#eating dinner was enough sitting up for me time to lie down again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkshort · 10 months ago

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i know who you are | 5. the dinner

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Everything seems perfect until it all unravels. Emotions come to a head and the big lie is revealed.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, alcohol use, eating, flirting, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity, one use of 'daddy', big ol' emotional argument (lots of mean and hurtful things get said)

WC: 9.5K

Series Masterlist

By some miracle, you didn't end up getting sick, although it took most people in town a full week to recover from the flu. The infirmary was packed every day and Nick regularly expressed his endless gratitude that you chose to work for him. Maria and Tommy isolated as best they could in their home out of fear their daughter would get sick. When the townspeople slowly began to recover, they were itching to do something, so they decided to host a dinner.

One thing you hadn't done in ages was bake. You used to do it often, something you found rather soothing and rewarding long before the world went to shit, so you decided to make something to bring to dinner. After exploring your pantry, you discovered you had the right ingredients to make a simple pie crust, so you got to work mixing and rolling out the dough, getting so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear Joel walk through the front door.

When he heard you working away in the kitchen, he walked softly towards the entryway and leaned against the frame to admire you. He crossed his arms and smiled to himself when he saw the bits of flour smeared across your cheeks and your hair a little disheveled, your appearance not a concern to you as you worked.

It was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He almost felt bad when you suddenly sensed his presence and looked up, disrupting your flow.

"Don't mind me," he said with a smirk before strolling over to the table to sit. "Whatcha up to?"

"Making a pie," you told him as you pinched some flour between your fingers and scattered it over the counter. You picked up the sticky ball of dough and sprinkled that with a bit of flour, as well, before grabbing the rolling pin. "Thought it would be nice to bring something with us tonight."

Joel nodded and picked up an apple from the bowl on the table. "That's nice of you," he said before taking a bite, "I'm sure they don't expect us to bring anythin'. They're just bored outta their minds and lookin' for someone to play with their kid for a while."

"Hey! I need those!" you scolded when you heard the crunch. He paused his chewing and looked down at the apple in his hand before stretching his arm out to you with a grin.

"Here you go," he said, mouth full. You laughed and shook your head before focusing on the dough once again.

"Keep it," you said, "I'll still have enough."

He leaned back in his chair and watched you diligently roll the dough out until you achieved the level of thickness you desired and then laid it gently in a buttered pie pan.

"Can you help me peel?" you asked when you came over to grab the bowl from the table, and he couldn't resist reaching out to dust away the flour from your cheek. You looked at him in surprise and he gave you a small smile.

"'Course I'll help," he said, standing up to grab two knives from the drawer. After giving yourself a moment to recover from his unexpected touch, you joined him at the counter, placing the bowl between you both as you began to peel in a comfortable silence. It had been almost two weeks since you saw Ben outside the tailor, and although you always looked for him whenever you walked to and from work, you never crossed paths with him again. You had been hoping to corner him to try to get more information before confronting Joel, but you had no such luck. So, with a deep breath, you cleared your throat and focused on your apple before speaking.

"Joel?"

"Hm?" he replied, his brows pinching together as he carefully worked his knife around the apple in the palm of his hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked as your pulse began to thrum faster in your throat.

"Sure," he said, still laser focused on his task.

"Who are the Fireflies?"

His hand slipped and he dropped the apple and knife, pulling the pad of his thumb into his mouth with a hiss. You gasped when you saw a few drops of dark red blood on the cutting board and put your knife down before grabbing a somewhat clean towel and handing it to him.

"Is it bad?" you asked, taking a step forward to try and see his injury before he wrapped it in the towel. He shook his head.

"Nah, I'll live," he said, studying the cut for a second before applying pressure again.

Still, you rushed to the linen closet to grab the first aid kit and brought it downstairs. "Rinse it under the water," you instructed him before opening the bag and rifling around. He did as he was told and watched you pluck out a bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Show me," you said, and he held his hand out to you so you could examine the cut. He studied you up close while your attention was focused on his thumb, taking in every feature on your perfect face and inhaling your familiar, comforting scent while you bandaged him up. If this was what it took to get you close to him, then he was ready to injure himself every damn day.

"You're good at that," he murmured, flexing his thumb when you were all done. "Learnin' a lot from Nick?"

You packed up the first aid kit, avoiding his heated gaze. "Yeah, I guess so," you said, turning back to your apples. Ever since Joel caught the flu and you helped nurse him back to health, it felt like there was a shift in the air between you. He was more brazen with his touch, like when he wiped the flour from your cheek, and while you never asked him not to touch you, your feelings for him were complicated. Until you could figure it out, you had been trying your best to not allow yourself to get caught in his orbit.

It was proving to be more difficult than you expected.

"Why don't you go sit down, I can finish these up," you said, your eyes cast down on the apples. You felt him regard you silently for a moment before he pushed off the counter and went back to his spot at the kitchen table. It was obvious what he was doing. It was the exact opposite of what you were doing. He was trying to create a charged moment, and you were trying to avoid them.

"You didn't answer my question," you said, and his energy immediately shifted.

"Where'd you hear 'bout the Fireflies? From Ellie?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. You looked up at him, confused.

"Ellie? No," you replied, shaking your head. "I ran into Ben a few days after our visit. He thought you had already told me about them and seemed a little skittish when I didn't know who they were."

You watched him closely, refusing to look away as he tried to mask his anger, but you could still see it. His jaw tensed and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist in his lap while you waited for an answer.

"So?" you prodded, cocking your head to the side. His nostrils flared for a second before he took a deep breath and turned his head away.

"The Fireflies were the group the three of you had joined before comin' to Jackson," he began. You tried to focus on peeling your apples but you were working incredibly slow, not wanting to miss a single word. "You were with 'em for a couple years. They had a decent setup, kept you all safe. Better than the QZ."

"Okay," you said slowly, picking up another apple. "So it was a community like this one?"

He huffed and shook his head, "Not exactly. More like an army. They're a revolutionary group. They rose up against the military and took over QZs with the promise of givin' control back to the people, but..." he trailed off and scratched his beard. "Wasn't all that simple. They killed alotta people in the process, and in the end, civilians still suffered. Didn't end up matterin' who was in control when both sides were just as violent."

"Oh," you said softly, setting your knife down, "so I joined because of what happened to my family? Because the military killed them? And then I ended up killing innocent people, anyway?"

Joel shrugged and stood up. "Like I said, we all made decisions the best we could with what we knew at the time. You didn't know any better. Nobody did."

"Did you join them, too?" you asked.

"No," he said, pressing both palms flat against the counter as he looked at you.

"So why did Ben seem to think telling me about the Fireflies would cause a problem with us?"

