#bottom line- you deserve to feel wanted in all of your relationships

[star-sim]

sweater ☆ riki nishimura

☆ non-idol! bf! riki x fem! reader ☆ summary: when riki doesn't recognize a sweater that you're wearing, he gets insecure. ☆ genre: fluff, hurt-comfort ☆ warning(s)? insecurities and cheating briefly mentioned ☆ word count: 1.0k ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated! also this was such a big trend in 2020 in the haikyuu fandom my god

“What the fuck, dude?!”

You head whipped around to see your boyfriend frowning on your bed.

It was another one of those nights.

Riki and you would stay together all night, either to study or just fool around. It was deeper into the night now. You had just gotten out of the shower, changing into one of your dad’s oversized sweaters that miscellaneously made its way into your laundry. You liked the way that it fit, draping over you comfortably.

You were peacefully doing your skincare routine when Riki’s outburst interrupted you.

With half-applied moisturizer, you cocked a brow at him, looking at your boyfriend over you shouldes.

“What happened?”

The wide scowl that broke out on Riki’s features was alarming. His brows knitted together and his lips curled. Riki let out an offended scoff, throwing his phone aside and jumping to his feet. He paced toward you with vigor, grabbing onto your shoulders.

“You know what you did, and you’re just going to act like you did nothing–?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Riki?” You clutched boyfriend’s shoulders, slowly pushing him away.

He didn’t move. His large hands squeezed your shoulders, his face contorting. Anyone would think that Riki’s face was painted with anger, but you knew better.

He was confused.

And distraught.

Riki sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, fingers brushing against the hem of your sweater.

For him, the issue was your sweater.

He’d never seen it before. 

These days, Riki was feeling insecure.

All throughout high school, you were endlessly popular. Riki would be lying if he said he never felt a tad insecure. There were so many guys that still pined after you. So many guys that were ten times smarter than him. So many guys that were endlessly kinder than him. So many guys that had perfect temperaments and maturity. After all, why would you, the prettiest, smartest, strongest, and most perfect girl in the entire world, want to stay with someone as crass and needy as him?

Sometimes, words got to him. Those that knew about your relationship talked. And they never seemed to fully approve of the two of you being together.

She deserves better, was always the first thing that came out of their mouths.

And sometimes Riki agreed.

The thought of someone else holding you, someone touching you and kissing your lips, someone getting to gaze into your eyes and whisper those three words from their heart to you made Riki feel sick to his stomach. 

But he couldn’t help but feel inferior. Maybe someone else would be better for you.

So when he saw you wearing a sweater that he didn’t recognize, Riki’s insecurities got the best of him. You didn’t wear sweaters often, and if you did, it was always his. His sweaters were distinctly too big for you, always being oversized.

Which was why Riki’s mind ran wild.

Where did you get that oversized sweater if it wasn’t Riki’s?

And more importantly, who did it belong to?

“I know I’m not good enough for you,” Riki grumbled, “But you could’ve told me before you went off with another guy.”

“Wait, what?”

Riki looked down. If he looked you in the eye, he’d probably start crying. 

He didn’t respond.

“Riki, what are you talking about?” Your hand gently came up to grasp his cheek, which he pulled away from. “‘Went off with another guy’? What are you even saying?”

When he finally looked at you, you saw the hot tears that were lining his eyes. He pushed your hand away, quickly wiping his eyes.

You pushed him onto the bed, sinking down onto his lap. You caressed his cheek. 

“I’m not going to leave you, Baby,” you said. “I mean, there’s no one that I could ever like as much as you.”

You brought your fingers up to his eyes, gently pressing his eyes shut. Then, you leaned in to kiss his eyelids, then his temples. With your fist, you softly knocked on his head. “I always wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Riki didn’t say anything. Instead, he melted into your touch, sliding his arm around your torso, pulling you closer to him. 

“I love you, Riki, I hope you know that” you said into his ear. “So I don’t want you to cry anymore.”

“I wasn’t crying,” Riki mumbled against your shoulder.

“Sure, Baby,” you patted the back of his head. 

After a few moments of silence, you asked, “What made you think that I would leave you?”

“Your sweater. I hate it.”

You cocked a brow. “Why?”

“Looks like some other dude’s.”

You shared another silence.

You let out a small, ‘ah.’ Getting off of Riki’s lap, you fingered the hem of your sweater. Riki watched you as you disappeared into your closet, before reappearing with another sweater. Making sure that he was watching you, you began to pull the polyester fabric over your shoulders.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” Riki rushed to cover his eyes.

“Relax, you big baby.” 

Riki hid behind his hands, watching from the cracks in his fingers. Pulling off the sweater that you were currently wearing, you shrugged on another sweater.

It had blue and black stripes, reaching down to the middle of your thighs.

This time, Riki recognized it. It was his.

“There,” you gave him a boxy smile. “Even though that sweater was my dad’s, if you don’t like it, I won’t wear it.”

Riki’s jaw dropped, before waving his hands out in front of him. “Nonono!” he spluttered. “I was being stupid. You can wear whatever you want!”

You put your finger on your chin. “Hmmm, but I think I like your sweaters more.”

Years into the future, you never let Riki live down the fact that he got jealous over a sweater. Riki didn’t care, though. The only memory attached to that little incident worth living for was when you kissed him and said, “I love you.”

[dontsh0vethesun]

pretty when you cry

therapist!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

18+: mommy issues, minimal therapy talk though, smut; mommy kink, dacryphilia, thigh riding, praise kink, fingering, darkish in the fact that, not only is it an inappropriate relationship, she almost uses r’s weaknesses(?) against her, manipulative ish and a lot of language inferring r being dependent on her? idk how to describe it :/

wc: 1.5k

Wanda listened to the way your intake of breath was shaky. She watched the subtle tapping of your foot against the carpeted ground and the way you played with your fingers in your lap.

“You never deserved to be treated that way,” she spoke. “I hope you know that.”

“The realisation of the pain almost feels worse than living through it,” you uttered back, your voice quiet as you lifted your eyes to the ceiling to will away the building tears. You avoided her gaze, the soft eyes, the wanting eyes that she couldn’t help but train on each feature of your sullen face. 

You were broken and she wanted to put you back together again. Or perhaps she aches to break you all the more, just to see how dependant on her she could make you; how lovely you would be to need her. 

“This guilt you’ve expressed - about this resentment you hold towards your family - I’d like for us to throw it away,” Wanda returned. “I hope that, together, we can bring you back - lift you to where you should be without the weight of your mother on your shoulders.”

At the tremble of your bottom lip, she lifted herself from where she sat, instead taking a seat beside you despite that line of professionalism. She took in the scent of your perfume and the up-close sight of the side of your face. She adored the shy way you glanced towards her, quickly diverting your glistening eyes when the tears began to roll along your cheeks. 

She couldn’t keep her touch away at the sound of a sniffle, a sigh of breath from your parted lips. A comforting hand took place on your thigh and you couldn't deny the warmth it ignited. Whether it was the comfort or the forbidden closeness you weren't quite sure. 

You leaned into the arm that encircled your waist, accepting the guiding of her hand that brought the side of your head to rest against her shoulder. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” she whispered with her lips ghosting the top of your head. You’d never experienced such fondness, a soft embrace when you felt as though the world had left you crumbled. 

Never before had someone shown you this kind of affection and any path of sense grew blurry. Should she be holding you this way with her hand on your leg? Should the scent of her vanilla body lotion make you dizzy? You don't know. All you know is that you don't want her to let go. 

You'd recognised her beauty, of course, and this close it was that much more astounding. When her finger and thumb took hold of your chin for you to look into her eyes you could see each fleck of colour, each bit darkened when her sights were set upon you and your pink-hued whites, your wet eyelashes and cheeks striped with tear marks. 

“You look so pretty when you cry,” she whispered, taking in your appearance lustfully. She wiped her thumb through the droplets that ran down your cheek and the touch was enough to calm the hiccuped breaths that caught in your throat, serving as a reminder of the present. Of the beautiful, older woman in front of you who was showing you that someone cared. 

Despite the hungry way she peered down at you, watching your pain slide down to your chin, her touch remained gentle. The way she watched you intently barely made you shrink, her musing eyes drank up the pathetic sight happily. Crying before her you looked so helpless, so pretty, so broken in need of a motherly hand to guide you. She’d bring you to tears over and over as long as she’d be the one to pick you back up. 

When you lifted your face to greet her lips with yours you were barely thinking, though when you did it was only to find her reciprocating with fervour; her hands took your face between them and yours found a place on her back with the silk material of her shirt in your grasp. It was a line you feared would have consequences. It was a line Wanda had only thought of crossing in the confines of her bedroom - one that was dangerous and thrilling and so tempting. But even a strictly professional woman such as herself has desires, she couldn’t pass up such an opportunity. 

You could feel the slick of her lip gloss against you, and you sighed at the intrusion of her tongue licking into your mouth. Her attention made your head spin. The idea that you were her sole focus, so desperate to have you she’d risk it all, the closeness of her body when she pulled you onto her lap felt safe. When wandering hands crept beneath your shirt you leaned into their touch, feeling the shivering of your spine when her nails scraped along the skin whilst her lips made their way to your neck. 

The way her body felt beneath your touch was sublime, the softness of her waist and the pillowy flesh of her breasts when you palmed at them through her bra. 

Wanda’s breath was hot against your throat, her tongue licked across the bite mark she left behind whilst she pulled you impossibly closer in her eagerness to have you near. She pulled your hips into hers, smirking against your collarbone at the whimper you failed to hide. When she pushed her thigh upwards into your clothed cunt you couldn’t hold back the grunt at the back of your throat, feeling the pressure in your aching clit. She knew you’d be soaked, that her attention would reward her with the feel of your hips aimlessly rutting against her. 

“Let mommy help you,” she murmured, pulling away from you with swollen lips, her hands taking claim of your hips to aid your movements. “I just wanna make you feel good. That okay?” 

Her voice was soft and so were her eyes and it all made your brain so hopelessly empty, succumbing to the hold she has on you. All you knew was that she cared for you, the feelings she was igniting were setting you alight and, although you shouldn’t, you wanted it. Each and every thing this woman would offer you, you’d take and swallow down. 

When you nodded she smiled and cupped your cheek. 

“Good girl.” 

She inched a hand between your bodies whilst her lips pushed to yours again, unfastening your jeans to creep past the hem of your underwear. Her fingers found how soaked you were with a swipe through your folds, your hands dug into her shoulders at the feeling of them brushing over your clit. 

“So worked up aren’t you, hm?” she murmured against the pulse point of your neck, burying her fingers into your pussy with a curl that made you moan out into the crook of her neck, your teeth daring to ghost the soft skin. You wanted to know her taste. To consume her entirely, to show her just how grateful you are. 

She adored the way you clung to her, keeping her as close as possible with your lips pressing kisses to her jaw while her fingers fucked into you; the heel of her palm pushed against your swollen bud, bringing you towards your release. 

“C’mon,” she cooed, pulling your face away from her with a gentle hand in your hair. “Look at mommy when she makes you feel good.”

You did as she said, letting her keep her eyes focused on your pleading ones. The ones that held the remnants of your tears, that were replaced with a sensual hue, glossed over and wanting. You looked at her as though she was the only thing that mattered and it made her ravenous.

The sight of you cumming onto her digits had quickly become one of her favourite views and the sounds she pulled from you would echo in her mind. Feeling your mouth against hers made her smile, the way you thanked her for the pleasure. Her pliable little doll. 

You’d do anything for her and she knows it. 

She was pleased with your obedience when you accepted the fingers she nudged past your lips, slackening your jaw to suck them clean of the mess you’d made. She tasted your sweetness in the kiss she reunited you with, knowing right away she’d have to taste you properly as soon as she could. 

Not much longer she was helping you stand up, fixing your appearance for you to take your leave, a tension lingering in the air of what was to happen next. 

“Thank you, Wanda,” you sheepishly began. “for everything - for today. I mean-“

She cut you off with a laugh that eased your awkwardness and a touch to your arm that you leaned into. 

“Same time next week?” she questioned to which you nodded right away. “And you’ve got my number. Give me a call if you need anything in the meantime,” she added with her lips quirking into a smirk as she reciprocated your small wave goodbye. 

[2tarbell]

sneaking around with rafe while dating jj

warnings! cheating, mentions/descriptions of piv sex, pogue!reader rafe mentions reader being a girl, daddy kink (mentioned), slight dacryphilia, pogue/kook talk, sneaky-link!rafe

563 words. headcannons/drabble. © 2tarbell 2024.

being with jj for as long as you have meant you were secure and happy in the relationship. except you really weren’t. you allowed him to parade you around and play the part of doting girlfriend, but in truth you couldn’t even remember the last time you two had been intimate. which is what caused you to seek out something new, someone new. rafe was happy as a clam to step up in the way the blond pogue couldn’t.

he was cocky in this endeavor; feeling a surge of masculine pride at the thought of being better than jj in just another way. it helped that you were one of the prettiest things he’s ever laid eyes on, shocked that the pogue was able to even bag you. he made sure to tell you such when your legs were on his shoulders and he was giving you his all.

now you couldn’t even remember your boyfriends name as rafe bent you in all directions, sliding into your heat easily, tsking at the slickness between your thighs, an evil smirk gracing his pink lips. his voice low and sultry as he teased you for it, only adding to the glistening wetness.

“shiiit… so fuckin’ wet... tsk, this all f’me, baby? best dick of your life, huh?”

and it was without a doubt. rafe had you feeling things and orgasming in ways you couldn’t even comprehend. he was a vision, truly. who could blame you?

as if the sex wasn’t enough to keep you coming back, the tender way he began to hold you definitely was. somewhere along the line, rafe stopped hitting it exclusively from the back and shoving your face into his mattress, expensive sheets stained from your running mascara. no, now he wanted to see you as fucked you senseless. needed to.

his brow creased and mouth agape, watching in awe as your eyes welled with tears from the immense pleasure, collecting on your bottom lash line. he pulsed inside of you when the tears began to roll in hot, fat globs down your cheeks, dazzling pearls attesting to the way he was making you come undone. it was beautiful. you were beautiful.

jj didn’t deserve you; rafe found himself thinking that more and more lately.

his hair hanging in his eyes as he laid on top of you, toned hips rolling deliberately into you. you’d take his dangling chain between your teeth, trying to anchor yourself as you whined and writhed beneath him. the sound of your connecting bodies downright nasty. he shuddered as you cried out, calling him “daddy” and begging for more.

missonary quickly became rafes favorite position to fuck you in. getting to look at your pretty face as he destroyed you never got old. neither did the sweet whispers of devotion he’d murmur into your ear. velvet voice making promises neither of you dared to speak of once you got your releases. there was a delicate balancing act to this arrangement between you both.

“y’so perfect, you know that? best pussy i’ve ever— fuck— ever had. only girl i want.”

it didn’t matter what was said as he was inside of you, your walls hugging him so perfectly, he can’t believe you weren’t made just for him.

as you clawed at his back, arching and shuddering against him, he was beginning to think that maybe you were.

[miioouu]

Ghost's tattoos

This was supposed to be a sweet, wholesome little idea, but like…it’s me, what else did we expect? Also, I’m trying to fight my months long writer’s block so I'm sorry if this sucks, let me get some practice in before I tackle the Mean dbf ghost series.

Warning: suggestive, genre of reader not mentioned, lowkey condescending

Wc: 963

Everyone around the base has had a glance of the Lieutenant’s tattooed sleeve. He usually prefers to keep it covered, although most of his tattoos don't have a deep meaning behind them, or at least that’s what he says; it still felt too personal, too vulnerable to show around.

But you, you were the only person who had seen it all. Not just the tattoos, but the scars, the wounds, the scratches that all decorated his arms; and no matter how many hours you spent tracing every line on his body, you could never get enough of it, it's just so fascinating.

So surely it's no surprise to either of you (or anyone, it's not like you kept your relationship hidden), when some sergeant loses you, only to find you in Simon's office, sitting by his side as he signs whatever paperworks that have occupied his whole attention for the past couple of hours, your eyes trained on his hand, watching as the veins twist, disappear and appear again with each movement, tracing up to his wrist, a little up to the sliver of skin showing; a beauty mark here, a small raised white line of a scar there, dark ink…everywhere. The beginning of a skull tattoo peeking out his sleeve, some roman numbers that you never bothered to question its symbolism, knowing he'll say something along the lines of ‘nothing important’ or ‘don't worry about it, sweets’. You two were close, yes, but Simon and his secrets were closer, he loves to keep his privacy, his walls built strong and high, and although you managed to slither through some bricks, it wasn’t enough.

But you’re not one to dwell on this, not when people leave you alone with him, not when he groans as he stretches; his fitted black tee lifting up and exposing a glimpse of his happy trail. Your eyes would’ve strayed further south, remembering what he has hidden under those army pants, if it weren’t for his fingers grabbing your chin, making you hold his gaze for a moment before he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?”

Simon was sweet to you, always, no matter what, and you loved that, you really did, but not when you’re so obviously desperate for him. Not when your thighs are rubbing together, not when your lashes are batting at him, not when you’re pouting, too frustrated to word your needs out. And he knows it. He knows you don’t want him to dote on you right now; it’s all his fault, he assumes, not having given you the attention you deserve lately.

So he did what he always does, what he knows will get the tender smile back on your face; he leaned back against his chair, it squeaked under his weight, he spread his legs, enough for you to sink to your knees between them. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, feeling the slightly chapped skin under his finger, chuckling “Sweets, you need to stop biting those precious lips of yours, hmm?” but he doesn’t mean it, of course he doesn’t. There’s nothing hotter in his mind than your pearly whites digging in your pinkish plumpness, especially when you’re looking up at him with those fake innocent eyes, like you were doing right now.

His thumb pushed past your lips, feeling the edges of your front teeth before rubbing against the tip of your tongue. The action itself was lewd, but something about Simon’s softness made it so much more wholesome; like a kiss to the cheek, like the rubbing of noses against each other, like a caress of a hand against an arm… How does a man so big, so full of violence and tragedies be so…kind?

And you need to appreciate him, right? That’s the right thing to do; wrap your lips around his digit, your eyes fluttering shut at the taste of his skin, and you suck, softly, sweetly, as if you’re savouring the last bite of your favourite dessert; the only difference is that Simon would never deprive you have him. You pull out slowly, a pop echoing in the room, his finger glistening under the white light of his office, but you’re not done coating him with your spit, far from it. Your tongue darts out, licking a strip all the way to his wrist only to later on, then press kisses to his palm and then back up. Your eyes zero on the black ink; a thick line that slowly thins out as it curves, depicting a skull, you follow it with your hot muscle, retracing every line etched on his flesh, and you feel him stiffen under your touch, his breath hitching and he mumbles out a curse “Bloody hell, sweetheart… you’re being so good.” This man has the audacity to smile, a warm one that has your heart skip a beat, that has the knot in your stomach tighten even more, and it makes you want to slap it off his face; why is he acting like an angel when you feel your blood hotter than the flames of hell?!

You scoff, pulling away, and you know you should ask permission before guiding your hands to his belt, but come on, he can’t expect you to be proper now. Although it's your fault for taking advantage of his kindness, in a swift motion he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks together to stop you; he knows you, you’re predictable, he slips his fingers, two this time inside your mouth again “Ah, ah, lovie. I still got so many papers to read…be a good one and suck on my fingers for now, can’t let you distract me too much…”

[sugurouge]

— i ache & yearn for rules to bend : umemiya hajime x f!reader

summary: relationships can be scary. sometimes it is much easier to keep someone at an arm's length and only accept as much as you see yourself deserving of. but with umemiya, he has so much love and warmth to give, it's impossible to keep it casual. won't you finally let him win you over?

wc: 1k

content warnings! smut, topics of emotional unavailability, some spit, praise, pet names like angel & princess, marking

Gentle kisses on your skin feel like a fire might spread from the inside out, filling you with desire and clouding your mind incomparable to past lovers. Your focus is solely on him: his lingering touches and soft scent. Hajime Umemiya is the most comforting person you have ever been with, and at this point, it is nearly impossible to deny your attraction to him.

But you don’t do relationships, do you?

“Let me take care of you,” Ume whispers into your skin, those gentle blue eyes shining even in the dimly lit room. “I’ll do anything for you,” he continues softly, before leaving another love bite on your soft skin. “Sounds good, angel?”

You bite into your lower lip, fighting to keep yourself from falling harder for him. It's a futile attempt once your eyes fall shut from pleasure and all those pretty sounds he steals from you tumble free. Your fingers card through familiar white strands, reaching out for some sort of support as you drown in him. ���Go ahead…” It's difficult to sound unbothered when greedy lips ravage your body.

Hajime gazes at you with a hunger like he could devour you whole. Yet, the longer he adores your face, his hunger gradually mixes with love—and he's got so much love to give. He wants you, wants to love you, and wants you to allow him to. But how could you understand?

His long fingers trace over your chest, teasing your nipples slightly before following the line of your stomach, fingertips gently pushing your thighs apart. “You look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, leaning closer to brush his lips against your own.

You try to close the gap between your bodies, greedy to kiss him. Yet he is the one obliging your rules; no kissing, remember? Of course, he would never point out your little slip up. Instead, Hajime pulls back, busying his lips with kissing your jawline. He handles you with such care, every move of his nothing but gentle and soothing as he guides your thigh to hike it up and around his waist. It's impossible to stay unbothered when you feel his length push between your puffy lips, coating himself in your arousal, driving you crazy with desire upon the stimulation. His low groan coats your skin, a soft whisper of “God, how desperately I want to call you mine,” follows suit.

Your brows furrow as your hips instinctively seek friction. “Hajime,” nothing but a pretty whimper as you raise your hands to protect yourself from his loving gaze. “Please,” you beg ever so sweetly; it is rare for you to be this needy for him.

He’s halfway inside you as he halts his movements, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Aww, sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re getting shy now?” he chuckles, before leaving more kisses on your hands that still cover your face. “Show me your pretty face. You’re so beautiful when I make you feel good.”

His smile is too kind, too warm, too sweet to not make your heart burst. And his cock fits so perfectly, stretching you the right way, stealing the prettiest moans from you.

Once he bottoms out, your hands find another on instinct, entwining your fingers and finally exposing your troubled face to him. Why would you hide from him? Do you think that would protect you from the feelings you’re trying to fight? Your eyes meet again the moment a particularly lovely sound escapes you, causing Ume to feel awfully proud of himself. “That’s better, keep your eyes on me, hm?” he whispers as his hips move perfectly against you.

Your free hand tangles in his locks, pulling his face closer to your own as your neediness outweighs any other feelings. Yes, succumb to him. Accept how hungry you are for him. Ume can feel how well your walls clench around him; how could he not reward you with his moans?

“Hajime—” you cry out, your legs pressing against his sides and your eyes filling with tears because of your repressed feelings for the man thrusting into you.

Your sobs and hiccups are so pretty, so addictive—he can’t help himself. The overwhelming urge to claim you grows with every tryst you two share. Umemiya lets go of your hand to tilt your chin up while supporting himself on the headboard. The sight of his well-defined body hovering above you is divine, allowing you to watch his hips thrusting against yours relentlessly. His usual calm demeanour is overshadowed by unusual need, causing him to gently press on your jaw to signal you to open your mouth.

You part your lips almost too willingly, your eyes unwavering from his ice-blue ones as his movements slow.

Umemiya pulls his cock back, only to push in deeper than before as he puckers his lips and lets a drop of his saliva land on your tongue. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he praises while watching his spit on your tongue, the pride in his voice unmistakable. Who would have ever thought you'd explore such dirty and claiming acts with your friend with benefits? If he has already broken one of your rules, why not go all out? So he kisses you, deeply. His tongue explores your mouth, brushing against your own and tasting you fully.

The realisation of his ‘claim’ sends shivers down your spine, making you arch your back further to feel all of him, to close the last inch of distance between your bodies as you return his kiss. Your hands wrap around his neck, tugging at his curls. “Wanna cum…” you murmur against his lips, your moans mingling in the small space between your mouths. “Make me cum, Haji… take care of me.”

Umemiya nudges the tip of his nose against yours, comforting your needy body while he picks up his pace. His hips bounce against yours, skin slapping against skin without fail while your pussy clamps around him.

“’M close,” you breathe out, only motivating him further to pleasure you. His fingers find your clit, and it’s almost embarrassing how little effort it takes Umemiya to push you over the edge.

