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#but i still feel the tension and if i move around too much i can feel it hurting a bit again
writeriguess · 3 days
Note
timeskip bakugo x pregnant Reader? Thank you!
The quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the living room as you sank deeper into the couch, one hand resting on the gentle swell of your stomach. The house was calm, save for the occasional sound of Bakugo’s footsteps as he moved around the kitchen. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the soft warmth of the evening lulling you into a state of relaxation.
“Oi, don’t fall asleep on me,” Bakugo’s gruff voice pulled you from your thoughts. He walked over with a glass of water in one hand, placing it on the small table beside you.
You smiled softly, looking up at him through tired eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping,” you murmured, though the fatigue in your voice betrayed you.
“Yeah, sure,” he huffed, plopping down beside you. His large hand immediately found its way to your stomach, as it often did these days. The feeling of his calloused palm over your skin was oddly comforting, grounding you. “You’ve been pushing it too hard today. I told you to rest.”
“I was resting,” you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice. “You’re the one who keeps telling me to walk around more.”
“Not when you’re this tired,” he muttered, rubbing slow, soothing circles over your belly. His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a rare gentleness in his expression that still surprised you. “You gotta take care of yourself.”
You sighed, leaning into his touch. “I know, Katsuki.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, his attention focused entirely on the life growing inside of you. Despite his usual brash demeanor, Bakugo had been surprisingly attentive during your pregnancy, always making sure you were comfortable, eating enough, and resting when you needed it. It was one of the many ways he showed he cared, even if he didn’t say it out loud as often as he should.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked quietly.
“Just tired. The baby’s been moving a lot today,” you replied, placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin. “But we’re okay.”
Bakugo grunted in acknowledgment, leaning his head back against the couch. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t know what I’d do if something happened.”
You glanced at him, your heart swelling with affection at the rare vulnerability in his voice. “We’re going to be fine, Katsuki. You don’t have to worry so much.”
“Tch. You say that, but you don’t know how much this shit stresses me out,” he muttered, though his hand remained steady and calm. “What if I screw up? What if I’m not cut out for this?”
You frowned, sitting up slightly to get a better look at him. “Katsuki, you’re going to be an amazing dad. You care so much already. That’s what matters.”
He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he stared ahead. “I just… I don’t wanna mess it up. I don’t wanna fail you or the baby.”
You reached out, cupping his cheek gently, forcing him to look at you. “You won’t. You’ve never failed me, Katsuki.”
His gaze softened, and for a moment, all the tension in his body seemed to melt away. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Damn, woman… You always know what to say.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That’s because I know you better than anyone.”
He opened his eyes, and for a second, you saw something unspoken pass between you—a promise, a shared understanding of the life you were building together. Bakugo had always been a force of nature, unstoppable and determined, but when it came to you and your unborn child, he was a shield, a protector in every sense of the word.
“Alright,” he muttered, standing up suddenly. “You’re done for the night. I’m making dinner, and you’re gonna sit there and relax.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at his bossy tone. “I can help, you know.”
“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder as he moved back to the kitchen. “You sit there and let me take care of it.”
You watched him work, your heart swelling with love as you listened to the sound of him moving around the kitchen. This was your life now—quiet evenings, gentle touches, and the steady promise of a future together. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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stylesispunk · 3 days
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
previous part | next part
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
+++++++++++++
Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
+++++++++++++
You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe
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simplygojo · 2 days
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I Like Your Tie...
A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.
Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)
My requests are always open :)
Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader
Word count: 3.8K
Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name
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The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.
But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.
There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 
You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 
You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 
But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.
As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.
There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.
And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.
There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 
Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.
But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 
The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.
His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.
“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.
“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.
You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 
You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.
“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.
Your heart pounded in your chest. 
“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.
Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 
“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.
He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.
“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 
“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 
The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.
"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.
Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.
“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”
Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.
“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.
The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.
The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.
“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.
His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.
Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.
You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.
His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 
"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"
His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 
His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.
His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.
He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.
Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."
Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 
His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.
The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.
“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.
He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.
“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 
Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 
With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.
“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.
“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”
You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.
"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.
He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.
You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”
The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 
“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.
You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.
“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.
“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”
His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.
The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.
He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”
His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.
Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace
His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.
Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.
“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”
Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 
The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.
“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.
His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.
“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”
His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 
Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.
Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 
But he didn’t stop. 
Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.
Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”
Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 
"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.
He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.
“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"
You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.
Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.
Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”
With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.
"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."
He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 
His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 
“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 
Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”
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228 notes · View notes
matryosika · 3 days
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Three Times Again
Pairing — Hyunjin & Reader Wordcount — 6,171 words Includes — Fem!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, smut (warnings under the cut). Author's Note — Finished college, graduated with a psychology degree and a 98.8/100 general score, I now have a serious, serious job and I haven't written anything in eight or nine months so this is the best I can do at this point. This might be a bit rusty but honestly I'm happy I was able to write something for the first time in so long. Don't think I forgot about you folks, I never will! Hope you didn't forget about me either.
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Smut Warnings — Virgin AND inexperienced reader paired with somewhat experienced male character, best friends trope. Use of petnames, praise and worship if you squint, very very delicate smut if i'm being honest. Fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, lots of making out and kisses, protected sex, mentions and use of condom, piv.
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It was bound to happen.
Hyunjin knew it. You knew it. All of your friends knew it. 
Rather sooner than later, it was just bound to happen. 
The four walls on his bedroom and the remnants of the incense smoke are lively witnesses of the tension unraveling —a tension that lasted enough for the two of you, and that is now slowly causing havoc with each of your heartbeats.
It all started with a simple, pointless "truth or dare" kind of game, you and your friend's very own rendition: truth or shot. You asked each other's questions, and you could choose between replying or chugging down a shot of liquid courage. No room for those "lick the floor" or "text your ex" shenanigans. 
Of course the catch was that after 3 or 4 rounds, your headspace wasn't as sober as initially. And after a series of shots, one would eventually start spitting out just truths that cannot be spoken after the sun rises.
“Don’t think about it,” Hyunjin begs in between kisses, dragging his swollen lips  along your shoulders and neck. His hands are roaming underneath your clothes, getting familiar with your body while feeling your warmth. “Please, don’t think about it”. 
You can't. And you try not to. 
At least not when the sensations of his wet lips teasing your skin becomes too much to handle in a span of minutes, or when the ghost trailing of his fingertips against your flesh is making you turn desperate for him.
But it is difficult.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, the logical, still functioning part of your brain tries to protest. Despite how aroused you are, and despite how receptive your body is to that of Hyunjin's. “We’re- you’re my best friend Hyunjin”. 
“And you’re mine,” he hums against your skin, only lifting his gaze when you bury your fingers a bit too harshly onto his dark hair locks, “is that so wrong?”
His words get underneath your skin in ways that they shouldn't, and you start kissing your rationality goodbye as Hyunjin nibbles softly at the flesh where your shoulders and neck connect.
“You’re- we are going to regret this,” you exhale, ironically locking your arms around his neck. Your words are only saying much, but your body is risking it all to let him know that you want this just as much as he does. “What if- you wake up tomorrow and think this was a mistake?”
The dark-haired lets out a quiet groan, filled with both amusement and despair. “How can this be a mistake?” he asks, moving one of his hands from your hips to your thighs, sneaking it between your shorts and your underwear, “how can it be a mistake when I've waited years to have you like this, all for me?”. 
You arch your back against the palm of his hand. 
“Hyunjin,” you exhale his name once again, but you're not quite sure what for. It could be a plea, or the beginning of a sentence you can't begin to articulate in a situation like this. It could also be the familiarity of the word falling from your lips in between moans —you would be such a filthy liar if you were to deny having touched yourself while thinking about your friend before. 
Either way, Hyunjin never really thought of his name that much until now, that he's hearing you moaning it. 
“Yeah?” he asks with a weak hum, getting lost in the way you smell, “talk to me”. 
“F-fuck,” you murmur weakly, the stinging feeling of tears pricking on the corners of your eyes.  You’re about to cry, but you don't know why. Blame it on the alcohol, the sudden release of that secret you've kept years locked inside of you, or the overwhelming sensation Hyunjin’s skin is, “promise me something-”. 
Your friend is all too busy engraving every single inch of your skin into his brain. Every freckle, mole and stretch mark, he needs to memorize your flesh like it's a map. He wants to remember how it looks underneath the dim light of his room, proof that this all happened and it's not just another wet dream of his.
“Anything,” he says, with such a raspy voice it's vibrations travel from the skin spilling out from your bra up until your throbbing center, “ask me anything”. 
You gather all your courage within you to lift your upper body from the mattress, resting your weight on your forearms and causing Hyunjin to take a slight step back from you.
“Promise me this isn't going to change a thing in our friendship,” you murmur, your chest moving up and down almost frantically. Hyunjin's dark eyes are all over yours, with a subtle furrow in his brows that just tells you he's still trying to get a hold on everything that's happening. “Promise me, Hyunjin”. 
You're honestly asking for a lot. How can he promise such a thing, when he is already missing the warmth of your skin? How can he pretend nothing is going to change, when tomorrow he will wake up with the ghostly feeling of your pussy around his dick?
Hyunjin will say yes. Hyunjin will say that he promises you something he knows he is not going to fulfill. And honestly, he can play pretend. You're not going to be able to tell, and he is not going to say it. 
But Hyunjin knows everything is going to change the minute he gets to feel your lips on his again. He knows nothing will ever be the same once he bottoms out inside you, hearing you moaning and gasping while he fucks you however you ask him to.
“I promise,” he swallows the lie thickly, staring at you between furrowed eyebrows. “I fucking promise just- please let me have you, please”. 
You're staring at each other with hitched breath, rapid heartbeats and an insane amount of uncertainty neither of you can sort out. 
“Please let me taste you,” Hyunjin plants a chaste kiss right above your hip bone.
And then another. 
And another.
And another.
“Please,” he begs again, humming your name. “Let me make you feel real good”. 
You close your eyes in defeat, getting immersed in the way his hot lips feel against your tummy. He is kissing, and licking, and nibbling at your flesh, it's practically impossible not to give in when all that's left is your word consenting to it.
“Please,” Hyunjin insists, the tip of his fingers grazing against the hems of your skirt and underwear. “Say you want this just as much as I do”. 
You whine, kicking your head back.
“Say it,” he repeats, whispering your name. “I need to hear it from you. I need to know that you want me like I want you”. 
“I want this,” you finally confess. “I want this- fuck, I want you, Hyunjin”. 
The words leave your lips with a shakily breath, and you think it might be the release of it all.
His lips crash into yours once again, and you realize how much you missed his taste despite having kissed him just minutes ago. Hyunjin's saliva tastes like plum soju, mint and your strawberry gloss, and your heart skips a beat at the realization that this is real, that this is happening —your taste and essence lingers in Hyunjin's mouth, and there's no turning back now. 
The closer your bodies are, the more your fragrances mix. You can't tell his smell apart from yours, and he can't tell either —your hands smell like his lotion, and his shirt smells like your perfume.
Your mind spirals into all the sensations he is providing you with, that is until his hands sneak underneath your blouse and you get to feel his hot flesh against the sides of your body.
Then, your mind goes blank.
Your blood boils, you feel the heat rising to your chest, cheeks and ears. You feel exposed, in a way, but you're sure things aren't going to end there.
Hyunjin has seen nothing of you just yet.
"Can I take this off?" His hands are still attached to your waist underneath your clothes, and as far as you're concerned he could be talking about your shirt or your bra. You want those two off anyways, so you nod and agree to whatever he is thinking.
Things unfold in slow motion to your eyes, but everything is happening pretty fast, actually. In the blink of an eye your blouse is scattered around his bedroom floor, and it doesn't take too long before his t-shirt is joining yours there, too. 
Between all the kisses and pettings, you feel the loss of his warmth when he takes a step back. Then, you feel really exposed.
Apart from your heavy breaths and fast heartbeats, the room is completely quiet. So quiet it scares you, so you break the silence with a muffled "what?".
Hyunjin's straight eyebrows furrow just slightly, and he parts his lips to say something yet nothing comes out of them. Nothing but a deep, trembling exhale; it sounds like the equivalent to being able to finally breath after being underwater for so long.
“What, Hyunjin?” You repeat with a stern voice, fearing he might've started to regret the whole thing. He is unreadable —as far as you're concerned, he could be having second thoughts about this stupid idea. You wouldn't blame it for it.
But when he drops to his knees in front of you, and his hands find the waistband of your skirt, you get the sense that he might not be regretting any of this at all.
“So pretty,” he mutters, with rounded eyebrows like crescent moons and big, open eyes as he stares up at you, “you’re so, so pretty”. 
The compliment takes your breath away, and the skin on your nape and back short-circuits as if an explosion of electricity it’s taking place underneath your flesh.
"You really think so?" You're not quite sure what prompts you to ask such a question, but you figure you should let yourself get loose. The last thing you want for tonight is to hold back, because that isn't the idea.
You're doing this with Hyunjin for a reason, and said reason is because you trust him.
Without holding back, without overthinking, without hesitating. There will be plenty of time to reflect on whatever happens tonight, but right now isn't the time.
At least not when Hyunjin is kneeling in front of you, holding so much adoration in his eyes you swear you finally feel those butterflies people keep talking about.
“I know so,” he reiterates, “just look at you”. 
Your eyes fall to where his hands meet with your skirt, and this time he asks for consent with just his gaze. You nod and swallow thickly, watching as his fingers expertly dance along the hems of your skirt.
You want to shy away, to cover yourself and evaporate into thin air —at the same time, Hyunjin wants to look at you. You want him to be the first one to see you naked, to touch parts of your body nobody has before. You want to see his expression, to wonder what he will do when the realization of having you in his bed finally sinks in.
Because up until now, everything feels like a fever dream to him.
You stand in front of the edge of his bed, and watch as he undresses you. His hands trace the path of the skirt, from your thighs to your calves, and only looks up when it reaches your ankles, signaling for you to step out of it.
The color and fabric of your panties match those of the bra, and for a split second Hyunjin feels played. 
Did you plan it? Have you been thinking about this as much as he has?
It could be a coincidence, but it isn't —at some point throughout the night, you and Hyunjin were bound to happen. And you both knew it.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, standing up from the floor right in front of you. His eyes are all over your face, his hands are shy and you get the feeling that he might kiss you, but all he does is press his lips against yours and murmurs, “you make me feel so- fuck, I don’t even know”. 
You appreciate Hyunjin's sincerity, because honestly you don't know either. All you know is the adrenaline running through your veins, and the palpitations you feel underneath your left rib cage and between your thighs.
All you know is that you want Hyunjin to fuck you. Whether it's painful, or not. Whether you get to feel some pleasure, or not. All you want is for him to be your first, to be the one you experience sex for the first time like everyone around you already has.
It's actually more complicated than that, than just experiencing, but you don't dwell on it for long.
“Don’t think about it too much,” you suggest, just as fazed as he is. “Don’t think about anything just- do whatever you want”.