His mouth pressed into a thin line and you saw the suppressed rage flicker across his eyes again. "Fireflies ain't exactly well received by most people," he said, "lotta people here had family that was hurt or killed. Innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a war they didn't start."

You swallowed nervously, apples long forgotten as you braced yourself for your next question. "Did the Fireflies hurt someone you loved?"

Joel's gaze dropped to his hands and he clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell you. He should have just fucking spit it out and told you everything, but at the last second, he chickened out.

"No."

And you may not have known him as well as you did before the accident, but you knew him well enough now to be able to tell when he was lying. You tried to hide your disappointment by picking your knife back up and getting to work.

"Are there others?" you asked him, and he lifted his head up, "other former Fireflies who live here?"

"Aside from you three? Just Tommy."

Your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes snapped up to him once again. "Tommy?"

"Mhmm, just for a little while. You didn't know each other before Jackson," he said, anticipating your next question. "Fireflies are a big group. Spread out all over the country."

"Oh," you said softly, looking back down at your half peeled apples which were slowly becoming brown on the edges. You began peeling again, faster now, as you thought about everything he just said while he watched you carefully from the other side of the counter. You weren't sure what else to say. It felt like he was telling you the truth, but you still had a hunch he was leaving something out.

"Y'know, it's a miracle I didn't eat half that damn pie before we got here," Joel said teasingly as you walked up the porch steps to Tommy and Maria's house. "Whole house smells like Christmas now. Drove me crazy all afternoon."

You smiled and smoothed down the blue blouse you found tucked away in your closet. It wasn't a top you could envision yourself working in, it looked a bit too nice for that, so you thought dinner would be a perfect time to wear it, combined with a dark pair of jeans that were relatively clean and only slightly frayed on the bottom. At the time, you thought it was cute when Joel came downstairs with his hair slicked back and his flannel tucked into his jeans for once, but when you walked into Tommy and Maria's and found the house to be filled with four married couples from around town, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"I didn't realize anyone else would be here," you murmured quietly next to Joel as you slid off your coats.

"He mentioned they may invite a few others but I didn't think this many," he told you, taking your coat and hanging it up before looking around. They had two tables covered in linen pushed together in their dining room which was alight with candles and sprigs of pine and holly spread around the middle, giving the room with a warm and romantic atmosphere. You swallowed nervously and all of the sudden, the evening felt too much like a date.

"Hey, you two!" Tommy's voice rang out from the kitchen, startling you out of your reverie. "Glad you could make it," he said, tugging Joel into a hug before giving you a chaste peck on the cheek.

"Um, here," you said, holding out the pie, "didn't want to come empty handed," you explained with a little smile. Tommy's eyes lit up when he took the pan from you and gave the pie a quick sniff.

"Damn, smells good, Sugar," he told you, his cheeks already rosy from the liquor he had been working on before you arrived. He shot Joel a playful look as he headed into the kitchen, handing Maria the dessert. "Your girl can bake, Joel. Lucky man."

The tips of your ears went hot and you looked away uncomfortably before Joel could catch your eye.

"I'll get us a couple drinks," Joel said, ignoring Tommy's comment, much to your relief. "What'dya want?"

You glanced around the room and what the other women were drinking before shrugging and suggesting wine. He followed Tommy over to the living room where they kept their liquor locked up and away from their toddler, who was gleefully playing with another woman you didn't recognize. Popping your head into the kitchen, you spotted Maria all by herself working on dinner.

"Maria," you said with a smile, and she turned around with a sigh of relief.

"Hey, I'm dying here, can you help me?"

"Of course," you said, rolling up your sleeves. "What do you need?"

She put you to work right away, chopping up vegetables and dumping them into boiling water before helping her thicken a sauce she was making for some pasta. You were just about to taste test the product when Joel and Tommy joined you in the kitchen with the drink that he promised.

"Smells so fuckin' good in here," Tommy said loudly before taking a generous sip of whiskey and giving Maria a quick peck on the lips. Joel put your wine glass near you on the counter and you shot him a thankful smile before bringing a spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. You winced and scrunched up your nose and Joel chuckled.

"It's missing something," you explained, putting the spoon back down as you examined the spices available to you while Maria was instructing Tommy on doling out the appetizers.

"Lemme try," he said, rounding the corner to stand next to you. You handed him the spoon and he held up his whiskey. "Hands are full," he told you teasingly, and you rolled your eyes with a grin before dipping the spoon back into the sauce and lifting it to his mouth. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyes and making a soft noise at the taste. Your knees suddenly felt weak and your face felt hot as you struggled to compose yourself before he caught you.

He opened his eyes slowly and ran his tongue over his upper lip to capture the remnants of the sauce and you had to resist the urge to swipe your thumb over his mustache to gather the rest. It made your breath hitch in your throat and you forced yourself to look away, mentally cursing your body's reaction to him.

"Lemon," he said huskily, then took a sip from his glass while still staring down at you. Your eyes drifted up to his and you saw that look again. The one that made you feel too many things at once: nervousness, excitement, pressure, confusion. So you took a deep breath and squeezed past him, having no choice but to brush up against his chest.

"You're right. It needs lemon," you said, finding one in the mess on Maria's counter and slicing it in half before squeezing it generously over the sauce. Joel leaned against the counter, one arm caging you in from behind as you worked. You tried to ignore how close he was but you could feel his breath on your skin and it was causing your pulse to race. Fortunately, Maria came to your rescue.

"How's it going?" she asked, and Joel pushed off the counter, stepping back to give you both some room.

"Good, I think the sauce is done," you told her, and after she gave it a little taste, her eyes lit up.

"So good!" she said, clearly pleased. You felt your cheeks heat up before gesturing towards Joel.

"Thank Joel. He thought of the lemon."

Maria shot Joel a smile and thanked him as he tipped his glass in her direction before taking another sip. "Happy to help, ladies," he said.

"Go enjoy the party, I got it from here," Maria told you, shooing you away.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'm just going to plate everything and we're good to go. Help yourself to some appetizers before they're all gone," she said, turning her back on you as she started pulling down serving platters.

You picked up your wine and took a sip, hoping to quell some of your nerves as you let Joel lead you into the living room where the party was in full swing. Tommy had his daughter balancing on his shoulders as he talked to a couple men, their wives at the other end of the room in the middle of a lively conversation. You chewed your lip, glancing back and forth before you took another sip and looked up at Joel.

"Guess I'll go see what's got them all worked up," you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the other women.

"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "Don't want you feelin' uncomfortable. We can stick together if y'want."

You shook your head and stepped away. "I'm fine," you told him before forcing yourself to join the other women. As you approached, you gave the women a friendly wave to catch their attention and they beckoned you towards them with open arms. They all seemed to be around your age range, give or take, and very friendly as they took the time to re-introduce themselves to you. You politely listened to them talk about their kids or jobs while you sipped your wine and nodded along. When three of the women became engrossed in a story about their children and school, you felt yourself begin to zone out. The girl standing next to you, Hannah, caught your eye and smiled.