Once his own climax washes over him, Umemiya collapses on top of you. Sweaty bodies become one as you’re held flush against him; you don’t even want him to pull out. Needy fingers hold onto his back and side as you look up at him through teary lashes.

He’ll stay if you tell him to. He’ll make you happier than anyone else ever could.

Umemiya kisses you again, this time tenderly. The kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you vulnerable, needy for air as much as your heart yearns for him. He gently rests a hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing the soft skin. “You’ve never been loved, have you…” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your forehead. “I can tell…”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[comment-day]

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So what do you comment?

What kind of commentary, you ask? I will be honest, a lot of the time the commentary is me going OH NO or keysmashing after lines. And that's also okay! I have been told so by authors before!

I know I have personally gotten comments where commenters did delicate character analysis after lines and those comments are in my treasured forever box, and I also have comments where someone went OH NO OH NO AOHNFDIOFNDISJFODISJIDJSIOFD YOU DIDN"T AUTHOR NO and I also hold them dear to my heart all the same. The author gets to know the reaction a work got from their reader! And that's fantastic!

The point of the pull quotes comment is showing the impact a work is having on you as you go through the work, section by section, and sometimes that's a digression about how this line made you think about the characters relationship and how he DESERVES THIS HAPPINESS, and sometimes it's responding to a heartbreaking line with twenty weeping emoji. The impact of opening up a comment email and seeing 10 lines of quotes of your own work will hit whether you have thoughtful commentary or you are rolling yourself into a little ball like an octopus and tumbling across the screen (ordinary standard unhinged comment I have left on the works of writers who make me feel Like That).

Go forth! Comment in detail! Let the authors know which lines made you go "oh no" out line in the kitchen as you made soup! Let them know about callbacks that you just realized and now you figured out the whole mystery! Let them know about how this one bit was so cute you had to step away from the computer for a sec! Let them know what you thought!

[webslingingslasher]

i would suck dick for comfort most definitely sorry not sorry

the fact i got all these back to back 😭😭😭

kinda diff but same idea?

smutty content under the cut!

it's funny cause it would blow his mind that, that's what you want.

when it first happens you had a real sucky day and the only thing you felt like you were good at was making peter cum so you're all pouty and miserable watching him mercilessly kill opponents on his computer screen.

rolling your cheek to rest on the back of your hand, your front stretched across his bed.

"can i suck you off?"

you can hear a shout, muffled from his headphones.

'ayeooo, what the fuck?!'

you feel your cheeks warm, peter untucks an ear.

"what'd you say?" he couldn't believe it himself. you've never been so blunt when asking for him. he must have misheard.

you blink innocently, "mute me?"

peter taps his keyboard, you hear another roar, 'ayeoooo!'

"can i suck you off?"

his eyes flick to his bedroom door, his aunt's right outside on the couch. you've never been this risky before, "right now?" you lick your lips, "please?"

peter thinks it over, it should be a no brainer but his nightmare is his aunt knocking on the door while he's in your mouth. it doesn't matter, he'd be an idiot to say no.

"i..." several clicks, his screen goes blank, his headphones tossed on his desk. "yeah, okay." sitting up you grin, making grabby hands when he finally stands. 

"no! where go?" dropping into a pout when he walks towards his door, his fingertips flick the lock, you exhale an 'oh'.

peter raises an eyebrow, "are you okay?"

"no. yes. i feel shitty and i really want to make you cum, is that okay?"

peter cannot think of one scenario it wouldn't be okay.

-------

the second time is like the first, you figured it was a one one time thing, that you were in a funk and needed something to make you feel like you were good, and making peter feel good made you really feel good.

but now, after the third time you still couldn't understand what he was trying to explain, words and numbers going over your head; it felt like your head was about to explode.

your boyfriend's doing the best he can and doesn't deserve your frustration. you can't clear your thoughts, everything swirling in one jumbled mess and his explanations going nowhere. he's moving his mouth but all you hear is static.

all you needed was something to clear your mind, then you could truly focus and be nicer to peter. you needed something that would make you feel good, you needed... peter.

"same idea, you take the mean and multiply it by the val-"

"can i suck you off?"

peter's jaw drops, his eyes flicker from the notebook in front of him to you. "i'm sorry?"

your hand pulls at his waistline, "can i suck you off? i need something to help me focus." he doesn't say anything so you unbutton his pants, shifting in your seat at the kitchen table, preparing to hit the ground when his hands stop you.

"woah, okay, hold on. first off, i'm not sure if sucking my... i'm not sure if doing that will help you focus. second, at the kitchen table?"

nibbling on your bottom lip you shy away, you didn't think he was judging in a mean way, just in a 'he wouldn't do this' way.

"um, yeah, you're right. sorry."

peter doesn't like that you're being shy, watching you pick up a pencil and panic as you try and figure out what you definitely weren't listening to; his mind flashes back to the last time you asked on a whim.

"you doin alright, lovie?"

it's like you jolt away, "oh! um, yeah! just thinking."

"you sure? cause if you need a quick bedroom break i wouldn't mind."

it's like he just offered to take you to the moon. your head flips to him, stars in your eyes.

"really? cause i'm like," you make a line over your head with your hand, "up to here with information overload and i'm being kinda mean and i don't wanna be. i just need to clear my head and i dunno, it made me feel better last time."

when peter first got into the relationship he thought he struck gold. he some how got the prettiest person in the entire school to not only hit on him but like him enough to claim him officially. but he never actually thought about sex logically, because there was no way you would ever want to do that with him, until you reached your boiling limit and with tears in your eyes asked him why he thought you were ugly. then it became very clear you wanted, and like today, sometimes needed him like that.

so when situations like this happen, when he can't even believe it's real cause not even in his wildest dreams would he imagine his life being anything like this, he has no idea how to react. because, what do you mean you need to suck his dick?

"peter?" he's gone silent, you think the offers off the table. "it's okay if you don't feel-"

"i just don't get how it makes you feel any better. i mean, i'd get it if you wanted me to go down on you or if you wanted a quicky but i don't see how getting me off helps you. but if it does, i won't complain."

you can see his point, it does seem kind of odd.

"i think cause whenever you do stuff to me i just kind of get in my head. like, 'do i smell good, do i taste good, did i forget to shave, am i pulling his hair too hard, am i being too loud, too quiet? all those things. but when i do it to you, all i can think about is you and making you happy."

"so... when you..." his hand rotates as he skips over the words, you fill in for him, "suck your dick," he nods, "right, it makes you feel better because suddenly the only thing on your mind is me."

you nod, "correct."

"that's wild." his back hits against the chair, "also, not cool you're all freaked out when we have sex. not liking that."

you grab his shoulders in exclaim, "no! not like that! just, fleeting thoughts, i guess. but ninety eight percent of the time all i can think about is you."

"not risking the two percent?"

"i'd rather not."

"alright," peter knocks on the table, "now we got that out the way, from now on, you can please me whenever you want." he never thought he'd say those words.

"so... now?"

you cheer when your boyfriend stands, he gives you a pointed finger, "just so you know, this isn't something you can use to get yourself out of studying. this is me letting you use my body to help you focus better."

"yeah, yeah, yeah, bedroom, pants off."

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

after that? psh. he said anytime you wanted and you used that to your advantage. it went from clearing your mind to just doing it cause he said you could.

one night you're stretched across his couch while peter sits in the corner, both of you focused on a movie. suddenly, you remember you have something much more fun to pass the time. sometimes, you forget you can just... do it.

digging your toes into his thigh he pushes them away, "ow," rolling your eyes you poke again. "can i suck you off?" attention caught, "right now?"

"do you think i'm asking in advance?"

"but i'm all comfy and we're more than halfway through the movie, i'm committed now." he doesn't even have to do anything.

"okay, stay there. i'll just go between your legs, then you can still see the tv." you shuffle around until your knees hit the floor, then bringing yourself to peter by pulling on his leg.

"yeah, but, on the couch? i mean, if may-"

you rest your cheek on his knee, his flannel pajama pants ultra soft. "please don't talk about your aunt when i'm about to suck your dick."

"but if we make a mess she'll-"

you hush him, your fingers pulling at his waistband.

"then i'll make sure i don't make a mess."

----------

another night, you spent the night and woke him up after a bad dream. at first he's frazzled but when you express your panic he's wide awake and rubbing your back.

"um, i know you're tired but do you think i could..."

peter's gotten better at reading hints.

he yawns first, then smacks his lips before shuffling his boxers off.

"commit me if i ever say no."



[five-bi-five-mind]

Instead

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Angst-ish, Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Words: 9.4k+

Summary: JJ had been in love with you from the very moment she met you. The only problem is, you've been with someone else this whole time. Not only that, but he treats you like shit and you keep running back to him. Is there more to it than she knows or do you truly love him the way she wished you loved her?

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, cheating, and unhealthy relationships. Smut, fingering (r receiving), marking (r receiving), top!JJ, bottom!r, smut with a lot of feelings okay

A/N: I was really into this concept and then I really wasn't... but it's finished and now I can move on to other fics. Hope y'all enjoy it though!

(gif not mine, credit to greencways)

This happened way too often, but JJ was there every single time. She knew the signs, knew what was going on. You didn’t have to say a word and she would immediately understand what was going on with you. It was the look in your eyes, even when you smiled. Those eyes always said the opposite of whatever you tried to tell her. Or even what you tried to tell yourself. 

He was always bad for you, from the moment JJ met him, she knew he wasn’t ever going to be what you deserved. And, boy, was she completely right. She lost count of the amount of times she would catch you bawling your eyes out over something stupid he said or did. You’d often try to appear unbothered, but the minute she would approach you and ask if you were okay, you’d utterly fall apart. And every single time, she would open her arms for you to fall into. She would stroke your hair and wipe your tears and tell you all about how he’s not good enough for you and that you deserve someone who would never treat you nearly as bad as he did. There was always the silent sentence she never said, though. The one that ends with something along the lines of someone like me or I would never treat you that way. But she always held her tongue, feeling selfish everytime she was tempted to say it.

Without fail, whenever there was a fight, your horrible boyfriend would come back with some excuse, some way of apologizing, and you’d rip yourself from her arms and fall right back into his. Not that you even knew that JJ wanted you to stay in her arms, but it still hurt like hell every single time. She tried to tell herself for a while that it hurt so much because she knew he would hurt you so much. You were her closest friend, so of course it was just that she cared deeply for you like a friend should. Right? That lie only lasted so long. A year went by and she was stuck with this horrible crushing feeling in her chest. Finally, JJ couldn’t deny it at all anymore. It was incredibly obvious to everyone except for you, it seemed, that she was completely in love with you. 

So then she went through these phases each time you took him back. It would start with the painful feeling of rejection, even if you were completely unaware that you were rejecting her. Then she would get angry. Go, be in love, JJ would think, I don’t care. But that was a complete lie, because she would remember all the times you’d smile at her. Really smile. A smile she swore you’d never give that man. She saw the two of you together, she saw the forced smile you gave him in the rare moments he’d hold your hand, kiss your cheek, and be a semi-decent partner. It’s what confused her the most about this situation. It also, unfortunately, gave her this false sense of hope that maybe you didn’t feel the way you said you felt. 

But then again, why did you fall apart every time he left? Why did you run back into his arms every time he came back? JJ found herself laying awake in bed at night way too often, just mulling over these questions for hours. She didn’t get her answer, but this time… This time was the last straw. 

She knew what was going on within seconds of seeing your face. It was the way your eyes were just slightly puffy and how you’d let out a small sigh before throwing on a forced smile. To your credit, you were really good at selling that smile, but JJ just knew. You walked around the office, your eyes never really focusing on any one thing. Your mind was obviously elsewhere than whatever task was at hand. The team didn’t seem to pay much mind, too busy closing up a case, while you did your own duties alone in your little corner of the BAU. JJ knew exactly what all of this meant and she felt herself get angry this time. It was a new feeling for her; a break in the routine. She usually was just concerned for you and angry at him, but this time it was just the whole situation. 

So, when she got you alone in her office, the back and forth was a little different. It started out the same, though. You did that avoidance thing. The thing where you gave her a pained smile and swore up and down you were fine, while she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. JJ wasn’t buying it at all. She never did.

“Really,” you sighed, “I don’t want to get into it.” 

“Of course you don’t.” JJ rolled her eyes and your own widened. She had never been even remotely snappy with you. “Because it's probably the same shit it always is. God,” she scoffed, “Why do you let him jerk you around like this?” 

You stood there, your eyes filled with disbelief, and you both just stared. If JJ were being honest, she wasn’t proud of that. She was a little shocked all of it came out of her mouth and even more shocked at how harsh her tone was. 

“You don’t get it.” Your tone wasn’t exactly harsh like JJ’s, but she could tell she struck a nerve. 

“What’s there to get?” JJ threw her hands up, obviously letting her frustration boil over. She got this far, might as well keep pushing. Did JJ think it was a good idea? No, maybe not, but she wanted you to finally get a grip on the reality of this relationship. It was clearly not good for you. “He’s not reliable. He doesn't consider your feelings. He clearly hurts you every single time he goes off and fucks up. And god, he has fucked up so often.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your tone was a warning. “You don’t know everything.” 

“What then?” JJ knew she was pressing. She knew she was pissing you off, but frankly she didn’t care. She couldn’t watch you fall apart again only to go back to the very person who kept mistreating you. She couldn’t handle you choosing him again instead of her. “Jesus, what is his hold on you? Why do you let him treat you like shit? You run back to him every damn time too! It’s— fuck, it’s ridiculous! Why don’t you have more self worth when it comes to him?” 

You definitely did not look pleased right now. Your face was twisted into a tight lipped frown and JJ didn’t think she’s ever seen you look at her like that. Her eyes flicked down to your hands and saw the way they were balled into fists, before looking back up, finally into your eyes. That’s when the anger fled her body and was immediately placed with crushing guilt. Your face told her you were pissed, but your eyes… Always those god damn eyes of yours. They were so expressive and JJ could read them better than anyone. She saw, hidden behind this anger, the pain and, to her confusion, the fear. 

An uncomfortable tension filled the room and finally you took a slow, deep breath. Your eyes closed for a minute and JJ noticed the way your hands squeezed for a second before you relaxed them. When your eyes reopened and met hers, she realized you were trying to calm yourself down. It was like you had that routine down, like it was a factory reset of your own emotions, and she wondered how often you had to do that. Her gut twisted when she realized you needed to because of her. 

“I said I was fine,” you said in the most monotone voice. “So, if you don’t need anything else, I have files I need to get back to.” 

JJ’s jaw clenched as she realized that you, for the first time, were shutting down in front of her— because of her. She gave a short nod and turned her eyes to the floor as you walked right out of her office. 

Fuck, she thought. JJ had fucked up with you. She pushed when you warned her not to and now she has some apologizing to do. Then again, she still was curious about the look in your eyes. What exactly weren’t you telling her? You said she didn’t know everything, so what else was there? Something told JJ whatever it was would just make her even more angry about this whole situation. 

———————————-

This might look bad. That’s what JJ was worried about as she stood in front of your door with a bag full of takeout boxes of your favorite foods. It might look like she was pushing, and she absolutely was. That was her goal anyways. She needed to know whatever it was you weren’t telling her. 

It took a couple of minutes of pacing in front of your door before she finally took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and knocked. Her grip tightened on the bag of food, and she took a few more slow breathes as she waited for you to answer.

Thank god you lived alone. For whatever reason the two of you had never moved in together and as far as she knew, you had no intentions of doing that. That was something at least. That you understood a little that if he treated you so badly when you spent time together, living with him 24/7 would make your situation even worse. 

JJ’s foot tapped on the ground as she waited outside your apartment. She couldn’t hear if you were coming to the door or not, but she knew you were home. When you finally did rip the door open, there was absolutely no surprise in your eyes when you saw that it was her on the other side. Was she really that predictable? JJ fully understood that to everyone else who knew about her feelings for you, it looked like she was some lovesick puppy, following you around until you finally opened your eyes. The fact that you weren’t surprised she was standing at your door stung a little. 

“I came bearing gifts.” JJ held up the bag of food. “And to apologize. Can I come in?”

You didn’t reply, but you didn’t have to. All you did was step out of the way so she could enter and she knew all was forgiven. 

JJ knew your apartment well at this point. There were too many nights she spent just sitting next to you in your living room, sleeping next to you on your bed, taking in everything about your space that felt very you. Of course, all of this time she spent there with you, you were none the wiser about the fact that it made her heart go crazy. How could you know that sharing a bed made her ache to reach out for you? Or know that spending so much time in your personal space felt almost like a domestic bliss JJ so badly wanted to share with you? You had no idea and it tugged at her heart in the most uncomfortable way each time. 

She knew your apartment so well that, as she walked into the kitchen, she didn’t even wait for you to get anything. JJ already started rummaging through your cabinets for plates and your drawers for silverware, knowing exactly where to find them. You just stood back and watched as JJ plated the food, never saying a word. Not a lot of things unsettled JJ, but your silence was always one of them. When you were silent, it meant you were really hurting or stressed. She could imagine, right now you might be feeling both or— she thought back to that look of fear in your eyes— perhaps it meant something worse? Was your mind preoccupied with something scaring you? 

“So…” JJ broke the silence herself, handing you the plate as she spoke. “I stopped by that place you like on 4th street.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the plate and turning to go to your couch. She followed after you. You owned a dining table. Granted, it was small, but plenty of room for you two and all the food JJ over-ordered. But JJ liked to think you chose to sit on the couch and eat there because of how close you two could be. Hopeful thinking again, she realized that, but damn… she had it bad. 

“Listen,” JJ started as she sat down next to you. “I’m sorry about my outburst today.” She paused for a moment, reading your face. Your expression was neutral, but she knew you were listening and receptive. You were always so kind, too kind for your boyfriend, so she wasn’t worried you would be angry for long. “I just hate seeing when you hurt. And I worry that you’re not okay… That something is really bothering you.”

“I’m fine,” you said in a very unconvincing tone as you absentmindedly pushed your food around on the plate. 

“You say that but…” JJ trailed off and didn’t continue that thought when she saw the warning glance you gave her. She dropped it for a moment, but she was going to bring it back up. Just not yet. 

As you both ate, conversation turned to unimportant things. It was obvious that you were both avoiding the pressing subject— your shitty boyfriend. Or maybe ex-boyfriend if JJ was lucky this time. When you two were done JJ took both your plates without waiting for you to get up and made her way to the kitchen. She was entirely too aware of the way your eyes stayed glued to her as she washed the dishes, dried them, and put them back in their rightful place.

You would do that sometimes. Just stare at her when you thought she wasn’t looking or wasn’t aware. But she always knew. JJ was always aware of you, even if you weren’t aware of her. It was like she had finely tuned herself to notice every little thing about you, whether she meant to or not. She just had to be and at first she didn’t understand why. Then, when she realized it was because she was in love with you, it all made sense. It was blatantly obvious that the man you kept running back to wasn’t taking care of you in the slightest, so JJ did it instead. Deep down, she hoped you would notice; hoped you would understand that she would treat you better than he ever would. But it’s been a year of her pining and your constant heartbreak and still things between you and JJ haven’t changed. 

When she was done with everything she sat down next to you again and, to her relief, you scooted closer. Her eyes studied you and she wondered if now was the time to press again. However, this time she was going to be more gentle. 

“Listen,” she started. “I know it’s a touchy subject, but I really want to talk about-”

“Can we just not please?” Your eyes left hers and she watched the way your body shifted uncomfortably on the couch. At least you didn’t scoot away from her. That was one small relief for JJ. 

“I think we need to.” JJ was trying to keep her tone as gentle as possible this time. Patience, she must have patience with you. Clearly, there were some details she was unaware of. You hinted at as much, anyway. “I just don’t understand why this keeps happening. You do know you deserve far better than him right? That you don’t deserve all the pain he puts you through.”

You nodded slowly, your shoulders slumping as your eyes fell to your fidgeting hands. It was absolutely clear in that moment, to JJ, that you did know you deserved better. A spark of irritation filled her chest, but she tried to take a couple of deep breaths. She didn’t know the full story, she was trying to convince herself that maybe what you said next would be a good reason for why you still stayed.

“It’s complicated, JJ,” you breathed a shaky sigh. “I know he treats me like crap, but there’s a reason I stay. He takes care of me…” 

“Are you sure about that?” JJ’s jaw clenched as she thought of all the times he’d fuck up. “Because it looks like he could care less about your feelings or your wellbeing for that matter.”

“No.”  You shook your head hard. “No, not in that way. It’s…” Your eyes closed tightly and you took another deep breath. It was at that moment that something clicked for JJ. It was a face you made every once in a while when you brought your boyfriend around and he said something stupid. It was a look of shame that had washed over you and whatever irritation JJ had felt a moment ago was replaced with a feeling of worry. “It’s that with him around I feel… protected, I guess.”

“Protected?” JJ’s brows furrowed as she tried to understand. You worked at the BAU, so of course you saw some scary stuff. You weren’t one of the members who would go out in the field, sure, which meant you didn’t have all the training of an agent, but you had the basics. She didn’t think even for a second you’d be afraid of anything coming back on you from the job. It wasn’t like your face was even known to anyone involved in any one of the cases. 

“Not– It’s not from the job,” you quickly corrected, reading exactly where JJ’s confusion was coming from. “I had this boyfriend back in undergrad. Things didn’t exactly end the way he wanted it to.”

JJ felt like her stomach was dropping as she watched you fidget even more. She knew, whatever you were about to say would tie everything together for her, but it still made her feel sick. The idea of you being scared of anyone made her feel unimaginably uncomfortable for you. 

“Ever since, he’s just kind of been around,” you shut your eyes tight for a moment before continuing. “I could move and then, somehow, I’d just bump into him. He would always be there when I met someone new. He just– He hovers. He’s never hurt me, but then again I don’t ever want to let my guard down.” 

“So with your boyfriend then…?” She was still trying to put the pieces together of where your current boyfriend fit in. It didn’t quite make sense that you would leave one shitty guy and then find another.

“My boyfriend scares him. It wasn’t always bad between us, not at the very beginning. He was protective and I felt safe. There was this one time when he caught on that we were being followed– He made this big show of how protective he was. Ever since then, I’ve felt a little less like I need to keep looking over my shoulder.” 

JJ was nodding patiently as you explained. Suddenly, she understood just about everything. It wasn’t that you were so heartbroken that he was treating you so badly, that he would cheat on you, that he would disregard your feelings, it was that he provided something important for you. Something that helped you just exist without having to be terrified all the time. It made sense now to JJ. She knew how important it was to feel safe, to feel protected. It broke her heart that you thought you needed to put up with poor treatment just to be safe. Didn’t you know she could protect you so much better than your boyfriend ever could?

“Why are you just telling me this now?” JJ’s voice was gentle, barely a whisper. She felt like if she were to push anymore you’d break in front of her. 

“I don’t know, I was ashamed. Maybe? But I know you’re tired of seeing me go through the same routine with him. He always does this thing where he’ll run off with someone else and I’ll be scared, but it’s not– I’m not scared of losing him, just of being alone. I was so tired of looking over my shoulder, but when he showed up it was better… He always comes back though. Always.” 

It was like you were trying to convince yourself of that fact. The way you gulped right after you said that, your eyes looking anywhere but at JJ. You knew she could read you, that she could tell when you had doubts or were lying. JJ wondered if you really thought he would come back this time? She knew it might be selfish, after all the things you just told her, but she hoped he never would come back. If he made a show of protecting you to your stalker, then she could make a better one if she needed to.

“And if he doesn’t?” JJ knew this question was going to be a hard one for you to answer, but she needed you to see that he wasn’t the answer to your problem.

“He will.” You said that almost as if it were a bad thing. Or maybe JJ was reading into it.

“You don’t need him to,” JJ urged. Okay, so now maybe she was being a bit more selfish, but she also wanted you to know that even if he didn’t come back you’d be safe. JJ would protect you with her life, she thought you understood that already. Even if you didn’t know what feelings she had for you exactly, she thought you knew how important you were to her in general. “You don’t need his protection.”

You let out a bitter chuckle at that and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” you snorted. “JJ, I’m not a field agent like you. It’s not that easy for me to protect myself when I’ve only got the bare basics of self-defense down. By the time I have more skill in that, my ex will have already made an appearance or worse.”

“That’s not what I meant.” JJ was trying to give you the most determined look she could give you and you looked back at her, clearly confused. 