Hyunjin is unsure of what he is doing, judged by the hesitation behind his movements. He holds you by the small of your back and presses you tightly against his body, so close the tip of your noses are grazing against each other.
“Stop me if I hurt you,” he whispers with shortness of breath, “alright?”
You nod and swallow thickly, “okay”. 
Inevitably, Hyunjin feels a pressure over his shoulders. He knows it is your first time. 
You deserve something memorable, something that it's all about you. 
Sure, his dick is hard and throbbing, and he swears he is one second away from exploding inside his pants, but he is willing to leave his pleasure aside for yours.
He'd have other opportunities to get his dick wet and other chances to experiment. Right now it should be all about you, about making you feel good.
And under that thought, he kisses you again. 
Soft and slowly, dragging the tip of his fingers along the middle of your back. His tongue brushes against yours and you completely forget about the concept of oxygen.
It doesn't matter now that Hyunjin's breath is everything you need to respire.
His fingers keep lingering in the hooks of your bra, and it surprises you how he is able to get it off of you on his own.
"No man ever gets it right the first time," your best friend had told you amidst laughter. But Hyunjin just did in his first try. He is just naturally good at everything he does; excelling at random tasks, always getting things perfectly from the very start.
You hardly think about how naked you're in comparison to him, because he presses his chest to yours and your breasts become squeezed by his golden skin. You feel your nipples hardening against him, and you’re fully aware he can feel them too.
Fuck, he can feel them. And his cock gets even harder by that alone. 
“Let me see you,” Hyunjin whispers under his breath, but you wrap your arms around his neck, preventing him from taking a step back from you. You shake your head, feeling abruptly overwhelmed by his embrace, as well as the cold air hitting your skin.
“No one has ever seen me naked,” you say.
He knows.
“I want to see you, if you let me,” he swallows thickly, brushing his nose against yours. “Please, let me see you”.
Hyunjin feels your arms releasing some strength, falling limp over his shoulders, and he takes that as an opportunity to walk back just enough to see you.
All of you.
Everything he shouldn't fantasize about, but he does. 
“God,” he exhales with a strangled breath, doing everything he possibly can to remain collected.
But it's irrational, and impossible. How can he remain calm when you're standing naked in front of him? Your skin is covered in goosebumps, your nipples are hard and the dark, wet patch on your cotton underwear just tells him that your body needs something only he can give you. How can he be calm throughout any of this?
He can’t, and he is finally coming to terms with it.
“It’s not fair,” you murmur, slyly crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m practically naked, and you still have your pants on”. 
Hyunjin listens, but decides to ignore you. Instead, his hands find your crossed arms and he motions for you to drop them, pressing his lips against yours to kiss you one more time.
He swears he might never get tired of kissing you, ever.
“Lay down,” he presses desperate, short kisses against your lips, and you follow his guidance until your back meets the softness of the comforter.
His hands hold the sides of your body, only to drag the last piece of clothing off from your body. And it happens all too fast, that you don't even have time to shy away. Hyunjin lays down between your spread legs, with his hands and arms hooked underneath your thighs, half-lidded eyes looking right at yours.
“Remember,” Hyunjin warns, and the feeling of his warm breath against your core feels too weird and unfamiliar, you mean to close your legs around him but he doesn't allow you to, “tell me if I hurt you”. 
Your heart would have exploded inside your chest at the sight, but it doesn't until Hyunjin's tongue meets your pussy for the first time. Then, you feel your heartbeats ringing loudly in your ears.
“Shit,” you curse under your breath, holding up your weight with your forearms.
“You’re dripping wet,” he murmurs, nose brushing against your clit while his tongue collects all your arousal, “you must have been wanting this for so long”.
You writhe under his hold, feeling weakened by his words. Your chest feels heavy, and there's a tension on your lower back that prompts you to grind your hips against his face, practically begging for him to do something.
And he does —the tip of his digits slide against your folds, exploring you. He focuses his tongue on your clit, and by that alone you swear you're seeing stars. You thought the stimulation would pretty much feel like your fingers or toys, but it's nothing close to that. It feels foreign, out of your control, and you like that.
“How do you touch yourself?” Hyunjin asks with a deep voice you swear you can't recognize. 
Instead of replying, you guide one of your hands to his, that is already wet and sticky, and take two of his fingers, “put them inside”. 
He follows your orders, sinking his index and middle finger with such an ease it surprises both of you. Normally, it would take you a while to get wet on your own —right now, it seems that your body is reacting to Hyunjin much faster than you expected.
“So fucking warm,” the mutter is more to himself than to you, but you still catch it. And for some reason, the sound of his voice makes you clench harder around his fingers, “and so tight”. 
“Don’t say that,” you kick your head back, closing your eyes shut.
“I know you like it,” he says, a small smile creeping through the corners of his lips, “I can feel it”. 
There it is, again. Your walls flutter around his fingers, squeezing them softly at every word he says.
“You like it when I tell you how wet you are?” Hyunjin’s voice is gradually lower now, and his choice of words has the desired effect on you, “don’t lie, I can feel you getting tighter”. 
This may be better than any lie detector the world has come to know. Discovered by none other than Hyunjin, right before any other guy all over you could.
“Shit,” you curse under your breath, your fingers instinctively latching to his black hair. You don't mean to pull it, but you find yourself using it as leverage, and Hyunjin finds himself groaning at it, “seems like I've discovered something about you too”.
He smiles and presses his lips and nose further against you, pretending to know every single inch of your core with his tongue. It's the first time he has you like this, and he isn't quite sure if he is doing alright —a couple of soft whimpers and quiet, strangled moans are falling from your lips, but that isn’t enough for Hyunjin.
"What else do you do?" He asks, and the question comes out more as a whimper than a casual, nonchalant voice. He is clearly affected by all of this, and you can tell by his hips rut against his bed as he touches you. “When you touch yourself, what else do you do?” 
One of your hands leaves his dark hair, and guide to your breasts. It always goes a little bit like that —your dominant hand maneuvers the toy against your clit, and your other hand focuses on your breasts and nipples, pinching and twisting them as you like.
Fuck, well, that's going to be a sight imprinted in Hyunjin's mind forever. The way your back arches as soon as your fingers tease your nipples, the way your chest elevates with a deep inhale. The way your hips buck against Hyunjin's touch, and how your toes curl just slightly at the stimulation.
He soon focuses again on his task, pumping two of his fingers inside you while his tongue takes care of your clit that has become more swollen than initially. 
He is doing anything he can to get to know you, to see how his touch is affecting you. And when his middle finger touches a spot inside your walls that he hadn't before, and you let out a guttural moan of his name, Hyunjin stops short.
“Did I-” 
He must think he hurt you. But it's all quite the opposite. 
“Right there,” you shake your head frantically, acquiring strength from, practically, nowhere to push your body up in your forearms again, “shit, again, do it again”.
And he complies. His middle finger curls, and the reaction he gets is the same, if not more pronounced, from you.
“You’re fucking dripping,” repeatedly, he manages to find a pace of his own. His fingers move slowly and deliciously inside of you, almost always touching that spot that has you moaning louder than before. That, added with the suck of his mouth around your clit, sends you to cloud 9.
You've never felt this before, on your own, and it scares you.
It feels more intense, and slightly painful. Your lower back hurts, you're sweating and you fear you might pee. 
It definitely feels as if you're going to pee.
“Hyunjin!” You gasp, your hands pushing him away, “I feel- ‘m gonna make a mess”. 
His heart is beating loud in his ears, and he feels the pressure of your thighs squeezing his face. The quick thought that he might be hurting you flies across Hyunjin's mind, but is quickly discarded when your hips move in sensual circles against him.
You must be close.
“Wait!” You gasp, and Hyunjin withdraws from between your legs, but his fingers continue fucking your pussy with an increased pace, “G-god, fuck, I’m-”.
You’re babbling, not making any sense. And Hyunjin feels his dick leaking precum, sticking to his underwear. Never in all his years of life had he been this hard, and it's hurting him to no end. At the same time, it feels deliciously torturing. 
He just fears he might come untouched.
“Close?” Hyunjin asks, and you just nod frantically. 
As if an expert, his palm hits your clit every time he bottoms his fingers out inside of you. A part of him tells him he should position himself back between your legs and make you come with his mouth and fingers; the other, however, urges him to crawl up, between kneeling and lying next to you, as his available hand guides your chin to him.
The sight is even better like this, Hyunjin thinks —your teary eyes and the hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks with sweat is something he might never be able to forget.
The way you're staring at him like you're scared, and confused, and oh so aroused. He is the reason behind your body shaking and your hands gripping the bed sheets underneath you; the reason behind your cries and whimpers, and the wetness between your legs.
All because of him.
"I think I'm coming," you manage to spit out in a strangled breath, and soon after lose complete control over your body.
Your back arches against his bed, your legs close around his wrist, and your body threatens to push him away. But Hyunjin doesn't let you —he embraces you, holding you in place as you ride your high. 
“There you go,” he murmurs, with a soft smile creeping through the corners of his lips.
Your trembling hand wraps around his bicep, and you can barely open your eyes without tearing up. Whatever just happened, you haven't experienced it before.
“Hyunjin,” you whimper yet again, feeling how your walls clench over and over around his fingers. It tired you, both mentally and physically —your toes feel funny from clenching them much, your legs are sore from being spread open for a while now, and your hips feel tired from all the tension that suddenly snapped minutes ago, “holy fuck, Hyunjin”. 
“I’m right here,” he tells you while leaving a quick kiss on your lips.
And then another.
And another.
And another, until it turns into a proper kiss, one that isn’t nearly as sloppy or fast as the ones he offered you before. This time, Hyunjin kisses you slowly, carefully, almost as if he is trying to soothe all that tension with his lips.
You place your hands on either side of his face, and he does the same —with ease, he manages to position himself on top of you, with so much care not to put all his weight on top. Hyunjin only breaks the kiss to look at you, and the way your lips form a subtle "o" when you feel his erection pressed against your lower abdomen is enough for him to run out of breath.
“We don’t have to- I mean, we don’t have to do it tonight,” Hyunjin murmurs, his lips barely touching yours. “We can stop right here, I’m okay with-” 
“Let’s do it,” you notice how he swallowed thickly and how his bright eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights stare at you with just the same amount of fear and lust. 
To be your first; to mess around together, to experience what sex is all about.
You want this, and he wants this just as much. There's trust, and there is a promise —nothing can go wrong because that's exactly why you're doing it with each other.
Because there's no one else in this world you trust more than Hyunjin.
“Okay,” he exhales, backing away from your body to fully undress himself. And although it's not prohibited to look, you feel insanely awkward when your eyes meet his figure.
Hyunjin doesn't show much skin, not even during the summer days when you visited the beach or his parent's lake house. Seeing him shirtless was already much of a shock, but seeing him fully naked? That is a whole other story.
You feel your cheeks blushing and you need to look away before Hyunjin catches you staring, but it is already too late. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, forcing yourself to keep contact with his eyes rather somewhere else.
Hyunjin licks his lips, and he does so in such a swift movement that it barely registers in your mind. But it does, and you can't stop thinking how attractive he is, and how awfully aroused he is making you feel. It's like your body has a mind of its own, one that's completely enticed by him.
“C’me here,” he kneels in the bed again, hovering your body. His erection pressed against your lower abdomen once again, and you let out an unexpected, almost embarrassing moan just by that alone.
He is hard, and his dick feels warm. You can't help but sneak a hand between your bodies and wrap it around him, making him curse under his breath.
It's the first time you see (in real life, anyway) and touch a dick; you're not sure what you were expecting, but the feeling of it isn't bad. However, it isn’t as nice as the sight of Hyunjin's eyes closed shut, and his bottom lip caught between his lips.
“If you touch me again, I'm going to come,” he warns you.
“And isn’t that what you want?” You ask, stroking him softly. You’re barely discovering how to touch him, but there’s something pleasant about the way you’re exploring him.
“Not before fucking you,” Hyunjin tells you, “I have to make you feel good again”.
He straightens his body slightly and puts a condom on. It is tight around the base, and too slippery for his own liking, but he can't complain about it when you're patiently waiting for him. 
Your eyes never abandon his figure, and just the sight of him unwrapping a fucking condom and putting it on is more than enough to make you clench around thin air. And you're too lost in that thought, of how strikingly beautiful Hyunjin looks tonight, that you don't feel any sort of panic until the tip of his dick slides against your slit.
This is really happening, you think to yourself, and suddenly all the oxygen from the room has vanished, leaving you with a heavy chest and an awful sensation that you're choking.
“You okay?” He asks when he catches a glimpse of your furrowed eyebrows.
“Just nervous,” your eyes dart between his face and the parts of your bodies where you almost meet. You've heard awful stories about first times, involving a lot of pain and discomfort; why would yours be any different than those?
You feel your heart beating in anticipation, and your throat gets dry.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to kiss you, “I’ll be careful”. 
You nod, because you know he is telling the truth. So you brace yourself by holding his biceps, watching as he guides his dick inside of you.
“Inhale,” he tells you, and you follow. Your lungs get filled with fresh air until they hurt, until you no longer can harbor any more oxygen.
And only then, the tip of it slides right in easily, with just the tiniest bit of discomfort —your fingers and toys are not close to the size he is.
“Fuck”. 
“Let it all out,” and you exhale deeply, relaxing underneath him as he finally bottoms out. He stays there, without moving, feeling how your walls adapt to his girth. Hyunjin kisses your cheek, and snuggles his face in the crook of your neck to leave a couple of them there, too, “good job”. 
You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck just as your legs wrap around his hips.
His weight on top of you feels nice, just as it does having him inside of you. But you're desperate to know how he really feels, so you prompt him to move.
“I’ll go slow,” and he sticks to his word. His thrusts are slow, but deep —every time he bottoms out, you moan.
You're just getting used to him, so the way he is fucking you is more than enough for now. And it is enough for him, too —if he goes any faster, he is sure he will come.
But he maintains a certain pace, and your bodies get to meet each other in a way they hadn't before. 
“Does it feel good?” You ask him in a murmur, and he hums in response.
“So good,” his eyes never leave yours. “You feel so good, your pussy feels so good”.
You bite your lips, wanting to hold back whatever reaction his words elicit from you. 
There's something lewd about his voice, and the way he says things tonight. There's something lewd in the way you like it, too.
“You feel good too,” you compliment him, caressing the sides of his face. “Want to come again, with you”. 
Hyunjin nods, as if you’re giving him an order for him to follow. But you might as well have, because he takes it upon himself to give you what you want. One of his hands sneak between your sweaty bodies, and albeit difficult, he manages to position the tip of his fingers over your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as his thrusts.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, closing your eyes shut when you feel a pinch of pain from the overstimulation. 
It's crazy how many things Hyunjin has learned about you in the past hour.
“Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” He manages to ask, and you nod frantically.
His hand then withdraws from your clit, and when you're about to protest, you notice his mouth is leaning closer to your chest, “what-”. 
He then latches his tongue around one of your hardened nipples, and you become a mess of whimpers underneath him.