"Do you have any kids?" you asked her, and she shook her head.

"Not yet. I don't think we're ready, you know?" she said, glancing over your shoulder at her husband. "But one day I think we will. How about you and Joel? What are your plans?" she asked, then her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. That was a dumb question, you probably don't... ah, I'm such an idiot," she said, and you laughed.

"No, you're not, it's fine," you assured her as her cheeks began to flush.

"I guess I just keep forgetting about your accident. That was so rude of me," she said, "I see you guys together all the time and it seems so normal."

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, watching for a moment as he laughed heartily at something one of the other men said. "Yeah," you told her, turning back around, "I can see why you'd think that."

Her gaze drifted between you and Joel for a moment before she lowered her voice and took a step further away from the other women. "So you still don't remember anything, huh?"

You shook your head sadly. "Nothing. At this point, I'm not expecting anything to come back. I'm just trying to start over."

She nodded solemnly and took a sip from her wine. "How's it going with you two?" she asked, tilting her chin in Joel's direction. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Same old questions, different person.

"Okay, I guess. He's been incredibly patient," you said, "but I think he is still holding out hope that my memory might come back and we'll just pick up right where we left off."

Hannah gave you a sympathetic look right as Maria approached with a big smile stretched across her face. "Dinner is served!" she announced to the room before bending down and stretching her arms out for her daughter.

Everyone began to scatter as couples rejoined and headed towards the dimly lit dining room. Joel appeared by your side, his hand hovering over your lower back as you waited for the other couples to take their seats.

"Havin' a good time?" he murmured, and you gave him a tight smile before nodding. Joel pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for you and you whispered your thanks when you sat down, then he pushed it back in before taking his own seat. He relaxed and stretched his arm across the back of your chair while he listened with amusement to Tommy drunkenly telling a story that had carried over from the living room.

"The table is beautiful, Maria," you told her, leaning away from Joel a bit. "It's so cozy and warm, you really outdid yourself."

She smiled as she bounced her little girl on her knee. "Thanks. We were just itching to do something, you know? We got a little cabin fever, I think."

You felt Joel's thumb brush lightly against your spine, making you shiver. But when you glanced over at him, he was still caught up in listening to Tommy and you wondered if those little gestures were intentional or if it was muscle memory.

Once everyone began to eat, Joel dropped his arm from your chair and you found yourself missing the warmth that radiated from him, confusing yourself even more. Sometimes you just wanted to hit your head against the wall and rattle your memories loose so you could stop feeling so conflicted. If you were this confused, you couldn't imagine what Joel was feeling. Although, at that moment, he seemed to be perfectly content as he stood up with Tommy to get another drink.

"Y'want any more?" Joel asked, nodding to your glass but you shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said, and when he caught your eye he gave you a quick wink before following Tommy back into the living room.

"So, how's it going at the infirmary? Still like it?" Maria asked, drawing your attention back to her.

"Yeah, I do, actually. That was a good idea, I've been meaning to thank you," you said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin. "It feels good to stay busy and I'm learning a lot."

"Well, Nick always speaks so highly of you. Especially after that nasty flu worked its way through town. He said you were a godsend," Maria told you while simultaneously handing her daughter a steamed carrot.

"She was. Worked her tail off all week then had to deal with me when she got home," Joel said as he sat back down with a soft grunt. You smiled at him, grateful for the compliment.

"If he's anything like his brother when he's sick then I'm sure you've earned sainthood status," Maria said to you, making everyone laugh.

"Hey, what're you sayin' 'bout me down there?" Tommy slurred with a grin from the other end of the table. You were fairly certain Maria answered him with some sharp remark which made the table laugh again, but you couldn't exactly remember because Joel dropped his hand to rest on your knee and you suddenly couldn't think straight. Your skin felt hot under his touch, even through your jeans, and you could have sworn the whole room could hear how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest, so you anxiously grabbed your wine glass and finished the rest in one gulp, hoping it would steady your nerves.

You could have asked him to move his hand. You could have made an excuse, gotten up and used the bathroom, but you didn't. You remained perfectly still, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as you tried to focus on the conversation at the table. Because although your mind was saying one thing, your body was always reacting differently.

If you had known what would have ended up happening that night, you would have done something in that moment. Maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.

Instead, you sat there and didn't say a word. You just politely listened to everyone talk with Joel's hand still on your leg while your body and mind waged a war nobody could see.

When Maria stood to hand off her daughter to Tommy and clear the table, you joined her, finally ending Joel's grip on you. The other women stood while the men attempted to help but got shooed into the living room. When all the ladies were alone in the kitchen, Maria pulled out a jar of apple flavored moonshine that she told you all quietly she was hiding from Tommy because it was her favorite before passing it around for everyone to have a taste.

It was strong. Each of you had to stifle your coughs into your hands, which erupted into giggles and eventually caught the attention of the men, so you all did your best to distract them after they curiously poked their heads into the kitchen so Maria could hide the jar once again.

In retrospect, the alcohol didn't do you any favors. Your head was swimming a little by the time dessert was served and you found yourself inadvertently leaning into Joel's shoulder as everyone complimented your pie and he watched you adoringly while you waved off the praise.

The food was amazing, but combined with the drinks, you found your eyelids growing heavy as the party moved back into the living room and Maria took her daughter to bed.

"I think I'm going to get some air," you told Joel while everyone else got comfortable.

"You alright?" he asked, examining your face closely. You nodded.

"Just getting tired," you explained as you took a step towards the door, but he immediately put his glass down.

"Why didn't you say so? We can go home."

"No, it's okay-"

"You've been workin' so hard lately. You need your rest. Go get your things and I'll tell Tommy we're headin' out," he said, refusing to hear another word. And as much as you didn't want to tear him away from the party, you had to agree with him. The past couple weeks were physically draining and it definitely seemed like the exhaustion was catching up with you.

Once Joel announced your departure and everybody bid you good night, you each grabbed your coats and slid on your boots before heading outside. The brisk night air was a shock to the system and it helped wake you up a bit on the walk home. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, holding you close to him, enveloping you with his warmth and when you inevitably reflected on that night, you would remember that moment as one on a long list of ways you were sending him mixed signals because you didn't pull away. Because as confused as you were about your feelings for him, you couldn't deny the attraction you harbored. And maybe it was partially your fault for not being stronger because you knew, you fucking knew Joel's feelings for you were far deeper than yours that night, and yet you still didn't step away.