Realization dawned on you as you understood what she was implying. “I can’t expect you to always be there.”

“I would.” She didn’t miss a beat. Her tone was almost pleading. “I’d protect you and– I don’t know, I can teach you to protect yourself in the meantime. Just–” She was getting desperate as she watched the way you shook your head in protest with every word she said. “Please, just let me. Please.” 

“JJ, shh,” you cooed, your arms suddenly coming up to pull her into an embrace. For a moment, JJ felt pathetic. It was her job right now to console you, but here you were holding her and trying to calm her. She didn’t realize how upset she was about this whole situation. She hated that you were allowing yourself to be mistreated just so you could have some sense of protection from another bad relationship of your past. She hated that you felt scared at all, she never wanted you to feel that way. More than anything, she hated that you didn’t think she would protect you, that you even needed your horrible boyfriend in the first place, when she was right here practically screaming choose me, pick me! 

“I’ll be okay,” you murmured, your hand running up and down her back in a way to comfort her. Only, instead it made her heart race. Her arms wrapped around you now, holding you close for a moment. “You don’t need to take this on, okay? I can handle this.”

It wasn’t like that for JJ. It wasn’t a burden for her to take on, it was something she’d do for the rest of her life happily if you let her. It was something that she already was doing, even if you weren’t aware of it. Whether you felt the same as her or not, she would protect you with her life for as long as you would have her around. She had to make you understand that.

So she pulled back a little from the embrace. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” she whispered as her eyes searched yours. You looked back at her with a soft, wistful gaze, but you let her continue. “Let me be here for you instead…” She trailed off and started to lean in. It was now or never, and her eyes closed just as yours widened. But still, you didn’t move, you didn’t pull away, clearly knowing exactly what JJ’s intentions were. Instead, you held perfectly still until finally, for the first time, JJ’s lips met yours.

The kiss was gentle and earth shattering all at the same time. JJ was scared you’d pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, your lips parted for a brief moment, a slow exhale fell from your lips onto hers and she shuttered. She expected you to pull back, but instead you waited and she kissed you again. When she kissed you this time, you instantly melted into her. It was like every nerve ending in JJ had finally woken up. The moment she had waited for so long was happening and it was better than she ever imagined it to be. 

Her hands tightened around your waist and the small sound you let out, as you were pressed closer to her chest, made her heart skip a beat. Your hands were holding onto her for dear life. She could feel a slight tremble from your body, but when she thought she should pull away, you kissed her harder. 

One of JJ’s hands left your waist, only to reach up and cup your cheek. You had never been kissed so lovingly, so deeply in your entire life. JJ, on her part, was trying to pour every ounce of love she’s ever had for you into the way she was kissing you. It was intoxicating for both of you. For a moment, everything melted away. There was no tension between you two, there was no shitty boyfriend that JJ was desperate to get you away from, there were no unspoken feelings that plagued JJ’s mind every waking minute. There was only you and her and this moment. A moment that meant everything to JJ. 

But it was fleeting. Maybe JJ had pushed it a little too much. One second she was brushing her tongue lightly along your bottom lip, a small gasp escaping from you as she did. The next, you were pushing her back and she was blinking at you in confusion over the abrupt change. 

“What are you doing?” You said breathlessly. Your eyes were shining and JJ realized they were rimmed with tears that had yet to fall. JJ was kicking herself. Obviously, she had rushed this way too much. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have–” 

“I don’t need you to do this, JJ,” you interrupted. “You don’t have to. Just because I’m scared of being alone doesn’t mean– you don’t have to make this sacrifice just so I can feel safe.”

“What?” JJ was trying as hard as she could to understand what you meant. Sacrifice what? Her own safety? Surely, that couldn’t be what you meant. JJ’s own job put her safety at risk constantly, so you had to understand that she wasn’t worried about that when it came to being with you. She would be safe and she’d keep you safe, it wasn’t a problem. So what were you talking about?

“I don’t want you to think you have to be with me in order to fix all my problems. That’s not fair to you. Or to us.” You were squeezing your eyes shut so tight as you spoke and JJ realized the hands still pressed to her shoulders were trembling even harder now. 

“I don’t think that,” JJ put her hands over yours, trying to calm you. She was starting to understand now and her heart ached for you yet again. Of course, you’re so used to being treated badly that you didn’t even realize how genuine JJ was trying to be. “Just…” she let go of one of your hands to brush away a tear that had fallen down your cheek, “be with me instead.”

“Oh.” That was all you said. Things were clicking for you now too. The word instead rang through your ears and suddenly it all made sense. “Oh,” you repeated, this time with more shock in your voice. JJ was putting it all out there for you now and nerves were getting the best of her. But what would it look like if she backed out now? If she couldn’t handle the fear of being vulnerable in front of you, how could she show you that she could protect you from the things you feared most? 

“JJ,” your voice was barely above a whisper, “Have you always had feelings for me?”

She swallowed hard. It was a question she knew was coming, but still, that didn’t make this moment any easier. If she was going to put herself out there, then she might as well bare it all. Yet, words escaped her. Her heart pounded in her chest so loud, she could hear its beat ringing through her ears. All she could manage was a nod. 

You sat back a little and it looked like you got the wind kicked out of you. It was very clear to JJ now that you really had absolutely no clue about how she felt. In all fairness, that wasn’t a surprise for JJ. She was probably a little too good at keeping a poker face around you, even if she didn’t mean to. Although, with you, for so long she was terrified of you finding her out and losing you all together. She warred with herself for so long on telling you about her feelings, but the idea of ruining your friendship and losing you forever felt worse than never having you in the way that she wanted. But here it all was, out in the open. 

“For how long?” Your question wasn’t harsh, just genuinely confused. 

“I don’t know,” JJ admitted. “Maybe they’ve always been here. It took me a while to realize it, but then you…” She didn’t need to continue for you to understand. There was always your boyfriend, so JJ thought there was never a good time. It was your turn for your heart to break for her. All the instances where you’d question her actions, her looks that she shot your way, all of it hit you. The realization was shocking in some ways, but made complete sense in others. And, for the first time, you realized just how much it pained her to watch you stay with someone who treated you with very little disregard. You thought back now to all the times you had run back into his arms and all the times she was just forced to watch. The hurt that must’ve caused her, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. 

“I had no idea,” you mumbled. But then again, maybe you did? In the entire time you knew her, she had one relationship. It was a relationship she was already in when the two of you met, and it lasted maybe three or four months after you’d gotten to know each other. When it ended, JJ didn’t say much about why, just that it was for the best. Now you understood; it was because of you. “Or… I think I didn’t. I– I don’t really know either.”

JJ’s eyes stayed on you. She could tell you were going in circles in your own mind, trying to better understand this new development. Guilt was washing over her as she realized she’d put something complicated onto you, on top of all the other complicated factors you had just told her you were juggling. The kiss was a mistake. JJ knew the timing was horrible, but would she take it back? Absolutely not. Not even when you were looking at her in a way that told her she was about to get her heart ripped out. Her whole body tensed as she waited for the rejection she thought was coming, but still you just… sat there and stared. 

You kept opening your mouth for a second, seeming like you had something to say, but then backing out a moment later. JJ knew whatever you were going to say wasn’t going to be easy for either of you, but she also knew you definitely had something you wanted to get out. She didn’t say anything in response to you, she just kept waiting for you to resume talking. Part of her hoped that whatever you said, it would be a good thing. Another part of her, a bigger part, worried that you were struggling so much because you were trying to tell her she made you uncomfortable and you didn’t quite know how to best reject her. Little did you know, it didn’t matter how hard you were going to reject her. JJ was going to stay by your side. Now more than ever, she understood how important that was for you. 

Still, the silence was getting deafening for JJ. You stopped trying to talk and just looked down at your lap. JJ was about to finally break it when you did eventually decide to look back up at her.

“I think,” you began, “Maybe, I need a little time to wrap my head around this.”

JJ nodded hard, her heart thudding in her chest. It wasn’t what she expected you to say. It wasn’t even necessarily a good thing, but it wasn’t a rejection. She’d settle for that. “Of course,” she rapidly replied. “I know, it’s a lot. Today was a lot.” She stood up for a moment, anxiously looking around the room, trying to figure out her next move. “I’ll– I can give you space for the night. I should– Yeah, I should go.”

When your shining eyes looked up at her, it was like JJ’s world stood still. You had such sadness in them, such exhaustion. It was hard for her to see when she knew she caused even the smallest portion of it. You didn’t deserve everything you were dealing with. And to deal with it in silence for so long? It crushed her that you were just telling her all of this now.  

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you stared up at her. Your head nodded the slightest bit, but JJ saw it. “Just for tonight,” you said in the smallest voice. JJ gave you a pained smile, one that she hoped would read to you that she understood completely. 

JJ did as she said and found herself back home in her empty apartment before she could even realize how she managed to get there. The minute she stepped out of your place, all throughout the drive, and even as she laid in bed there was only one thing on her mind. Would things be different if she had known sooner?

She fell asleep with what if scenarios running through her head. Ideas of the two of you being happy somewhere far away from anything you feared. Far away from the shitty boyfriend you thought you had to be stuck with. 

———————————-

JJ wanted to give you all the space she could possibly give you, but it wasn’t that easy. Now that she knew what she knew, it was hard for her to take her eyes off you for even a second. Not that it wasn’t already hard for her to do so without the information she now had, but now there was an extra layer to it. She felt more protective than ever, but she also knew you needed some space from her to process. So, she was constantly internally debating with herself.

You had told her you wanted space just for the night, but then you didn’t really talk to her the next day or the next or even the rest of the week after that. She kept her eye on you still, even if your eyes would never meet hers or you’d shift and squirm when she was near. It was killing her inside. A lot sooner than was probably healthy, a horrible thought popped into JJ’s head that had her spiraling. What if she had messed everything up? What if she ruined her friendship with you because she brought up her feelings?

The kiss kept replaying in JJ’s mind though, and she swore up and down that you kissed her back that night. Yes, you were the one to pull away, but before then, it felt like everything JJ was trying to give, you wanted to reciprocate. Maybe that was just all in JJ’s head, but she really didn’t think so. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t have kissed you at all. Maybe in her mind, everything seemed so different than it actually was. She just kept going on and on spiraling further into this thought process with each passing minute that she hadn’t heard from you.

Finally, after over a week of work, JJ had a day off coming up. Nothing had changed between you and her, you were still very much avoiding her. It was exhausting JJ, how worried she was about your wellbeing, how worried she was about the state of your friendship with her, how  worried in general she was about all of it. JJ didn’t even have a minute to really sit down and take in the fact that it was also hurting her, knowing that she was probably rejected by you and her wishful thinking was just that– wishful thinking. But now she has a day off. A day to process. JJ didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing for her. For one, she got space away from seeing how uncomfortable you were, but then she couldn’t keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. On the other hand, she could actually sit and think about how she was feeling and how to approach the silence you were giving her. However, she knew the minute she really started to think about it her heart would ache. JJ liked to think she was strong, but even she had her limits. 

So how did she spend her day off then? By wallowing in her apartment and nursing her expected heartbreak ahead of time. At one point she did get dressed to go work out, but she never made it out of her apartment. She just stayed in her clean gym clothes and sat back on the couch, the idea of possibly running into you in the gym (even if she knew you’d probably be busy elsewhere) was too much of a risk. 

When evening came and she finished checking her texts, missed calls, emails, and everything else you might message her on, she decided maybe she should get food. Before she even decided what she wanted to get delivered— there was still no way she was leaving her apartment at this point —she heard a knock on her door. Her eyebrows furrowed, there was no package she was expecting, no conversation with anyone else about coming over, nothing that warranted this knock. 

With an exasperated sigh, she hoisted herself off the couch to go see who it was. It hadn’t been that long since the first knock that she heard another, more frantic tapping at her door. She huffed again, frustrated that whoever was on the other end was both impatient and interrupted her night of self loathing. A third knock came and she was getting a little pissed at this point.

Usually, being an agent at the BAU, she has a strict habit of checking the peephole before swinging a door open to an unexpected guest. But JJ hadn’t really been thinking clearly lately, so why start now when she could tell off the irritating person on the other side? Except, when she swung open the door she utterly froze.

She didn’t expect you to show up tonight, not when you had been actively avoiding her for days. Not to mention, you had never really needed to knock on her door. You had a key and both of you had a habit of just waltzing into each other’s places. So, you were definitely her last guess for who was waiting on the other side.

When JJ’s shocked eyes fell on you, you looked back up at her with the look of a deer caught in the headlights. JJ’s first reaction was to ask you why you seemed so scared if you were the one avoiding her for days and then showing up at her doorstep, but she held her tongue.

“Listen, okay here’s the thing…” you started suddenly. “I thought about the night, about what happened. Okay— so I took longer than I said and I’m sorry about that, but I have a good reason. I think, maybe.” You were rambling. JJ’s eyes were still filled with shock but she still had the sense to step out of the way when you pushed yourself into her apartment. “It’s just that,” you kept talking as you let yourself in, “this isn’t just something you do quickly, you know? I was with him for a while, and you and I… I’ve never connected with someone on the level I have with you. So if there was ever an inkling that I might lose our connection, even if it’s the smallest chance—“

“(Y/N), you would never lose me.” JJ had the sense to butt in with that, but your hand came up immediately after to signal her to stop whatever explanation she was ready to give you. 

“Even then… The idea is terrifying,” you looked back at her with pleading eyes. Her heart sank as she began to realize where this conversation might be going. You were still pacing and she so desperately wanted to stop you and tell you not to worry about it. You didn’t have to say them to her tonight. She didn’t know if she could manage to hear the words you might say, but she didn’t dare move from the doorway. 

“This isn’t coming out how I planned.” You pressed your hands to your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “But…” you dropped your hands and gave JJ an intense look. “Then I thought about that night and all the other nights I’ve spent with you and I thought about… that kiss.” You both gulped as you said the word. “It was,” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “It was eye opening. It made me realize something…”

JJ was holding her breath. She really wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but she really was internally begging for you to rip off the bandage. 

You took a deep breath and tried to center yourself for what you wanted to say next. JJ was on edge where she stood, trying not to let you see the way her hands trembled as she waited.

“JJ, I want to be with you.” The words were out there and JJ’s eyes widened the second she took that in.

“What?” It wasn’t that JJ didn’t hear you, it was that she was in a state of mild shock.

“I have feelings for you too. I think I’ve always known how you felt, how I felt even. I just wasn’t sure how to face it…” Your eyes fell to the floor, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you perhaps ever had been. “But then when you left that night it was all so clear to me.” 

JJ took a few steps towards you, her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest. “Then why did you ignore me for days?”

“I wasn’t trying to.” You looked back up at her with apologetic eyes. “I said I wanted to do things right and I do. So, I wanted to make sure I put a permanent end to my relationship. All his stuff needed to be out, I needed to tell him that— You know, that this was really it. Which I did, last night. And then it took me all day to figure out what to say to you.” You let out a soft laugh and shook your head. “I had this whole script planned out. I didn’t use any of it. This has to be the messiest way to tell someone you want to be with them.” 

Finally, JJ’s face shifted from shock to a soft smile. She took another step and then another until she was right in front of you. “I think it still worked out well.” 

You took a step towards her and whispered, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded before reaching for your waist. She leaned in and her lips pressed against yours for the first time since that night. And just like that first time, you melted into it. 

———————————-

When you made up your mind to finally tell her that you wanted to be with her, you had also told yourself that you would do things right, take things slow. However, when your back hit her mattress and you looked down at the foot of the bed to see JJ crawling up your body… Well, that ship had long sailed. Even JJ had a similar thought when you finally admitted that you wanted to be with her, but that idea quickly went out the window the minute she felt your whole body press into hers as she kissed you. Her resolve only broke further the more the two of you pulled at each other’s clothes as you made it to her bedroom.

There was still a part of both of your minds that told you two that maybe things should slow down, but then when you looked at her, pupils blown, a slight blush across your face, that idea left her mind entirely. And when she looked back at you, nothing but adoration in her eyes as her hands ran up and down your half-naked body, any worry about going too fast was erased from yours too. This was JJ after all. It wasn’t like you didn’t know her. You did, you truly knew her. Perhaps deeper than most people can know one another. 

So there you both were. JJ was hovering over your body at this point and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the beautiful tone of her bare stomach as she waited above you in nothing but a sports bra. Without even thinking, your hands made their way to her stomach and your nails, ever so softly, raked down her skin. You watched in awe as JJ shivered and her eyes filled with lust; a look entirely new for you to see. 

JJ cupped your chin and dipped her head down. The way she kissed you, slow and deep, had your chest heaving and your heart racing. Your nails dragged across her stomach until they reached around her back and you pressed her down. Now her barely clothed form was pressed against your matching half naked body. Her hand didn’t leave your chin as her tongue traced around your own. You, for the most part, could only grip at her closer as you continued to kiss her. All of these feelings, of her pressed against you, the way she kissed  and touched you, everything was just overwhelming your senses in the best way. Finally, when you felt JJ’s other hand start to brush down your stomach until she pressed the palm of her hand to your bare thigh, did you start to ground yourself in the feeling of her touch. Her fingers gently traced circles on your inner thigh as she kept kissing you, with each passing second getting closer and closer to where you wanted her most. 

JJ pulled back just a little, her lips still barely ghosting over yours. Her fingers were playing with the edge of your panties and you realized she was trying to get your consent. Your heart swelled for the care she was giving you. It was something that might just be considered the bare minimum, but when JJ did it, it showed just how much she respected and felt for you. All of this felt new to you tonight, not just the fact that you were about to be with JJ for the first time in a way that you had never expected before, but everything else about the encounter. Never had you felt someone cherish you as much as she did and that feeling intensified with each little touch.

You gave her a small nod, your arms moving up her back to wrap around her neck and pull her lips back down to meet yours. As you resumed the kiss, you let a small gasp out against her lips the moment you felt her fingertips dip into your panties and brush against your clit.

Her fingers stroked slowly across it once and then twice and you couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped from you. JJ wanted to take this slow, to soak in every single sound you made and how good you felt, but it wasn’t easy. Part of her wanted to just let go of everything, to let go of the long time she spent bottling things up, but she knew you needed to feel the love and adoration she had for you before she could dive in and finally indulge in what she’s wanted for so long. 

Her fingers started to trace small circles around your clit and her lips left yours to kiss across your jaw. Your eyes were screwed shut again and your hips were moving ever so slightly with the way her fingers were working on your clit. JJ’s eyes were fixated on the way your face looked, flushed and twisted in the pleasure she was giving you. Your lips parted slightly to let out a small whimper and that was when JJ knew she needed to pick up the pace. Her fingers pressed more firmly on your clit and the way they moved against it sped up. Your hips kept moving in time with her hand, trying to get more friction. JJ’s other hand went to your breast, pushing your bra up so that she could have access to your nipples. Her fingers traced around each one as her lips made their way down your neck. Neither of you seemed to notice or care that the way she started nipping and kissing at the skin there was surely going to leave visible marks. 

The feelings she was building up in you was starting to become too much, but you still wanted more. The way she focused on your clit felt amazing, but you wanted to feel her– to really have her. Without hesitation, one of your hands untangled itself from around JJ to reach down and grab her wrist. Both of you were shocked by the bold move, but neither of you minded, when you pushed her hand down further into your panties. JJ knew exactly what you wanted and let her fingers circle your entrance. 

You took a few deep breaths, your hand leaving her wrist to go back to pressing her body closer to yours. JJ’s lips moved down to your chest and the moment you felt her fingers start to push into you, you also felt her take one of your nipples into her mouth.

“Oh!” You did not mean to gasp as loudly as you did, but after that gasp came a moan as you felt JJ’s two fingers sink deeper into you before pulling out almost completely and pushing back in. She wasn’t going fast, but she wasn’t necessarily going slow either. The angle was a little awkward with your lower half still partially clothed, but you desperately wanted her to keep going. Eventually, your legs fell open wider to give her more space and your arms left JJ again only for a moment to frustratingly pull your panties down and kick them off. With those off, and JJ’s fingers back inside you, your head rolled back again. You couldn’t stop the constant, desperate moans and gasps that left your lips. 

JJ, in the meantime, had been busy switching between your breasts, marking up each of them and running her tongue across both nipples. When she started to feel your legs shake, she knew she needed to speed up. Her lips moved back to your neck, kissing over the marks she had left behind previously. Her fingers curled and your nails pressed into her skin. The sting of it didn’t even bother her, she was too lost in this moment with you. You were practically crying out her name with each pump of her fingers inside you. She wasn’t aware of much else other than the way you felt around her fingers. 

“I love you.” Her voice was muffled into your neck, barely above a whisper. “I love you…” she breathed again, her fingers pumping faster inside you while your nails dug harder into her back.

It took a moment for those words to sink in. Words you didn’t expect to hear so soon. Especially not now, not during your first night together like this. But they were out there, whether JJ meant for you to hear or not. 

Your body tensed for just a moment, even if you didn’t mean to. You had hoped JJ wouldn’t notice, but like always she did. Her head pulled back, her fingers slowed to a stop but never pulled out. Immediately when she met your eyes hers filled with panic. Probably because you looked back up at her with shock.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean for–” She started to pull away. “I know this isn’t the best time to say–”

Your hands clenched harder onto her back, trying your best to get her to stop pulling away from you. “I love you too,” you whispered. It wasn’t something you expected to say, but suddenly as you looked up at her, you realized it was the truest feeling you’ve ever had. 

Her eyes searched yours for a moment. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded hard, your hand pressed to the nape of her neck to encourage her to lean down and kiss you once again. As she did, her fingers resumed from the pace that they had left off. 

One of JJ’s hands came down to your thigh, grabbing it to hook across her waist. Her fingers hit just the right spot deep inside you and you broke the kiss to moan out a breathy, “I love you.” JJ’s pace sped up even more and that was all it seemed like you knew how to say. You kept saying it until finally, finally you came hard on her fingers.

JJ slowed her pace, letting you ride out your orgasm until you finally took a deep breath. Your eyes stayed closed and JJ, ever so slowly, pulled her fingers out of you.

“Wow,” you panted. 

“Yeah,” JJ let out a breathless chuckle. “Wow.” Her hands came up to cup your face again and you pressed a kiss to her palm. 

“I do really love you,” you whispered. “I don’t know how it took me this long to see that…”

She shook her head before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re here now and that’s what matters.”

Your arms pulled JJ tighter into you and you knew she was right. Despite how long it took you to put up with the bad treatment and accept the fact that she was there this whole time, you two were here now. Together and in love. This was just the beginning of it, and you knew that not only were you finally able to feel truly safe, but that feeling would never go. As long as you had JJ, you felt no fear.

Tags: @demonicbaby666 @storiesofsvu @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @finleyfray @natashamaximoff69 @inlovewithemilyprentiss @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @dj-bynum3718 @noahrex

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[thesamoanqueen]

Beast

A/N: my lovely @harmshake asked me what the "beast mode" that journalists attribute to Roman is for me. I have a clear idea, because he has already talked about it, but I wanted to try something in a sort of headcanon/imagine, a type of fanfiction I hadn't tried yet here. [warnings: 18+ smut, jealousy, protective prompt}

Between the two of you, the one with the more visceral attitude was you and it was not surprising considering every woman is forced to fight for everything on a daily basis. Roman, not the Tribal Chief the crowds was used to, was a man it was simple to feel at ease, great listener, good manners and hypercritical mind on a personal level. He was a mama's boy, not because he was spoiled - even if it was true -, but in his ability to understand, give and care, qualities every man should have and which unfortunately were lacking in most boys. However there were moments, scenarios, in which he too gave in to the less soft side of himself and when he finally snapped, it was like facing a beast that had forgotten had been tamed.

#Jealousy

Your relationship was his top priority, his jealousy didn’t come from insecurity or doubts and for this reason perhaps it would have been more appropriate refer to it as territoriality, rather than jealousy. Seeing you admired, at work as much as in private life, filled him with satisfaction and pride, for him there was no pedestal too high for you. When admiration became something more though, that part of him less inclined or not at all to tolerate woke up in full force, pushing him to mark and protect what was his without worrying about anything else.