“And this?” Hyunjin asks with his lips attached to the flesh of your breast, “does it feel good when I do this?”
You might as well have figured something about you.
“It feels so good, Hyunjin,” you chant, with teary eyes that threaten to start bawling in ecstasy, “so good, fuck, so good”.
He continues, sucking on your nipple while his fingers tease the other. And you really seem to like it because you can't stop moaning, because all your hands do is to force him even more against your chest. 
“Squeezing me so good,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, losing control of himself as he feels you clenching around him. He's drooling over your breasts, swollen and pink lips dragging across your flesh while his hips start spasming, “God, you’re so fucking tight”.
You sneak a hand between your bodies, and when your digits brush against your clit, you feel your body jolting, and the tension threatening to unravel. 
You're so close, again.
And you hope he is close too.
“I’m-” You don't manage to finish the sentence when Hyunjin's fingers replace yours, “Hyunjin!”
You mean to keep your eyes open, to look at him in between, but you finally give up to the overwhelming pleasure. You close them shut, and all you're left with is the feeling of Hyunjin's body against yours, and the sounds you and him are eliciting from each other. 
“Close?” And you nod frantically, tightening your limbs around him —your arms around his neck, your legs around his lower back. 
You’ve hugged Hyunjin before, but nothing will ever compare to this; to your naked bodies pressing together, to his lips murmuring sweet nothings against yours. 
To share something as intimate as an orgasm can be.
“Coming,” you whisper weakly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. And at the same time, Hyunjin lets out a painful, choked groan.
His throat hurt at it, but not nearly as much as the tension finally unraveling did. 
Not as much as the sight of your hazy eyes looking up at him as you both come down from your highs.
Not as much as the realization that it was all over.
“Hyunjin,” you whimper again, and your loud heartbeats, and the way you're still clenching around him is preventing him from listening to your voice. He sees your lips moving, but he is too far gone in the bliss of his orgasm to care.
“God,” you close your eyes shut and hide your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. 
You don’t want him to let go of you, to pull out. You want to stay like this for as long as you’re able to.
And Hyunjin wants it too, plopping all of his weight carefully on top of you. He presses a kiss to your temple, and then your forehead. Nothing in his life has ever felt this good before, and he fears he might not be able to live a moment like this again.
"Did I hurt you?" He just has to ask again, now that you're settled between his arms.
You shake your head subtly, and look up at him with so much gloss and sentiment he feels a pinch of hope you feel the same way he feels about you. 
"Not once," you exhale, offering the most beautiful smile Hyunjin has seen on you.
And when you press a quick peck to his lips and snuggle right next to him, with your head on his chest and your hand over his abdomen, 
he just knows it will happen again. 
And again.
And again.
And again.
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Bonus note: If you liked this, PLEASE let me know. I'm kind of nervous putting this out there because I've been away for so long, I'm not even sure if this is any good. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. It is nice to connect with past hobbies to be honest.
Love you all! And take care!
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STORM
• jude bellingham x gf!reader
• warnings: none, pure comfort.
• summary: Amid a fierce storm, Jude and his girlfriend, estranged by silence and tension of past arguments, are forced to confront their emotions. In the darkness, a single moment of vulnerability can change everything.
The storm outside was relentless, its furious winds howling through the night, rattling the windows of the bedroom like the sky itself was falling apart. Those kinds of storms didn’t happen occasionally, but weren’t an uncommon phenomenon in Madrid’s Fall weather. Thunder crashed in the distance, sending shivers up Jude’s spine as he lay on his side of the bed, staring blankly at the poor iluminated ceiling. The low rumble of the storm mirrored the storm inside him—the one that had been raging for days now, or maybe weeks, between him and her.
They hadn’t spoken much lately. The silence between them had grown too heavy to bear, but neither had the courage or the lack of pride to break it. What had started as small disagreements had snowballed into something larger, more painful. Jude couldn’t even remember what the first fight had been about—a forgotten plan, a misplaced word, maybe a careless remark. All of them stupid reasons at the end of the day. But now it felt like every conversation turned into a fight, every look shared was strained and every touch avoided.
Tonight was no different. The space between them on the bed felt like an ocean, cold and endless. He could feel her next to him, curled up on her side, her back facing him. The bed dipped slightly under her weight, and yet she felt miles away. They hadn’t kissed goodnight in days. They hadn’t even said “goodnight” in what felt like forever. God he missed her. And she did too.
Jude sighed, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of the rain against the window. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, he could fall asleep and escape this awful silence for a few hours. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow they could talk.
But then he felt it—a small tremor in the bed. At first, he thought he’d imagined it, but then it happened again. He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing in the dark. It was her—she was shaking. Trembling, really. The storm outside grew louder, and with it, so did her tremors. Jude frowned. She had never been good with storms. She was always terrified of them, something about the noise, the unpredictability of it all. She had told him in their third date. It made her anxious, though she rarely admitted it.
He tried to ignore it, focusing again on the sound of the rain, the thunder, anything but the fact that she was scared and trembling right next to him. They hadn’t been talking. They were still angry, weren’t they? He didn’t know if he should do anything, didn’t know if she wanted him to. His heart warred with his pride, that bitter part of him telling him to stay on his side of the bed, to let her deal with it on her own.
But then another shudder ran through her body, more violent this time, and he heard a soft, muffled whimper escape her lips. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.
He couldn't ignore it. He couldn't ignore her.
Finally, with sigh, Jude shifted. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out, his hand hovering just above her back. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if she’d pull away, if the gap between them had grown too wide to bridge. But then another roll of thunder shook the house, and she flinched, a small, involuntary whimper escaping her lips.
That was all it took.
In one smooth motion, Jude moved closer, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. He pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly, as if trying to shield her from the storm raging outside. She stiffened at first, as if surprised by the sudden contact, but then she melted into him, her body sagging against his as though she had been waiting for this, waiting for him to break the barrier between them.
"I´m here," he murmured, his voice soft against the back of her neck. He pulled her tighter, his chest pressed against her trembling back. "I´m right here, okay? I´ve got you."
She didn´t say anything, but her hands reached up, gripping his forearm that was now wrapped around her middle. She held on like she was afraid he might let go, and for a second, Jude felt a lump form in his throat. He could feel her trying to keep it altogether but failing.
"I´m sorry," she whispered suddendly, her voice craking.
Jude blinked in the dark, surprised by her words. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he felt it—a warm, wet drop hitting his arm. She was crying.
"Hey, hey, no, don´t—" His heart twisted, and without thinking, he pulled her even closer, if that was possible, turning her in his arms so she was facing him. She buried her face in his chest, her tears dampening his shirt as she sobbed quietly. He held her tightly, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It´s okay," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head.
Her hand clung to him, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as she cried, the sound of the storm drowned out by the sound of her broken sobs.
"I don´t like fighting with you," she whispered through her tears, her voice muffled against his chest. "I hate it."
Jude swallowed hard, his own throat tight with emotion. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words.
"I hate it too," he admitted quietly. "I hate being like this with you."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The storm outside raged on, but in the quiet of their embrace, it felt like something shifted. Something broke open between them, a dam that had been holding back all the hurt and frustration, and now it was spilling out in the form of tears, in the way he held her like he never wanted to let go.
"I´m sorry too," Jude said, his voice thick. "I don´t want to fight anymore. I just want us to be okay."
She sniffled, nodding against him, her grip on him loosening slightly as her sobs began to subside. Her breathing, though still shaky, started to even out, and Jude felt her body relax a little in his arms. He kept holding her, kept whispering reassurances in her ear, telling her he was there, that he wasn´t going anywhere.
After what felt like and eternity, her sobs quieted to soft sniffles, and she pulled back slightly, just enough to look up to him. Her eyes were red ans swollen for crying, her cheeks wet with tears, but she looked at him with such vulnerability, such raw emotion, that Jude felt like his heart might burst.
"Can we... can we fix this?" she asked, her voice small, uncertain.
Jude looked into her eyes, having her for the first time in weeks just for him. He nodded, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"Of course," he whispered, his voice firm with that accent that she loved. "We will."
She managed a small, soft smile, and it was the most beautiful thing Jude had seen in a long time. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, and for a moment, they just breathed together, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.
The storm outside continued to rage, but she felt safe in his arms, like as if she belonged there. They still had things to talk about, things to work through. But for now, in this moment, they were finally together. And that was enough.
"I love you," Jude said softly, his lips brushing hers as he spoke the words. "I love you so so much...," he continued against her neck making her giggle.
"I love you too, Jude," she whispered back, and then she kissed him—soft, sweet, and filled with a quiet promise that they would be okay.
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pinksturniolo · 21 hours
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Am I Wrong?
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pairing: chris sturniolo x fem reader
warnings: foreplay (sorta) in the car, neck kissing, mentions of alcohol
a/n: this is not part of a new/existing fic, i will not be writing another part, the idea simply popped into my head after i saw their new tiktok lmao enjoy <3
Rain pelted against the windows of the moving car, the air around the two of you thick and almost suffocating from the tension. His lips hadn’t touched your own yet, but they were attached to your neck. His kiss was wet, warm and searing, causing heavy breathing from you as your heart accelerated with the feeling of his tongue on your skin. His large hand splays across your bare thigh, fingers teasing just inches from the hem of your dress, his other arm draped across the back of your seat.
You lean into him more as he buries his face even deeper into your neck and now his breathing is heavier as he practically pants against you, your desperate need for him to be closer as you tug on his tie. Your eyes slip close when his teeth graze you, and a small whimper escapes you as he sucks onto the spot right below your ear, directly under your jaw.
He smirks slightly, enjoying the fact that he’s causing this reaction from you. There’s no denying that he’s just as needy though, his hard cock aching in his suit pants. You’ve barely touched him since you two left the party but the feeling of your warm skin against his mouth and the small, pretty sounds he’s managed to elicit from you has his head spinning.
 He wanted more of you, he needed more. Ever since he saw you in that curve hugging black dress, leaning against the wall in the back corner of the room, lips wrapped around a glass of liquid courage. A warm glint in your eyes but a cold expression on your face, daring someone to approach you. He knew he couldn’t stay away.
In an effort to show him you feel the same and with a surge of confidence, you remove the grip you had on his tie and trail it down the soft fabric of his white dress shirt, unbuttoning the first few buttons to slide your hand inside and over his chest. He sighs against you and lifts his head slightly to momentarily pause his work against your neck of blue and purple marks. His mouth hovers against yours as you exchange breaths.
You want to kiss but the intensity is almost too much as your hands feel his bare chest underneath his wife beater. You can feel how hard his heart is pounding. He grips the side of your dress harshly, making it bunch up around your hip.
Once you move your hand out of his shirt and then down his abdomen, over the clothed hardness in his dress pants, he bucks his hips involuntarily and curses under his breath. He’s so sensitive and his reaction makes your already soaked underwear slicker with your arousal.
You’re suddenly very grateful that there’s a black privacy window in between the back seat and the driver. You’re not sure if it was a luxury Uber Chris had ordered or one of those shiny blacked out Tahoe SUVs that rich people and celebrities got driven around in. You barely even noticed the make of the car when you climbed in, his hand holding yours as you rushed into the backseat, hoping that no curious paparazzi or fans would see you two.
But now the car is rolling to a stop, seemingly arriving at your destination. Rain continues to come down outside, the only sound that can be heard besides the heavy breathing. 
Your hand is still placed on his crotch as he tangles his fingers in your hair and looks down at where you’re touching him. “Okay hear me out.” He takes in a shaky breath as you apply a little more pressure to your touch, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you feel how big he is. Your mind races with thoughts of how it would feel… how it would fit. How he would sound.
“Would I be completely out of line if I was to say you’re gonna come inside with me right now… up to my bedroom and… let you do anything you want to me?” He rasps, looking back up at you, the look in his blue eyes driving you insane.
“Or am I wrong?”
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taglist: <3
(this is my current one, pls lmk if anyone wants to be added or removed bc i haven’t posted in a while and im not sure if it needs to be updated!)
@christhopersturniolo @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturniolopepsi @riasturns @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @eryismum @sturncakez @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @mattscoquette @jnkvivi @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @bambi-slxt @streamermattsgf @mattspolitank
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thewrstinme · 2 days
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“You want to act like a brat? Then I’ll treat you like one.”
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summary. you’d been pissing noah off all night before his performance, taunting him right before he had to go on stage. what you forgot is that the tour bus would be empty for the night, leaving him alone with you to dish out punishments for your behaviour.
TW. 18+ mdni mean!noah. punishment but it’s rlly just smut. brat taming. hair pulling, choking if you squint. aftercare ofc. degrading. lmk if i missed any!
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As soon as the two of you step into the tour bus, the door barely closes behind you before Noah grabs you by the waist, spins you around, and pushes you roughly against the sofa. The suddenness takes your breath away, but the tension that’s been building between you all night finally snaps. His body pins yours down, chest to chest, and his eyes flash with something dark and dangerous.
“Think you’re funny, don’t you?” he growls, his hand already gripping the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Bratty little act all night, teasing me in front of everyone like I wouldn’t do something about it?”
Before you can respond, he forces you down into the cushions, leaning in close so his breath is hot against your ear. His hands roam your body with a kind of restrained violence, fingers gripping hard as he pulls you tighter against him. His lips brush your neck, his voice dripping with mockery.
“You’ve been asking for this, haven’t you?” His hand slides down to your hip, squeezing hard, as he presses himself firmly against you, making sure you can feel every inch of how much you’ve wound him up. “Thought I’d just let it slide? After everything you pulled tonight?”
You open your mouth to retort, but he’s quicker. His hand is suddenly at your throat, not choking but keeping you still as he smirks down at you. “Not so talkative now, are you?” he taunts, his thumb brushing along your jawline before squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. His eyes glint with amusement as he watches you squirm, clearly relishing in the control he has over you.
His lips crash against yours without warning, rough and punishing, like he’s trying to prove a point. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging hard enough to make you whimper. He chuckles darkly against your mouth, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.
“You want to act like a brat? Then I’ll treat you like one.”
Noah’s grip on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to keep you in place as his free hand moves lower, grabbing your waist and pulling your body flush against his. The heat between you is immediate, and you can feel how much restraint he’s been holding back all night. His lips brush yours again, but he pulls back just before you can deepen the kiss, a mocking grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, you want it now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Too bad. You’ll get it when I say so.”
He shifts his weight, pressing you harder into the sofa, his knee wedging between your thighs, making it impossible for you to move. You try to push against him, but he doesn’t budge, his eyes daring you to try again. When you do, his hand tightens its grip on your waist, fingers digging in painfully, and he leans down, lips hovering over your ear.
“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Rubbing up against me backstage, giving me those bratty little looks in front of everyone. You think I wouldn’t notice? Think I wouldn’t do something about it?”
His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down just hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pain mixed with pleasure. You can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips, and that only makes his smirk grow wider.
“See? You like it rough, don’t you? Couldn’t just behave, had to push me.” He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you squirm beneath him. “Now you’re gonna pay for it.”