When you arrived home and Joel fumbled clumsily with the door, you giggled, making him grin and his eyes light up at the sound before finally shoving the door open and flicking on a light. You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your boots with a sigh, the faint smell of apple pie still lingering in the air. You were happy to be in the comfort of your own home and eager to throw on your pajamas, but Joel led you into the kitchen first and poured you some water. You couldn't help but smile at how reminiscent it was from when he was sick and you did the same thing for him, so you took it and made sure to drink the whole thing while he watched with a pleased expression on his face.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"

The glass was still pressed against your mouth, the last drops of water just swallowed, and you froze. Slowly, you lowered the glass to the counter and shook your head, unable to look away from his heated stare.

"Well, you did. Lit up the whole place. Prettier than all the other women," he said, fighting to remain still and not pull you into his arms. But he was losing that battle.

"Thank you," you said softly, forcing yourself to look away. It didn't deter him.

"I mean it. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Talkin' 'bout you," he said, watching your face heat up as he blinked slowly. "Lookin' at you," he added after a quiet moment, and you laughed softly while you crossed your arms protectively over your chest.

"Joel..." you began, not even sure what you planned to say so you opted for staring blankly out the window just so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye.

"What, baby?" he murmured, taking a bold step forward and pinching your chin with his fingers. You dragged your gaze back up to him just to find his dark brown eyes all wide and filled with hope and tenderness as he stared down at you, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, clearly displaying his intention but you still didn't step away. Your body wouldn't let you move.

"We're both drunk," you told him, trying to remain rational. Trying to stay clear-headed.

"Not that drunk," he quickly countered, his eyes still roaming your face, his fingers still pressing into your chin and you could feel your heart flutter wildly. Why on earth couldn't your mind catch up with your body?

You sighed, partially from the exhaustion, partially from the inability to properly express yourself but he took it to mean something else. He heard your sigh and thought you were finally giving in. That you were finally going to let him kiss you. Because why else wouldn't you have pulled away?

He leaned forward, his eyes slid shut, and although you should have known it was coming, it still surprised you. Your eyes stayed open wide as he inched towards you and finally at the very last second, you tilted your face to the side, causing him to press his lips against your cheek instead.

You felt his reaction before you could see it. His lips immediately tensed against your skin and his breathing stalled. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he leaned back, eyes no longer warm and inviting.

You tightly pressed your lips together in shame. "Joel, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," he said quickly, cutting you off and backing away.

The hurt was evident across his face, although he tried to hide it by averting his gaze.

"I just don't think I'm there yet," you said after a long, tense moment. "I'm trying-"

"Yeah, I know," he replied harshly, turning on his heel and marching out of the kitchen. "I know you're tryin' to force yourself to love me. It's gotta be real hard, I get it," he spat, his voice so cold it made you shudder as he shoved his boots back on.

You choked back a sob as you watched him grab his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know," was all he said before flinging the door open and storming out, leaving you all alone in the entryway with tears slowly streaking down your cheeks.

What an absolute fucking idiot he was.

What was he thinking? That you would magically find him attractive again? Love him again? That he was worthy of your time and care and attention? After everything he did?

You didn't know, of course, but what else could it be, other than fate? Or karma? Or whatever it was, coming back and erasing all your memories of him to set things right? Because did he ever really deserve you in the first place?

No, definitely not. Not after everything he did.

His legs carried him blindly to the Tipsy Bison. It was a quiet night, and maybe had he been in the right frame of mind, he would have been surprised. Most of the town was cooped up the past couple weeks, under normal circumstances he would have thought it would be busier, but at that moment in time, he didn't care. He only cared about one thing: he needed to forget.

He motioned for Seth and he nodded in acknowledgment before pouring him his usual whiskey and setting it down. Joel snatched it up and immediately downed it with a wince before pushing the empty glass towards Seth.

"Another, please," he muttered before burying his face in his hands with a groan. Seth eyed him suspiciously before pouring his second drink and setting it back down on the bar.

Joel let the glass sit there a few minutes while he stewed in his anger. He wanted to blame you, but he couldn't. Not really. He knew it wasn't your fault but, fuck, he just wanted you back. He was so goddamn lonely that it made his chest hurt. He rubbed it absentmindedly before picking up his glass and forcing himself to take a slow sip. He had already drank too much at Tommy's and if he didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover, he had to slow down.

"Hey, cowboy," a familiar, flirty voice suddenly said from beside him. He tilted his head to the side and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

"Angie."

She smirked and pulled up a tall barstool, scooting her way up with a little grunt that made his stomach clench as he watched her maneuver in her tight jeans.

"What's got you so blue?" she purred as she took a sip from her drink and crossed her legs, her foot coming dangerously close to touching his calf.

"Who said I was blue?" he asked gruffly before taking another swig of whiskey.

She laughed softly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Kind of hard to miss," she said, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him expectantly.

His eyebrows furrowed at her but she noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched and she bit her lip playfully.

"C'mon, what's the matter? You can tell me, baby," she cooed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Don't call me that."

Angie pouted and leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear when she whispered, "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You prefer daddy."

"Knock it off," he growled, turning away from her and ignoring the stirring below his waist, but it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.

She rested her delicate hand on his forearm and his muscles twitched, but he didn't move. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed being touched. And in that moment, any touch would do. She smiled and slid her hand up his arm slowly, and he let her, his eyes fixed somewhere in the opposite direction as he tried with all his might to ignore it, to fight it, to stand up and fucking leave, but he couldn't do it.

"So tense," she murmured in his ear, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can help with that, y'know." Her hand dropped from his shoulder to his lap and had Joel's eyes been open, he would have seen Seth's eyes widen in surprise before looking away. "We're real good at it, remember?" she continued, her fingers inching towards the seam of his jeans. But before she could reach between his legs, his hand grabbed her wrist.

"Stop it," he said weakly, forcing his eyes open to glare at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him and pulled her hand back.

"I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice sultry. "You remember where the ladies' room is, right?" she asked with a wink before sliding off the stool and swinging her hips as she strolled down the hall towards the bathroom. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly.

He wasn't sure how it happened. He wanted to blame the whiskey, he wanted to blame you, but at the end of the day it was all on him when he found himself shoving open the door to the women's room and crowding Angie against the sink, his mouth crashing down on hers hungrily.

It was only one tiny minute of weakness. When he realized his mistake, when he remembered her lips weren't anything compared to yours, when her noises were not the noises he wanted to hear, her touch not the touch he craved, he immediately stopped kissing her, pulling back and cursing under his breath.

Angie looked at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed, then took a step forward but he held up his hand.

"No," he said a bit too loudly, the whiskey making his head swim as he stumbled backwards towards the door. She rolled her eyes and grinned.

"C'mon, Joel. When are you going to realize she's not coming back? You need to move on," Angie said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You deserve to be happy," she added, and he frowned when the enormity of what he had done dawned on him through his drunken haze.