The overly insistent glances put him on alert, the whispered proposals in an effort to lure you away from him made his mouth twitch, but it was the attempts to invade your personal space that drove him crazy. He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, he never stood by though and watched when some mr. nobody put a bad idea into practice and it didn't matter if there was too many drinks or an agreement between sides where it was necessary stay cordial to justify it. It was then that his hands found you, sliding along your back or pulling you by his side in an intimate touch to show he was the only one chosen for such a privilege. You would have recognized him just by the touch, even blindfolded, but it wasn't necessary because with his hands, all his presence came: solid body pressed close to reassure, shield you and intimidate anyone who thought could get over him and his voice, so soft, caring in your ears as he made sure you were okay and threatening to anyone unfortunate enough to deserve direct confrontation.

- "Back off" – the target almost never understood what was happening, staring in silence.

- "You heard me. Take a step back, two and three, all the way until you get back from wherever you came from. Or maybe you want a lil help, hm boy?"

The few who had tried to resist intimidation, even assert themselves, had regretted it the moment next, ending up in a match they could never have won and which they quit at the first serious grab as you said your prayers to bring Roman back to his senses.

#Dangers

As with jealousy, his patience reached the bottom even when you found yourself, as he said, in potential dangerous situations. Organizing and planning was part of your job duties, it wasn't often that something was beyond your control, but unexpected events happened on trips and was when plans changed that Roman didn't like it, especially if he wasn't physically there with you to deal with whatever what’s going on. A delayed flight at an inconvenient time, an impromptu hotel in an unsafe city triggered a chain reaction you most often tried to avoid, managing it without warning him or giving too many details. But Roman seemed to have a sense, reading between lines and then calls and messages began, to know where you were and what or why was happening, ending with an epochal argument on the phone when you finally confessed - even if in the end it was resolved all for the best -.

- "This isn't up for discussion! Im going to come between you and anything bad in your damn life! You should have told me!"

It wasn’t a mania, but real concern and the only reason why you put up with his outbursts. The idea in his mind of not being there when you could have needed him made his blood boil, see things more dramatic than expected. You had gotten into real problems years before, a few bad moments that had taught you a lot and for which he had jumped on the first available flight or in a car, forgetting to rest even after too many hours of work, consuming miles to even reach the other coast of the country. The beast that thundered, opening his mouth, going head-to-head against everything and everyone, turning everything and everyone upside down, had made you feel small then, but it had come to your rescue.

#Job

Comments didn't affect him, he had heard too many boos during his career to be impressed, but he channeled disappointment into his training and it was when he gave everything. For Roman it wasn't about preparing, it was about trying, testing his endurance, pushing himself for when the moment came. His returns had always been epochal events, changing the direction of the entire industry. His impact was unique because regardless of whatever people's opinions were out there, Roman had always left his mark for better or worse and he did it knowing he could. You supported him, assisted him as you could, but there was a part of you always worried it could have been too much and things could fall apart.

He had never really fallen though and if it had happened, his mindset had put Roman back on his feet immediately, proving to you over the years that nothing could really bring your man down even fighting the worst challenges. When the goal became clear in his mind, when he focused, there was nothing and no one that could push him down another path or make him change his mind. He was ready to crush any obstacle, overcome limits that he himself had previously drawn, see what others could not. Roman tenacity went beyond physical strength, it was mental, psychological, a terrifying confidence that brought out the part of him that made him so special. He didn't believe he could do anything, he knew he was capable of it and in one way or another Roman always found a way to do it, shaping himself and everything around him to realize his vision. Another species of man on another level of greatness.

- "Is perfect, take a break" – you tried to convince him and he nodded, but you saw it in his eyes even before you heard it.

- "One more time."

#Love

Sweaty body, heavy breathing, a man working hard to satisfy you.

You had your love adventures, but comparison with those who had been there before and Roman wasn't even a comparison. You had never felt so much love and lust in someone's arms, never had you felt so precious and fragile at the same time, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, while he crushed you between the sheets. Sloppy kisses on your lips and delicate ones on your forehead, hands moving a lock of hair from your face and then sinking into the flesh of your thighs, turning you upside down as he pleased.

- "I'mma fuck my name in your head sweetheart, don't run, you ain't going nowhere" – promises that sounded like threats and made you tremble, a wave of pleasure washing over as you felt him go deeper – "you're stuck with me, quit it."

You whimpered, clinging to him like your life depended on it, shaking your head, begging, but Roman knew you better than you knew yourself and his grin always came right on time. When you felt like you were at your limit, he would increase the pace, pounding until he took air out of your lungs to kiss you and fill them with himself. Your body melted in his big hands, tears and sweet moods, climaxes following one another to the rhythm of your heartbeats and his brown eyes adoring and consuming you. Moans then became silent, pleasure intense to the point you couldn't feel anything else, you curled up giving in, abandoning yourself to his imperative desire to claim you. Only then did Roman slow down, bending you over, going beyond that sweet spot that he had tortured for the whole night, chasing his own pleasure this time and the perversion in his mind that made him go feral to fill you with his seed. Then he buried his face in your neck, between your breasts or behind your shoulder blades, hips pressed against your skin, nutting right into your soul and everything around you both fell silent to let the beast finally rest.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais @bookuce

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l seven

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Yours and Joel’s romantic relationship progresses; Ellie confronts you about Joel in stables and encourages you to make a choice; when Joel gets injured while out on patrol, it leads to a confession.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SMUT. unprotected p in v sex (as always, wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation (if you squint), Joel and his big cock can go multiple rounds because i said so, creampie (these two really are just going at it without a care in the world), Joel gets injured (gunshot wound) mentions of blood, MEDICAL INACCURACIES (per my research, the way gunshots wound are treated depends on a number of different factors, but we are going full hollywood here). Luke and Joel have an interaction (that is a warning in itself).

word count: 8.4k

September, 2024

“Oh fuck Joel, please don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st—”

You stop short and bury your face into the blanket underneath you in an effort to muffle the loud moans and cries of pleasure spilling from your lips.

Although the chances of a single soul being out of bed and outside near the barn at this godforsaken hour in the middle of the night are slim, it’s better to be safe than sorry. But keeping the noise to a minimum is a challenging feat when Joel Miller is positioned behind you, fucking you into oblivion.

You can’t hold back, not when his long, thick, calloused fingers are gripping your hips like a vice, digging deeply into the soft flesh as he brings them back, slamming you against him with each thrust of his own. Not when every inch of his throbbing cock is stretching your cunt, filling you up and satiating your unbridled need for it. Your need for Joel.

Over the last few weeks, he’d shown you what real pleasure could—and should—be. Sex isn’t an obligation a wife has to her husband, and a woman deserves to enjoy it as much as a man does. Joel made making you feel good his goal, his priority, and there’s no coming back from it. He is the only man you want to touch you, to satisfy you, now, and for the rest of your life.

You lift yourself off the blanket, your teeth sinking hard into your quivering bottom lip as you desperately drive your hips backwards and meet his thrusts halfway out of your own burning desire to feel more and more of him. Arching your back, you squeeze your eyes shut and relish in the sweet, heavenly sound the backs of your sweat slicked thighs make as they slap roughly against the front of Joel’s over and over and over again.

Joel's grasp on your hips tightens. “Yeah, that’s it baby. Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he pants from behind you. He picks up his pace, delivering smooth strokes that gradually become harder, sloppier as that sweet release draws closer for both of you. But somehow, he’s still careful. Even when he’s lost in the heat of the moment and his mind is in a cloudy haze, he keeps himself grounded, at least enough to make sure he isn’t being too rough. He can’t bear the thought of crossing the line between pleasure and pain, not with the woman he’s grown to care about more than anything. But you make being careful difficult. Pleading and begging for him to fuck you harder, faster, you bring out the primal in him and he can’t say no to you, much less when he’s buried balls deep in your cunt. “What a good fuckin’ girl. Y’take my cock so fuckin’ well, sweetheart—s’good for me, baby. So, so fuckin’ good.”

“Joel,” you moan his name, forgetting all about staying quiet. You drag one of your hands down the length of your body and dip it between your thighs, rubbing quick, firm circles around your clit as your desperation to come mounts. Luke didn’t like it when you would touch yourself, he never allowed you to explore your sexuality or your own body, nor did he allow you to chase your high when you were together—but Joel?

He encourages it. Adores it.

He fucking adores you. And he always he makes sure to show you just how much he adores you.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby, fuckin’ touch yourself—touch yourself while I fuck you.”

You swirl your fingers around the sensitive bud harder, the tension building in your core.

“Fuckin’ Christ, peach,” Joel groans behind you. “S’like this sweet little pussy was made for me. She was made just for me, y’know that?”

It’s hard to decide what does you in more when it comes to intimacy with Joel—is it when he’s soft and gentle, whispering beautiful, sweet nothings into the hollow of your neck while you’re underneath him, hands locked together and fingers interwined as he slowly slides in and out of your heat?

Or is it when he puts you on your hands and knees, obscene filth rolling off his tongue as he takes what belongs to him from behind?

He knows how to make love, but god, he also knows how to fuck and you can’t decide which side of him you prefer because they’re both perfect.

Unbelievably, devastatingly perfect.

“So fuckin’ tight, you feel s’good—” Joel grunts, driving himself deeper and deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that drives him just as wild as it does you. One of his hands abandons your hips and he glides it down the softness of your lower belly. What has to be one of your least favorite parts of yourself is one of his favorites and every night, Joel makes it his mission to prove to you just how flawless he thinks every inch of your body is. Lovingly, he caresses your tummy with his palm, and then trails his hand further down, slipping it between your thighs where his fingers join yours. Together, they circle your swollen clit and you hear the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears. 

“Joel, fuck, I’m so close—I’m gonna—” Your own gasp cuts off the end of your sentence. You try to warn him again, but your words are washed away by the wave of pleasure that crashes over you as one final stroke tips you both over the edge you’ve been teetering and you both come in tandem. Fisting handfuls of his blanket, you mewl out his name as your orgasm tears through your body, making it shudder.

Behind you, Joel releases a low, guttural groan, his chest heaving as his balls tighten. He spills into you and his eyes pinch shut when he feels you convulse around his cock, your cunt milking him for all he’s worth. “Fuck,” he chokes as he leans forward and drapes his body over yours, his length twitching and filling you until it leaks out of you, dripping onto the blanket. His breaths are ragged and labored, but eventually steady. Instead of pulling out of you, he gingerly pushes his hips into you once more. Feeling your walls clench around him, Joel drops his head and snickers, his warm breath tickling the damp skin on your back. He opens his eyes. “Feels like you’re ready for more, sweetheart,” he mutters, planting a tender kiss between your shoulder blades. “Jesus. Didn’t know I had me such a greedy girl, peach. Guess that innocent little angel face of yours had me fooled.”

You’re about to retort but when he bucks, all you can do is exhale sharply. Your pussy involuntarily flutters around him and though you can’t see it, you can picture the smug little grin on his face—he knows he’ll have your body begging for more if he keeps it up and so do you. He’s been insatiable tonight, wanting more and more and more, and you’re not all too sure if you have it in you for another round.

“We’ve still got some time left for one more,” Joel says. He peels himself off of you and palms the curve of your ass, kneading at the perfect mound with his fingers.

“Joel, I’m not sure I can handle it,” you mumble tiredly, shaking your head. “I think I’m all fucked out.” 

He laughs softly and pulls out of you.

You breathe out an audible sigh of relief welcoming the emptiness for once. Just as you’re about to get off of your hands and knees, Joel slides his index finger up your puffy, swollen slit and the arousal pools itself in your lower belly all over again. “God, no, please don’t,” you whine. “I can’t take anymore, Joel. I really fucking can’t.”

“Y’sure ‘bout that, darlin’?”

“Yes, I’m sure—” 

The lustful moan that echoes throughout the barn as he pushes his finger inside you says otherwise and you silently curse your own body for its cruel betrayal.

Joel hums. “Hm, doesn’t sound like you’re sure,” he teases, slipping a second finger into your pussy. He leans down and trails a line of hot, open mouthed kisses down the curve of your spine. He stops at the small of your back and murmurs against your skin, “I just fuckin’ know my sweet girl has one more left in her. I can fuckin’ feel it.” He curls his digits, eliciting another gasp from you. “Tell me, peach. Y’think you can be a real good girl and give me just one more?”

It takes less than a minute before you’re whimpering in defeat.

Of course you can give Joel one more—you can give him as many as he wants you to give him, as many as he can possibly coax out of you.

“Yes,” you breathe out in reply. “I’ll give you one more. But I just hope you know that I’m probably going to need you to carry me back across town after this.”

“Hm, I reckon I can handle that,” Joel muses with a small chuckle. He withdraws his fingers from you, his hands spreading your ass and revealing your needy, dribbling cunt. Glancing over your shoulder, you see his lips part slightly as he stares at you in complete awe.

Your face floods with heat, and though he can’t see your insecurity, but he feels it.

“She’s too fuckin’ pretty,” he remarks, admiring the way your folds glisten with your own wetness and his come. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze. “You’re s’goddamn fuckin’ beautiful, baby. Promise I ain’t ever gonna let you forget it.”

Your heart flutters wildly.

Before you have the chance to respond, he shifts his position, moving off the large bale of hay you two have been using as a makeshift bed for the last several nights. He lowers himself down onto his knees behind you. Joel looks at you and smirks when he sees the expression that crosses your features—it’s one of utter disbelief. He’s devoured you plenty of times before, but not in this position, and certainly not when you’re dripping, leaking with his come. His smirk widens. “Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?”

“Joel, I—I’m a mess right now,” you stammer out, nervously. “Are you sure you want to—?”

Joel flashes you an amused grin. “That a serious question, peach?” He chuckles when you nod in reply. “Well then, here’s my answer.” He buries his face into your cunt and swipes his tongue over your seam, flattening it out as slowly begins to drag it up and then down again. Joel groans into you, savoring the taste of you and your sweet muskiness combined with him and his slight saltiness. His tongue slips between your folds, eager, hungry for more.

“Joel,” his name tears from the back of your throat in a strangled cry. “Oh, fuck.”

He’d left you so sensitive. Your body involuntary jerks forward, squirming to get away from him—but Joel is having none of it. You can feel him grinning into your pussy as he wraps his hands around your thighs, curling his fingers as far as they can go around them.

“C’mere,” he says, his voice muffled between your legs. He tugs you back towards him and tightens his grip on you, holding you firmly in place, right where he needs you. He wraps his lips around your clit and swirls his tongue around it before engulfing the bud.

He might have teased you about being greedy, but truth be told, he’s the greedy one. Knowing his time with you is so limited only makes him even greedier.

Joel feasts on you, his desire to have you fall apart on his tongue again driving him to ravage you as if his very fucking life depends on making you come. The sounds of your whimpers, which are on the verge of turning into full blown sobs of pleasure, only spur him on. It’s more than just sending you home satisfied—he wants to make certain that, even when you’re apart from one another, you’ll still feel him. His tongue on your cunt, his cock buried inside of you, his lips and hands all over your body.

He can’t leave his physical mark on you to remind you of him when you’re not together, but he can, at the very least, leave you with a yearning for more of him.

You raise a tightly curled fist to your mouth, biting into it to keep from screaming out.

It’s too much for you to handle.

But somehow, it’s still not enough.

You want him to stop.

And yet you need him to keep going.

“Fuckfuckfuck—Joel, please! Please!”  

You beg him out of desperation, although you’re not really sure what you’re begging him for at this point—for him to make you come or for him to stop before you dissolve into nothing but a pathetic, whimpering mess. One of his hands abandons your thigh and without warning, he pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you all the while his tongue laps at your clit. The muscles in your stomach contract and you explode, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as you come undone all over again. There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t shaking, trembling—it takes you a minute to even realize Joel’s on his feet, helping you turn around to lie on your back.

“S’alright. I got you. I’ve got you, sweet girl.” Joel climbs onto the bale of hay and nudges your thighs apart with his knee, settling himself between them. Planting his hands on either side of your shoulders, he dips his head and peppers gentle kisses all over your neck and chest, giving you the chance to ride out your last high before it’s time to get up and start getting dressed.

After a minute or two, you find your voice.

Or at least, a tiny, meek version of it.

“Joel?” 

He hums, his nose skimming along your jawline. “Yeah, baby?”

“I think you really are going to have to carry me across town.”

Joel chuckles, gingerly nipping at your chin with his teeth. “Best cut that out, peach. S’gonna start gettin’ to my head real fast.”

You giggle. “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t want you getting too cocky, Miller.”

You bring a hand up to his face, cupping it in your palm. Gazes meet in the moonlight and you give him a soft, contented smile. You sweep your thumb across his bottom lip.

Joel’s breath catches in his throat.

Those eyes. That smile. Oh, that fucking smile. He wonders if you've figured out by now just how effortlessly you do him in.

Joel’s throat bobs. “Peach?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitates, then admits, “There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you.”

Your body stiffens underneath him, your eyes widening slightly.

“What is it, Joel?” 

Again, he hesitates. 

Joel’s been trying for some time now to say it—to tell you that he loves you.

But whenever he thought he’d finally mustered up enough courage to spit it out, he loses it the second those three words are about to fall from his lips. He can’t figure out for the life of him what he’s so afraid of. It’s obvious, to both of you, that he loves you, and he has no doubt in his mind that you love him too. But neither of you seem to have the guts to say it.

“Joel?” you say his name quietly, interrupting his train of thought. “Are you okay?”

Letting out a small, frustrated sigh, Joel shakes his head. “M’sorry, darlin’. S’just that—”

He stops short and shakes his head again, cursing himself for being such a coward.

You understand him, though. “It’s okay, Joel. I know how hard it is to say it. It’s really not as simple as one would think.” You laugh in spite of yourself. Grazing his beard lightly with your fingertips, you manage to give him another small smile. “Please don’t worry about it. It doesn’t have to be right now. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or the day after that. I’m not going to pressure either of us into saying something if we aren’t quite ready to say it. It should wait until you are good and ready—until the both of us are good and ready.”

“You’ve gotta know how much you mean to me—”

“I already do, Joel.” You drop your hand away from his face and place it on his bare chest. His heart thrums steadily against your fingers. “And I feel the same way about you. You do know that, don’t you, honey?”

His heart skips a beat at the pet name. You feel it. 

Joel leans down, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. “‘Course I do,” he murmurs. He then pulls back slightly, assuring you, “Couldn’t be any fuckin’ clearer to me.”

You press a delicate kiss to the tip of his nose and the little token of affection prompts his dark eyes to flutter closed. “Good.” You start to drag your fingernails and scrape them lightly down the length of his chest. They move lower, gliding over his soft belly and the coarse hair below his navel. With a tiny, innocent smirk, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking it until he begins to harden in your palm. “Oh? What’s this?”

His eyes snap open and he groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Christ, baby,” he gruffs. “What happened to not havin’ it in you for more?”

“Mm, I lied.” You run the head of his cock between your folds, moaning as you tease your sopping entrance with it. “I’ve got one more in me. Do you think we have enough time?”

Joel bucks his hips into yours and slides into you in one swift, smooth motion. Moaning, your back arches off the blanket, your breasts pushing up against his chest when he bottoms out. “Oh, I reckon we can make it happen, my sweet girl.”

“If you smile any fucking harder, your face might actually fall off,” Ellie quips.

You look up from the clipboard you’re holding in your hands and glimpse over Duke’s back, only to see Ellie smirking to herself as she runs a brush across the brown and white spotted Appaloosa’s side, its stiff bristles clearing his stunning coat of dirt and debris.

Clearing your throat lightly, you try, but fail, to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. Not that it would make a difference, because it’s been plastered on your lips all morning long. You raise an eyebrow at her, questioning, “I’m sorry, is there something wrong with me being in a good mood today, missy?”

“Of course not.” Ellie briefly pauses and her gaze meets yours. She shrugs. “It’s actually really nice to see you so happy.” Her attention shifts back to the task at hand. As she continues to brush the horse, her smirk widens. “So I’m guessing last night with Joel went pretty well then, didn’t it?”

You don’t even flinch. Thanks to the warning Joel had given you a few weeks back, she hadn’t caught you too off guard. More than anything, what surprises you most was the fact that it’s taken the teenager this long to confront you about it.

“Ellie—”

She snorts. “Don’t bother trying to hide it. Look, I know you two have been meeting up in the middle of the fucking night for the last couple of months,” she states in a blunt, matter of fact tone. “And I also know that the two of you know that I know. So let’s not beat around the fucking bush here, sweet cheeks. Are you two like in a relationship or something? Or are you just—what do the kids call it these days? Hooking up? What exactly is the deal with you and Joel?”

Gasping, you’re quick to shush her. “Ellie!”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, relax princess. It’s close to lunchtime, there’s no one in here but the two of us. So fucking spill it. What’s up with you and my old man?”

You sigh. Setting your clipboard down on top of the mounting block beside you, you step around Duke and approach Ellie. Even though you know everyone else in the stables had taken off to the mess hall for lunch hour, you keep your voice low and hushed. “Yes, okay. We’ve been meeting up at night and seeing each other.” You’d tried your best to prepare yourself for this, made a list of things you could say to her to make the fact that you were having a full blown secret affair with the man who’s essentially her father seem a bit less shameful. But it was useless. No matter which way you could try to spin it for her, the bottom line was that you are a married woman who is cheating on her husband.

And you’re cheating with Joel.

“Listen, what we’re doing, it’s not right—”

Ellie lifts her hand and interrupts you. 

“You guys make each other happy, don’t you?”

“I can’t speak for Joel,” you reply tentatively, shifting your weight from one muck caked boot to the other. “But he definitely makes me happy. He makes me the happiest I have been in a long, long time.”

She chortles. “Oh, come the fuck on, you know you make his crabby ass happy too,” she tells you. She grins and continues to say, “Seriously dude, if only you could see him in the mornings after he’s been with you. Picture it, he’s getting ready to head out for patrol and he’s going about the kitchen smiling like a fucking idiot as he makes his coffee.”'

“Really?”

“Really,” Ellie confirms. “It’s fucking sickening.”

You can't help but chuckle at her remark.

There’s a brief bout of silence, but Ellie’s quick to cut through it. “Can I ask you something?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Figured,” you sigh. “Alright kid, go ahead. Ask away.”

“Do you love Joel?”

Anxiously, you nibble on your bottom lip. “Yes,” you admit softly after a minute. “I do.”

Ellie glances down at the brush in her hands. She fiddles with it, running her fingers over the coarse, stiff bristles. “Wow,” she murmurs, quietly. Any trace of humor had completely vanished. “It must really fucking suck having to hide being with the person that you love, huh?”

“Yeah, it does. It really, really fucking does.”

Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but then hesitates.

Frowning, you take a step closer to her. “What is it, Ellie?”

“You could leave him, you know. Luke.”

“What?” Your mouth dries. “What are you talking about?”

“You could leave him,” Ellie repeats. Pausing, she chews the inside of her cheek. She seems nervous as she shuffles from foot to foot, something you find strange considering how brazen the girl can be. “You could move in with us into our house, you know?” For as tough as she could be, it tugs at your heart strings whenever her innocence peeks through, much like it is now. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

You smile wistfully at the thought.

A life where you can openly be in a relationship with Joel—take your place by his side and live a life of peace with him and Ellie?

Of course you do. 

But it’s a dream that’s too far out of reach.  

“I would love that,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a loose lock of her hair behind her ear. You let your finger graze the softness of her cheek before dropping your hand back down to your side. “You honestly have no idea how happy that would make me, Ellie. But it’s not all that simple—it’s much too complicated for me to leave Luke.”

“How the fuck is it complicated? You aren’t happy with a man you aren’t even really married to. The world fucking ended, it’s not a real marriage. Just take off the ring, pack up your shit, and it’s done. I don’t see what’s so fucking complicated about it.”

You sigh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because you’re not even giving me the chance to fucking understand,” Ellie shoots back at you, anger and frustration glazing over her brown eyes as she tries to make sense of it all. “You could actually be happy with Joel—and with me. We could be a family, a real fucking family.”

Caught off guard, you stare at her in complete shock. It’s not like you aren’t aware of how close she’s grown to you since you’d met, but you never expected her to see you as family. 

“Ellie, please. You have to believe me. Nothing would make me happier,” you choke out in reply. You furiously blink back the hot, stubborn tears that threaten to fall and hold it together for her sake rather than for yours. “Being together with Joel—being with the two of you and living life together as a family would be incredible.”

“Then why won’t you just fucking leave him?” she demands, growing more irate. “Why miss out on the chance to be fucking happy for once?”

Her questions are met with silence. 

How do you even begin to explain it to her?

How do you tell a teenager that you’re trapped with no way out? How afraid you were of your husband?