With one swift motion, Noah yanks your shirt up over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His eyes rake over your body, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. His hand moves from your waist to your chest, fingers curling around the fabric of your bra as he tugs it down roughly, exposing you completely to him.
“Look at you,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “So fucking gorgeous.”
Before you can say anything, his mouth is on you, lips and teeth leaving a trail of bruises down your neck and chest. His touch is anything but gentle, every movement designed to remind you who’s in control. His hand slides up your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he teases the edge of your skirt, but he doesn’t go any further. Not yet.
He pulls back, just enough to look at you again, that wicked smirk still playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. His hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice dark and commanding, “was it worth it? Being a little brat all night? Do you like how this feels?”
You can barely form words, your mind clouded with the heat of the moment, but that’s exactly what he wants. Noah’s grip on you tightens, and he chuckles lowly as he sees the effect he’s having on you.
A small part of you wants to fight back, to prove that you’re not completely at his mercy, but the rest of you is lost to the sensations he’s igniting in your body. His eyes are dark, filled with a hunger that makes your pulse race.
“I asked you a question,” he says, his voice harsh and demanding. He tugs at your hair, forcing your head back, making you look at him. “Answer me.”
“I-I-“
Noah sneers at your stammering response, clearly unimpressed. “Is that all you’ve got?” he mocks, his tone dripping with derision. “A simple question and you can’t even form a proper answer?”
He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your head back further, making you gasp as a sharp jolt of pain courses through you. “Look at you,” he continues, his voice a low growl. “Such a mess when you’re like this. So desperate and needy.”
The heat in his gaze only amplifies your confusion, the thrill of submission battling with your instinct to resist.
“You’re pathetic,” he says, his words biting and cruel. “Can’t even control yourself when I’m around. Pathetic and desperate.” His hand tightens around your hair again, pulling harder, making you whimper at the pain. “You like this, don’t you?” he sneers, his tone rough and dominant. “Being at my mercy, at my command. You never had a chance of resisting.”
The way he looks at you, the intensity in his eyes, makes your heart race, and despite the humiliation, a thrill courses through you. You’re caught in the exhilarating mix of pain and pleasure, knowing he’s right—even if it stings to admit it. He sees the shift in your expression, the reluctant acknowledgment of what he’s saying, and his smirk widens. He chuckles lowly, his fingers tightening in your hair, pulling you closer to him.
Noah’s smirk turns into a condescending sneer as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with mockery. “Look at you, desperate little thing,” he mocks, his voice dripping with scorn. “So needy for me, can’t even control yourself.”
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle the truth?” His laughter is low and mocking, sending a shiver through you. “You’re a mess, and you love every second of it.”
With a rough tug, he pulls your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You think you can hide it? I can see how much you crave this. How much you want to be at my mercy.” His fingers dig deeper into your scalp, and you can’t help but let out another whimper.
“Pathetic,” he repeats, letting the word linger in the air. “You think you’re tough, but look at you now—completely undone.” He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, reveling in your vulnerability. “I bet you’d do anything for just a little more, wouldn’t you?”
You can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with something more intoxicating. The way he’s mocking you only heightens your need, and Noah knows it. He leans closer, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers, “Just admit it—you love being my little brat.”
Each word is a taunt, a reminder of how completely he’s got you wrapped around his finger, and you can’t deny the thrill that comes with it.
As he pulls your head back further, forcing you to look at him directly, you feel a mix of humiliation and excitement coursing through you. His gaze is intense, filled with mockery and disdain, but it only serves to fuel your yearning. You want to resist, to prove that you aren’t as desperate as he thinks, but the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s dominating you, it’s impossible to deny the truth.
Every time he mocks you, every time he calls you pathetic, it cuts through you, but it also ignites a fire inside you that you can’t deny. You’re torn between the desire to fight back and the need to submit, to give him what he wants. “I-I’m not,” you breathe out, trying to sound defiant, but your voice betrays you, quivering with vulnerability.
Noah laughs at your weak attempt to resist, the sound rough and condescending. “Oh, you’re not?” he sneers, his tone dripping with mockery. “Is that right?”
His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling harder, making you gasp and wince from the pain. “You’re not desperate. You’re not needy. You’re not falling apart right now at my mercy.” His voice is laced with derision, mocking your words with sarcasm.
He leans in closer, his lips almost touching your ear, and his voice is a low, taunting whisper. “Pathetic little thing. Can’t even be honest with yourself. Look at you, trying so hard to prove you’re not helpless.”
The way he emphasizes “pathetic” sends a jolt through you, and you find yourself wanting to squirm under his grip. It’s infuriating and intoxicating all at once. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the shame mixing with a thrill that only he can provoke.
“Admit it,” he continues, his voice a seductive growl. “You love being like this. You crave it. You want me to take control.” He releases your hair just enough for you to breathe but keeps you close, his eyes locked onto yours, challenging you to deny it.
Your heart races as the truth hangs heavy in the air, and the fight in you wanes. “Maybe…” you start, but the word barely escapes your lips, filled with uncertainty.
“Maybe?” he scoffs, tilting his head, a condescending grin spreading across his face. “You can do better than that. I want to hear you say it.”
There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you realize he’s not going to let you off easy. The thrill of submission floods through you, and with a shaky breath, you find yourself on the edge of surrender.
You can feel your resistance unraveling, the fight in you slowly giving way to submission. It’s embarrassing, knowing how much power he has over you, and yet you can’t deny the rush it gives you.
“Please,” you say, your voice a shaky whisper, and you can feel the heat of embarrassment on your cheeks. He’s watching you intently, waiting for another response. He wants to hear you say it, to admit how much you need him, but you’re struggling with the words.
He smirks at your response, knowing you’re holding back. “Please, what, doll?” he mocks, his tone condescending and taunting. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
You’re practically trembling with a mix of humiliation and desire. You need to say it, to acknowledge your own neediness, but the words catch in your throat. It’s so shameful, yet the thought of submitting to him, of being completely at his mercy, makes your heart race even faster.
Noah can see the conflict etched on your face, and his smirk only widens. He knows you’re on the verge of admitting it, but he’s not going to make it easy for you. He wants you to crawl, to beg. “Come on, little one,” he mocks, his voice a low and seductive purr. “Say it.”
You’re so torn. You want to resist, to fight back and prove him wrong, but at the same time, you know deep down that you crave this. Need this. The words are on the tip of your tongue, the truth of your submissive nature right there, but it’s still hard to admit aloud. You look at him, the heat in your cheeks making you feel exposed, and a small whimper escapes your lips. “I-I…I want…”
He leans forward, his breath hot on your skin as he mocks you. “You want what?” he eggs you on, his voice rough and commanding. “Come on, use your words. Don’t be shy now. Tell me exactly what you need.”
The heat in your cheeks intensifies, and the shame and excitement mix, creating a potent cocktail that makes your head spin. “I…I need you,” you whisper, the words shaky and laced with embarrassment. “I need you to take control.” The confession hangs in the air, the truth of your submission exposed, and you can feel it in your bones, the way your body responds to his dominance.
Noah's smirk widens as he hears the words he's been waiting for. He sees the mixture of surrender and humiliation in your eyes, and it only fuels his desire for control. He lets out a low, mocking chuckle before pulling you closer. “There it is,” he says, his voice rough and taunting. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?”
You shiver at the tone in his voice, the realization that he has you completely at his mercy. The mixture of emotions swirling inside you is a heady cocktail of shame, excitement, and an undeniable need for more. You can feel the heat of his presence as he pulls you closer, his mockery and mockery only fueling the fire within you.
With a smug smirk, Noah holds you close, almost tenderly, his touch so different from moments before. “Poor thing,” he coos, his voice dripping with mock comfort. “All worked up and needy. Is that what you wanted, princess?”
The gentle tone catches you off guard, his touch sending a shiver through you. “N-no…I didn’t-“ you stutter, but your weak protest is obvious.
“Shhh,” he hushes, still holding you tight. “Don’t lie to me now. We both know the truth.” He lets his hand trail down your back, his touch so gentle and deceivingly comforting.
His eyes are locked on yours, watching your every reaction. He’s playing with you, and you both know it. The way he’s holding you, the touch of his hand against your back, it’s like a cruel game. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, the shame and excitement mixing into a dangerous cocktail.
“I wasn’t-“ you try to protest again, but the words die in your throat as you meet his gaze. He’s watching you, like a predator sizing up its prey, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Noah continues the charade, his voice dripping with false concern. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos, his other hand coming up to caress your face. “You don’t need to lie to me.” He looks at you, his gaze intense, searching. He knows he’s got you, knows you have nowhere to hide. “Just tell me the truth,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Did you do it on purpose?”
The softness of his touch, the way he’s holding you, it’s maddening, drawing you in. You want to deny it, want to push back against the tidal wave of desire and submission that’s washing over you.
“I-“ you start, but the words fail you, caught in the storm of your conflicted emotions. It’s all so confusing, his sweetness and his mockery mixing together in a dangerous, intoxicating cocktail. “Yes…” you eventually force out, your voice a hushed whisper.
Noah's eyes darken, and his grip on you tightens slightly. There it is, the moment he’s been waiting for. He knew you did it on purpose, and now he has you admitting it out loud. “Good girl,” he drawls, his voice suddenly rougher, more commanding. “At least you can admit what a desperate little thing you are.”
The change in his tone hits you like a punch to the stomach. The switch is so sudden, so stark, it takes you completely off guard. You’re still reeling, trying to process the swift shift, but he’s already moving on.
His mockery cuts through you, a cold reminder of your exposed vulnerability. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he mocks, his hand moving down to firmly grip your chin, forcing you to look directly at him. “Needy and shameless, you just had to push me, didn’t you?”
Tears well up in your eyes, your bottom lip quivering as you look up at him with wide, tearful eyes. You feel small and vulnerable under his intense gaze, and the shame and excitement mix in your stomach, creating a powerful mixture of longing and trepidation.
“Oh, look at you,” he purrs, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “All big eyes and teary. But don’t think you’re going to get off easy just because you look pretty when you cry."
His eyes dark and dangerous, he leans in closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours. “You teased me back there, made me all worked up, and then you lied to me about it. Did you think I was just going to let you get away with that?”
"P-please...I'm sorry...I didn't...I won't do it again...I-“ You're a mess of blubbery whines and stuttered apologies, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. It's humiliating, being so small and defenseless under his gaze, and yet you can't deny the submissive thrill of it all.
He holds you tight, his hand still on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. There’s a smirk on his face, a look of victory, as he mock-comforts you. “There, there, little one,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “I know you didn’t mean it. You’re just a needy little thing, aren’t you?”
The way he’s talking to you, coddling you like a child, it’s infuriating but it only makes the heat in your stomach burn hotter. You want to protest, to defend yourself, but the tears and blubbering make you weaker than ever, and you know he’s enjoying every minute of it.
“Oh, sweet girl, don’t cry,” he mocks, his voice deceptively gentle. “But maybe I should teach you a lesson. Wouldn’t that be fair, to show you what happens when you tease me like that?”
The threat in those words sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement twisting in your gut. You’re too vulnerable like this, and you know he’s going to exploit it to the fullest.
“Is that what you want, doll?” he coos, his fingers loosening their grip just enough to let a tear slide down your cheek. “You want me to show you what happens when you drive me crazy like that, when you push and push until I snap?”
You whimper lowly, unable to form a coherent response as you blink up at him through a haze of tears. Maybe you do want it, crave it even, the thought of being completely at his mercy both terrifying and thrilling.
His smirk widens at your helpless response, the realization that he has you completely under his sway. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his voice now deeper, darker. “You’re just begging for someone to put you in your place, aren’t you, pretty little thing?”
The condescension in his tone only serves to make you weaker, and you let out a soft, pathetic whine, your body trembling under his gaze. “I’ll be good, I swear,” you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. He chuckles darkly, his eyes boring into yours. “Oh, I know you will be,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “But it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”
With an effortless display of strength, he pushes you back against the sofa, pinning you in place with his body. His hand leaves your chin to trail down your throat, his touch like a caress and a threat all at once. “I told you not to tease me,” he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin. “But you just had to do it, didn’t you? Had to test my patience, to see how far you could push me.”
You're a mess, a whiny blabbering mess, and you struggle to control the sounds of helplessness that leave your mouth. The words "I'm sorry" and "please" and "I didn't mean to" mix with pathetic sobs and moans, each one more pitiful than the last. You can't even look up at him, so you just keep repeating those words, desperate to make him see that you regret disobeying him. The tears won’t stop, and the shame of your behavior, the pleading and begging, only makes them stream faster. You’re completely at his mercy, a vulnerable, fragile thing that he can mold however he sees fit. It’s mortifying, and yet somehow exciting, the knowledge that he has this power over you, that he can bring you to this point of surrender.
"Don’t cry, doll," he murmurs, his hand moving back to your chin to force you to look up at him. "Just listen. Just take it like a good girl." His voice is rough, not quite mocking or gentle. It’s something else, something possessive and dominant, that makes your stomach twist in knots. “You brought this on yourself,” he continues, his gaze intense. “You had to push and push until I couldn’t take it anymore. I warned you, didn’t I?”
You nod helplessly, the tears still falling, your voice reduced to little more than a broken whisper. "I-I'm sorry," you repeat, your words punctuated by sniffles. You're completely overwhelmed, the mixture of shame and desire leaving you a shaking, blabbering mess.
His hand tightens on your chin, his gaze narrowing. He enjoys seeing you like this, so low and vulnerable, reduced to a puddle of tears and apologies. “I know you’re sorry,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “But I’m not sure it’s enough, pretty girl. I think you need a bit more of a lesson.”
Your eyes widen at his words, the realization that he’s not going to let this go, that he’s going to push you further than you’ve ever gone before. You open your mouth to speak, more apologies on your lips, but he cuts you off, his grip on your chin tightening.
“Shhh,” he hisses, his voice mocking and cruel. “No more excuses. You’ve already begged enough, angel. Take it like a good little girl.”
The humiliation is overwhelming, the way he’s holding you, the condescension in his voice. “Please…” you whimper, the word escaping before you can stop it. “I can’t…I’m sorry…”
He scoffs at your plea, his grip on your chin growing tighter. “I don’t care,” he snaps, his voice cold and dismissive. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be pushed, to be broken down until you’re a whimpering mess under my hands?” You nod helplessly, unable to deny the truth of his words. You had wanted this, craved it even, and now you’re getting your lesson, whether you’re ready or not. He smirks, satisfied with your response. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his tone cruel. “Now be a good little girl and take it.”
Your words are caught in your throat, but you can only nod again, your body trembling with a mixture of shame and desire. You know he’s not going to stop, that he’s going to push you to your limits and then some.
His hand moves from your chin to your hip, his fingers finding the edge of your skirt. He tugs at it teasingly, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “No panties, huh? Dirty girl. You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” His hand moves around to your behind, squeezing it roughly before he slips his fingers under the hem, touching your bare skin.
“No wonder you’ve been so needy and pathetic, doll. You’ve been waiting for hours for this, just hoping I’d pin you down and give you what you need, yeah? But you had to push my buttons and misbehave, didn’t you?”