"Stay away from me," he warned her, reaching for the door and yanking it open.

"Fine. But just remember: you followed me in here!" she shouted after him as he disappeared down the hall. He snatched his coat from his barstool and jogged towards the exit.

He had to get home.

The carpet should have been worn to the floorboards by the time Joel finally came back. You had been pacing around the living room, chewing on your fingernails nervously as you replayed the entire evening in your head. The guilt was fucking suffocating you. You couldn't help but feel like you were partially to blame, but you would have broken his heart if you let him kiss you without fully understanding how you felt first, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe once he cooled down, he would understand.

When you heard his slow, heavy footsteps walking up the porch stairs, your heart leapt into your throat. The door creaked open slowly, as if he expected you to be asleep and he was trying to be quiet, but when he closed the door and saw you standing in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself, his face contorted into a grimace.

"You're still up," he said, voice a little raspy as he hung up his coat.

"Joel, I'm so sorry," you began, "I'm just so confused. I'm still trying to work out my feelings but I don't want to rush into something and risk hurting you."

He swallowed and hung his head in shame, unable to look at you.

"Please don't apologize," he whispered, but you kept going.

"Of course I'm going to apologize. I sent you mixed signals and I ended up hurting you anyway."

"I did somethin'," he blurted out, and you froze mid-sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. Silence filled the room, your eyes drifted around aimlessly before you sunk down onto the edge of the couch and tucked your hands under your thighs.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice wavering when you realized he still hadn't looked you in the eye.

He took a steadying breath and propped his hands on his hips, his face still angled shamefully towards the floor. "I kissed someone else."

His words hung heavy in the air, your deep, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room as your tired mind tried to make sense of what he just said.

"What?" you finally asked, voice deathly quiet. He forced himself to look at you now, his dark eyes brimming with tears.

"It was a mistake-" he began, voice thick with emotion, tongue heavy and clumsy between his teeth, but you stopped him.

"Just now?" you asked incredulously, your stomach turning sour. Fighting the nausea back down with a harsh swallow, you spoke again. "You tried to kiss me, I shot you down and you just... went out and found someone else?"

"That's not what I left to do, it just happened-"

"Who?" you asked, your gaze stony as you continued to stare at him, anguish and regret flickering across his face.

"Does it matter?" he tried weakly, softly, but it just pissed you off even more.

"Yes," you hissed, slowly standing back up on now shaky legs. "Who, Joel?"

His throat bobbed and he shifted his weight and when he mumbled Angie's name, you saw red.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you whispered, quickly closing the gap between you and shoving him hard against the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. When he looked you in the eyes, all glassy and cold and distraught, his blood felt like ice in his veins.

He was losing you.

"Please, lemme just explain-"

"What could you possibly have to say?!" you exclaimed, your body growing hot with rage. Hands shaking so badly you had to cross your arms to hide the tremor. "I was taking too long to fuck you so you went out and found a sure thing?"

"I didn't fuck her, but I could've!" he yelled back, an angry vein popping out of his neck at his sudden outburst. Your eyes went wide and you took a step back in surprise. He didn't know why he was yelling. He knew it wouldn't help, but he just snapped. "I never once pressured you to sleep with me! I gave you your space an-and respected your boundaries," he was flailing now, his thoughts scattered as he desperately tried to make sense. "But I'm a human fuckin' being and I got drunk and I was lonely and I made a fuckin' mistake! And I'm sorry, alright?!"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're lonely," you repeated, the words like poison on your tongue, and he frowned. "What about me? I'm lonely, too! You know what the first question is out of everyone's mouth ever since my accident?" you asked, glaring up at him, anger rolling off both your bodies. "They ask me how you're doing. You! Like this was some tragedy that only happened to you! But I lost fucking everything in the blink of an eye!" Tears began to burn the backs of your eyes now but you pushed on. "My world literally turned upside down in an instant and everyone just kept waiting for me to get with the program, including you!"

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head angrily, "I never pressured you to do anythin'!"

"It's the way you look at me!" you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You don't even realize you're doing it but you keep looking at me, expecting to find the woman you fell in love with but she's gone, Joel!"

You both fell silent, staring at one another, shoulders heaving as you each sat with the weight of your words.

"I don't care," he finally said, lowering his voice. "I still love you. I told you that first day. What we got is rare and special and I'm not givin' up on us."

"Then how could you go kiss someone else the first time there's a bump in the road?" you asked, tone hurt and dejected, then you turned and headed up the stairs.

"I told you, it was a mistake," he pleaded, following you. "I'm so sorry... wait, what're you doin'?" he asked when he realized he had followed you into your room. You were snatching clothes from the drawers and tossing them onto your bed, and that's when he really began to panic.

"I can't stay here," you said, disappearing into the bathroom. His vision narrowed and his legs became weak as fear flooded his veins.

"No," he whispered, but you didn't hear him. You were busy gathering a few toiletries from the bathroom and tossing them on the bed along with your clothes, but when you walked past him to get a bag, he grabbed your arm.

"Don't do this," he begged. You yanked your arm out of his grip and stepped back, glaring at him and he realized in that moment he would rather have you there screaming at him for the rest of the night than not have you there at all, so he kept talking. He kept pushing.

"Y'know, for someone who says she doesn't have feelin's for me, you sure seem to be pretty pissed off," he glowered, and your eyes widened. That's it, he thought, let me have it. "If you don't want me, if you don't give a shit 'bout me, then what the hell does it matter if someone else does?"

You gasped, his words like a punch to the gut. Like a blade to your heart. Without thinking, your arm swung back and your palm cracked loudly against his cheek, stunning you both into silence.

He wanted to rub the spot, to help soothe the pain with the tips of his fingers, but he resisted. Instead, he let his cheek redden so you were forced to see what you did.

"You think I don't give a shit about you?" you seethed once you found your voice, palm stinging at your side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his cheek.

"Sure seems that way," he countered, and your jaw clenched angrily as the next round of tears began to well up.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yelled, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "How dare you. You made me give a shit about you, you asshole!"

You shoved past him and headed down the hall to the spare room in search of a duffel bag, but Joel was hot on your trail. If he let you leave, he would never get you back.

"The hell does that even mean?"

You whipped around, making him stumble backwards, your eyes wild and bloodshot. "You told me you would make me fall in love with you again! This whole time we've been getting to know each other, building up our relationship and you think after all that, after everything we've shared, that I don't give a shit about you?"

"Well-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I took care of you when you were sick. I sat next to your bed for a full week, waiting for you to fall asleep, making sure you had everything you needed," you said, your voice growing quiet as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. "You told me about your daughter. I told you about my brother," you whimpered, your voice cracking on the last word. Joel's face fell when he finally realized how broken you were, the full weight of his actions realized. "How could you say that to me?" you sobbed, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks hot and wet in your palms. Your head ached. Your heart ached. You needed this to end.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," he told you, stepping forward and pulling you into his arms. You only let yourself melt against his broad chest for a moment before you sniffled and pushed him away. Turning around, you snatched the bag from the ground and stormed past him.