You don’t. You can’t.

“Well?” Ellie impatiently prompts you after a minute. “Come on man, just tell me the fucking truth already. Why can’t you leave Luke?” Her gaze finds yours and her eyes widen when the realization suddenly starts to sink in for her. “Oh shit.”

You quickly shake your head. “Ellie, wait—”

“It’s because he won’t let you leave, isn’t it?”

Fuck.

For a second, you feel like you’re going to be sick all over her sneakers. 

Before you can even think of how to respond to the accusation, the sound of Tommy Miller’s voice echoes through the stables. “Ellie!” he shouts. “Ellie! You in here?”

Relieved, you call out to him. “Hey, Tommy! Yeah, she’s here—she’s with me in Duke’s stall!”

Scowling, Ellie points a menacing finger at you. “This conversation isn’t over,” she mutters. “Far fucking from it, princess.”

Tommy rushes into the stall, his chest heaving. He’s out of breath and sweating profusely, his curls plastered to his forehead. His light blue denim shirt is stained with crimson and so are his hands—he’s covered in blood.

“Tommy!” you gasp out his name and run up to him, grabbing onto his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m alright! Blood ain’t mine,” he says, giving you a reassuring nod as he wraps his hands around your forearms, smearing your skin red. He then looks over your shoulder at Ellie. “It’s Joel. He’s been shot.”

Your nails dig into his arms, a chill running down your spinal cord.

“What?” Ellie cries, running up to the two of you in a panic. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck happened? How did he—is he okay? Is he alive?”

“He’s alive,” Tommy tells her, eliciting a breath of relief from her, as well as from you. “He got hit in the shoulder. I had to come find you and tell you right away,” he explains to her. “Needed you to hear it from me and not from anybody else.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s down at the clinic. I can take you there now—”

Ellie drops the brush in her hand. “What are we waiting for? Let’s fucking go!”

Tommy nods and lets go of you. He whirls around on the heel of his boot and leads her out of Duke’s stall.

You start to follow behind them, but freeze.

What business do you have seeing Joel?

As far as Tommy’s concerned, you’re nothing to his brother. Just a neighbor, maybe an acquaintance. The veterinarian his kid works for, if anything, but certainly nothing more.

“Wait.” Ellie halts in her tracks and turns back to you, beckoning with her hand. When you don’t move a muscle, she rolls her eyes and hurries over to you, taking your hand in hers. “Come on!”

Tommy shoots her a confused look.

“Ellie, what are you—?”

Ellie’s head whips around and she glares at you, as if telling you to be quiet. “I need you to come with me,” she says. “I’m going to need you for uh—you know, for emotional support and shit.”

It suddenly clicks. You know what she’s doing.

She’s giving you the excuse to see Joel. 

Squeezing Ellie’s hand in a silent thank you, both of you follow Tommy out of the stables and across the commune towards the clinic.

“Tommy, what happened out there?” you ask him.

“Raiders,” Tommy answers over his shoulder. His long strides are difficult to keep up with, and you and Ellie are forced to break out into a jog just to keep up with him. “Motherfuckers came outta nowhere and ambushed us. They got Joel in the shoulder, hit Carl in the stomach. Peter got shot in the chest—he’s in real bad shape. We don’t think he’s gonna fuckin’ make it.”

Your stomach churns. Peter. Marther’s husband.

“Anyone else wounded?”

He shakes his head. “No, but we did lose two of our horses. Daisy and Cash.”

“How could this fucking happen?” Ellie demands furiously.

“We think it was that same group we were trackin’ back a few weeks ago.” Tommy’s voice is strained. He tightly shakes his head, his hands curled into angry fists at his sides. “They must have realized we stopped with double patrol. Those fuckers caught us with our guard down. I fuckin’ knew we shouldn’t have eased up with patrol duties, I should’ve had every able bodied patrolman man out there day and night—”

You frown at the back of his head. “Tommy, please. You can’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known they were still out there after all this time.”

“Tell that to Martha,” he replies bitterly. “Tell that to Carl’s wife and to his daughters.”

Knowing there isn’t anything you could say to console Tommy or ease the guilt he’s feeling, you clamp your mouth shut.

Now isn’t the time to even try.

The three of you arrive at Jackson’s clinic.

Before the outbreak, the building had served as an urgent care facility for the town.

Abandoned and picked clean over the years, it had taken a lot of time and effort for the community to restore what was left of it into a safe, reliable place that could be used for healthcare services. It still wasn’t much even after the fact, but the clinic boasted three examination rooms for patients, and its shelves, once bare, were now decently stocked with precious medical supplies such as bandages, vials of penicillin, and clean syringes.

Tommy leads you and Ellie inside and the first thing the both of you notice are the trails of splattered blood on the speckled linoleum floors. You pray none of it is Joel’s.

In the first exam room, you can hear Carl, a man who used to work in the stables with you before he’d be assigned to be a patrolman. He’s sobbing, screaming out in agony as he begs for someone to help him. In the second exam room that’s just across the hall from the first, you can hear Luke. He’s speaking to someone, presumably one of the nurses, instructing them to hand him more gauze, along with a scalpel.

“Joel’s in here.” Tommy walks to the last door at the end of the brightly lit hallway and opens it, stepping aside to allow you and Ellie into the room. “Hey, big brother. Got someone here who wants to see you.”

Your stomach churns, breath hitching in your throat when you see him perched on the examination table without his shirt on, firmly holding a bloodied cloth to his left shoulder to conceal his wound.

“Shit,” Ellie breathes out, dropping your hand. She hurries over to his side. “Joel, are you okay?”

Joel glares at his brother. “Thought I told you not to fuckin’ bring her here, Tommy.”

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause she’s your—” Tommy pauses, searching for the right word. “She’s your Ellie. She should be here with you, Joel.”

“She doesn’t need to fuckin’ see me like this—” He stops abruptly when he finally sees you standing there at the door looking like you’d just seen a ghost.

Noticing that he’s about to question what you’re doing there, Ellie cuts him off and pins him with a stern look as if to tell him to shut the fuck up. “I asked her to come down here with me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him and hoping he’ll get the hint. “Hope that’s okay?”

His eyes flit back over to you and he gives a single, subtle nod of approval. “You can come in,” he tells you. His gaze meets your own, but he’s careful not to let it linger for too long. “S’alright. Come on in.”

You stand there frozen. It’s not until Tommy puts his hand on the small of your back and nudges you forward that you you finally move. “Hey,” you say to Joel, your voice small and feeble. Cautiously, you approach him, your mouth and throat dry. Resisting the overwhelming urge to throw your arms around him, you fall into step beside Ellie. She reaches for your hand again, holding it in hers as she gives your fingers a comforting squeeze.

“M’okay.” Joel looks from you to Ellie, nodding his head in reassurance. “M’gonna be okay. Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me.”

“Anyone been in here to see you yet?” Tommy asks.

“It look like anyone’s been in to see me yet?” Joel deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “When is someone gonna take a look at him? He’s been fucking shot!”

“We’ve only got one doctor and two nurses,” Tommy reminds her gently, placing his hands on his hips. “They do what they can, kiddo.”

Letting go of Ellie’s hand, you stand in front of Joel and gesture to his shoulder. “Mind if I take a look at it?”

Reluctant, Joel’s lips purse together. “Y’sure you wanna do that?”

You nod. 

“Go ahead then,” he murmurs.

Carefully, you peel back the blood soaked cloth from his shoulder to inspect his wound.

“It’s right there—the bullet. I can see it. It looks like it’s still intact as well. The good news about that is that it’s going to make extraction a lot easier since the bullet didn’t break off into fragments.” You manage to keep a calm, cool and collected demeanor. On the inside, you’re anything but. Words could not even begin to explain how fucking terrifying it is to see Joel injured, covered in his own blood. Still, with Tommy in the room standing just feet behind you, there’s no choice but to stay composed to avoid raising any kind of suspicion.

“And the bad news?” Ellie prompts worriedly.

“Well, he could get a serious infection if that bullet doesn’t come out of his shoulder. It needs to be removed and his wound needs to be flushed out and cleaned. It also looks like something we can stitch up. He will be fine but he needs to be tended to sooner rather than later.” You glance back at Tommy. “He can’t just sit here like this for much longer.”

“Luke’s still workin’ on Peter. Carl’s next in line since he got hit in the stomach. Luke said he needed to tend to the injuries in order based on how bad the injury is. Said it was called triage or somethin’ like that—”

“Well, what about Donna? Or Rose?” You refer to the two nurses who work in the clinic alongside your husband. Every nerve in your entire body is on edge. All you want is someone, anyone—even if that fucking means Luke—to tend to Joel. It’s quite selfish on your part considering the severe nature of the other two men’s injuries, but you can’t help yourself. You need Joel to be okay or you won’t be okay. “We can have one of them do it. I’m sure they’re capable of an extraction.”

Tommy runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I know Donna is helpin’ Luke with Peter. Rose is in the room next door tryin’ to stop Carl’s bleedin’—”

Your emotions boil over and finally, you snap. Turning to the younger man, you nearly shout at him in frustration. “He can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet lodged in his shoulder, Tommy!”

Taken aback by the outburst, Tommy raises his eyebrows but he says nothing.

“Wait a minute.” Ellie grabs your arm, garnering your attention. “Didn’t you take a bullet out of one of the horses once?”

“Yeah. She did,” Tommy realizes. “My horse, Ranger. He got in the shoulder durin’ an attack a couple years ago. She took the bullet right out and had him all patched up within an hour.”

Your eyes bounce between them in absolute disbelief. “Ranger’s a horse.”

“How different could it be?” Tommy wonders out loud, raking his hand through his black curls once more.

Furiously, you shake your head. “I’ve never treated a human wound before, at least not one like this. Cuts and scrapes, sure. But this is a gunshot wound, guys. I can’t—”

Ellie’s fingers dig anxiously into your arm. “Please do it,” she whispers, her eyes looking up into yours pleadingly. “You’ve got to help him. Please.”

Slowly, you turn to Joel, who hasn’t uttered a single word. “Would be kinda nice to get this fuckin’ thing outta my shoulder,” he remarks after a minute. He brings his gaze to meet yours and holds, forgetting all about subtlety. “I trust you.”

“Joel, I can’t. I’m not capable—”

“Oh fuck that, you are capable,” Ellie insists, shaking her head at you.

Helplessly, you turn to Tommy for backup.

“I’m gonna have to agree with with the kid, little lady. You’re capable. I just know it.”

“Please,” Ellie begs you. “It could be fucking hours before Luke gets to him. You said it yourself just a minute ago, Joel can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet in his shoulder. He could get an infection. Please, you have to do it. Do it for me.” Do it for him, she wants to say. But she knows she can’t.

Hearing the desperation in her voice, you don’t have much choice but to reluctantly agree to it. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it,” you relent, exhaling a sigh of defeat. “But if I’m going to do this, I would rather do it without an audience watching me.”

“Say no more.” Tommy gently takes Ellie’s arm and starts tugging her towards the door. “C’mon. Let’s wait out in the hallway, kiddo.”

“But—” She begins to protest. 

“Ellie.” Joel grits out her name. “Listen to Tommy.”

Annoyed, she huffs, “Jesus, okay. Fine.”

As soon as they disappear and close the door behind them, you turn back to Joel, your heart slamming against your ribcage.  

“I trust you,” he repeats, firmly. “Alright?”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Alright.”

Walking over to the opposite side of the room, you begin digging around through various cabinets and in drawers, searching for the supplies that you would need—a bottle of saline solution, a pair of surgical forceps, and a clean needle for the stitches. You toss them onto a small silver tray along with plenty of gauze and a packet of nylon sutures that had expired well over fifteen years ago. The only thing you can’t find are gloves, and while you were sure there had to be a box somewhere in the clinic, you don’t have the spare time to search for them. You wash your hands as thoroughly as possible with warm water and a bit of natural, handmade antibacterial soap one of the women in the commune makes and sells in her apothecary shop on Main Street along with her healing ointments and salves.

Your mind spins as you dry off your hands and pick up the tray, slowly making your way over to Joel. You set it down on the exam table and stand in front of him, inhaling a long, deep breath through your nose. Exhaling it slowly and steadily through your mouth, you ask, “Are you ready?”

Joel places his hand on your hip, his fingers brushing the skin that peeks between the waistband of your jeans and the lace hem of your yellow camisole. “Think I should be the one askin’ you that question, darlin’.”

You could have laughed. “Of course I’m not.”

“You can do this, baby. I know you can.”

“How can you be so sure about that, Joel?”

“‘Cause. I know my girl,” Joel murmurs, softly. He makes certain to keep his voice low, just in case Tommy and Ellie happen to be standing too close to the door. “And I know she’s capable of a hell of a lot more than she thinks she is. I believe in you, peach,” he asserts, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. “I trust you with my fuckin’ life.”

Your eyes glaze over with tears and you exhale a shaky breath. It’s not just his words, it’s the sincerity behind them—he means it when he says he trusts you with his life. If it ever came down to it, he would put it right in your hands.

“It’s going to hurt like hell,” you warn him. “I don’t have any anesthetic to numb the area.”

His hand falls away from you and he curls it into a loose fist on his thigh. “Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse, sweetheart.”

Reaching for the cloth on his shoulder, your hands threaten to tremble but you will them to stay as steady as possible as you remove it, setting side before picking up the bottle of saline and a piece of gauze. The bleeding had ceased. You clean the area well and give yourself a clear view of the thumb sized projectile. “It’s pretty superficial,” you observe, wiping at the wound and causing him to wince. “It doesn’t look like it caused any kind of severe damage, either.” Throwing the used gauze aside, you take the pair of forceps and show them to him. “Ready?”

“Ain’t got much of a choice, do I now?”

“Nope.” You flash him a tiny, wry smile. “Okay, I’m going to count to three and begin the extraction. I need you to stay as still as possible, alright?”

Joel nods grimly, his jaw clenched and lips pressed in a tight line.

“One, two, three—take a big, deep breath in and let it out slowly through your nose.”

He does as you instruct him, his fist tightening on his leg as he braces himself.

Firmly holding the forceps, you carefully insert the jaws of the instrument into his wound. Although you want to get the painful procedure over with as quickly as possible, you have to be careful not to cause any kind of further damage to his shoulder. “Fuck,” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, his eyes pinching closed. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Didn’t think it’d hurt this fuckin’ bad.”

You manage to get a good grip on the bullet with the forceps. “Almost done,” you assure him. “I’m going to pull it out now. Take another deep breath in for me and hold it.”

He nods and inhales, his chest expanding.

“On three, let it out—one, two, three.”

Joel exhales sharply as you swiftly pull the bullet from his shoulder. “Fuck!” he curses again, shaking his head. Even though his shoulder feels like it’s on fire, he does feel a huge sense of relief as soon as the round comes out.

“Got it,” you say, lifting the forceps. You show Joel the projectile clamped in the instrument’s jaws. It makes you sick to your stomach to think that there was even a slight possibility that the bullet you’re holding in your hand could have hit him somewhere else—it could have been a fatal shot. Shoving the nauseating thought out of your mind, you set it down on the tray and pick up the bottle of saline and a couple pieces of clean gauze. After flushing the wound and cleaning it a second time, you take a closer look at it just to be sure there’s no serious damage to the tissues in his shoulder. “Everything looks alright from what I can see. I cleaned it as best I could, but there’s always a risk for infection so you’ll have to take a round of antibiotics. You’ll also have to wear a sling for about four to six weeks. Doctor’s orders,” you add with a tiny, jeering smile when you clock the disdain on his face.

“Shit. That mean’s Tommy’s gonna pull me off of patrol,” he realizes, miserably. “What the hell am I gonna do for four to six weeks?”

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Recover from being shot?”

“Yeah I s’ppose I am,” he mutters with an eye roll.

Calm, tranquil silence falls over you as you prepare the suture, looping it through the needle. The moment you start stitching him up, an emotional lump rises in the back of your throat and you’re not sure why. Joel is fine. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay, and yet, all you can do is think about how frightened you’d been when Tommy ran into the stables covered in blood and said that Joel had been shot. How terrifying it was to think he was dead. 

He says your name softly.

When you don’t acknowledge him, he reverts to his nickname for you. “Peach.”

You hum, trying to stay focused on finishing the task of closing up his wound. “Hm?”

“Look at me, baby.”

“Joel, I’m kind of in the middle of someth—”

“I love you.”

Stopping mid stitch, you look at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Darlin’, I can’t count the number of times I almost fuckin’ said, but couldn’t. How many times those words have been right there on the tip of my tongue and just when I’m ‘bout to say them, I lose the nerve. After what happened today, m’gonna stop bein’ such a fuckin’ fool. M’gonna tell you every chance I get,” Joel vows, his gaze piercing into yours. “You had my heart from day fuckin’ one and you’re gonna have it for the rest of my life, sweet girl. I love you.”

His declaration knocks all of the wind out of your lungs and leaves you breathless. Speechless.

“AIn’t gotta say it back to me until you’re ready,” Joel reassures you. “Y’know how I feel ‘bout you—but I think it was time you finally heard it.”

You choke down your emotions—now isn’t the time to break down, not when you have a needling poking through his flesh. It’s not exactly how you pictured you professing your love for each other, but it feels right. “I love you too, Joel,” you whisper back to him. “I’ve been wanting to say it to you too, but I’ve just been afraid.” You pause and realize, “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Joel tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Do me a real big favor darlin’ and finish stitchin’ me up quick ‘cause I’m fuckin’ dyin’ for a kiss.”

Letting out a tearful little laugh, you carefully finish pitching him up. As soon as you finish with the last stitch, Joel wraps his uninjured arm around your waist. “C’mere baby,” he murmurs. He tugs you forward so you’re standing between his legs and tilts his head up towards yours. 

You smile at him before leaning in, molding your mouth to his in a sweet kiss. 

As you do, Luke’s voice echoes loudly out in the hallway. “What the hell do you mean she’s—”

Jerking away from Joel, you jump back just as the door swings open.

Luke bursts into the examination room with Tommy and Ellie behind him. His dark green eyes flit from you to Joel and then back to you again.

“Joel!” Ellie shoves past him. “You okay?”

“M’alright,” he replies stiffly, his eyes carefully trained on your husband.

“Tommy told me you were treating Joel’s wound.” Luke approaches you, and while he is keeping a collected composure for the sake of not causing a scene in front of the other people in the room, you know him better than that. He’s furious, but he’s masking it well.

Nervously, you nod. “Yes. I extracted the bullet from his shoulder, flushed and cleaned the wound, and stitched him up.” You notice the blood on his light blue medical scrubs and glance around him at Tommy. “How is Peter?”

His expression is grim. “Didn’t make it.”

“God,” you mutter, your heart clenching in your chest as you think of Martha. She’s just lost her husband.

Luke walks over to Joel, whose hands are curled into fists in his lap. He inspects his shoulder, observing the work you’d done. He then looks over his shoulder at you and frowns. “You shouldn’t have done this,” your husband chastises you, shaking his head tightly. “You aren’t a trained medical professional. Do you even realize—”

“Your wife did a good fuckin’ job,” Joel cuts him off. “She knew what she was doin’.”

Luke’s head whips back around and the two men’s eyes meet in a tense exchange.

“Give her some more fuckin’ credit than that. She’s amazin’,” the older man states, his nostrils flaring. 

“Yeah,” Ellie chimes in agreement, crossing her arms over her chest. She narrows her eyes at Luke. “She’s fucking amazing.”

Luke turns to her and arches an eyebrow. Before he can say anything, the sound of Donna’s voice comes from the room next door.

“Luke! I need a little help in here!”

Lips pursed together, Luke takes a step back from Joel and turns on his heel to leave. As he passes you, he stops briefly, long enough to whisper to you quietly, “We’ll talk about this at home.”

A chill runs down your spine.

You know exactly what he means by that. 

Luke tosses you a subtle glare and stalks out of the room.

“I should go and find Maria,” Tommy states with a sad sigh. “We’re gonna have to break the news to Martha about Peter.” He gives you a nod. “Thank you, little lady. For takin’ such good care of my big brother.” He disappears, closing the door behind him and leaving the three of you alone.

Ellie comes up to you, curling her arms around your waist. “Thank you. We fucking owe you one.”

You say nothing as you hug her back, holding onto her tightly.

You try not to think about what’s in store for you later that evening at home.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

May 13th

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1. I really need help finding a fic! It's either ABO or the Chinese equivalent kunze/qianyuan. It's got some sort of arranged marriage, as Madam Yu(?) marries WWX off to LWJ. In this universe Alphas often do not allow their Omegas to bite them back and create a reciprocated bond, as it gives them power and status in society. LWJ lets WWX bite him back (because he's a romantic and a sap), and the Jiang's are salty because JYL wasn't given a reciprocal bond when she married JZY, so WWX is technically of a higher status than she is now. @star-whatevers

FOUND!🔒Alliance AU by Ilona22 (E, 21k, WangXian, JYL/OC, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O Dynamics, PWP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Intersex Omegas, Not JC Friendly, Matchmaking, canon Jiang family dynamics, Family time, Night Hunts, Mention of male omega pregnancy, Intrigue at Jinlintai, Mentions of Prostitution, War, Conflict between characters)

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2. Hi! Fic finder plz. Looking for a fic where wwx is "sacrificed" by the other great sects to the gusu lan (in exchange for something? Don't remember). He is given to lwj and all the sects assume wwx is going to be a concubine (so much so that when they present wwx to lwj they dress him up like a concubine). Wwx also expects this and is very surprised when Iwj treats him nicely and everything. You can tell that lwj has fallen for wwx but is holding himself back. Wwx gradually falls for him too. I remember there was a part where the great sects came to visit and were surprised that wwx wasn't treated like a concubine. Tysm!!

FOUND? golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

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3. Hiii!!!

I'm looking for a fic where Lan Zhan is de-aged and the juniors take care of him while on a night hunt. Wei Ying is still away and has not returned and they have not confessed yet. Baby LZ just wants his WY so the junior quartet takes him to Qinghe to a discussion conference or smth. Wei Ying is also called there and LZ just goes and hugs him.

That's all I can remember. I think he was cursed to be more open and vulnerable so that he could confess.

Thanks! @ffaddictsrn

FOUND! Send Me Your Earnest Love by goneforthestars (T, 13k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Curses, Attempt at Humor, Light Angst, baby LWJ, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Post-Canon)

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4. I hope you can help, fingers crossed! I've tried everything on this one... Jin sibs murder JGS? sort of along the lines of Qin Su and the boys, but I can't even remember if it was a full fic on Ao3 or maybe even a ficlet/snippet on Tumblr? I think JZX was very shocked/normal reaction but siding with his siblings and JGY/MXY/QS were all stab-happy gremlins? I think JGY and QS might have found out much earlier that they were related and planned revenge together? Any help would be great, thank you! @katonahottinroof

I read #4 a few weeks ago😭 I believe lan zhan was a courtesan/prostitute who was supposed to assassinate wei ying, and lan zhan was beholden to meng yao for saving him. lab zhan ends up going to wei yings home in the burial mounds and gets poisoned I think ? does this sound familiar? the story may be tagged under courtesan lan zhan or prostitute lan zhan

NOT FOUND! out to get you (to get you) by iliacquer (E, 41k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, switching, top/bottom LWJ, top/bottom WWX, power play, courtesan LWJ, assassin LWJ, dark lord WWX, bondage, happy ending, past slavery)

FOUND! 🔒Something is Rotten in the State of Lanling by East_Of_Akkala (T, 42k, XuanLi, 3Zun, LQY/QS, Fix-It, Character Death, Angst, Family Feels, Black Comedy, Except for chapter 1, MDZS SPOILERS, Canon Divergence, Jin Siblings Dynamics, QS Deserves Better, Humor, Fluff, Background Relationships, Warning: JGS, POV Multiple, POV QS, POV MXY, POV JGY, Murder, Attempted Murder, Illustrated Fic)

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5. Good afternoon! I hope everyone has had a pleasant day.

Can’t say how many of my favorite stories have been found through you guys!

For the next fic finder.

I’m looking for a fic that has both a/b/o in it but also the lan clan were dragons and wwx was a fox, I think. Either one or both, I can’t quite recall.

Oh and it’s set in study arch.

Wwx and Lwj were already a couple or courting at the very least.

Anyway what I remember the clearest was a part where wwx was walking some stairs, might have been the stars to cloud recesses.

Anyway a spiritual dog suddenly appears and I think starts chasing or just barking at wwx.