His voice is firm, his fingers still digging into your flesh. “You couldn’t just wait like a good little girl. No, you had to be bad, pushing and pushing until I finally snap.”
The feeling of his hand on your bare skin makes you shiver, and a pathetic whine leaves your lips as the tears continue to fall. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice weak and broken. “I didn’t mean to…sorry, please I didn’t, I’m sorry.”
He silences you with one look, his fingers gripping your chin again. “I told you to stop apologizing,” he snaps, his tone harsh. “You’re not going to sweet-talk your way out of this one, little one.” The command in his voice makes you weak, the fear and shame mixing with the longing in your stomach.
You nod as best you can, trying to communicate your understanding through the tears. “Please,” you whisper, so soft it’s not even a word, more like a pitiful whine. His grip on your chin tightens, his eyes narrowing. “What was that?” he says, his voice soft and dangerous. “Speak up, angel, unless you want me to punish you for mouthing off too.”
You shake your head wordlessly, your eyes wide and pleading, begging him to understand that you only want to please him. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, your voice weak but sincere. “Please, I’ll be quiet.”
He sighs, the sound both annoyed and exasperated. Your pleas and apologies are irritating him, and he’s done with the tears and blubbering. “Enough,” he barks, his fingers releasing your chin. “Bend over. Now. Against the sofa.”
The command is sharp and authoritative, and you know better than to disobey. You shuffle around awkwardly, your heart racing as you bend forward, your hands gripping the back of the sofa. The position feels vulnerable, exposing, and your back is arching in anticipation.
“That’s it, doll,” Noah says, his voice gruff. “Good girl. Stay right there. Keep that pretty little ass up for me.” You hear him moving behind you, the sound of rustling fabric and something clinking. The sound of his belt undoing is unmistakable, the leather sliding through the loops with a harsh sound. It makes you shiver, fear and excitement coiling in your stomach.
His hand smooths over your back, caressing the curve of your behind before he smacks it lightly, a warning and a tease all at once. “Be good for me,” he says, his voice a dark rumble. “Stay just like that.” You nod, unable to speak, and brace yourself for what’s to come, the mixture of emotions swirling inside you. The anticipation hangs in the air like a thick fog, every nerve in your body alive and on edge.
His hand leaves your skin, and you can only imagine what he’s doing behind you, the sound of the leather of his belt moving the only hint of his actions. Then you feel his hand on your thigh, gripping you, positioning you exactly how he wants. “You know how this works,” he murmurs, his voice laced with warning. “You push, I push back harder. You misbehave, you get punished. You get that, doll?” You nod again, your head resting against the sofa cushion, the fabric cool against your heated skin. “Yes,” you manage to whisper, the shame and humiliation mixing with the excitement coursing through you. “I understand.”
“Good girl,” he says, his hand moving higher up your thigh. “And you remember your safe words?” You nod weakly. “Yes,” you reply, your voice shaky. “Red to stop, yellow to pause, green to go.”
He hums in approval, his fingers toying with the edge of your skirt, slowly lifting it up, exposing more of your skin. “Good girl,” he repeats, his voice a low praise. “You’re going to need them. Now close your eyes.” You blink in surprise at the words, but you obey, closing your eyes tightly, the world going dark. The lack of sight makes everything more heightened, the anticipation building, your breathing fast and ragged.
The silence is filled with the sound of your own breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional thump of something being dropped onto the floor. You’re painfully aware of his presence behind you, the heat rolling off him in waves. Then you feel it, the cold leather of his belt running along your thighs, tracing a path up and down, teasing but not touching where you want it to. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, your body thrumming like a wire about to snap. “Please…” you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.
You hear him tsk behind you, the sound of disapproval. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, angel.” His hand lands on your hip, squeezing it roughly, a silent command to be quiet. “You’ll get what you need when I say so, doll,” he growls, his voice taking on that authoritative tone again. “Be patient.”
The touch of the belt disappears, and you wait in tense silence, wondering what he’s going to do next. Then you feel it, a hard smack on your behind, the sensation sharp and unexpected. The pain stings, and you whimper, the sound coming out before you can stop it. “Shhh,” Noah says, his tone harsh. “Just take what I give you.”
“And keep. Those. Eyes. Closed.” The command is punctuated with another smack, harder this time, and the sting spreads across your skin. “Colour.”
“G-green,” you manage to stutter out, the word a gasp. “Good,” he says, his hand caressing where he spanked you. “Good girl,” he says, the praise sending a shiver down your spine. “Now you’re being such a good little thing.” His fingers trail up your legs, his touch light and teasing. “You can take more, princess. You’ll take as much as I give you.”
The words send a wave of pleasure mixed with fear through you, the duality of the moment making your head spin. You press your face into the fabric of the sofa, trying to stay still, to be good, to take what you’re given. “Y-yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “Yes, what?” he asks, his voice sharp. There’s a pause, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air, the only sound your ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart. “Say it proper, doll.”“Y-yes, sir,” you manage to say, your voice meek and submissive. “I’ll take what you give me, sir. I’ll be good, I’ll take it all.”
“Look at you.” His voice is a rough rumble, edged with mockery and condescension. “Already completely submitting after a couple of spanks, and I haven’t even touched you where it counts. Such a pathetic little girl, willing to take whatever I give you, desperate for anything I’ll give you.” He moves closer to you, the heat of his body almost touching your own. His hand tangles in your hair, tugging at it roughly, pulling your head back to look up at him. “Just a little brat, so easy to put in her place.”
“Is that all it takes, princess?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “Some harsh words and a few spanks and you’re just ready to give me everything, huh?” You nod as best you can, your hair still clenched in his grip. “Y-yes,” you gasp out, your voice low and shaky. “I’ll give you anything, sir,” you whisper, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “Anything, huh?” he says, his grip tightening in your hair. “That’s quite a claim, pretty girl. Are you sure you can follow through?”
“Yes sir,” you gasp out, the pain in your hair mixing with the pleasure and shame. “I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you say. Please,” you add, your voice pleading. A cruel laugh tears from his throat, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He’s enjoying your submission too much, relishing in his control over you. “Anything I say, huh?” He hums, the sound condescending. “That’s a dangerous promise, little one.” His hold on your hair tightens, pulling you even further back. You can see the smug look on his face, his eyes looking down at you. “Are you sure you can handle it, doll?” he purrs. “You’re not going to break on me, are you?” He mocks you with his tone, the words dripping with mockery. “Answer me,” he snaps, giving your hair a sharp tug.
“I …I won’t break.” You manage to gasp out, though your voice is small, shaky. You feel like you’re drowning, completely at his mercy, his control over you absolute.
“We’ll see about that,” he says, his tone dark, still laced with mockery. “You’re going to take everything I give you, just like you promised, right?” His hand lets go of your hair, and for a moment, you’re left feeling lost, abandoned. Then he gently pushes you forward, your bare skin against the cool leather of the sofa. “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he commands.
You keep your body braced on the sofa, your cheek pressed into the fabric. You can hear him moving behind you, the sound of his boots moving across the floor. Your heart pounds in your chest, the anticipation and fear building. Then he’s back, his presence behind you stronger than before. There’s a moment of silence that is almost unbearable, the tension in the air heavy and thick. Finally, he speaks, his voice coming from above you. “Lift your hips up,” he says, his tone a command. You obey, lifting your hips up as best as you can. The fabric of your skirt bunches up around your waist, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. You feel vulnerable, exposed, and helpless.
You hear him draw in a sharp breath, the sound sending a jolt through you. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Look at you, so eager and desperate.”
“Such a needy little thing,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “So willing to do anything I say, just to get my attention.” His hand comes down on your skin, a hard smack that leaves a burning trail behind. “Isn’t that right?” he adds, his tone sharp. “So desperate to be good, so eager to please.”
“Yes sir,” you gasp, the words coming out in a ragged breath. “I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you say. Please,” you add, the word falling from your lips before you can think about it. He raises an eyebrow, the action condescending and mocking. “Big statement for a little brat,” he murmurs, the words a challenge. “Let’s see if you can live up to it.”
He pauses, the silence stretching out between you. You can feel his eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail, every flaw. “Because I have a feeling,” he continues, his tone low and dangerous. “That you’re all talk, and no action.”
He moves behind you, the sound of him removing his clothes the only thing echoing through the space. His hands are gentle on your skin, the action almost a contradiction to his rough demeanor. “Lift your hips up a bit more for me, doll” he instructs, his voice a gentle command.
You obey, raising your hips higher as he positions himself behind you. There’s a rustling sound as he reaches for something, a moment of silence before you feel the cool touch of lube on your skin. It’s a gentle sensation, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words. He slicks his fingers, the motion firm and purposeful. The whole situation is a strange mix of gentleness and control, a constant reminder of who’s in charge. “Shhh,” he says, his tone soft for a change. “Just a bit of cold, doll.”
The words are a comfort, a slight reprieve from his harsh tone before. You let out a soft whimper, your body tense under his touch. Your hands clutch at the sofa cushion, the fabric bunched in your grip. “Just relax for me, okay?” he adds, his voice gentle but still holding that hint of command. “I’m just getting you ready, princess.”
His slick fingers against your core are both soothing and arousing, a contrast that makes your head spin. “Fuck, baby, so wet for me. You been thinking of this while I was on stage?” You press your face into the fabric, biting your lip to keep from making a sound. The feeling of anticipation coiled tight in your belly, the knowledge of what’s coming next both exciting and terrifying.
He takes his time, gently preparing you with a care and precision that’s surprising given his earlier attitude. “You’re doing so well, my doll,” he murmured, the praise wrapping around you like a blanket. “Being so good for me, letting me take care of you.” His words are gentle, but the control in his tone is undeniable.
After a little more prep, you feel him withdraw his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. There’s a moment of silence, and you’re not sure what to expect. Then he speaks, his tone suddenly rough and commanding once more. “You’re ready for me now, pretty girl,” he grunts. “Just the way I want you.” The words are a stark reminder of who’s in charge, his hand grabbing your hips roughly and pulling you back towards him.
His grip is tight, holding you in place, as if you were an object to be used for his pleasure. “Been waiting for this,” he growls. “Been waiting to feel you around me. So desperate and needy, aren't you?” There’s a possessive edge to his tone now, the gentleness from before vanishing completely. His body is pressed close against your own, the heat of him burning through your skin.
He pauses for a moment, the heat of his breath against your skin your only warning before he speaks again. “Gonna take what’s mine” he growls, the words thick with desire. “This pretty little pussy belongs to me.” You can’t hold back the soft whimper that escapes you, your back arching almost unconsciously, your body needy and ready. You’re lost in a sea of sensation, every nerve ending on edge.
You claw at the sofa to find something to hold onto, a lifeline to tether you to reality. But it's all becoming a blur, his presence behind you taking up your entire focus. “Such a pretty little sound,” he murmurs, the words a harsh contrast to his gentle tone before. “Like music to my ears.”
You’re pressing back against him, desperate for friction, your body desperate for any touch he’ll give you. “So impatient,” he chuckles, the sound deep and rough. “Impatient little doll, so needy for me.”
“Just can’t wait, can you?” he adds, the words a taunt, a challenge. “No, I thought not.”
“No, you just need to be taken care of, don’t you?” he continues, the words sharp and mocking. “Just need something to fill you up, don’t you, doll?”
He chuckles, the sound low and guttural against your skin as his lips brush your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re always so desperate for my attention, it’s pathetic. But I suppose I can’t blame you for that.”
His hand slides up your thigh, his palm warm and rough against your skin. “You do look your best when you’re begging. I’ll give you that.”
You whimper, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a series of garbled, incoherent sounds. Your brain is mush, all thoughts of bratting or teasing gone as you cling to him, your body arching into his touch.
He notices your inability to form a complete sentence, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Looks like I broke you. Can’t even string a sentence together anymore, can you?” His fingers find the edge of your skirt, slowly sliding it higher up your thighs, his other hand still on your neck, keeping you in place. “Poor thing. That’s what happens when you make me wait all night.”
His hand taps your thigh, a firm but not unkind command. “Leg up,” he instructs, his voice stern and expectant. It’s an unmistakeable order, one you know not to ignore. With a small, whimpering sound escaping your lips, you obey, lifting your leg and draping it over the arm of the sofa, exposed and vulnerable.
Your words come out as a whiny, desperate plea, a jumble of sounds that are barely coherent. “Please-” you manage to get out, your voice trembling. His hand has moved up your thigh, now so close to where you need him the most, and you’re keenly aware of how exposed and vulnerable you are in this position. “Please-“ you repeat, hoping he takes pity on you and gives you some relief.
He hums softly, his eyes fixed on you, a dark amusement dancing behind them. “Please what?” he asks, his voice dripping with mockery. “Use your words, doll.”
Your words are pleading, the tone of your voice making it clear how desperate you’ve become. You whine and blabber, your brain completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence. “Need you in me, please,” you finally manage to speak.
The smirk on his face widens as he hears your desperate plea, the edge of mockery and condescension in his tone making it perfectly clear that he’s enjoying this. “Need me in you, do you?” he repeats, the words hanging in the air for a moment before he continues. “How badly do you need it, then? Can you tell me that?”
Your throat feels tight as you try to respond, your brain so overwhelmed that speaking seems like a struggle. “Please,” you repeat again, the word pleading and raw. “So badly, I need-“ you cut yourself off, unable to fully articulate the depths of your need right now.
He lets out a low, amused sound, clearly relishing in the power he has over you right now. “What a desperate mess you are,” he murmur. A wicked, satisfied smirk plays across his lips as he finally gives in, his hand gently caressing your inner thigh as he hums in mock contemplation. “I suppose I should give you what you want,” he says, his tone still dripping with condescension. “Since you asked so nicely."
You’re a complete mess, your body shuddering and tense, your words a jumble of desperate pleas and whimpers. Your hands clutch tightly at the sofa, your knuckles white as you try to ground yourself. Your eyes are pleading, and you’re whimpering and whining, the need inside of you growing more intense with every passing second. He pushes you back, the movement firm and assured. You feel his body heat against yours as he positions himself on top of you, his hands grabbing your hips to hold you in place. He’s dominant and in control, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and satisfaction.
“You gonna behave now?” he husks, his voice a low, growling sound, as he pushes you even further into the sofa, your body pinned and at his mercy. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his smirk growing as he notices your nod and the way you’re whining. “You’ve finally learned your lesson, huh? Finally learned not to tease me and act like a fuckin’ brat?”
His hands grip your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he slowly pushes into you, the feeling overwhelming and satisfying, the air leaving your lungs in a rush. You hear his voice through the haze of pleasure, barely distinguishable past the buzzing in your ears. “That’s it,” he groans out. You whine and whimper, clinging to him, unable to form a coherent thought or sentence. “Yes, please, yes,” you manage to get out.
You feel completely unraveled, your body trembling and sensitive to every touch and movement. He’s relentless, each thrust rough and commanding as he takes what he wants. You struggle to hold on, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost too much to bear, your body writhing under his hands, each motion drawing cries from your lips.