"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded as he followed you back into your room.

"You can't."

His head was pounding, throat scratchy and dry as he watched you pack from the doorway, his chest tightening with each article of clothing that passed through your hands.

"Please. Stay. I-I-I won't even talk to you if that's what you want, just please stay."

You paused, your eyes squeezing shut as you silently cried over your bag. "You want me to stay, Joel?" you asked, voice trembling, and even though weren't looking, he nodded.

"I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly, and you opened your eyes. Reaching for your journal, you flipped it open to a well worn page and tossed it on the bed. He frowned at it, confused, but stepped forward and picked it up.

"Then tell me what you lied about."

His eyes scanned the page, reading the four words over and over. Joel lied to me. No context, but he didn't need any. He knew.

You could see the conflict in his face as he tried to figure out a way around it.

"The truth. Or I'm gone," you said firmly, and when his eyes flicked up to yours, you saw fear.

He slowly turned around, the journal held delicately in his massive hands, as he sat down onto the edge of your mattress.

"Okay."

The shock made your tears slow to a stop.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he repeated, his tone somber as he stared down at your journal in his lap. "What's the difference now, anyway? You already hate me."

I don't hate you, you thought, but you remained silent.

"If I tell you, you promise not to leave?" he clarified, and you thought about it for a moment. What if it was something really bad? But you knew you wouldn't get the truth out of him any other way, so you nodded. You figured if you still left and ended up becoming a liar, then at least you would be even.

"I told you 'bout the Fireflies," he began, and you got the feeling the story was going to be long so you sat down on the bed.

"Yes."

"You, Ben 'n Lisa were all part of a group out in Salt Lake City," he said, his gaze pinned on the journal. "In a hospital. Doin' research."

"Research? I don't know anything about-"

"You weren't doin' the research. The three of you were just guards. Patrolmen. There were doctors there, and they were lookin' for a cure," he continued, then took a deep breath before lifting his chin and staring at a fixed point on your wall.

"Did they find one?" you asked, remembering that first day when Joel told you about the outbreak. You had asked him at the time if there was cure and he said no. That couldn't be the lie, could it?

"Well, they were close," he said, his brow pinching together. "This next part is somethin' that's gotta stay in this house, y'hear me?" he asked, finally turning to look at you. "Y'gotta promise me that no matter what you end up thinkin' of me, you can't tell anyone 'bout this part."

You didn't want to make that promise. Why would you, after everything he had put you through? But, still, you found yourself nodding slowly, then his next sentence knocked all the air from your lungs.

"Ellie's immune."

Your lips slowly parted as the shock coursed through you, your eyes slowly drifting down to the comforter. Your mind was blank except for Ellie's immune, Ellie's immune playing on a constant loop.

"It's why you didn't write anythin' else, I reckon," he explained, holding up your journal. "Didn't want anyone to find it."

You slowly began to put the pieces together. A research hospital. Ellie's immunity. They were close to a cure.

"The Fireflies thought they could use Ellie to create a vaccine," he said after a long pause. "And I took her to 'em. Took her right into the lion's den," he said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't realize til after they took her that they would've had to... kill her to get what they needed."

Your eyes darted up to meet his again as you listened, entranced.

"Nobody knows, okay?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. "Only Tommy. No one else can know. Her life depends on it, d'you understand?"

You nodded, still unable to find your voice, so he continued.

"When I realized what they were doin', that they would have to kill her, I just..." he trailed off and scratched his chin, looking away, eyes distant. "I lost it. It's the only way to describe it."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I killed alotta people," he said, voice cold and detatched, "alotta fuckin' people. Whoever got in my way, I just... didn't think twice. 'Til you."

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting you were somewhere in that hospital.

"Me?" you squeaked.

"You didn't see my face," he said, his voice beginning to shake. "None of you did. The three of you were together. You surrendered. Had you face down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Told me you were plannin' on ditchin' the Fireflies anyway. That you wouldn't come after me." His hand trembled in his lap and he made a fist.

"You weren't the first ones to say that to me, but you were the first ones I let live."

You pressed your palms into your face, trying to quell the ache behind your eyes as you rocked gently back and forth on the bed, heart thundering in your chest, blooding pumping too fast. The exhaustion was too much. You could hardly make sense of what he was saying.

"You almost killed me," you said, more of a statement than a question, your voice muffled through your hands.

"Yeah." He watched you carefully, trying to read you, desperately searching for some small glimmer of hope underneath all your rage and confusion.

"Then what?" you forced yourself to ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He ticked his jaw to the side and looked away.

"Then... Ellie 'n me came here. Started over. Tried to forget," he sniffed, pulling at a loose string on his shirt. "Then the three of you showed up couple months later. Scared the fuckin' shit outta me, but none of you seemed to recognize me."

"Because we never saw you," you said, and he nodded.

"I didn't speak to you for over a month. I was so scared you'd recognize my voice or somethin', but I just couldn't stay away from you," he said, his eyes softening now. "Then that night at the bar happened. When you came up to me and-"

"Yeah, I remember what you told me," you replied, not eager to relive that story at the moment.

"Then the rest is history. We started messin' around. You didn't know who I was for a few months, then I finally told you."

"After you were already fucking me," you said coldly, and he winced.

"After I fell in love with you."

You sat back and rubbed your eyes. You had so many questions. What was your reaction when you first learned who he was? If you stuck around, you must have seen something in Joel that made you feel safe. Why did he spare you? Was it only because you couldn't identify him? And how much did Ellie know?

"Please say somethin'," he begged after a few tense, quiet minutes.

"What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your shoulders sagging forward, limbs too heavy. "You want me to forgive you? You want me to say I understand?" He shook his head but you kept talking.

"You spared my life just to break my heart."

He turned away from you as his face crumpled. "I'm gonna fix it," he said, his throat tight and voice thick as he fought off the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "I'm gonna make it right, if you just-"

"Can you go, please?" you asked quietly, "I have nothing else to say and I'm fucking tired."

He looked over at you but you refused to look up, your puffy eyes fixed blankly on the floor. His gaze drifted to the bag and clothes littering your bed and he asked, "Are you stayin'?"

You didn't answer. You just slowly stood up and flung your comforter back, some of your clothes falling into a heap on the floor but you didn't care as you crawled into bed and turned your back to him.

Begrudgingly, he stood. His eyes flicked around your room nervously, his fingers fidgeting at his sides while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to come up with the right words to say.

"Go!" you sobbed from underneath your blankets, hiding from him the tears that were soaking your sheets.