Anyway twin jades to the save.

It is later revealed that the dog belonged to Jin Zixun which was confirmed by Zixuan who recognized the dog.

That’s all I remember.

Have a nice day and keep up the fantastic work! @ravenwithwings

FOUND! Jades' Lotus by keela_1221 (E, 125k, LXC/WWX/LWJ, Jadecest, Incest, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Fluff, Smut, True Mates, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Male Lactation, Marriage Contracts, Polyamory, Pining, thirst, Mpreg, They Experiment a Little, Cum Marking, switch everyone, Double Penetration, graphic description of childbirth, Sprinklings of angst for flavor)

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6. There's this wangxian fanfic I know I've read more than once, but I can't seem to find it anymore! Ok, so it's a modern world with cultivation fic, and in it the 5 Great Sects are like big crime syndicates or something similar. Wei Ying has his own territory in Yiling where he is known, of course, as the Yiling Laozu. The story uses specific terms to refer to some characters' status. Ex: Lan Wangji is the Red Pole of the Lan Sect, and Meng Yao is, I think, the Straw Sandal. Pls help me find it? @dreammaiden21

FOUND? 🔒 Words are Gonna Bleed from Me by GravityWinsAgain (E, 173k, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Triad AU, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, warnings in the notes, Modern with Magic, Dark Magic, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Murder Husbands, POV WWX, Organized Crime, lovers to enemies to estranged lovers and back to lovers, it gets weird when somebody dies but not really, Angst, Feels, BDSM Switch WangXian, Ghosts, Body Horror)

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7. Hi there! I hope you can help me figure out which fic I have just remembered. I think it might have been an ABO fic, but I'm not sure. All I remember is one scene. There was some kind of trial, and WWX was seated in some kind of special alcove where nobody could see or hear him, so that he could watch without encountering the Jiangs. I think he made some kind of comment about the type of court drama that would necessitate such a feature being built. Does anyone else remember this? Thank you!! @balleyboley

FOUND! 🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending)

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8. hi! potentially very long shot, but I'm looking for a fic with this quote "Besides, no one ‘was good,’ in some isolated way. Good was a relation between people. Good was a thing you did." I saved this quote then, and sadly can't remember any other details about this fic... I'd love find it to reread again, thank you! @potatokunst

FOUND? I Started From the Bottom/And Now I’m Rich by x_los (E, 57k, WWX/WRH, WWX/JGS, wangxian, JYL/JZX, time travel fix-it, Pining, Marriage of Convenience, Arranged Marriage, No Sunshot Campaign, WQ Lives, Transmigration, Weddings, Sugar Daddy au, Sugar Daddy, Black Widow, Protective Siblings, Family, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Sugar Baby, consort, Politics, Demonic Cultivation, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Canon-typical domestic dysfunction, Canon-Typical Gore, Ballad 39: Tam Lin, YLLZ, Crack Treated Seriously) did a search for the quote and it came up -- ch 3, specifically

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9. Fic finder request: there's a fic I only recall some details of. In this fic, dual cultivation in the Cold Pond Cave contributes to the security of the Cloud Recesses, but it has to be done by powerful cultivators with a member of the main family. MY and LXC are married in this fic, but they are unable to use this method of boosting security because MY's cultivation level is not high enough. Wangxian do it eventually, and when they leave the Cold Pond Cave, they are congratulated (?) by the Lans, who were waiting outside. WWX is also welcomed into the sect as one of their own. I think JC comments at some point that it's really weird for him to be safe in Cloud Recesses because of this reason. Please help me find this fic!

FOUND? The Ritual by nightwalker (E, 12k, WangXian, Sex Magic, Post-Canon, Fluff and Smut)

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10. Hello! I am looking for a fic that might have been canon-esque, but also could have been modern, where Mama Lan calls Lan Zhan her little bird. Only I think for a while the author gave us the Chinese word for it, which I don't recall what it was. It's translated later in the story. Thank you!

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11. Looking for a longfic I read a while back. The elements I remember are that the Lan figured out that WWX wasn't being properly compensated/treated as a head disciple of the Jiang and the deliberate stunting of his academic education was a violation of (handwavy) Jianghu high academia codes of conduct. As a result the Lan got WWX his backpay and the Jiang teachers got shunned by their academic peers. Had similar vibes to Stunted, Starving Juvenility, but I did a reread of that recently and I'm pretty sure it was a different fic. Thanks! @alychelms

Love this one and recently read it, but not it. The fic I'm looking for was definitely in canon-setting

NOT FOUND sounds like part of the story for 🧡🔒Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 178k, WangXian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

FOUND!🔒 the language of flowers and silent things series by Reverie (cl410) (M, 107k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, LWJ & Madam Lan, NHS & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, LWJ & NMJ, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the YZY warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric, Politics, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, Cultivation Sect Politics, Protective WWX) I don't recall if backpay was a part of it, but 11 reminds me of this

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12. Hi, I really need help finding a fic I read on ao3 some time ago. It was a modern day fic, I believe set in America, where wei ying and lan zhan meet again at jiang yanli’s wedding. They both act awkward around each other and don’t really interact until they are all in the hotel lobby and wei ying is trying to leave because LZ…but yanli tells lan zhan to give him a ride because it’s suppose to be a long ride home (to a different state I believe and lan zhan will be driving by it either way so it’s ideal) Wei ying tries to reject the idea but LXC gets involved too and he’s like it’s a good idea. It’s like a long drive/road trip fic where they are forced to interact and make up. Thank you for your time and effort.

Hi, I wrote to you asking for fic #12 on your may 13th post. I ended up finding it. It was a wlw fic 7:15 from Chicago by milesofheart. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but thank you for this platform, allowing me to ask in the first place.

FOUND! 7:15 from Chicago by milesofheart (T, 24k, WangXian, F/F, Modern, Rule 63, Road Trip, Getting Together, Female WangXian, matchmaking siblings, recovering from traumatic childhoods, spiritual trauma, Lan Disciplines as modern religious fundamentalism, LWJ's defiance of the Lan Disciplines, activist LWJ, the universal rage of women in a sexist world, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, brief references to sexual violence, references to past alcohol abuse, mention of spiking a drink as a bad practical joke but in a safe environment, mentions of real American political and social issues, brief mention of physical child abuse, past experiences of homophobia)

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13. I need help finding a fic. I've looked through my AO3 history and had no luck. Here's what I remember: Its a modern AU (I dont recall if its modern Cultivation or modern without magic) WWX is on the outs the Jiangs but is close to the Nies. There is a scene where NHS puts put Nie braids into WWX hair, and LWJ is jealous and takes them out. WWX developed a software that the Nies distribute and the Jiangs use. When WWX does online tech support for the Jiangs he uses the alias MXY.

FOUND! Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)

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14. Hello, how are you doing? 👋

I am looking for a fic which i found on this blog i think, i am not sure. It's where wwx breaks up with lwj as a dare but they're actually meeting for the first time. I thought i had it bookmarked but unfortunately i was wrong, please help me find it. 🫰

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15. Heya bros!! Got a request for the ficfinder? I read it a while back but accidentally closed the tab.

It was Wen Ning and Nis Huaisang centric. Chapter one was Wen Ning helping NHS escape qishan, chap 2 was NHS helping WN break outta the Jin dungeon and I think chap 3 was them talking about it??

I think Hua Cheng and Xie Lian made a very brief cameo in the third chapter?

FOUND? Jailbreaking by CullenBlue (T, 21k, WN & NHS, Canon Compliant, POV NHS, NHS Is A Little Shit, Cinnamon Roll WN, Fierce Corpse WN, Ghost General WN, References to Heavens Official’s Blessing, References to The Scum Villain’s Self Saving System, NHS insulting the Wen Clan’s taste in interior Decorating, Mentions of Murder, WN made a friend by talking about his childhood trauma, BAMF WN, Panic Attacks, mentions of gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence in the Name of Comedy, Trauma, Is NHS taking anything seriously? who knows, Bromance)

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16. Hi...

I am looking for this fic that I read a long time ago. It's a modern au and mpreg, where at the airport Wei ying went to the toilet and left a yuan with strangers (Mr & Madam Lan). Both of them thought twin jade especially lan zhan had a secret child as a yuan share similarities with the lan gene. If I'm not mistaken, Wei ying works together with lan zhan before leaving the country because of pregnancy and lan zhan doesn't even know about it. I don't remember why...🤔

Please help me find it. Thank you for your time 😊 @hazeylove89 //

Hi. I would hope to find this fic I read a long time ago. It's modern au where Wei ying leaving a yuan with stranger in airport for toilet break however the stranger is Mr &Mrs lan. Both of them thought a yuan is lan zhan child as a yuan share similarities with lan zhan. Btw this fic is mpreg n lan zhan don't know that Wei ying is pregnant.

Sorry if it's a difficult request. Thank you.

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17. hello! trying to find a specific tumblr post (not here but out in the wild) about yllz wwx actually being a fairly solid ghost who died in the burial mounds and knows he's dead but expects the ones he loves to also pick up on that and mourn him/give offerings? but none of them do; they see solid and assume alive, so he's feeling hurt about it. pretty sure it's here on tumblr somewhere but will accept fic recs

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18. this for fic finder <3 i remember reading a fic where WWX is a paperman and is spying on LWJ bathing. and then paperman wwx gets a cut and lwj gets angry or sulking at him for disregarding his safety @notdaniee

FOUND! I don't know about a fic but there's a comic by @moobiess like that

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19. hello, thank you for your help!

i was looking for this fic where wwx and mianmian are dating (?) and wwx accidentally moans lwj's name while making out/intercourse. i am unable to find it anymore. could you please help?

thank you again.

hello! #19 from the latest fic finder (may 13th). yes! it does! wwx goes to lwj's and they 'talk' about whatever happened and then they end up having sex.

bummer that they made it private, thank you for the help though!

sounds like a fic that has been privated/hidden by Pancho I believe , in the story does wei ying end up going over to Lan zhan and they have sex?

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20. hiii, i need help finding a fic on ao3 where lan wangji and wei wuxian time travel to the past and tell the sect leaders some form of info. the sect leaders are then nosy and weird about it so they end up using something to spy on them? lan xichen feels guilty but joins in anyway. in the scene that the sects see wwx and lwj are sitting and wwx is combing lwj's hair i think ? the two are aware that they're being watched as well. i don't remember much else, but i hope that's accurate enough. thank you so much.

FOUND? lan xichen is very concerned (and confused) by theninjacat (T, 3k, WangXian, POV Outsider, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Sunshot Campaign)

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[georgiapeach30513]

Much Too Fast, Part 5

Summary: it's time for everyone to talk

Pairings: Curtis X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, Curtis and Tati arguing, flashing, sexual tension/frustration, skinny dipping, wet/dry humping, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“And say please,” Poet slams her hands on the high chair, screeching, and you shake your head no. “Poe, you have got to say please,” your voice is still so soft, but the sweet baby slams her hands on the high chair, screaming out no.

“Poet!” Poet looks at Tati, puckering out her bottom lip, looking up at you sympathetically. Tati’s patience with Poet was virtually nonexistent, “I am tired, and I don’t want to listen to this screaming!” Poet lifts her hands up, making grabby hands up at you. Big drops of tears hug her lash line, and she softly whispers please. You didn’t want her to say please because of screaming. But you will hold her when she needs comforting.

Tati massages her temples. Circling her fingers over and over the area, paying you no mind, so you pull Poet out of her high chair. Shushing her as you bounce her around. The rules never seem to make sense when Tati is here. She wants Poet to learn to be independent, but when she’s here she just wants her daughter to be appeased as long as she’s quiet. Whatever it takes to keep her from making noise.

“Tati?”

“What?” You hold Poet even tighter at her mom’s harsh word. She never looks at you; just stays preoccupied with nursing her tender head.

“Can I ask you a question?” A question made things seem mild. You had so many questions to ask her, and none of which involved her daughter. You second guess this conversation because it truly wasn’t any of your business, but Curtis had made it your business. Over and over again he has made it your business because he is too persistent and needy, and dammit, you’re cracking.

Her arms slam on the table, and she glares at you. Her beady perfectly lines eyes bore holes into yours for daring to try and talk to her. For someone who’s head hurts, she’s being painfully noisy with that slap on the wood. She looks so irritated that you’re talking to her that you nearly change your mind. “Are you wanting a raise or something?”

“No.”

“No? Hmm, well, fine, I’ll give you a raise,” now she massages the bridge of her nose, ignoring you yet again. So you clear your throat, “What is it now?”

“My questions,” she moves her hand from her nose, glaring at you again. Clearly multiple questions isn’t something she wants to entertain. “I’m sorry, it’s just one question,” why did you fear her? Was it because she held a lot in her hands? “Umm, it’s probably none of my business.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t ask it. Grace, can you just spit it out. I really don’t have time for this. I have a headache, and I’m tired, and ready to take a nap,” that’s what she’s always doing here. You’re aware that you’re the nanny, but who was the mother?

“I’m very confused with yours and Curtis’ dynamics and relationship.”

Tati snorts, shaking her head. Her manicured fingers roll over the table before she looks at them like she’s bored. “That isn’t a question. But I should have figured. My husband is a very traditionally attractive man. But he’s stunted,” what a weird fucking thing to say about that man that spends more time with her daughter than she does. “I know there’s a lot of things about him that you may find attractive, but you deserve better.”

That took a turn. She didn’t know that you knew about her not even finding Curtis attractive sexually. She didn’t know that you knew that she had another life with a woman. You almost have a feeling she’s in love with that woman, and you’re falling for Curtis, but didn’t feel comfortable with this predicament. You didn’t want to share, you wanted him all to yourself. And Poet.

“No, I don’t love that man,” rude. There’s something that sits so grossly in your stomach about ‘that man’. That is the father of her beautiful daughter. And one she didn’t spend much time with. One that was tapping on your arm, and smiling up at you. “Curtis and I have never even been in love. This was a mistake. I got to go,” she pushes her chair back, standing abruptly before those stilettos click out of the kitchen.

There had to be some form of warmth that she possessed at some point for Curtis to have been friends with her. But now all you see is stress, and disdain for her life here at this house. Bitterness always coats her face and actions. She slams the door behind her, and Poet looks up at you gasping with a smile before she throws both hands up, “Yay!”

“You’re rotten, you know that?”

“Yep. Uh!” She looks out the back door, and to the pool. She loves swimming and spending the days outside. She’d swim in her float or your arms all day. Tati didn’t give you any clear indications on where you were with things. She didn’t give much at all other than she wasn’t in love, and Curtis wasn’t worth the time for you. And you didn’t believe that at all. You see how he loves his daughter, and know he has so much more love to give to a partner.

There is a part of you that wants to take Tati’s advice because this is a complete mess. It’s a disaster area. But you know what you feel when you’re with him. You know the way he looks at you, and smiles at you. And you love his daughter. This is all much too fast, and you didn’t know how to slam the breaks on it, but maybe you weren’t meant to.

Tati gave you absolutely no answers other than she didn’t love Curtis. She might not have told you that they didn’t have sex, but judging by her answers, you doubt she does anything with Curtis. But…dammit, you feel so conflicted. An ache sits in your stomach because you are too attached. You want him, and Poet, and want to go on a date, and not be hidden out here while she galivants around the world with her girlfriend. You want to be proud to be with Curtis.

“Poe Poe, if you eat your breakfast, we can go swimming, okay?”

“Tay,” she makes her sweet grabby hands for her plate, and you place her back in the high chair. “Pes!” she’s learning manners, and that’s more than you can say for her horny dad or hateful mother.

Tati’s car is in the garage. Your car is here. And there’s a very cute distinctive giggle coming from the pool. His kryptonite. And now you’ve brought his daughter into it. He sighs, walking out of the garage and to the back of the house. Stopping at the fence to stare at you slightly splashing Poet just to make her giggle.

Her chunky little legs kick about, causing her tube to spin around, and then you pick her up out of the tube. You lift her above your head, fully standing up out of water, and his mouth falls open. Poet giggles down at you, as streams of water flow down your curves. You’re too sexy to be holding his daughter.

And then you squat back down into the water, taking Poet with you, and she splashes around. Continuing to giggle, and smile up at you. She crashes her mouth into you kissing your jawline. Having a time of her life in the dreaded pool. The bane of his existence. This is bad. Great, and amazing. But bad. Too many feelings and emotions course through his bloodstream. Warmth and passionate heat.

He looks down at his pants, taking a deep breath, and telling himself that he would really like to join in the family swimming time, so he needs to calm down. Inhale and exhale. Relax, and get your fucking mind out of the gutter. Who knew he had a goddamn breeding kink because all he can think about is enjoying fucking a baby into you. Not accidentally, but pumping you full of him every night until it stuck. He’s a disgusting man.

Once he’s centered himself, he slings the gate open, and Poet screams at him, “Dada!”

“Hey, baby. Do you mind if I change and come swim with you and Grace?”

“Yay!”

“I was wondering when you were going to come inside the gate, instead of lingering out there watching us,” his tongue slowly exits his mouth, and he traces his luscious bottom lip with it. Pulling the lip back in his mouth where he bites on it. Smirking and shrugging while walking to his bedroom. “He’s a menace,” a fucking menace that makes you squeeze your thighs together, and regulate your breathing because you’re holding a baby, and can’t do anything about the need to touch and rub on him.

Poet giggles, blowing raspberries and points all over the pool. Telling you, in her way, where she wants to swim to. You ferry her around the pool, letting her splash along the way. The happiest baby you’ve ever met, and when she playfully gasps, and looks towards her dad’s room, that smile gets even bigger.

Curtis and his hairy tits jog to the diving board, and he dives it. Swimming under water towards you, and you back away, “Dada go?” Poet looks at the dark figure that travels in the water, until he pops up right in front of her face. He grabs onto your hips, keeping you in place, and she begs for him to hold her. “Dada!”

“Hey, baby girl. Come ‘ere,” reaching for her he makes sure to give your side more than too much of a touch. He skims his hands from your hips up your side, and you bite back a whimper. That devilish grin pops up as he stares so intently at you. “What have you and Grace been doing today? Just being water babies?” She smiles, laughing up at him.

“You got home early.”

“I liked what I was coming home to,” silence. You can’t respond to that without sounding like a twittering school girl, or a hateful bitch. He sure knows how to lay things on thick, and it just makes you weak. In an alternative life, you can imagine him coming home, and being all excited while you playfully flirt, and still have fun with the kids. You can see him smacking your ass playfully, while the kids are too busy to see their parents are setting up the long foreplay for the night.

Having hours of buildup, until each and every one of the kids are asleep, and Curtis and you lock the door, and have fun with each other’s bodies. It seems so easy, and yet this situation is a mess. Tati at least let you know that there aren't any lingering feelings with Curtis.

“I spoke with your wife today,” you begin. Curtis dips his mouth underwater, pretending to play with Poet, but he’s watching you. Too much. “She confirmed about not having any feelings. But she didn’t seem to think too highly of you, and that makes me confused.”

“Probably because I wasn’t enough to make her straight, because being attracted to women is who she is, and it’s easier to blame other people than accept that, and there’s no one at fault here. Tati being in love with a woman shouldn’t hurt anyone. The issue is that it has stalled me from moving on with you. It’s not fair to Monica either. It’s not fair to Poe because this baby knows that while her mom wouldn’t hurt her, she doesn’t want to be a full time part of her life. And I don’t think she enjoys her very much,” you can confirm that. But he already knows.

You wade the water. Making circles around his body, and he spins right along with you. Looking between you and Poet. “I’m crazy, but this feels right. Playing in the pool with my two favorite girls. Staring at your nipples poking through your bathing suit.”

“Curtis!” the bastard laughs as you circle your hands over your chest. “You are holding a baby.”

“She can’t really talk now.”

“Is all our conversations going to end up in the perverted realm of things?” Is there more than this burning desire to just fuck each other? Or is the need to have each other shadowing anything else?

“No,” you raise your eyebrows in a challenge. “No, but I think sex should be fun. I think that life is too serious, and why can’t I shamelessly flirt with a girl I find attractive?” That’s not flirting, and he knows it. That is being a horny devil.

“I don’t want that serious of a relationship with someone. I’ve done the five star restaurants, and the dinners with family and it’s this big ordeal. I don’t want that. I want to have fun. I want to be able to joke with you,” that boyish grin fades a moment. “This house is beautiful, and perfect in its way, but I don’t need this. I do like this pool.”

“Do you?” You couldn’t tell he liked it at all…

“Yeah,” his voice is menacingly low. And you feel it right to your core. You wade further away from him. Keeping your hands low in the water. It’s wrong, and you know it is. But sometimes a little teasing never hurt anyone. Poet is paying attention too much attention to her dad’s beard. That beautiful face of hair. A face that you would like to ride, and instead you’re going to rub one out alone. Again.

You grab a side of the gusset of your panties, moving it to the side. But you think twice about it, and pull it back to cover yourself. Had he not had that sweet baby in his arms, you would have asked him to look under the water. He makes you want to sin in too many ways.

“It’s hard to try and figure out what is acceptable when there’s a baby between us. But you can try that again tonight. When you meet me out here after Poet’s put to bed,” he stalks towards the shallow end of the pool. Backing you up. Up. And up, until you collapse on the stairs. “I’d really like to see what I’ve been missing. Without touching that is.”

“On one condition,” your voice is so hoarse, and you try to keep some decency. You’re too weak when it comes ot him.

“Anything.”

“You talk to Tati tonight. She can’t hold your feelings hostage forever. And I don’t want to wait on you forever. I’m greedy and I want you right now.”

Poet splashes and splashes, reaching towards you before Curtis relinquishes her into your arms. “What if…what if I talk to her, and she doesn’t like my ultimatum? Because I think she knows.”

“Knows what?” You know what time it is. If Tati is going to be here, she’s already here, and about to have her takeout delivered. She could already be walking to the door. Maybe she’s peeked outside the window, wondering what the noise was. Right now you didn’t care. You’re willing to break all the rules for just a kiss. Just a chance of normalcy for a moment.

You know exactly what he’s talking about as he gets closer. Looming over you with that giant stature, and ignoring Poet pulling down your top and exposing yourself. Curtis puts his nose right on yours, and you forget how to breathe. Have to focus on the rise and fall of his chest because you’re breathing is irregular.

“She knows I’m finally falling for someone. She knows that this has been a slow road, because she knows normally, I just fuck and move on. That’s why she chose me,” he pulls your top to cover your body again. “She thought I’d never ask for a divorce.”

You swallow deeply. Ignoring the door closing. He wanted to get caught, so he can have a discussion with her. “So are you asking for a divorce?”

“You said I have to if I want to be with you,” Curtis stands up, reaching for his daughter, and you hand her off. Letting him walk out of the pool. “And I want to actually try something real for once, so I want to be with you.”

You let out a long breath. Watching as he walks into his room with Poet. Surely going to dry both of them off, and dress so they can join Tati for dinner. Your chest heaves as you let the intensity of that moment wash over you. It leaves you in such a weird spot because Tati is your employer. And here you just were ready to flash her husband your cunt, while he held her daughter. You are losing all self control and self respect for yourself.

Curtis is making you crazy. Imagining that you and him were a normal couple that didn’t start off as a stranger fucking you within an inch of your life. What were you doing? You were risking everything. All of your morals. Ready to throw everything away for him. For this. To make this thing work. What the fuck? How was Tati even going to respond to that?

Whether you’re the one with Curtis or — you hate to think about it being someone else, but either way, it wasn’t fair. He deserves the chance at someone more than sex. And he’s somehow chosen you, and it makes you lightheaded. You’re horny and pent up as fuck. But you like him. Like his daughter, and in order for this to work, you do need to show some decorum and just wait.

Sighing, you get up out of the pool yourself. You need food. Probably alcohol. But definitely food. And to fuck yourself, so you’re not so fucking horny when you meet Curtis at the pool when the lights go outside. That pool is an aphrodisiac. You get in it and you need body parts touching. Ugh! Why is this so hard to not be such a slut with him? You’re horny. You’re just horny. It has nothing to do with actually having feelings for him.

Nope. Not you. Food. Come. Alcohol. Make yourself come again? How many times would it take so you’re not ready to jump on top of Curtis and ride him like your life depended on it? Alcohol. Just a little, not a lot. You can do this. You and Curtis were going to talk, and see where this goes. That’s all. That’s absolutely all you were going to do. Yep.