“Noahhh!” His name on your lips like a chant, a prayer, a plea, sends a jolt through him, a low curse leaving his mouth as he thrusts harder into you, his fingers holding your hips so tight it feels like you’ll fall if he lets go.
His movements grow rougher in response to your reaction, the need for control seeping through his actions. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he demands, “Colour. Now, princess.” The authoritative tone in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, the demand clear and uncompromising. “Give me a colour, baby, talk to me,” he repeats, his words a command that demands an immediate answer.
You struggle for a moment, your brain so clouded with pleasure that forming a coherent response feels like an impossible task. But finally, you manage to gasp out, “G- green.”
He hums, satisfied by your answer, the grip on your hips loosening just a little as he slowly eases back, his movements still assertive and powerful but with a hint of tenderness. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Such a needy little thing,” he coos mockingly.
The sound of your safe word seems to unleash something in him, a primal and dominant side taking over. He pushes you further into the sofa, his movements rougher and more demanding as he takes what he wants. The mockery in his voice is even more apparent now, as he mutters, “Can’t believe how needy and desperate you are for me. Just begging for me to take you like this, huh?”
His hands roam your body, grabbing and pulling, his fingers digging into your skin as he pins you down more firmly. “Look at you, a complete mess under me. Did you think I was just gonna let you get away with your little act all night?”
Your hands scramble for purchase, grasping and clawing at anything you can reach. They cling to his thighs, then the sofa, then his upper body, trying to find some grounding as your body goes completely limp in his arms. Your whimpers and moans are constant, a incoherent string of sounds that seem to urge him on even further.
Your body trembles and writhes under his touch, completely undone and at his mercy. You're not sure how long you can last, but you're sure he's not planning on making it easy for you. He continues to push you to the brink, each movement calculated to drive you to the edge of madness. The intensity is overwhelming, the sensations and feelings almost too much to bear. And through it all, the mockery in his voice never fades.
His hand moves up to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make the pressure building in your core even more intense. “Going to break you for this, you know that?” he mutters, his voice gruff and low, nipping at your ear. “You won’t misbehave next time, will you?”
You shake your head vigorously, unable to form a coherent response, the sound that leaves your mouth sounding more like a plea than anything else. “That’s what I thought,” he responds, a smugness creeping into his tone as he continues to drive you further and further towards the edge. “Just gonna let me take you apart and put you back together, over and over again, is that right?”
His hand tightens ever so slightly around your throat, his other hand moving back down to grip your hips again, holding you in place as he continues to take you mercilessly. Your body is so sensitive, every touch and movement feels like an electric shock, sending tremors through your entire form as you cling to him.
It’s so much, it’s too much, and you’re sure you won’t last much longer, but you’re trapped and completely powerless in his grip, his control over you absolute. “Please-” you manage to gasp out, the word catching in your throat as your body trembles even more. “I-”
You can’t finish your sentence, the words cut off by a whimper as his movement increases, the overwhelming sensation building like a tidal wave. He groans at the sound of your whimper, the pleading word cutting through the haze of ecstasy he’s experiencing. He goes faster, his breathing ragged and his muscles taut with exertion. “I know,” he responds, his voice ragged and strained. “I know, I’ve got you."
“Not going to slow down, not gonna be gentle with you,” he hisses, the words edged with mockery. “This is what you get for being such a tease all night, huh? You love playing games, but you aren’t so good at handling the consequences, are you?”
Each word cuts through the haze of pleasure, a stark reminder of the control he has over you right now. “You’ll remember this the next time you decide to act up,” he continues, his voice low and rough. “You understand?” Your body trembles, overwhelmed and oversensitive under his touch, the words adding an extra layer of intensity to the heat already building within you. “Y-yes,” you manage to gasp out, your breath coming in short, ragged pants.
“That’s right, you do,” he responds, satisfaction seeping into his tone. “You’re gonna learn your lesson pretty quick like this, aren’t you, baby?” Your head spins, the relentless pace of his movements and the words he’s muttering driving you closer to the edge with every passing moment. It’s too much, it’s overwhelming, and you’re not sure how much more you can take. “Please-“ you manage to gasp out, the word catching in your throat as your body trembles even more. Your vision becomes fuzzy at the edges, your senses heightened to an almost painful intensity.
“Please what?” he demands, mockery seeping into his tone once again. “You think you deserve to finish after acting like that all night? After misbehaving and being a tease?” It's clear he's enjoying this, revelling in your desperation, your need for release. His eyes burn into yours as he continues to push you to the limits, his smile both sweet and sadistic in equal measure. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, doll,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. “Think you need a little more convincing.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, the warning clear and present, but you're helpless to do anything other than cling to him, surrendering to the sensations and the dominant grip he has over you. "You're such a sight like this," he hisses out, his tone a mix of mockery and amusement. "So needy and desperate for me, begging and whimpering. Makes me wonder why you bother putting up a fight. You clearly like this way better." His words are both a taunt and an affirmation, a confirmation of the power he holds over you right now. You can feel his control in every touch and movement, every word and command, and it only serves to make you more overwhelmed and desperate for release.
"Fuck," he curses lowly, his voice tight and strained. "You feel so good like this, so tight. Like heaven.” His grip on you tightens, holding you in a position where you can't move, completely at his mercy. "Can't get enough of this, can you? Don't you remember the last time I made you wait like this, huh? You remember how desperate you were for me?"
You can barely think, your mind a mess of sensation and need, the only sound you can manage is a string of incoherent words and moans. You're a complete mess, a whiny, trembling bundle of desire, your body completely at his mercy. Your mind has turned to mush, your only focus on the intense pleasure and the man holding you captive in his arms. You're beyond coherent thought, your body completely taken over by pleasure and sensation.
The only words you can manage are broken, incoherent moans, your mind consumed by the overwhelming feeling of being at his mercy, completely at his control. You're a trembling, needy mess, a helpless victim to the pleasure he's wringing out of you with every movement and touch. You're completely overwhelmed by the power he has over you, and you're not sure how much more you can take. “Fuck, this pretty little pussy is all mine. So fuckin’ tight for me.” There's no room for doubt or question in his tone, only a certainty that you belong to him, completely and utterly. His hand tightens around your throat, a reminder of his power and control over you.
“Gonna cum-“ I whine, unable to speak a coherent sentence properly. He smirks at your struggle to form words, enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Yeah, you gonna cum for me, doll?" he mutters, his words a taunt and a demand. "You'll cum when I say. And not a moment before." His hand tightens around your throat, his grip a reminder of the control he has over you. "You understand?"
Your voice is wrecked, your response no more than a broken whimper, but you manage to nod, the submission clear in your expression.
He smiles at your acknowledgment, clearly satisfied with your obedience. "Good girl," he purrs, his tone both praise and condescension. His hand shifts from your throat to your hair, tangling in the strands and pulling your head back with a firm, commanding grip. The tug is sharp and sudden, eliciting a gasp from your lips as your head snaps back, exposing your neck to his gaze.
You're a mess, a trembling, whimpering thing, tears streaming down your face, pleading for release. Your words are a jumble, an incoherent babble of desperate pleas and need. "Please," you gasp, choked out in between ragged breaths. "Please, I can't- I need-" It's all you can get out, the rest of your words lost in the haze of pleasure and need. Your voice is raw and hoarse, your body a quivering mess in his arms. Your face is streaked with tears, your eyes pleading as you look up at him, fully at his mercy. "Please," you implore again, the word a broken whisper. You're past the point of embarrassment or pride, past the point of coherency. All you can think about, all you need, is release, and you're completely reliant on him to get you there.
Your body twitches and trembles under his touch, oversensitive and hypersensitive all at once. You're utterly wrecked, a complete mess of need and desire. Your pleas have dissolved into incoherent whimpers and gasps, the only word you're able to form is a broken, desperate "Please." There's no trace of the confident, fiery woman you normally are. You're broken down, a trembling mess under his touch, completely reduced to a state of raw need and vulnerability.
He grins at the sight of you, completely unraveled before him. "Look at you," he murmurs, his tone both mocking and affectionate. "You're a mess, princess. All worked up and begging for me, huh? You're adorable." He smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Needy little thing," he mutters, his tone still holding that hint of mockery. "Begging me so pretty.” There's a gentleness in his words, a hint of endearment amidst the mockery. It's a reminder that he enjoys having this power over you, relishes in the fact that he can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words and touches.
You're writhing and wriggling against him, your body quivering with barely contained need. You clench and tighten, desperate for release, your voice reduced to a needy whine. "Please-" you gasp out again, your tone pleading and desperate. "I can't take it, I can't-"
"Cum for me, pretty girl," he purrs, his voice both gentle and commanding. "Let go for me. I've got you." His tone is soothing, reassuring, despite the demand in his words. He knows you're at your limit, and he's going to push you over the edge, but he'll be there to catch you.
With a final few words of praise and encouragement from him, the tension that's built between you finally reaches its peak, and you come undone. Your body tenses, every muscle tight as the wave of pleasure washes over you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You're a trembling, gasping mess in his arms, held up by him as you ride out the waves of pleasure that crash over you, and slowly, as the pleasure subsides, you collapse against him, boneless and exhausted, completely spent. His arms wrap around your body, holding you close, a mixture of satisfaction and endearment etched in his expression.
His demeanor shifts instantly, the dominating, commanding persona fading away to reveal the softer, gentler version of himself that you know so well. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you with a tenderness that's a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before. “Colour, baby? How are you feeling?" he asks quietly, his voice filled with concern and affection. His fingers run gently through your hair, a soothing gesture as he checks in on you, ensuring that you're okay and that he hasn't pushed your limits too far. There's a hint of self-reproach in his tone, a silent apology for any moment when he might have been too rough or demanding.
You manage a small, exhausted smile, the aftermath of the intense pleasure still lingering. "Green," you assure him softly, your voice hoarse but steady. "So green, baby." His shoulders sag slightly in relief, the tension that had subconsciously built up in his body releasing at your reassurance. He pulls you closer, rubbing a hand along your back in a comforting, gentle motion. "Good girl," he murmurs, his tone filled with praise and affection. "You did so good, you were so perfect. I'm proud of you." The words come easily, a natural response to your submission and obedience. He's still in caretaker mode, his concern for your wellbeing trumping any remnants of the authoritative persona he had moments before.
He lifts you up gently, your body still weakened and trembling in his arms. With a soft, caring demeanor, he sets you down on the couch, a thoughtful gesture to prevent you from exerting yourself. “Just relax, baby," he soothes, his tone gentle and affectionate. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up, okay?"
He disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a damp towel. He sits down beside you, his touch soft and tender as he begins to gently clean up the residue of your intimate encounter. He moves between your legs, the gentle touch of the towel against your skin a soothing contrast to the previous intensity. You're boneless, barely able to move, your head falling back against the couch as you struggle to catch your breath.
His gaze is filled with affection and care as he cleans you with gentle, steady movements. Every now and then, he pauses to press a soft kiss to your skin, offering words of praise and reassurance in his quiet, comforting tone. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his words soft and sincere. "So good for me, princess. Always so good for me." He's careful in his movements, his touch gentle and slow so as not to overstimulate you. His focus is on caring for you, attending to your needs and reassuring you with his touch and words.
Once he's finished, he discards the towel and returns his attention to you, shifting to sit beside you on the couch. He pulls your weary body into his arms, cradling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you, enveloping you in a protective embrace. You feel yourself yawn, exhaustion settling into your bones now that the adrenaline has faded. You snuggle closer to his chest, your body a perfect fit against his. He smiles at the sight, gently maneuvering you into his lap, cradling you against him with a protective, loving grip.
He lets a few moments pass in comfortable silence while he absentmindedly strokes your hair. Then, with a soft chuckle, he speaks up, his tone filled with affectionate sarcasm. “You learn your lesson about teasing me yet, princess?" You roll your eyes, giving him a light elbow in the side. "Oh yeah, I'm a changed woman," you reply sarcastically, a playful smirk on your lips. He laughs, enjoying your playful banter. "Yeah, right," he retorts, raising an eyebrow at you. "You're still a brat, sweet girl." His tone is affectionate, laced with a hint of mock severity. He loves your feistiness, secretly enjoying the way you push his buttons. It's all just a part of your dynamic, an endearing trait that he finds endearing even as he playfully chides you for it.
He presses another soft kiss against your hair, his voice a soothing rumble. "Get some rest, angel," he murmurs, holding you tightly against his chest. "I've got you, just relax."
He continues to stroke your hair, a gentle, repetitive motion that is meant to soothe you into sleep. He stays alert, watching over you as you slowly drift off.
“I love you, princess.”
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taglist @aubrey-melinoe @cainified @krrule1 @ihrtlonghairedboys @somewhere-diamond
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darksigns-exe · 20 hours
Text
crystal clear - noah sebastian x f!reader
warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), more big feelings
word count: 2.7k
masterlist | read pt 1 here | taglist sign-up
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It’s almost midnight by the time you’re done eating and have cleaned everything up again. Noah had made no mention of what had happened just a little while earlier. He’d just moved on as if nothing had changed, while you could feel yourself burning up from the inside out. The spot on your neck where he had left his mark still feels so raw when you brush your fingers against it. You can still feel his hands on your body. 
He slumps down next to you, stretching his legs out across the carpet. 
You don’t know how to move on from this. 
No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you. You’d never be able to uncross this lines – not that you wanted to. 
Noah lets out a yawn, letting his head thump against your shoulder. 
“Mind if I stay here tonight? Don’t wanna drive back.” he mumbles in that faux pouty tone of his. 
“Thought that was the plan?” you reply, bumping your head against his. 
“I didn’t want to assume.” 
He suddenly sounds so hesitant and insecure, and maybe that’s what makes you realise that this is just as daunting for him as it is for you. 
“I was hoping that you’d stay.” you trail off, hoping that he’ll pick up on what you’re alluding to. 
“That so?” Noah sits up, turning to face you, “We should talk first, though.” 
As much as you want to drag him back to you, you know that this conversation needs to happen. And the sooner it happens, the better. 
“I don’t know where to start.” you admit, writhing your hands together. 
He reaches across to take your hands into his, “Neither do I but – I meant what I said earlier. I’ve been trying to find a good moment for this for a while now, but it never felt like the right time. And then you kept telling about how all of these people were just making you feel worse – I had to try, even at the chance that you wouldn’t feel that way for me.” 
You want to reach out and smooth the deep set furrow in his brow, but with him still holding on to your hands, all you can do is squeeze his hands. 
“I’m glad you did.” “So am I.” he replies, scooting a little closer to you, “If you want to I’d like to give this a shot. Take you out on a date and everything.”
“One condition.” 
Maybe you’re pushing it but breaking the tension feels like a good thing right now. 
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
“I want flowers.”
He breaks into a bright smile, “Oh, you’ll get so many flowers. Every day. As many as you want.” 