So, he left. Not because he wanted to, but because he caused you enough agony for one night, and as much as he wanted to stay and beg on his knees for forgiveness, it would be the selfish thing to do. Instead, he went to his bed and stared at the ceiling, barely sleeping the entire night because his body jerked awake at every little creak the old house made, wondering when he woke up, if you would be gone for good.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending 😘

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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vanesycho · 5 months ago

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Summary:You complain about your gamer boyfriend but Haechan proves to you that his fast fingers aren't just for gaming.

Warning:Smut, fingering, pussy eating

wc:0,9k

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You walked into Haechan's room and called out to him, rolling your eyes as you realized he couldn't hear you and walked over to him. Noticing a figure next to him, Haechan glanced at you for a moment before quickly turning back to his computer. “Yes, baby?” you crossed your arms, "I've been calling you for dinner for about five minutes, when you still haven't come I got worried, it turns out you were playing games." A few seconds passed, he was so focused on the screen that he ran your sentences through his head for a while and then he replied, "Oh sorry love but I have to finish this, five more minutes."

You let out a deep breath and sat on the bed behind him and waited for him.Your eyes caught the screen, after watching the game he was playing for a while, your eyes caught his hands.His fingers were tapping quickly on the keyboard, he had rings on some of his fingers and you thought that made him even more attractive. You swallowed as thoughts came to your mind as you continued to look at your fingers. After a few minutes, Haechan turned to you, his hand resting on the keyboard, he opened his mouth to say something but he realized your eyes were on his fingers and he just stood there with his mouth open. He looked where your eyes landed and grinned, running his tongue in his mouth. “Come here.”

You took your eyes off his fingers and looked at him, he patted his desk a few times with his hand. You stood up and walked towards him, Haechan walked towards you as well, making you sit at his desk. “Your game...is still not finished.” He grinned, spreading your legs, grateful that you were wearing only his shirt, and easily moved his hand between your legs to your pussy. "I was going to continue the game but I realized how naughty my girlfriend. Looking at my hands huh? Just say you want to feel them, baby." He easily inserted two fingers inside you, you let out a moan, his smile widened, with his other hand he took off his glasses and started kissing your lips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his fingers curling inside you, entered fastly, you moaned into his mouth, then he pulled back. "Good? Or..."

You held your breath for a moment as he pushed another finger inside you. “Fuck-” he liked your reaction, reached for your neck, you felt his wet kisses. "Hm...You're so out of breath even just for my fingers. Are you that needy? How cute." You threw your head back and moaned. Haechan took this opportunity to continue his kisses, leaving deep moans and breaths in your ear, driving you even wilder.

He grabbed your leg with his free hand and made you wrap it around his waist, "Hyuck..I'm close.. Please-" He slowed down his movements, with that, you whined. He chuckled and looked at your face. “Are you going to complain again?” you rolled your eyes. “You call that a complaint? You’re the one who’s been sneaking out of your room and playing games for hours.” He looked into your eyes seriously, leaned closer to your lips and whispered, "I was thinking you might have changed your mind. Haven't I fucked you with my fingers enough yet?"

He pulled his fingers out of you, and when your pleasure was cut short, you pressed your legs together. "You're bastard." he laughed hysterically "Oh yeah? That bastard was just fucking you with his fingers. Get on the bed, Y/n. Don't make me mad." When he saw that you weren't getting up, he locked eyes with you. Grabbed your wrist and made you lie down on the bed, rolling up your shirt.

He put two fingers in your pussy, you let out a moan of pleasure, he leaned in and started licking your clit. His fingers started moving quickly inside her, he didn't slow down, he was sucking and licking with his tongue.The pleasure from both sides has reached a level that will make you scream.The wetness of your pussy drove Haechan crazy and he let out a moan, "Such a naughty but have beautiful pussy." The pleasure inside you increased, you moaned tearfully, your pussy tightened, even with two fingers it was this good. "Fuck- I'm close..so close, please.."

Haechan didn’t stop, he continued to fuck you with his fingers and tongue, your breathing increased, how you were moaning echoed in his ears. He could feel you getting closer as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. But it didn't last long, he stopped his movements and sucked your clit one last time.You muttered a curse and looked at him. He lifted his head, smirking, “Oh you look so wasted, I’d love to make you cum and see how much I could ruin you but..” He pulled his fingers out of you, licked the areas covered in your juices, and got up from the bed. “Fuck Hyuck, are you gonna leave me like this?” He laughed and turned to you. “You’re the one who complained about me not coming to dinner a moment ago, and now you’re telling me not to go to dinner?" you watched him leave the room, letting out a loud whimper as the door closed behind him, Haechan heard you from behind the door and grinned to himself and headed towards the kitchen. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy and he was going to show you after dinner.

#nct imagines #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 imagines #haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan imagines #nct haechan #nct 127 smut #haechan #haechan x you

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roturo · 2 years ago

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CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: sex pollen, old lovers meet again.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering.

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, sex pollen, mating press, breeding kink, marking, fingering & oral (f receiving), mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, mention of weight loss (but it's never specified how much or the weight of the reader exactly, neither a body type), hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

A/N: I'm really proud of this one, might even do pt2 if it gets support. -Words: 3.4k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

¨And you know what I hate most of all that shit he put me through?, He-¨

¨Can you please stop talking about Dick Y/N? It's been MONTHS, damn it! almost a year! You're driving me nuts! I'm not even Dick's ex, or friend and I already hate him as much as you do. So let's move on.¨

¨You don't understand, I was a good girlfriend! Shit! I even became a hero for him! Now look where we are.¨

Harley laughs at your remark of how the tables have turned.

Both of you were sitting at the top of a building eating some ice-cream, which Harley insisted on steal from a random kid on the street, after robbing some random store she liked a collar from, you were now looking at how police officers where trying to look for a culpable of this crime.

It's been 11 months and 5 days since Dick broke up with you. You couldn't AND still don't understand why he did it, both of you were fine one day and the next one he decided, 'oh how could I destroy the woman of my dreams heart?, I know how! What if I tell her I don't need her anymore in my life and she's useless! then some months later fuck some fire princess and act like i'm a new person with this new suit and name! oh! also, re-do the titans! when my ex helped me do the og ones, helped when the fell apart but she's useless anyways!'

To say you weren't deep down for him, would be a lie. You don't know how he could keep laughing everyday knowing how his little trauma ass dumped you like trash. Well, if you're being honest he doesn't have a small ass, but that doesn't matter.

¨Aw, I want more ice-cream¨ Coming back to earth after some deep thoughts, Harley grabbed you by the wrists in order to change up and start looking some restaurant for dinner.

After changing clothes and Harley talking about how obsessed she´s with the Joker, you couldn't quite blame her, both of you were finally walking on the street, laughing at some random inside joke both of you had.