Curtis’ fingers roll on the table, and he looks at Poet. Then at the table. Then his Chinese takeout. Then his chopsticks. Then back to Poet. Everywhere but his ‘wife’. And Tati just glares at him. Chewing her food slowly, and being too aggressive with the chopsticks.

Watching the coward as he blatantly ignores her. After the conversation with you this morning, she could tell you wanted to fuck her husband. And judging by the two of you in the pool, he wanted to fuck you, too. Asshole. How dare he dishonor the marriage like that. He didn’t care about how it made her look. He just needs to get his dick wet.

She knows she’s being ridiculous, and Curtis knows about Monica. He’s met Monica. Actually likes her. But he is sneaking behind her back. He’s probably snuck right into that pool house, and fucked you already. Walking around, and pretending that he’s never touched you. Jerk. He’s such a pig headed man.

She lays her chopsticks on the side of her bowl, places her elbows on the table, and then rests her chin on her arms. That sickeningly sweet business smile spreads over her face, but lacks any warmth. “How long have you been fucking the nanny?”

Curtis doesn’t look away from Poet at first. He gives her another bite of food before his attention goes back to Tati, “Let’s not do this in front of our daughter.”

“Oh, I know she’s our daughter. I carried her for nine fucking months, because you couldn’t pull out properly.”

“And now you fuck Monica.”

“And you’re fucking that girl!” Tati’s voice is shrill as she losing control, but Curtis’ remains collected.

“Do not call her a girl! And, no. I’m not fucking her. I have fucked her,” Tati gasps, causing Curtis’ eyes to roll in the back of her head. “Yes, Tati, it was before I even knew her. It was supposed to be a one night stand with a girl that picked me up on the side of the road.”

“You’re lucky to be alive! Poet could have lost her father, and then…”

“You’d have to actually be a mother?” Her hand slams on the table, and Curtis stands up quickly when Poet’s lip puckers out, “We’re done with this conversation since you can’t be an adult.”

“You’re cheating on me!” He chuckles, pulling Poet out of her high chair, and he holds her close to him. Letting her lay her head against his chest.

“No, I’m not. We’re not together. Just legally, and I’m — I’m filing. I’ve been patient, Tat, but you’re living a life, and I’m not. I’ve met an amazing woman, and we can’t even move forward because of this shame of a marriage. We were always supposed to be friends. Things went way too far, and now we’ve even lost our friendship. We’re roommates that share a child.”

Tati worries her lip, something she only did during deep thought, so it gives Curtis enough reason to sit down. She’s at least considering his words. He waits on her to work through everything, as long as she wasn’t raising her voice and causing Poet distress, he could be here. He reaches over to his daughter’s plate, grabbing her something to nibble on. He smiles at her, as she gnaws on her dinner..

“Tater tot.”

“Don’t call me that,” her voice is short, but it doesn’t raise, and her eyes linger on the immaculate table. “I thought we had a deal?” Tati being an only child is used to having things her way. Everything always worked out for her.

“That I stay married to you forever, when a woman that I may be in love with can never be my wife? You thought I was forever going to be slut, so that’s why you thought this stupid agreement would work forever. How does Monica feel about being your dirty secret?”

“I love her,” the confidence Tati exudes disappears, and her shoulders slump. He sounds just like Monica.

“Not enough. You roam around the world on your little vacations, but she doesn’t go to family dinners. She doesn’t have a relationship with Poet, and I told her she should,” Tati’s nose scrunches up, shaking her head no. “Can you at least say it?” She shakes her head no faster. Covering her eyes with her hand. “Tati. Just tell me, and we can move forward. Your therapist said you have to admit it.”

“I sound like a terrible person,” no, right now she sounds like a terrible person. Curtis wouldn’t hold those words against her.

“It’s only terrible if we continue this dance. I can take care of her,” Tati whispers something, but Curtis doesn’t hear her. “Tati, say it. Step one.”

“I love her in my way.”

“I know you do.”

“I’d never hurt her.”

“I have never thought you would.”

“Does,” Tati sniffles, looking up at Curtis instead of the table. Glancing at her daughter with a smile, “Does she want kids?”

“I’ve never really asked. I think so,” he knows you do. You’re a perfect mom, and you deserve a child’s firsts.

“You know I can’t just tell my parents?” Curtis shrugs. He didn’t care what she told her parents, he wanted her to tell him. “You know, that your life will forever be altered?”

“It’s been that way since she was born,” Curtis made all the changes in having a child, while she didn’t make any.

“I don’t want to be a mom,” relief floods over her body, and tears break through her polished veneer. She’s been living a lie, and didn’t know how to stop it from spiraling. Gulping, she wipes at her eyes, and shimmies her shoulders. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. “I’ve got to go.”

“Tati?”

“Just…I don’t care, just don’t go flaunting her around town. And I won’t sign my rights over until you’re married to someone I approve of. You can have sole custody like we discussed. But…I don’t want anyone to know before I’m ready. I’m going over to Monica’s. Have the fucking house,” her heels start to click out the door, but Curtis clears his throat.

“I’ll give you two weeks,” Her mouth drops open. She isn’t usd to negotiations, especially with him. He always gave her what she wanted. “I’m done waiting, Tati. Poet will be one in three weeks. You’re not doing anyone any favors by avoiding talking to your parents. And if they have a problem with who you truly are in love with, that’s on them. You will always have me and Poet, and you can be aunt Tati.”

Curtis senses her frustration. Can tell that she is irritated, but she smiles. Her smile actually reaches her eyes, and the warmth he loved about her shines through. She really didn’t want to be a mom. “I don’t want Poet to know about you. I mean who you are to her.”

“That’s fine. I — I had my tubes tied anyways. I didn’t — she’s not a mistake, but I don’t want kids. I never wanted kids. It’s not in me. Do you hate me?” He shakes his head no, and Tati sighs. “Don’t make her hate me. Either of them. I was ugly this morning.”

“And then you ran away.”

“It’s what I do best with this situation. But I don’t run from Monica. I run to her,” Curtis silently thanks her. He knows it’s been a long time, and hard work with her therapist to say all of that. Everything she said, all that she admitted to.

“I’m proud of you, Tater Tot.”

“I said don’t call me that,” Tati smiles as she walks towards the front door. Leaving a house that was never her home. Leaving a marriage that she never wanted, a daughter she loved, but didn’t need. A daughter that she is okay to step back and not raise. Give up all that responsibility to Curtis and whatever woman he chose as Poet’s mom. And she’d sign everything away. Let his wife adopt her and Poet become hers.

And for once, she’s not running away. She’s finally going home.

The house is eerily quiet. Even in the pool house, the only thing you hear is your racing heart. Having to look into the mirror to see if you can see it beating out of your chest. Thankfully, it isn’t, but your chest heaves with bated anticipation. Wrapping a towel around your body, you sit and wait like a fool in love. With the blinds open, you stare at the lit up pool, waiting. You won’t be the first one out there, even if you’re staring into that water like it can answer your questions.

You have bared enough of yourself recently, and will soon physically do that, but you need Curtis to be the one to lose control this time. Need him to tell you what you deserve to hear. At nine o’clock on the dot Curtis emerges from his bedroom. He looks towards the pool house, before going to the diving board, and diving in.

He comes up on the other end of the pool, and sits at the table. Resting his elbows on the tile before holding his head in contemplation. Water drips down his face, and you want to lick him clean. No. No. One thing at a time. And with how you’re dressed, you’re already going to cause him to have a heart attack. Deep breaths.

You step out of the pool house, but his head remains in his palms. You walk right up to the steps, and drop your towel. Making your way into the pool too slowly. Your chest is fully submerged when Curtis lifts up. His mouth in that crooked cocky smirk when he wiggles two fingers to you. Beckoning you to come closer, and you shake your head no.

“Earlier today you were trying to show me your pussy, and now you won’t let me see your naked body?” His head tilts to the side. He’s always an observant one, especially when it comes to your body.

“It was inappropriate at the time,” he nods his head as he slides out of the chair, “You stay over there,” if he comes any closer, you’ll be begging him to lift you onto his cock.

“Why?”

“If you want me closer to you, tell me how the conversation with Tati went,” Curtis sighs. He settles back into the chair, and faces towards you. His hands slide up and down his thighs, and his legs spread ever so slightly. “That bad?”

“It wasn’t bad. She’s fighting a lot. But I told her essentially I didn’t care, and gave her a time frame of two weeks, and I’m filing for divorce,” you take a step closer, staying squatted in the pool. “Put your arms down,” you shake your head no again, and he playfully growls.

“She left,” another step forward. “She’s going to stay at Monica’s tonight. You know when we bought this house, she jokingly said that if we ever divorced, she knew I would keep Poet, so I could just have it. She’ll give me full custody. But I need to be honest with you, so if you please give me a little peek,” he’s cheeky. Like showing yourself is going to make this any better.

You drop both arms from around your chest, and Curtis gets even more comfortable. Leaning back in the chair. “Stand up,” you shake your head no again. He wanted a little peek. “You’re frustrating tonight.”

“And you’re admitting to needing to see my tits to tell me this?”

“Yes. It relaxes me,” at least he’s honest. You stand up out of the water. Streams of water fall over your breasts, dripping down your hardened nipples before you dip back into the water. “You are a tease. Go up the stairs, and spread your legs.”

“The only person that will be spreading my legs will be you,” he palms his crotch, groaning. “Curtis,” you warn. He could have it all. Well. Maybe. Maybe not tonight.

“Tati doesn’t want to be a mom, and I will gladly take that off her hands. But…I don’t date to have someone in my life. I date for someone to be in hers, too, and maybe eventually, no time soon, adoption. I usually don’t date. In fact, I told Tati that’s why she went along with whatever childish game this was. Because she never saw me settling down. She thought I was always going to be fucking women at their places.”

“Theirs?” You cock up an eyebrow. Of course Curtis would be into casual sex. He slept with you after knowing you for a couple of hours. But keeping things at their places, keeps them away from his home. His safe space.

“I never bring women into my life. And I’m just a dick in theirs. I didn’t care to be more than that. Because I don’t want to share my daughter with them. Stand up all the way,” you do without hesitation, but keep your arms around your chest, “Now walk closer to me, I need to see you better,” you do. It’s not a slow crawl, it’s a normal speed. But the time just drags on as his eyes roam over your drenched body.

He stands, meeting you halfway, and his hands grab onto your hips. Sliding back behind your back as he pulls you closer, and presses your body against his. Your skin lights on fire at the feeling of his body against yours. All hard lines, and even harder cock pressing against you, and wanting to be free, “And yet, I don’t mind sharing Poet with you.”

“This is too soon,” is it? Is it too soon? Or are you too scared?

“I know, and I still can’t stop it. I don’t know how. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be casual with you. I never saw Tati making this place her home, and she won’t be pretending to anymore. But I need to know if you see yourself becoming Poet’s mother in the future. Tati wants to be an aunt, so…” dizzy. There’s no other word than that. Whiplash maybe. But you don’t want it to be.

Yours and Curtis’ relationship has been teasing, and slightly sexual. Ultimatums about the future, but this is for real. This is the future for a little girl. “What if I don’t want that?”

“Then give me this one night, and I’ll back away. Poet needs a mother, and it’s not Tati. I’m not saying you need to adopt her tomorrow. I’m saying she doesn’t talk much, she knows you more than her mother. Her mother is nothing but an entity to her, but you are the woman that takes care of her. I already see her preferring you over her mom. And I want you, but I need you to eventually want her. Or at least see you wanting to be her mother.”

Wiggling your arms off your chest, you sink a hand low, and cup his bulge. “Do you always get horny thinking about a future with me?”

“Everything about you makes me horny. Thinking about you pregnant, seeing you make supper, watching you sneak to Poet’s room to kiss her goodnight, watching you watching me. Everything you do is sexual to me.”

You back his body up to the chair, pushing him down onto the seat before you climb in his lap. Straddling his body while you grind on him. His cock throbs on your core, and you’ve never wanted anything more than for him to sink into you. But if you’re to take things slow, you need to just get this pent up energy out, “We’re not teenagers.”

“And we’re taking this slow,” you mewl. Staring at Curtis through your lashes.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not about us anymore, is it?” He groans again. Letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he looks at the stars. Staring at you was like staring at a dream that he can’t make a reality, “Was it ever about just us?”

“That night in the hotel I was not thinking about my daughter as I was fucking you, no.”

“You never thought you’d see me again?” It’s something you’ve pondered many times. Because you never thought you’d see him again. Even if he left his card. He was to be a cock for pleasure that night. And now you see a relationship.

He sits up, shaking his head no. His eyes move over your body as you work his aching cock. This clearly isn’t enough for him, and sex right now seems rushing. But you need something. You’re dying inside. You need him, but your relationship thus far has been built on forbidden romance and sex.

“And now I can’t imagine not seeing you again,” you move faster, undulating your hips with so much enthusiasm. Writhing over him, and he’s mesmerized. It’s like a beautiful little dance that you do just for him. A private performance only for his eyes. A girl he knows has this filthy streak, but you are the perfect balance of lady and freak.

You are his perfect match. A friend, a lover, a fucking porn star with the way you’re moaning, the possible mom to his daughter, his best friend, his everything. A mate for him in all walks of life. Getting off on dry humping him in the pool and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Well…he has been inside you, but this sexiness is different.

You’re frustrated, so you use him. “The tension is clouding our judgment, we — we — we need this.”

“Aw, is my little saving Grace getting off on this?” You nod your head yes, moving fast. “There’s a good girl. Ride me like you own me,” you move hard and fast over him. Leaning forward to nip and kiss on his neck. Taking out your frustrations on his freckled sensitive skin. “Because you do.”

You bite on his neck delicately, and give him a hard suck, while he bucks up his hips, meeting you while he blows his load into the water. Your movements slow until you’re just panting on top of him. “You know you do. Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“So now what?”

“You can take me on a date on your bike. You’re the father, so you’re going to have to figure out a babysitter,” you move away from his neck, and smile at him. His eyes freely roam over your heaving chest. With a smirk, you lean back. Practically laying back on his legs so you spread your own, “You can look, but you can’t touch just yet.”

“But she’s swollen,” he says looking into the water. “And she’s blurry,” he starts to lift up your bottom half, but you sit up straight, shaking a finger in his face. “That’s not fair!”

“Proper date. And then we’ll see how I feel about something more serious with you.”

“You want it,” he teases as you saunter towards the stairs of the pool. You bend over to pick your towel up, but don’t wrap it around you before walking towards the pool house. “Can you sleep in the bed with me?”

“Find us a sitter first!” You scream over your shoulder. It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from him. Almost impossible to tell him no, while you’re dying to let him take you where he wants to go. You want him. You want everything that comes with him, but this is moving too fast.

Right?

You pace back and forth in your pool house, wrapping the towel around your body because you seem so cold. Your house feels miles away from him now. Any distance between you and Curtis feels too far away. He’s leaving her. He’s leaving his wife. You have spent months avoiding the thing and person you want, and it’s him. It’s a life with him and his daughter. It’s crazy. Absurd, and still you’re walking towards the door. Holding your hand over the handle, and then freezing.

Is it worth the risk now? Have you tortured yourself and waited long enough?

You have. Jerking the door open, you stand transfixed in the doorway, staring up at the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He couldn’t wait either. Meeting you at your door because he was needy for more. His azure eyes look more soft than predatory, “I don’t want to be too forward, but I don’t want you in the pool house. You seem so…”

”Far away?” He nods, holding his hand up for you to take. Glancing down, you grab the appendage, and pull him close to your chest.

“But I’m not fucking you. Poet will probably wake up in about twenty minutes. And I think you’re right, date first. But until the date, can you just sleep in the bed with me?”

He’s walking backwards, pulling you towards his own bedroom. “Can we do no sex?”

“Sweetheart, my cock has been aching to get back inside of you for months, what’s one more night? Or a few days? It’ll be what it’ll have to be, but I can’t have you away from me anymore. And we could get in a quickie, but the next time I’m inside of you, I’m going to take such sweet precious time. Because I know what it’s like to have to live without that sweet cunt, and now, I know what the woman is like.”

It’d have to wait. You’d have to wait. You’ve made it this far. He was worth it. A crazy night of picking up a man on the side of the road has led you to this incredible man with the sweetest daughter, and the possibility of forever.

“I think we’ll manage until our date. Should I warn you I sleep naked?”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re keeping those tits, and that ass covered, or I’m sucking on something until Poet wakes up.”

“Wanna bet?” You squeal, dropping his hand before running towards his door. Curtis rolls his eyes before chasing you. A playfully little romp around the yard to get out any extra annoying butterflies.

“I’m sucking or eating something if you sleep naked, you make your choice.”

“We’re sleeping!”

“Then all of that,” his hands sway over your body, “Has got to be covered,” you were only teasing. But seeing him having fun about sex sends a divine feeling of comfort all over your body. Sex shouldn’t just sweep you off your feet, it should be fun, playful, and wet, and passionate, but still fun.

“Deal. After the first date, I’m sleeping naked.”

“And I’ll fuck you asleep, and fuck you in your sleep,” he winks, walking into the room before you, “Come on, my lady. Let’s cuddle until the baby awakes. No touching. Just cuddling,” you can do that. And you look forward to it. All night. Every night.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@slowdownbeforeyouregretit @rogersbarber @evelineangel66 @steviebbboi

[dsireland86]

I'd like to request a hc about how does Noah show PDA with you in public and when you're hanging out with the other guys. and how does he show you affection in private

MMMMMMMMM...... this idea has crossed my mind a lot!

P.D.A

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning

A little bit of something at the bottom so 18+

Public display of affection is in neither yours nor Noah's description of your relationship. With both of you being socially awkward, it's kind of your thing to be socially awkward in public together. While he stands with his arms folded over his chest or hands laying in front of him wringing his fingers, looking as if he's completely disconnected from everything, you’re in the background, staying out of view as much as possible. You're Noah's shadow, but in a good, supportive way, and he loves you for it. He has enough anxiety and overthinking happening in his head as it is. The fact that he never has to add you to his list of questions, doubts, or worries, knowing you're there, loving and supporting him, is what makes your relationship so strong.

It's the looks, the grins, the side smiles he gives you randomly when on tour where you're helping out wherever needed just as long as you're around him and your family. When you walk by each other, Noah's the first to reach his hand out and graze your fingers with his, or find a reason to stand behind you just so that he can touch you on the lower spot of your back that he loves kissing when he's pleasing you from behind. Physical touch is Noah's love language. He has to have it. He could care less if the two of you never spoke again, just as long as you were touching, because he tells you all the time, "I know you love me because of what you do, how you use your hands and heart, not by what you tell me."

Noah's PDA changes when he's around the guys. It's less awkward, less overthinking, and way less anxious, but still cautious. He holds you more and wants your hands constantly (your hands and breasts are his favorite parts of your body), always lacing and locking your fingers together.

Your presence is something Noah is growing to depend on. He looks to you for the safety of his emotions when his head overwhelms him. So if at any time he feels trapped or just uncomfortable, he's pulling you into him, holding you from behind or resting his head against your belly, burying his face until he's better. He doesn't hide his affection for you from the guys. They know how he feels about you.

When it's just the two of you, you still see the same sweet man you call yours, but with way more flirting. Noah is a huge flirt when you're alone together. From over the top one-liners and gushing about how beautiful you are to butt smacks and squeezes and laying over you and slipping his hands up under your shirt to fondle his favorite toys, Noah's private affection is completely 180 from his public affection, and you're a hundred percent okay with that.

Finally, there's his affection in the bedroom. Late at night, when he can't sleep, Noah finds you, somewhere between the sheets and the pitch black of the darkness. His hands pull you close, sliding between your thighs and up between your breasts, rubbing and massaging those parts of you that have been aching for his attention. His soft neck kisses drive you crazy as his lips trail down to your collarbone, trailing his tongue along the thin line. It makes you quietly moan, running your hand up into his hair and rutting your bottom against his erection that's pressed tight against you. You whisper you need more and Noah is never one to deny you anything. Calling you his queen, he strips you both and slides between your legs, giving you not only what you want, but what you deserve. He praises you, worships you, and makes you cum every single time he uses his mouth for not just his songs, and he does it in such a way that he craves how loud you are, demanding you be as loud as you can be. It makes him feel good; to know he's pleasing and satisfying the only woman who means everything to him. Tangled up together, you fall asleep in each other's arms, feeling completely and utterly safe and loved, and never once does Noah let you go. He can't. It's just not in his nature.

[darlingofvalyria]

❝You don't think I can please you?❞

part 05 | we're really in it now, darling

chapter summary:

[ Everything comes ahead at a hedge maze because. . . hedge maze. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,517 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader, aemond x alys rivers

contains— angst, a lil smutty but no full whorishness, ya'll good - i should really put idiots in love as a tag shouldn't i - nsfw: grinding + some sexy, sexy second base lmao - no kingslayers, no rogues, no betas.

a/n— i hope ya'll forgive me. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You don't really know what you were expecting come Sunday. Once you started to 'ehh' 'hmmm' and 'maybe's your way through random moments with Helaena after the radio silence from Aemond— your best friend put her foot down.

"Fuck him," Helaena grumbled. "You've been going to Sunday dinners before he was even born, you are not backing down now."

 You snorted. "That's wildly inaccurate."

"Point still stands. Fuck. Him. You deserve my mother's tiramisu cake. He doesn't get to take that from you." Her eyes widen as if trying to instil her determination into your system via eye contact. "You are not going to let him take that from you."

You nodded. That's at least a point to pro you can stand by. Though she can't cook to save her life— Alicent's words, not yours — the woman sure can bake. It became therapeutic for her, she once said. How measuring ingredients and kneading dough to patiently folding cream after another kept her mind quiet and her hands busy.

"My faith strongly does not advise rage shooting, you know?" Alicent once hummed.

"Did you mean 'range' shooting?"

"Oh?" she nodded absentmindedly, smiling. "Yes, that too."

"That's true," you mused. Tiramisu cake was her mother's specialty. Every Sunday, she has all attendees pack up at least one cake per person and you and Hel usually stave off bites throughout the week until the next Sunday comes.  "I deserve some tiramisu cake, gods be damned it."

"Plus, if you come with me, we'll get two cakes to take home instead of one." She wagged her finger. "We count as two separate entities with one fridge, it's our greatest privilege."

"Daeron calls it preferential treatment."

"I am her only daughter, of course I get preferential treatment."

"As you should, bestie."

Even when you've stopped struggling with choosing if you were going or not, your mind is never faraway from thinking about Aemond. You wonder if he's finally gotten back with Alys was a bad train of thought, while an even worse train of thought is how soft his lips were and how he holds your hair to pull you close when his tongue glides across your bottom lip.

You blink, shaken from the thought. Bad. Bad brain. Stop it.

And repeat. At this point, it was safer to think about Alys and Aemond.

According to previous cycles, by this point they'd be at the height of their newly blossomed relationship— all sweet kisses and heated looks, unable to stop touching each other much less act a little bit better when they're trying to leave a group function to fuck their brains out — so you wouldn't be surprised to see come Sunday that he arrives with Alys— both of them tall, gorgeous with just enough undertone of smirky, smarmy tension that would make you want to stab your own eye out — pointedly ignoring you or whatever happened between you and him.

It hurt to think about sure, but what else did you think was going to happen?

That call made a space the size of a puddle that turned into a lake, welled deep with unresolved feelings and untouched topics. More questions than answers, drawing lines both of you were too scared to tug and see.

It's big enough to notice, and both stubborn enough not to anything about it.

You tried. Well, you almost did. In the weird hours of the day when your brain and body are more physically disjointed so rationality gives way to adrenaline. Most of the time, this is during working hours. You, checking your phone, running around his profile with your thumb a few times, biting your lip as your mind blanks and your body fights to call him. Or leave a message.

Before your mind and body reconnects and you fling your phone as far away from you as possible.

It's weird. You've never fought with Aemond before. If this was considered fighting. You've been disappointed in him, gotten angry and annoyed with him, but someone always, always offers an olive branch.

Every time you think about that call, you close up, your annoyance flares, and you shove your phone away.

In your amicable defense, this was primarily his problem. You weren't truly dating. He made it clear every choice he was making was en toward the agreed conditions were of making his ex jealous enough to take him back, yada yada yada.

Even if, possibly, you wanted more, he made no actual steps to make it known that he was considering it too.

Funny stares on your lips don't count. The only sabbatical from sexual adventures Aemond got were the breakup round with Alys, and as established before, they got it on pretty frequently.