Within the blink of an eye, you find yourself on your back once again. The sudden movement makes you laugh, which in turn breaks Noah. And when he kisses you this time, it’s all smiles. You thread your fingers into his hair as he trails a soft line of kisses along your neck. 
You’ll never get enough of the softness on his face, the gentle adoration that simmers just below the surface. 
“Let me take you to bed?” he asks so gently that it makes you shiver all over. 
“Please.” you sigh in response. 
You’ve shared a bed with Noah on multiple occasions. He has stayed over at your place so often that he has a small stash of clothes in your dresser. But no matter how often you’ve woken up next to him, it’s all different now. Sitting next to him on top of your bed feels a little new and strange. Noah seems to be just as hesitant as you are. And really, you get it. It’s a big thing. He knows that you haven’t been intimate with anyone before, and you can’t imagine that he’s taking this lightly. 
This time, you’re the one who reaches out first. There’s a slight tremble to his hand when yours wraps around it. 
“We don’t have to do this right now. We can just get comfortable and get to that whenever it happens.” you tell him, hoping that your worry for him isn’t too obvious.
Noah clears his throat, “I just want this to be perfect for you. My first time wasn’t good, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it later, too.” 
The quiet admission stings deep in your chest, “I don’t think I could feel bad about it with you. I know that you’ll take good care of me.” 
There’s a faint little smile on his face, a soft little thing that eases your worries and dampens the sting. 
“I’ll do my best.” he replies, squeezing your hand, “If something feels off please tell me, okay?”
“Noah.” you warn, earning yourself another bright smile from him. 
He eyes you for a long moment, smile still playing on his lips. 
“Think I could kiss you again?” he sounds so adorably sheepish then, and you can’t possibly say no to him.
The kiss that follows is impossibly sweet. Noah’s hand behind your head keeps you close to him, but there’s nothing controlling about this. You soon find yourself on your back, with Noah once again hovering over you. The warm weight of his body comforts the nervous edge in your mind. You know what’s coming, but you know that you’ll be safe and well taken care of with him. 
His hand drifts up the side of your body, slowly working its way under the fabric of your shirt. His palm is warm against your skin, his touch much softer than you had expected. 
“How about we get this off you?” he asks, toying with the hem of your shirt. 
There’s a blip of insecurity in your mind, but it passes as soon as you lift the garment over your head and the breath visibly catches in Noah’s throat. His eyes flicker across your bared chest, unable to settle on a single spot. You’ve never seen him this hesitant as when he reaches out to brush the tips of his fingers against the skin of your tummy. It’s almost as if he’s in disbelief at seeing you like this. 
You reach towards him, almost mirroring his own touch. Noah reacts a little delayed, slowly taking his own shirt off. His breath hitches when your fingers make contact with his skin. 
You don’t quite understand how something that is so very familiar to you, can feel this new. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but drawing the tips of your fingers across the intricate lines that decorate his body gives you an entirely new perspective. Noah lets out a breathy little laugh when you find a particularly sensitive spot. 
“You’re so beautiful.” his voice comes barely above a whisper, disbelief still evident on his features. 
You want to counter his words, tell him that you think the same about him. But the words just won’t come to you. Thankfully, Noah takes your mind off it when he leans down to kiss you once more. From here, his lips make a slow descent along your jaw and neck. You feel teeth grazing across the skin of your collarbones. He soothes barely there sting with a gentle kiss. You sigh when he repeats the motion, one hand weaving into his hair. His lips find the apex of your breasts, placing soft kisses there too. The attention he gives you is maddening. 
He’s so very carefully when he helps you remove the remained of your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He’d stripped down to his briefs at some point, but with the rush of information and sensation, you must have missed when. 
Noah kneels between your parted thighs, one of his hands placed comfortable on top of your thigh, while the other toys with the hem of your panties. His eyes drift across your body, stretched out in front of him. The shyness you had expected to feel is nowhere to be found. Instead, you feel so very comfortable beneath his glance. 
“Oh darling.” he says with a sigh, dragging the backs of his fingers across your still clothed centre.
You gasp, not used to this kind of touch from someone else. 
He keeps is voice low and soft, “You're so wet already, and we haven’t even done anything yet. Can I take these off too?” 
You nod, feeling a little too shaky to speak.
“Push up a little for me.” he says, tapping your hip. 
Noah works the fabric down your waist and legs, letting them disappear somewhere out of your sight. His fingers caress the inside of your thighs, not quite touching where you want him to touch. You are by no means a stranger to touching yourself. You know how to get yourself off, but the anticipation of someone else touching you like that fills your head with fuzz. 
His thumb drags through your folds so slowly and carefully. Your eyes fall shut when he circles it around your clit. Noah mumbles something to himself, but the words don’t reach your ears. You feel fingers tracing along your entrance, and your breath catches when the tip of his middle finger dips inside. 
“Do you always get wet like this, or is this just for me?” he asks, sounding almost amused, “Does that feel good?”
You whine out a yes in reply, earning you a soft chuckle from him. 
He carefully eases his finger inside, paying close attention to the sounds you make in reaction. The digit curls inside you, drawing another new noise from you. 
“I love the sounds you make. Sound so sweet.” He muses, eyes focused entirely on where his finger works in and out of you. 
A second finger joins the first, still so very careful. With his thumb drawing slow circles on your clit, you can start to feel yourself unravel. The attention Noah pays to you makes your head spin. His softly whispered words don’t reach your conscious mind. Your mind can’t focus on anything in particular, flipping between sensations by the second. One moment it’s the intent curl of his fingers inside you, the next it’s the warmth of his palm on your hip. A whine catches in your throat, breath hitching as your climax slowly creeps up on you. As much as you try to keep your eyes open, you fail miserably. That floaty feeling only becomes stronger, slowly dragging you under. 
You’re right on the edge of it. Noah’s hand wraps around yours, holding it just tight enough. 
“You’re right there, aren’t you, baby?” he coaxes, fingers now moving faster and more intent than before, “There you go, just let go for me. That’s it.”
Your own fingers would never come close to this, and really you weren’t sure if you’d ever be satisfied with the highs you could bring yourself to. You’re sure that your grip on his hand is getting too tight, but you can’t will yourself to let go of him. Noah doesn’t let up, keeps working his fingers inside of you as you fall apart on his fingers. Only when your whines take on a pained edge does he ease up and slowly removes the digits from you. 
You give yourself a moment before you dare to open your eyes. When you do, you find Noah already looking at you. You can’t describe the expression on his face as anything less than adoration. You try your best to memorise the moment, just for the worst case scenario that you’ll never see this again. 
His thumb drifts across the back of your hand, effectively drawing you out of your thoughts. 
“How was that? Good?” there’s a trace of the same kind of worry in his voice that you hear when he asks if you like the song he’s been working on. 
“I don’t think that it’s ever felt this good.” you admit quietly. 
The worry is immediately replaced by that cocky smile of his, the kind that makes you want to push him over, “If you’re up for it, I think I can make it even better.” 
You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. 
Noah breaks a second after that, and the soft sound of his laugh is like music to your ears. He folds over, forehead coming to rest against your tummy. His breath tickles against your skin. You decide that he’s entirely too far away from you and bring your hand back into his hair to tug him upwards to you. Noah follows all too easily. He meets you in a clumsy kiss, still smiling when he pulls away from you a moment later. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, still so very close to you, “Good to go on or do you want to finish this later?” 
“Don’t you dare.” you try to sound serious, but you can already feel yourself smiling around the words. 
“Alright, alright. One problem, I didn’t think this was going to happen. I don’t have anything with me.” he sits up a little, suddenly sounding a lot more serious, “If you’d feel better with a condom we can wait.” 
You consider your options for a moment. As much as you want this now, you can’t help but worry. Even with Noah’s assurance that there’s nothing to worry about from his side, the caution that has been beaten into you wins. 
There’s no disappointment on his face when you tell him that you want to wait. Instead, his hand finds its way to the side of your face. 
“It’s okay.” the genuine softness on his face eases the fear in your chest a little, “We don’t need to rush into this.”
“I’ve been waiting for so long –” 
He shakes his head, “I know, darling. I know it feels like you’re missing out, but I’d rather do this right than rushed. And either way, I’m not going anywhere.”
You shoot him a questioning look. 
“Did you really think that I was going to just let us go back to before? I mean, unless you want that –”
This time, you’re the one who stops him from rambling. You pull him in for a kiss, silencing him before his worrying derails entirely. 
“I’m guessing that means we don’t go back to just friends?” he asks, that little bit of smile still fixed on his face. 
“I don’t think I could go back to seeing you as just a friend even if I wanted to.” 
Noah pulls himself away from you, looking somewhat reluctant to put distance between you, “Good. Don’t think I could do that either.” 
“So what does that make us?” you ask quietly. 
Noah is quiet for a long moment. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 
“I don’t wanna do this whole let’s see where this take us thing. I like you – too much, dance around this for ages. We’ve done enough of that already.” 
“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t want to pretend to be my boyfriend when a weird guy tries to chat me up in a bar any more?” 
“Won’t have to pretend.” he replies so softly, “This won’t be easy, but I think we can make it work.”
“We managed to keep this friendship running while you’re off doing your thing.” you counter quickly, “Will be worth it either way.” 
His smile widens at that, “We’ll make this work.”
“We will.” you reply, stifling a yawn, “But that can wait until tomorrow – later today.” 
When you had found him on your sofa earlier that night, you hadn’t thought that you would end the night curled up against him like this. Or that any of this would happen for that matter. He’s held you like this before, but now, with his warm hands resting against the skin of your tummy, you feel so very comforted. You feel Noah press another kiss to your cheek, you’ve lost count of how many kisses he’s pressed to your skin since your talk, but they all make you feel soft and warm inside. 
Behind you, Noah lets out a content sigh, as his arms tighten around you, and suddenly you wonder how you’ve ever gone without this.
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@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon
@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d
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yeonbinwyd · 1 day
Note
Can you do Heesung next? Thank you 🥹
of course!! rest of the hyung line next??
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after party
pairing: sub fem!reader x softdom! heesung
synopsis: you had been friends with Heesung for some time. You always felt there was sexual tension between you two but he wouldn’t admit it. After one night out for an event turns into too much drinking, the truth comes out.
genre (w/tags): smut, minors dni, breeding kink, romantic?, mentions of alcohol.
a/n: I personally think heesung would be the biggest baby when drunk and begs for attention being all needy.
Word count: 1127
“Whats up with your phone? You’ve been blowing up all night.” You were at dinner with your best friend. She had asked in an irritated tone. “It’s just a friend. He’s super drunk right now and he wants to meet up” you explain.
“He??? Wants to meet up” she’s now intrigued.
“Stop he’s just a friend. I think he just needs some support. “ you continued. She pursed her lips together and shook her head. He was lucky you both were warping up dinner and were about to go separate ways. You two spilt the bill and went off your own ways. He had been in front of a boba shop that still open, hands in pockets, leaning against a bike rack. He was bright red, trying to cover his face until he saw you.
“Heeey” he coos “I’m so glad to see you! Let’s get some boba and something to eat! I’m starving.” Heesung requests throwing his arm over your shoulder. He puts his weight on you, standing over you. Managing him while drunk was going to be tough.
You listened to his request and got him his favorite tea with something solid to eat. When you brought them back to him, he was beyond excited, he even kissed your cheek.
“You’re a life saver! Thank you!! “ he doesn’t waste any time and takes them both in. You both sit outside since he was being obnoxiously loud but it was the one thing you really enjoyed about him.
“You know you’re the only one I really trust when I’m like this.”
He confesses. You’re not surprised since you haven’t drank once during the entire time of their friendship.
“I’m so glad you’re in my life.” He adds while taking a bite of his chicken. With furrowed brows you glance back at your phone, shoving off his comment. He scoots closer beside you.
“I mean it” he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. You can’t take him seriously and laugh in his face.
“You can’t be for real right?
“You don’t think I can be serious?” He asks while giving the saddest eyes.
“Not in the slightest. At least not while you’re drunk. “ you set him straight but he doesn’t want to give up. Heesung scoots even closer, leaning in to kiss your lips. You let him, tasting the taro tea he had been drinking lingering on his mouth. He cups your face, trying to deepen the kiss but you pull away.
“No wait” you stop him.
“Too much?” He backs away to give you space.
“No I like it. ” without a second thought, you grab his hand, causing him to leave his snacks where you two were sitting. You two get in the backseat of your car and continue the kiss. He smirks while pressing his lips on yours, feeling victorious. Heesung hugs your hips making you to sit on his lap. His kisses turn into little nibbles, caressing your collar, nuzzling in your neck. His glorious moans.
“I really feel at home with you.” He admits hugging you snug. You give him a shy smile but he can’t see you in the dark backseat. You grab his chin, smiling into the kiss. Heesung takes the hint and holds you closer. Him being drunk have him the courage to make a move. He just wanted to gush his feelings for you nonstop.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
I want you to be mine.
Can we be together?
All thoughts of his running through his head. As his tongue dominates the kiss, he starts to shed off his clothes, while you do the same. You take off your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. His eyes widen in excitement. Heesung rotates your hips to grind against him. Throwing his head back, exposing his Adams apple, he moans lowly. He grinds back, forcing you to groan in return. He starts to bury his face in your chest while placing kisses, worshiping them.
“Can I fuck you baby?” He begged, face still red and flush.
“Please” you beg in return. You get off his lap to have him undo his pants. His hard on, soaked in pre cum was ready for you. Lifting up your skirt then shifting your panties to the side, you glide down. You were equally as wet, wanting him for so long too. You cry out at his massive girth causing you to not move yet. Concerned, Heesung places kisses on your cheek.
“Take your time” he instructs. You don’t give up and prop your hands on his shoulders. He leans back against the car seat, as you take control. As you ride him, he looks almost in tears, overwhelmed with the pressure he’s received. He grips your hips, helping you move up and down. Each move, bringing him closer and closer. He spreads your ass cheeks for a better hold. It makes you even feel even better than before. Your eyes rolling back, nails digging into his skin, leaving indents, he feels so good you don’t want to stop.
“That’s it you’re doing well” he encourages. He loves looking up at you, taking his cock like a champ. He knew you were the one, it solidified it for him. He laid you flat on your side, lifting your leg up to get in better. He grunts as he enters, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure again. Heesung hugs your thigh, while thrusting in you. He sinks himself into your neck, close to your ear. He feels himself getting deeper and closer.
“I’m keeping you. You’re mine now.” He demands as his strokes become stronger and out of control. You can feel his cock hitting your cervix. He whines lowly while his cum begins to pour out. You can feel him feeling you up but he doesn’t stop there. Heesung lays you flat, with both legs over his shoulders. He takes you in again.
“Make me cum again baby. Make me cum for you.” He commands as he doesn’t lose his pace. You just trying to catch your breath. You panting and wipe the sweat from Heesung’s forehead. Infatuated with you, he kisses your lips, biting down as you both groan for each other.
“I’m close baby. Cum for me” you request.
