" He chuckles, and you nod, crossing your arms.

"I hate when people don't take you seriously." You huff to yourself, staying quiet the entire rest of the ride until you both reach his apartment where you're staying over at tonight- when his arms reach around you from the back, his face hiding in the crook of your neck where he kisses the skin.

"I love you."He hums, and you shiver at the sound of that sentence. He doesn't say it often, his love language non-verbal, rather expressing his feelings in acts of service or fleeting touches. So whenever he does say it, it's special. "And I'm.. really happy you're my girlfriend, you know that?" He says, and you shrug.

"I'm.. you know, I'm sorry I'm always so much trouble." You sigh, but he shakes his head.

"You're not." He denies. "I need to.. say it more often to people. You know. Stop introducing you as.. you, but as my girlfriend instead." He tells you.

"You don't have to-" You start, but he chuckles.

"No, I do." He argues gently. "Because I can't stand it when people think you're easy to get. Or that you're someone that's available in the first place." He complains, walking you closer to his small bedroom, where he suddenly picks you up and let's you fall on the bed, your body bouncing from the impact a little.

"Jung-" you start, but he's already crawling closer to you on hands and knees, leaning in.

"You're mine." He almost growls under his breath, kissing you feverishly. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but you're also not complaining- or maybe you do, as you hear fabric rip and buttons drop to the floor around the bedroom.

"kook!" You whine. "That was one of my favorites-!" You complain, while he's busy pulling your skirt from your legs.

"As if I care." He growls, before he pulls you closer by the backs of your knees. "I like that lingerie though." He almost purrs, hands pulling on the straps of the lace body, letting them snap back against your skin playfully so.

"Yeah I like it too-" You pout, crossing your arms. "-So don't break it." You huff, making him raise one of his brows before he moves to push your wrists into the bed up above your head.

"I won't promise anything." He comments, before he leans down to kiss you, lips eager to claim your breath while his hands roam around your body, grabbing onto the softness of your breasts before they travel lower, over your sides, stomach, one pulling your leg up, while the other moves between your legs.

Your toes curl as he finds a way to slip his palm inside, teasing you for a good while before he throws his shirt over his head, shedding the rest of his clothes as well, before he grabs at the lace bottom of the lingerie.

It rips as he creates an opening, making you whine.

"I'll buy you a new one." He hums, one of his hands pumping his cock before he guides himself into your leaking core, pushing in slowly to help you adjust. "I'll buy you ten, I don't fucking care."

"You'll rip them all.." you sigh partially because of the feeling of him filling you up like this.

"Damn right I will." He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he pushes back in.

It's the start of what you think you know by now- but he's catching you off guard as his hips move at an aggressive pace, skin against skin echoing in the room as he clenches his jaw, a hard grip on your thighs, making you wonder if he'll leave bruises.

You wouldn't mind if he did.

Your head spins as you're left taking whatever he gives you, one of his hands leaving your thigh to instead pull down some of the straps on the upper part, pulling out your tits for him to see freely move. He can't help but grab onto one of them, hold it before he slaps it once just to see how it feels.

You, meanwhile, feel like you're having an out of body experience. You can hear yourself moan almost obscenely, whining and whimpering as he pounds into you, but its like your body doesn't respond to you any longer, as you arch your back and curl your toes.

And like the devil he is, he doesn't slow down. Instead, he grabs your hips, and adjusts you to lay over his thighs, gaining the ability to aim even deeper inside. And your body freezes up as you hit your orgasm full force, thighs shaking violently as he slows a bit, erratically moving to reach his own high as well, your cunt clenching around him tightly.

And as he finally cums, pushed as far inside you as he can, he finally gains back the ability to year, and notice his surroundings.

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, your eyes are closed, skin shining in a light layer of sweat as he can't help but run his hands over the pale pink lace lingerie covering your body.

You're just so pretty.

He moves the straps and lace around, helps you out of the garment, slipping out of your core for a moment, causing you to whine in complaint. "So pretty.." he hums, as he finally has full access to your bare skin, lips peppering kisses from your stomach up to your neck, hands never staying still. "All mine." He speaks against your skin, when you feel him suddenly harshly suck and bite at your neck and shoulder.

"J-jungk-" you stammer, legs rubbing against one another as he chuckles.

"Already wanting more?" He wonders, and you nod, hands clinging onto his arms. "Think you can take it?" He jokes, and you nod again.

"Please-" you beg, and he leans back, pulling you with him to straddle his lap, adjusting you properly on his still sensitive cock. You've never had sex in this position before,but you immediately decide that it's one of your favorite- the way he holds you, his body all over you, the way he's able to provide such an immense feeling of safety and comfort to you, is otherworldly almost.

Or maybe it's just jungkook himself. You're not sure.

He's overly sensitive but pushes through that first wall, moves a lot slower and more sensual now as he helps you bounce on his lap, before you instead start to roll your hips into his- earning a very vocal response from him as he holds onto your ass, assisting you in your motions while your hands are on his back, nails scratching a little over his skin.

And he loves it, loves the idea of wearing your marks just as much as you do his.

He really should show his love for you more often. It's still a bit odd to him why you're with him in the first place, but he should stop trying to figure that out- because that's not what it's all about, isn't it? Your relationship doesn't need any other reason to exist than live alone, and love is something you both have a lot of.

The love for your body, your mind, your soul. The love for the way you nap around whenever you can in the most random of places. The love for your random kisses you place on his cheek, on his neck, on his hands, on his shoulders. The love for your cooking, your care and your hugs at night.

He's got so much love for you, and he should show that.

He's sure he can't cum again, but he knows he's reaching his second orgasm however, hips moving erratically just like yours as you pick up your pace, lips chasing after his, as he licks at your lips, open mouthed kisses sharing breaths as you reach your highs.

You cling onto him for a good while after, feeling him fill you up once more as his cock spurts his release up your cunt, making it leak out down your legs, as he lays your limp body back down on the bed, pulling out.

His hand can't help but try and push his seed back in- and when he notices he can't, he instead uses it as lubricant to instead let his thumb circle over your pulling clit, a frail whimper coming from you as he softly lures another orgasm out of you, his breath finally normalizing as he watches his cum leak out of you.

He's tired, exhausted, but forces himself up at least to help you and him clean up and so you go pee, while he simply throws the stained sheets into the wash. Neither he nor you get dressed after showering and drying up, rather opting to sleep wrapped in simple blankets on the couch instead, holding each other close.

And the pain in his muscles the next time he wakes up is so worth it-

Just like the honestly amusing sight of you struggling to walk straight.

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