Another thought bubble about Aemond's lips pops in your head, the mint from his toothpaste and the coffee from his black with no sugar, no milk, the way he seemed to suckle on your sighs—

Gods. Damn. It.

Focus.

That last call?

You're a grown ass woman. You're allowed to do whatever you want with whomever you want, and you're not going to make Aemond Targaryen's steely silence of what— disappointment? Of your choices? Of your choice in Cregan Stark and Cregan Stark Jr? Of what you were doing? Sure he was faithful to the Seven, a good old religious boy raised by his momma, but it doesn't make him a saint. Just because he's clinging to the vestiges of first love thinking it could very well be his last doesn't make him holy, or warrant enough to judge you for getting your little you some good dick.

Life is hard. Good dick is hard to come by!

So. Yeah. Days leading up to Sunday was radio silence and way too many thoughts circling your head like vultures, eating away at logic and rationality, and stubbornly still, you refused to make contact. If it's not out of pride, it's out of hurt.

Because he could apologise, but Aemond wasn't known for his apologies.

But then you remembered the flowers, the tulips, and now you just felt sad. Moping, getting annoyed, and trying to get through work without breaking your phone speeds the week in a blur.

Come Sunday afternoon, Helaena was coming to pick you up from her shift at the vet— the beauty of having a vet bff is the Russian roulette of pictures; you never know if you're about to get cuddly new patients with big, sad eyes and pouty snouts or her newest c-section win without any attempts of a blur — so you could get to her mother's house together, you decided to go for the nines with your outfit.

A sweet summer dress later, some gold gladiator sandals half off from your favourite but largely can't afford shoe boutique that you swear you were always going to wear to make up for the insane price (thank the gods Alicent didn't have a no shoe policy because it takes fifteen minutes to get them on and you cannot be on the floor, on her house, with Aemond around, rolling around like a hot potato on the entry way trying to get a fucking shoe on), dusted and prepped in you're fancier version of makeup, and was just finishing off your hair— using the good mousse whilst blaring Disney epics — when knocking came.

You freeze.

On one hand, it could just be Helaena, forgetting her keys again somewhere as she had done so numerous times before, but there hadn't been a slew of expletives or her impression of a cool, clinical voice saying, ''Tis I, the Stranger, have come for thee soul! Open up I gotta pee, woman!' so you got a pretty good guess on the alternative, sending your heart into a stutter and get smacked with a well deep of yearning.

You miss Aemond. You miss hanging out with him, even just having him on video call whilst you prepped a late dinner and he's working out his thesis defense, too late for either of you, but catching another's eye in the tiny phone and sharing a comforted grin. You miss being called my lady in a language that means so much to him, miss bumping shoulders and smelling his crisp scent of cologne and laundry.

Miss his lips, his very soft, very delicious lips—

"Gods damnit, woman, keep it together," you murmur to yourself. Another series of knocks, ever patient, and you're moved by body not mind as breathless giddiness yanks the door open—

Only to fall flat.

"Oh." You can't hide your disappointment at the curly blond with the smirk for centuries. "Aegon. I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, the expressive disappointment in your eyes could bring a man on the edge to his downfall, I must say," he jokes hoarsely, a little hurt. "Not even a hi Aeg. I've missed you Aeg, or— hey Aeg! You look good enough to eat!"

It's Aegon. Not Aemond. Or Helaena. Helaena and Aemond's older brother, Aegon. Party rocking, cocaine hiding, sweat and someone's lipstick smelling Aegon. You like him despite his whorishness because he's funny, because he's sweet when he wants to be, and he always, always gets you a funny mug when he comes back from wherever he came from.

You blink a couple of times, laughing awkwardly as you give him a quick hug. He still smells the same, with the lightest tint of sun in him from his days at the beach not so long ago no doubt.

"Sorry, sorry. Hi Aeg, I've missed you Aeg, and yes, you do look good enough to eat, Aeg."

He hugs back tighter, smothering you in the denim jacket he's wearing and the curly edge of his white blond hair. He's got a new piercing and smells of new perfume.

"So do you, princess," he says as you step back and he appraises you appreciatively. "Those shoes can step on me any time."

"I will never."

"You will never," he says chirpily, moving back with a teasing grin. "Let me guess, you were waiting for my uglier version to come by and got too overwhelmed by the majesticness of me."

'"Majesticness isn't even a word." You snort. "And Aemond is not your uglier version, you don't look that alike."

He raises an eyebrow as you blink. Fuck. "Dear me oh my, I meant Helaena, babe. When did Aemond get into the mix?"

You shove his shoulder, huffing as you pick up your keys and bag, forcing him to step back as you lock the apartment, trying to give yourself grace from his burning, teasing stare. "As if Helaena didn't tell you." You finally turn to him, lips pursed at his faux innocent pout. "Helaena tells you everything."

"She might have mentioned a thing or two about a thing or two." He bumps your hip as you both get into the elevator. "Imagine my surprise when Lae-lae tells me of a wondrous development between her two favourite people that involved a breakup, some gift-giving shenanigans, and kissing." He gasps dramatically as you groaned. "I leave for what— a month or two and suddenly you and Aemond are making out? Babe, I must say, you're doing the tongue tango with the wrong brother."

 "He's not the wrong brother, also the tongue tango? Really?" you snap suddenly. The wrong brother comments always irk you because you understand that it's a sensitive issue to Aemond, as well as Aegon himself.

But it's a bait you realise too late because Aegon Targaryen enjoys hauling truths from people in steps and tricks, uncaring if he takes a stab or two to get there as you meet his gaze against the reflective wall, positively smirking.

"Really now?"

"Why are you even picking me up? I thought you were in Oldtown."

"Already sorted. Hel wanted to make sure you get there in time, she's going to be late... After all your earlier ride backed out didn't he?"

Your mouth pursed, annoyance prickling at your edges as the elevator pulled into the lobby. "I don't want to talk about it, where's your car?"

He whistles, languid and all the time in the world on his shoulders with just the hint of smug. "It's a thirty minute ride, babe, you're going to spill."

You shoot him a withering glare. "Not if I have say in it." For emphasis, you yank his door and slam it. Fuck his new Maserati.

"Mature!"

Thirty minutes is more than ample time for Aegon Targaryen to weed his way into your brain like the worst case of earworm (like a stupid ass commercial jingle that just. Won't. Stop) that by the time you reach his mother's, you were ranting.

"—like I get it, saying I'm going out with another guy to get some good dick after confirming that we're going to your mother's for Sunday as a date is bad, but we're not really dating! He said so himself! He pressed the issue of it not being a real thing! And he didn't attempt any—"

"— any communication at all," Aegon echoes, stretching his legs as he stood. "Not a sorry or anything."

"Anything!" you bolster, slamming his door again that is less about him and more about the aggressiveness. "I know that he's bad at apologising, or facing things that are hard, choosing to stew in it and act all shitty to people, I just... I thought he'd at least tell me. Doesn't that warrant our friendship?"

"Hm. Ever think that's precisely why he struggles with you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"That he cares about you, so he struggles more with expressing himself."

You turn to him, cocking your head. "When did you get so wise, oh Gandalf?"

"A Seven focused rehab facility can do that to you," he muses wistfully. "There was this nun that says verses when she orgasms."

You make a face. "Love the fun fact."

"You're welcome. But back to point, isn't the issue also the fact that you never tried to make contact with him either?"

"Well. Yeah. Because..."

Aegon squints at you sympathetically. "Because you're scared of rocking the boat because of how much you like him?"

"Not, well," you hesitate. "Not like that precisely..."

"How much you're capable of liking him?" Aegon smiles wryly. "You had a crush on him, I remembered that at least. When Hel first introduced you to him, you couldn't stop teasing him until he lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew you liked him since then. You called him pretty half the time, and I started to realise it was less about his reaction but how you actually see him, and speaking as the naturally cherub, pretty boy of the family, I find this highly, highly offensive."

You pinch his cheeks, wounding your arm over his shoulder. Aegon was built like a linebacker with less muscles that aren't postern, with wide shoulders and a strong body that's too easy to lean against.

"You're pretty too, Aeg," you coo. "But he's just..."

 "If you say ethereal, I will vomit right in my mother's petunias." He makes a face. "How about this. The problem is that you think Aemond doesn't like you back."

You frown at him. "I know Aemond doesn't like me back."

"Oh, sweetie," Aegon coos, sympathy and pity swirling in his smug, smug smile. "I'm so glad you're pretty."

You pinch his sides until he squirms. "Fuck you, what the hell?"

"What I'm saying is, let's test that, you know? Because that's the only variable you aren't sure with?"

You sigh. "Aeg, even if he does, I'm not going to pounce—"

The door swings open, and there he is, of pretty boy face and good boy posture because his mother raised herself a good, devout boy who doesn't know what a slouch is because he's not an ape— and is he wearing his leather jacket? Of course he's wearing the leather jacket and you know that smell, that spiced cologne with the leather and his natural scent and fuck, Aemond is looking at you, looking at his brother, and the open expression, the shock, that smidge of relief— shutters to an icy politeness.

Aegon because he's Aegon, pulls you closer, his mouth curling into a grin that only says trouble, forcing Aemond to straighten up his already perfect posture in preparation for whatever his brother has in mind and his stare is white-hot on the conjoined appendages between you and his brother— and Aegon lands a wet, smacking kiss on your cheekbone.

"Had to pick up your girl, baby bro, I mean what kind of—" his blue gaze finds his mother descending the stairs, peering out to see on who it was, and you're frozen, waiting for the bomb to drop and simultaneously unprepared for it, "— boyfriend has his brother pick up his girl? Good thing you got a good excuse, huh? Oh, hey mother dearest! Your favourite son has come back!"

As Aegon leaves your side with a cheeky little wink, you bit your lip at the frosty look on his face that makes you feel like an absolute idiot and fills you with rage all in one go. Because Aemond has never looked at you like that, like you were at fault and acting like a child, but that you also want to jut a finger against his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk with him on the drive over?" he says, jaw hard.

"I didn't tell him," you hiss, taking the hem of his leather jacket instead of his hands enough so you can pretend to kiss his cheeks because his mother is right there, eyes wide at that two of you as Aegon gave you a discreet thumbs up.

"Helaena did. Get over yourself, your mother's—"

 "Aemond?"

As he freezes and Alicent calls your name, you plaster the best smile you can make as you twine your fingertips with his.

"Smile."

"Hm."

When you leave his side to greet Alicent, you make sure to stomp on his stupid shoes.

As soon as you've finished your mandatory greetings— even with Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, who merely raised his eyebrows at the apparent new status of you and his grandson, Alicent having to blink multiple times, wrangling positives as she kept shooting her son looks while he stood like a block of ice behind you — Aemond takes your hand by his own volition, tangles your fingers too tight, and starts tugging you along like a bouy.

"Are you a child?" you hiss, trying to pry your hand as insistently without outright yanking, Alicent already sending you both concerned looks at a news that she called 'oh, that is wonderful!'

"I am younger than you," he murmurs back, holding you tight.

"Oh, fuck you."

With a defeated huff, you take longer, heavier strides and stomps so you're the one dragging him.

It's all illusion of control built on pettiness because you're still being navigated, it's more just pride at this point, but you don't care, and when he scoffs right back, you felt at least a pinch of a win.

And then he, of course, matches your strides so fucking easily.

"Freaking horse-legged motherfucker," you mumble. You don't know if he catches it, or you're imaging the soft, surprised noise that's both a snort and a laugh.

He winds you around the hallway, an unbreakable trajectory to the backyard, dragging you past an easy eye view from the dramatic, floor to ceiling windows and trespassing straight into the hedge maze because of course they had one of those.

"Really? Here?"

"Do you want to be ogled up by my mother?" he says in a nauseatingly chipper voice. "Is that what you and Aegon are planning with all this, hm?"

You twist out of his grip, walking deeper on your own until your eyes are swallowed by the darkness. When you turn to him, your eyes adjust, only seeing the silver of his hair, so different from his black leather jacket and dark green jumper. You don't see his expression or his sharp gaze.

"Planned this? Seriously? Nothing since coming here had been planned, Aemond," your voice has bite and if your eyes had adjusted faster, or if you could see better, you would see the flinch he makes, "if it had been, this certainly would be the last of my fucking choices. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that we were supposed to go together? Oh right, things change when you drop a call out of fucking nowhere!"

"I—fuck." He moves around, a hand through his hair as exhales in frustration. "I didn't... think you'd want to go with me. That Sunday plans had been cancelled."

"And you didn't think to message? I mean it's not like we're friends in literally every social media." You try not to sound hurt before taking a deep breath, offering your palms up. "I didn't—don't even know what the issue is, Aemond. Were you so offended that I was sexually active that you just had to rudely drop the call and not talk—"

It's maybe the darkness, or intuition but you can bet half yours savings that Aemond Targaryen is blushing.

"It... gods, no it's not... I wasn't offended that you were sexually active," he says softly, evenly. He clears his throat. "I don't... mind that you're... sexually active. I actively... support it. Even." He coughs. Swallows. Curses.

If you don't feel like your heart is pounding in your throat you would have laughed. You had never seen the boy this flustered before that it's affecting his words, because Aemond has always been the most well spoken person you know.

"Is it about Cregan? Do you have something against Cregan?"

His eye flutter close. "No... and yes."

"I don't understand, Aemy," you whisper, defeated.

He sighs. In the dark, you notice a movement. His hands flex. It's a habit he's had since you've known him. It's instinct. The way you reach out, finding a piece of his leather jacket until you find your way to his hands, running your fingers over the bones and ridges, his sinew and skin. There are callouses from his fencing, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He's frozen first before he sighs, melting through the warmth you share with him.

 "I have nothing against Stark," he finally says. "It's the fact that you were still having sex with him that I found unfair." He steps closer until you can see his face better, the struggle in him can be told through the furrow in his brows and the press of his pillowy lips, red and wet as if he had bitten through it. "I... understand that we're not really together, but I couldn't... not feel as if it wasn't right. As if I wanted it to be me."

His hands finds your arms, eye closing and gently placing his forehead against your own. At first you panic, your body trying to make your brain decide do you like this or not but it's Aemond, and he's warm, gentle, sweet almost. It's familiar and new at the same time. It's warmth you recognise, skin you will know anywhere, but in a way that you've never felt him before.

You close your eyes and breathe with him.

You know that this is rare. That this Aemond is reserved for people he loves and cares about, but with his forehead against yours, with his hands holding you steady, rubbing a comforting thumb over your skin that felt just as for him as it was for you, breathing you in and exhaling you out. A single breath between two bodies.

"I don't know if I can agree to that, Aemy."

"What?" He pulls back, hurt pulling taunt your favourite pair of lips. "Do you like Cregan more? You don't think I can please you?"

"That's not—"

His hands closes on your face, cupping it in his palms as you stare, wide-eyed at the blue fire lit up in his eye. His breath brushes your lips, making them tingle.

"Push me away if you don't want it," he says before his eye closes and he takes your mouth against his own, swallowing your gasp then pulling you away again, eye glinting.

"Push me away, ñuha riña." His voice is so soft, words crisp while your body thrummed in a single, frantic heartbeat. When you don't move, too shock, thoughts tangled, he smirks.

With his teeth, he captures your bottom lip, grazing it. When he feels you shudder, eyes fluttering, he chuckles meanly.

"Push me away as if you don't want me." He tilts your chin up as he looks down on you, eye confident in its lust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. "As if you don't feel everything I do."

"Fuck you," you manage to exhale as you grab the back of his head and devour him just as you did at the restaurant. He groans, using his other hand to feel your side, pass your one breast, giving it a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, tongue clashing, legs tangling as you push and push and he pulls you to him, his back hitting the prickly hedge. It's teeth and tongue, breaths twisted in one air as you used each other like lifelines, like enemies in a swords match.

It's feverish and passion, infuriating want that gives. Because when you dominate the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own, yanking him down and down as if you want him to reach every part of you inside, he bends and follows. And when he pulls you, tangles your hair and takes every gasp and breath, you surrender.

He groans when you suck on his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to spit out, "You taste so much better than my dreams." His mouth moves down and down, leaving a path of heat as he suckles at your neck, practically ripping the buttons of the top of your dress as he slides down and grunts in pain.

"A-Aemy?" Your eyes flutter. "Your back, shit—"

"Fuck that." He tugs you down until you land with an oomph! on his lap, your chest at his eye level before he drags them back to your gaze. "Tell me to stop."

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No."

"Good."

Your back arches, supported in his hold, as he starts sucking the skin lower and lower, another hand massaging your tit that pools hot down your core until his hand, warm and solid, sinew and bone, and Aemond Aemond Aemond, slides between your bra and cups your breast and his hand is so big, and it feels so good that you start grinding on the hard length you feel right at your—

An ear-splitting shriek freezes the both of you. You and Aemond pull back, hand still on your tit.

"Wha—"

"Ew, ew, ew! Mom said you were fighting! FIGHTING DOES NOT EQUATE FUCKING IN THE MAZE, YOU FUCKING CLICHES!"

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm

[gabessquishytum]

Ages ago I was thinking about married dreamling later in life, and I rambled out a few hundred words about Hob having a big butt and Dream loving it... I'm probably not going to do anything with it now but I think it deserves to be posted, and it would be amazing if it inspired further thoughts about middle aged comfy dreamling <3

Potential tw for mild body image issues. Enjoy! <33

It's not that Hob thinks that Dream is weak, alright? That's not what it's about at all.

When they met at university some 20 years ago it had been very much a “twink4twink” kind of affair. Hob had looked like a strong gust of wind might blow him over. He had to have extra holes drilled in his belts to keep his jeans from falling down. He was frequently accused of having hollow legs – and Dream was no better. No amount of pot noodles and cheap beer seemed to make a difference. They used to be able to share clothes.

Things have changed. Somewhere along the line during the two decades of their relationship, Dream filled out into a lean yet distinguished gentleman, whose flat stomach paired very nicely with his sinewy arms and strong calves. His suits fit him immaculately, and Hob wouldn't even dare to try and get into his skinny cut trousers.

Twink death, they call it. That's what Hob’s been through. He's actually not mad about it. But what the hell is he supposed to do when his beloved husband asks him to sit on his face?!

Dream has such a pretty face, too. That lovely sharp little nose. Those cheekbones. Hob would very much like to sit on it, actually. Then he'll catch a glimpse of his own arse in the mirror. What if he breaks his darling Dream’s pretty face? So he makes excuses and distracts Dream with other activities. He gets Dream to sit on his face. But Dream does keep asking, and Hob does hate to deprive him of something that he obviously wants.

“Dearest darling. It's not that I don't want to.” He admits, the next time Dream brings it up with a hopeful lilt in his voice. “Don't you think I'm just a bit too… big? I mean, my bottom eclipses the dining room chairs. I'm afraid you have to face facts. It might just be a bit ambitious.”

Dream looks out from under his eyelashes. And he licks his lips slowly. “Does it not occur to you that the size may in fact be part of the appeal, in this case?”

Hob blushes. He can vividly feel his cheeks heating up. “You want me to potentially break your nose with my massive arse?”

“I want you to sit on my face so that I can pleasure you with my tongue, and feel your thighs flexing around my head, and feel the softness of your body rippling under my hands. I will beg for it if you wish, my beloved husband. I will beg to feel your weight on me.”

Hob doesn't make him beg. After such a moving speech, Dream deserves to get exactly what he wants. Possibly for the rest of their entire marriage, but certainly for the next half an hour at least. If he wants a massive arse, then Hob will gladly provide it.

Next time he catches himself in the mirror, he'll smile. Maybe have a little wiggle. And think about Dream’s tongue, with all the wicked things it can do…

[eyesofshinigami]

Worth It

Rating: E

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, smut, anal sex, top Eddie, bottom Steve

Prompt: For @sharpbutsoft "Love is being late to work because you can't ever say goodbye in a reasonable amount of time"

WC: 579

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 14. Spicier bits under the cut

Steve knows he’s going to be late. Robin is going to kill him and he’ll deserve it, but. Right now?

Right now, all he can do is lay back and enjoy the way that Eddie feels against him. 

He’d woken up before his alarm, which happens some mornings. His body gets restless, feels like he needs to get up and move and do something or he’ll crawl right out of his skin. Most mornings like that he just gets up and goes to make breakfast and start getting ready for the day. His boyfriend isn’t a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, so Steve lets him sleep.

Not this morning, apparently.

No, just as Steve was getting up, Eddie wrapped a sleepy arm around him and pulled him back into bed. “W’er you goin’?” he mumbles, nuzzling into Steve’s shoulder. His lips brush the mark he left on Steve the night before, making Steve shiver. “Can’t leave.”

Steve laughs, half-heartedly trying to squirm out of Eddie’s grasp. “Going to go make breakfast. Have to leave for work soon.”

“Wrong answer,” Eddie teases, his hand snaking down to slip inside Steve’s boxers. “You’re going to stay right here with me and let me love you some more.”

Eddie sounds much more awake than he should be, given the hour, but Steve feels the hot press of Eddie’s cock against his back. Steve whimpers, heat flaring in his belly. No. Nope. He’s got to get up and get ready for work, not get fucked again. “Eds, no, I have to get up.”

Eddie wraps his hand around Steve’s cock, giving him a good stroke that makes Steve shudder. “If you really want me to, I’ll let you go. But I want to hear you say it, baby. Tell me you don’t want me to send you off to work well-fucked and full of me.” Steve’s cock is hard and throbbing in his hand by now, and Steve can’t help the way his hips shift, how much he wants it. He knows Eddie would, would just let him get up and go about his business, wouldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

But Steve wants it. He wants it so bad he shifts so that Eddie’s fingers can trail down, down, down, right to where Steve’s still a little wet and a little loose from the night before. “Want that. Want to be full of you.”

“Yeah? Want to feel me all day while you work? Remind you of what you’ve got waiting at home for you when you finish your shift?”

Steve nods, pushing back against the fingers sliding inside of him. It stings a little, riding the line of pain and pleasure that they tend to ride together when they’re like this. “Please, baby.”

Eddie grins against his neck. “You might be late, if I get to do all I want to do to you.” He doesn’t stop the steady thrust of his fingers, spreading them wide and making Steve moan at how gloriously full he feels. “But how could I say no, when you’re writhing against me like this? Begging for my cock. Don’t worry, baby, I want you just as bad.” He grabs the lube from under the pillow (apparently they’re the kind of people who leave lube everywhere) and pulls his fingers out.

Steve lets out a whine and Eddie hushes him. It becomes a tangle of limbs as they push their boxers down and Eddie covers his cock in lube, rubbing the head against Steve’s hole a couple of time before he pushes inside.

It’s a tight slide, but fuck if it doesn’t make Steve’s nerves sing. His own cock flexes against his belly as Eddie fucks him slowly, Steve losing himself in the rhythm and the feeling of being taken like this. It’s slow, lazy, and perfect. All the thoughts of being late flit out of his head, taken over by Eddie’s hot kisses against his skin, the dirty words he’s saying smeared across his neck and shoulder.

He’s close, can feel it building low in his belly. His cock is dribbling precome and he reaches down to take his cock in his hand, feeling it jerk in his fingertips as he starts stroking. 

Which is right about the time the alarm went off.

Steve freezes and so does Eddie, mid-thrust. It would have been comical if Steve hadn’t been right on the edge of coming. 

“Are you going to turn it off?” Eddie asks, resuming his thrusts. The heat starts building again and Steve nearly forgets what he was supposed to be doing.

He reaches over and hits the button, moaning against the sheets when the change in angle makes Eddie hit right against that spot inside him. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, right there…” Steve cries out, stroking himself and fucking back against Eddie. It’s no longer slow and lazy, but frantic and fast and just a little rough.

Steve comes with a cry, his cock jerking in his fingers as he rides out. Eddie tumbles over a couple of thrusts later, warmth blooming inside of him from where Eddie’s cock is flexing and filling him up. It’s good. It’s so good and Steve can’t even care that he’s going to be late.

“Worth it?” Eddie asks between kisses.

“Worth it,” Steve repeats as they pull apart.

It’s a rush to shower and Steve grabs a piece of toast to go, Eddie kissing him goodbye as he runs out the door. 

He’s fifteen minutes late and Robin does yell at him, even as she’s wiggling her eyebrows and teasing him. But he’s happy and well-fucked, whistling as he goes about shelving movies and rewinding tapes.

Worth it, indeed.