“Yes I’ll do whatever you want.” He goes so fast that he makes you squirt on the two of you. He cums violently after. He holds onto, not wanting to let go and pull out. Heesung lays his head on your chest in the most needy way. Covered in sweat he helps you get dress and glances at the time. At this point the fucking made him sober up.
“So we should talk huh?” He brings up.
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Text
Crash Course
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
word count: 822
pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader
summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings
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The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.
But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.
A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.
As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.
“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.
Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.
“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.
Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”
Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”
“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.
Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”
“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”
Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?
Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”
“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”
Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”
Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.
Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”
Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.
“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.
Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”
Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.
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tetsuissohot · 15 hours
Text
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Toji Fushijuro ONESHOT part II
☆summary. "I'll think about it" that's what she said. But she could think about it now, right? As Y/N tries to leave their tense encounter behind, Toji isn’t ready to let her go. Stopping her in her tracks, he pulls her into a heated and desperate moment that reignites the fire between them. The intensity of their unresolved attraction and buried emotions rises to the surface.
☆warning/tags: 18+ fem!reader, casual, SFW, building up tention, ex's to lovers?, part 2
☆word count: 6.2k
☆a/n: This is part 2! I hope you enjoy it. This section contains some sexual tension and intimate moments (kissing), but there are no explicit sexual scenes. If I decide to write a part 3, it may include sexual content, but this part does not.
Please note that English is not my first language, and I am also dyslexic, so there may be some mistakes. However, I do my best to minimize them.
part 1
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The dim light of the bar cast shadows across Toji’s face as he watched Y/N carefully. Her words—I’ll think about it—echoed in his mind, but the way she looked at him made it impossible for him to ignore the tension between them. It had always been like this with her: every conversation felt like a game of tug-of-war, every look a challenge, and every touch an invitation.
Toji’s hand rested on top of hers, his thumb lazily brushing circles against her skin. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening at the contact. She couldn’t deny that being this close to him again stirred something deep inside her—something she had tried to bury after their breakup.
“You sure you don’t want to make that decision tonight?” His voice was low, a soft rumble that carried far more meaning than the words alone.
she couldn’t sit here any longer. The intensity in his eyes, the heat of his touch—it was all too much. If she stayed, she wasn’t sure she could keep her resolve. With a deep breath, she slowly withdrew her hand from his and stood up from the table, trying to steady herself.
“I need to go,” Y/N muttered, more to herself than to him.
She turned, ready to leave the bar and escape the chaos of emotions swirling inside her, but she didn’t make it far. Before she could take another step, Toji’s hand shot out and caught her wrist, his grip firm but gentle.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. He rose from his seat, the chair scraping softly against the floor as he stood, towering over her.
Y/N froze, her heart racing as his fingers wrapped around her wrist. She could feel the warmth of his skin seeping into hers, the same familiar heat she had once craved. Her body betrayed her, responding to his touch before her mind could catch up.
“Toji…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at him.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his grip still firm but not forceful. His eyes darkened with a mix of emotions—desire, regret, and something deeper that she couldn’t quite place. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them, his other hand moving to cup the side of her face.
Y/N’s breath hitched as his thumb brushed gently along her cheek, the intimate gesture making her knees weak. She tried to pull away again, but Toji was having none of it.
“You really think you can walk away from this?” he asked, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “From us?” his voice rougher now “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N... And I don’t think I want to.”
Her pulse quickened at the sound of his voice, her body reacting instinctively to his proximity. She hated how easily he could undo her, how a single touch could make her forget all the reasons she’d left him in the first place.
“I’m trying to,” she breathed, her voice faltering as she felt the heat of his breath against her skin. “I have to.”
But her body told a different story. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if she needed to steady herself.
Toji’s lips ghosted over the side of her neck, teasing but not quite touching, and Y/N felt the tension between them rise to a fever pitch. The electricity in the air was undeniable, a spark that had never really gone out, only hidden beneath layers of anger and regret.
“Toji…” she started, but before she could finish, he turned her around in one swift motion, pressing her back against the wall behind them.
His hand slid from her wrist to her waist, his grip tightening as he pinned her there, his body flush against hers. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and Y/N could feel the strength in him—the raw power that had always both attracted and terrified her.
His eyes bore into hers, intense and filled with desire. “You can’t tell me you don’t still feel it,” he said, his voice rough, barely containing the fire simmering beneath the surface. “I want you back, Y/N,” he said, full of need. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
Y/N swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his gaze, the way his body pressed against hers. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to give in, to stop fighting and just let herself feel.
And when Toji finally closed the distance, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, desperate kiss, It wasn’t soft or gentle, Y/N found herself doing exactly that. She kissed him back just as hard, her hands sliding up to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer.
The kiss was all fire and frustration, the pent-up longing from months of separation pouring out in waves. Toji’s hand moved up her side, slipping beneath her shirt to rest on the bare skin of her back, his touch igniting a fire inside her. She moaned softly into the kiss, her body arching toward him instinctively.
Toji growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers. His hand moved higher, fingers tracing the curve of her spine before pulling her closer, pressing her even tighter against the wall. Every part of him was solid, strong, and overwhelming, just like he always had been.
Y/N’s mind spun, her thoughts a blur as the intensity of the moment consumed her. She knew she should stop, knew this wasn’t just about lust—it was about the years of history, the pain, the longing. But it was impossible to pull away when every fiber of her being wanted him.
“Toji…” she gasped, breaking the kiss for just a moment to catch her breath. Her hands fisted into his shirt, holding onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her steady.
He didn’t let her finish, his lips trailing down the side of her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His breath was hot against her skin, his teeth grazing lightly along her collarbone, making her shudder.
“You think I’m letting you go again?” he murmured, his voice rough and full of raw need. His hand slid lower, gripping her waist possessively. “Not a chance.”
Y/N’s body responded to his words before her mind could process them. She tilted her head back, giving him more access as his lips moved against her neck, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Every part of her was on fire, the heat between them threatening to consume them both.
But somewhere, in the back of her mind, a small voice reminded her of the risk. The last time they had been like this, it had ended in heartbreak. Could she trust him again? Could she trust herself?
“Toji…” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the emotions swirling inside her. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t shake the fear that came with letting him back in.
He pulled back slightly, his lips hovering over hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His eyes softened, the intensity still there but laced with something deeper—something she hadn’t seen before.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice softer now, filled with a sincerity that took her off guard. “I swear.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. For the first time, she saw the vulnerability beneath the tough exterior, the man behind the fighter. And in that moment, she realized that maybe, just maybe, he meant it.
She looked up at him, her lips swollen from the kiss, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She didn’t have the answers, didn’t know if she could truly trust him again. But as she gazed into his eyes, she knew one thing for certain—this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
And maybe that was enough for now.
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 days
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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
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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pepi1989 · 3 days
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Can you write a mix of angst and fluff about having a really bad argument with Ben and not being on speaking terms? Like what happened, you getting frustrated and upset and both of you making up after?
Broken Words, Mended Hearts - Ben Shelton
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The argument started small, almost insignificant, like it always does. But it snowballed faster than either of us could stop. I don’t even remember what set it off, something about him missing dinner because of a training session, but the moment we raised our voices, all the unresolved frustrations poured out.
“You don’t get it, Ben!” I shouted, pacing the living room. “I wait around, clear my schedule, and you don’t even have the decency to let me know when plans change? It’s like I’m the last thing on your mind!”
Ben’s face hardened, his brows furrowing as he crossed his arms. “That’s not fair. I told you I had practice, I can’t just drop everything because you want more time.”
I stopped, glaring at him, my chest tight with anger and hurt. “It’s not about time, it’s about effort! You don’t put in any. I’m always waiting on you, always compromising. Do you even care?”
That hit a nerve. Ben’s jaw clenched, his voice dangerously low. “Do I care? Seriously? You think I’m out here doing all of this for myself? I’m trying to balance everything, but nothing is ever enough for you, is it?”
His words stung. Deeply. My throat felt thick as I tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “I just want to feel like I matter to you, Ben. Lately, it’s like I’m invisible. And when you do show up, you’re not really... here.”
He ran his hands through his hair, frustration clear on his face. “That’s not true. I’m doing my best!”
“Well, your best isn’t good enough!” I snapped, and the second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But I was too mad to take it back.
Ben’s face fell. His hands dropped to his sides, defeated. “Fine,” he said coldly. “If that’s how you feel, then what are we even doing?”
The air between us felt like it shattered. The silence that followed was suffocating, and I could feel my heart breaking as he walked away, leaving me alone in the living room with nothing but the echoes of our words.
The days after that were unbearable. We hadn’t spoken since the fight. Every time I thought about reaching out, I’d replay those final words in my head, what are we even doing? and the guilt would wash over me, too heavy to shake off.
I kept my phone close, hoping for something, anything from him. But nothing came. And as the hours stretched into days, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was it. Maybe we were really over. Maybe the fight had broken us beyond repair.
I hated how much I missed him. His laugh, his warmth, the way he’d pull me into his arms without saying a word. But now there was just this aching void, and the longer it lasted, the more I feared we wouldn’t come back from it.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. The silence was too loud, and I needed to know if there was still something left to salvage. So I grabbed my keys and drove to his place, my heart racing the entire way.
When I knocked on the door, Ben opened it, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were tired, his hair messy, but beneath all that, I saw the same sadness I’d been carrying.
He didn’t say anything, just stepped aside to let me in. The tension was thick, but I didn’t care. I needed to talk. To fix this.
“I hate this,” I said quietly, my voice shaking. “I hate not talking to you.”
Ben exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “Me too. I’ve been going crazy.”
I took a deep breath, fighting back the tears. “I didn’t mean what I said, Ben. You’re more than enough. I was just scared. I don’t want to lose you.”
He moved closer, his hand reaching out to brush against mine. “You’re not going to lose me. I don’t want to lose you either.”
Before I could say anything else, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight, like he was afraid I might slip away. His embrace felt like home, and the tension that had weighed on me for days melted away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against my hair, his voice soft and full of regret. “I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve listened.”
I sniffled, pressing my face into his chest. “I’m sorry too. I was so scared I couldn’t see how hard you were trying.”
Ben tilted my chin up, his eyes full of warmth. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
His lips found mine in a kiss that felt like a promise, soft and slow, like we were sealing our commitment to each other. And when we finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Next time we argue, we’re not going to let it get this bad, okay?” he murmured.
I nodded, still clinging to him. “Deal. I missed you too much.”
He chuckled, the sound light and full of relief. “I missed you more.” His arms tightened around me, and I could feel the love in every word, every touch. “Let’s never go to bed angry again.”
I laughed softly. “Agreed. Though I might make you beg for forgiveness next time.”
Ben grinned, his eyes twinkling with that playful spark I loved so much. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, all the hurt and tension replaced by warmth and soft kisses. Everything felt right again, like we’d found our way back to each other after losing our way. I knew we weren’t perfect, but as long as we had each other, we’d always be okay.
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mars-ipan · 3 months
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experiencing any level of joint pain for longer than a day or two has only reinforced my belief that ppl with chronic pain are actually the strongest motherfuckers on the goddamn planet
#marzi speaks#hi. my knees r still kinda fucked up. at some point a few days ago i hyperextended my elbows#so now those have been hurting#my traps r fucked bc i’ve been stressed and those are prone to holding tension in me#my knee pain made me walk wrong for a little bit so now i’m trying to fix that to alleviate the foot and ankle pain#oh yeah. my thumb is still tender for some reason despite the tendonitis having been healed as well#the only part of my body that hasn’t betrayed me as of yet is my spine and pelvis#i am so sick of moving and having it hurt#and like i can go about my day n shit. and have a good time#but it is always there and it is fucking annoyingggg#and ppl with chronic pain just live their whole lives like this.#and they don’t blow up and attack anyone who treats them shitty about it#and i am amazed#bc i talked to my dad abt maybe going to the doctor abt my knees to see what’s going on#bc i don’t remember injuring them at all and i don’t really feel too much improvement on a day to day#and he just gave me a stretch to do about it#now the stretch helps. but my knees still hurt. so like. what do u want from me#if i were to bring it up again he’d probably say it wasn’t a big deal. he’s seen me hobble around the house n how slow i’m moving rn#i normally run around my house. i have been walking at a pace that pisses me off bc i’m impatient#even just having like. worries that are probably exagerrated get dismissed like that has kinda made me wanna kill him a little bit#and this is something that i know is gonna heal and get better#ppl with chronic pain don’t Get That. and they are still dismissed constantly#how do you not like. murder everyone around you. the infinite patience. genuinely the strongest among us#i didn’t mean to complain in these tags as much as i did (my knees r actually doing pretty ok rn and my ankles are getting better)#but i suppose i am bitter
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rouge-the-bat · 2 years
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ever get a headache that just fucks up ur whole day
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nochepsicodelica · 2 months
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You're tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep in any position you lie in. Every time you turn, Toji accommodates to your new position, but you never last in one position long enough for him to stay asleep.
"Do you not want me to cuddle you or something?" He asks, opening his tired eyes for the nth time that night.
"No, you're good," you respond, turning onto your side, again. He sighs, hoping this will be the position you finally fall asleep in. He latches onto your back, wrapping his arm around you before shutting his eyes. Two minutes later, you're wiggling around, again, turning onto your stomach. Your arms wrap around your pillow, and you rest the side of your face on it. Toji always has to be touching some part of you when he sleeps, so he throws his arm over your back. He clicks his tongue when, once again, you flip onto your back.
"What, baby? Why are you moving around so much?" He's trying not to let his tiredness control his attitude towards you, but you've been doing this for almost half an hour now.
"I can't sleep. I close my eyes and nothing happens. It's just dark," you explain.
"Well, try again, ma. You wake up too early to be going to sleep so late."
You do as he says, and try again. Your arms rest on your stomach and you try to stay as still as possible with your eyes shut. Suddenly, your feet feel too warm and you feel the urge to find a cool spot on the blanket, so you shift your legs. You feel like your head is in an awkward position on your pillow, like you're sinking backwards and your neck is uncomfortable because of it. You feel like turning back onto your side and curling up, so you do just that, letting Toji's arm slide off your chest.
"Shift one more time," he grumbles, turning his body towards your back, again, draping his arm over your waist. He's tired of hearing the sheets rustle with every move you make.
You heed his warning, and stay still for the longest you have in a minute. Toji thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, and feels safe to doze off, as well.
Then, you flip onto your other side, snapping the last string of Toji's patience. Without a single warning, you're being pulled until you're flat on top of him, your face buried in his chest. His arms wrap around you, fastening your body against his and he crosses his legs over yours, securing them. He can feel you fidgeting in his hold, still trying to move.
"Stop, mama," he says, holding you tighter. "Just breathe."
You still and try to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. It's steady, like the rise and fall of his chest. He smells good and his skin is comfortably warm. His arms apply a relaxing amount of pressure on your back. You don't feel unsteady as you remain balanced on top of him. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breathing is replicating the rhythm of his. Your heartbeat is slowing as you calm down and you release all the tension in your body, allowing yourself to go limp. Your eyelids fall shut and all that can be heard are the soft sounds of you breathing through your nose. Both of you finally get to rest.
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