¨Huh.¨ Your phone started ringing and you could swear if it wasn't cold enough to freeze you up, the call was. ¨Who is it?¨ Harley asked, sneaking through your shoulder.

¨OH! Donna?, the cute girl you talked about?¨

¨Shhh, let me attend this call... Hello? Donna?¨

¨Y/N, um- hello! How are you? It's been what? one year since we don't talk?¨ ¨I'm... fine. How about you?¨

You were quite confused for this call, on the outside you're calm, but inside, you're freaking out.

¨I'm good, it's nice to hear you're doing fine!¨ ¨Thank you Donna, but I know you just don't call to ask how i'm doing, what's wrong?¨ ¨Oh well, you quite know me well Y/N, i'm sorry it seemed that way, but you're like the only person I know who could help us with some medical issues, you know? So I wanted to ask you if you could come and help us to deal with Conner, and maybe stay some days...? i'll explain you who he is and all of that later.¨ ¨Donna, you know i'm not longer on the me-¨

Harley pinched you in the arm, trying to talk but you were faster. ¨Ow Harley! Stop it!¨ You told your best friend in a whisper so Donna couldn't hear the both of you, also covering the microphone of your phone, for... extra precautions.

¨You don't understand! This is an awesome opportunity! You're going undercover in the titans tower! Imagine how crazy Jack (Jocker) would be! Say yes!¨

Thinking it for a few seconds, she was right, you could get some important information from them, it was indeed, an awesome plan.

¨Who knows, you might also see bird-boy again!¨ She said raising her eyebrows in a teasing way making you roll your eyes.

¨Y/N? Are you still there?¨

¨Yes, when do you need me to be there?¨

¨Erm... now if it's possible¨

You were now unpacking your suitcase, Donna told you to pack for at least a month, isn't that incredible?

You haven't come across any of the other titans, beside, Donna, Dawn, Gar, Rachel, Jason and Rose... Quite interesting team.

You didn't introduced well to the kids since you were in a hurry to enter your temporary room and not ran into someone else...

While you were unpacking your old tools Wayne gave you while you were their medical support 'hero' maybe also because you were a med student, you still helped with fights, bruises and hits.

You found the 'special' bandages you had for Dick, since the 'normal ones weren't soft enough for his bruises' a small smile appeared on your face at those old memories.

Now unpacking your clothes, you found three special lingerie underwear with a note from Harley:

'Just in case you have some fun ;)

xx Harley~'

The note made you roll your eyes but you couldn't deny it brighten your mood, throwing away the not and putting aside the 'Harley present', you continued unpacking your clothes, you brought in a separate case for your suit, just in case.

¨Y/N! Can you come here?¨

¨Coming!¨ maybe you could order the clothes other time.

When you entered the living room, the kids were no longer there, except Jason.

They started explaining you what happened between Deathstroke and what they know about Conner, you were paying attention to know what you're dealing with, you haven't even realize Dick came in sight until Dawn mentioned it.

But Dick didn't came alone, he was next fire princess which you couldn't care less to investigate her name when you found out about Dick meeting her.

¨Oh Dick! We brought Y/N so she could help us with Conner, since we don't have anyone else who knows about this weird medical stuff.¨ They know what happened between you two, and they still decided to ask for your help knowing he's going to be here.

You stood up from the sofa, eyes locking with his, you couldn't longer see the coldness in his eyes, but there wasn't warm either, you couldn't quite decipher what he's feeling.

¨Kory¨ She gave you her hand at which you responded with your name and doing the same. You locked eyes with her for a brief moment, a small smirk appeared in your face but disappeared once the greeting finished.

¨Y/N.¨ You locked eyes with him, a tension only the two of you could feel. You were different, much prettier, you lose some weight too, blame it on the break-up depression, but you were shining.

¨Grayson.¨ Hearing you say his last name instead of his name he could feel a small part of him getting shattered inside him, you changed.

After checking on Conner and taking some notes, it was finally night time, you were eating some cereal, knowing more about Gar and Rachel, Kory, Dawn, Donna and Robin were dressed up with their suits.

¨We have some issues to deal tonight with another troublemaker, nothing serious though, just a one night problem.¨ Dick announced while getting ready to go out.

¨Y/N, you should come! Maybe warm out a little like the old times." Dawn invited you, how nice of her, only if she knew you were also a troublemaker.

¨No thank you, i'm only here for medical support.¨ You gave her a small smile and said your goonights.

Some knocking in your door woke you up, it only passes one hour since you went asleep and they're already annoying you, first day!

¨Y/N? Are you awake?¨ You heard Dawn saying though the door.

¨Mmh¨ You replied.

¨We need you, it's Dick.¨

Even more annoying.

You walked next Dawn through the halls until you finally came into Dick´s room. Inside they were Donna and Kory, clearly concerned about his well being.

His behavior seemed, weird, there wasn’t any bruises or cuts, not even blood. He was just twisting in pain on his bed. You stepped closer to him, and got your hand on top of his forehead at which he only whined, that scared you, since it sounded more like a moan than a whine. He was hot, sweating and moving a lot.

You had your suspicions what this could be, but you needed to confirm it, this can't be real.

¨Can you please... tell me with which villain you fought with?¨

¨Ivy¨ Donna said.

Shit.

¨I need to make a call¨ you quickly said running out of the room.

¨Surprise, surprise!¨ Harley said in her taunting tone. ¨Oh my god Harley, I can't believe you.¨ ¨Well, you know a girl needs to help her best friend, so... I called another friend and voilà!¨ ¨What am I supposed to do? I don't have the fucking cure for sex pollen Harley! I owe you one, can't believe Ivy did this for me.¨ ¨You just said it, sex. C´mon Y/N!, it's your moment to play with him! He had you like a sad girl, why don't turn her into a mad girl? Make him cry for you. Break his heart like he did with you.

You ended the call, and just in time, Kory came. ¨Y/N, we need you Dick keeps talking about you and rambling about some stupid things.¨ You could sense a strange behavior from her, like if she just discovered something big.

Watching Dick twisting in pain and saying your name in just some black briefs felt good. You can't lie to yourself Harley was right.

¨It's sex pollen¨ You admitted.

¨And what's the cure? Do you have it? That's why you made the call?¨ Donna asked.

¨No, the only cure for it it's well... sex. The pollen might last for at-least 3 days or even a week, symptoms are well... extremely high sex-drive, dehydration, high temperatures, and... I think that's all.¨

Donna chuckled at what happened to Dick, ¨Let's go girls, let's leave this to Kory.¨ Dawn just laughed at a very shocked and blushed Kory, ¨Don't be like that Donna, Kory and Dick haven't confirmed anything yet.¨ You felt your jaw clenching, but decided to act calm, and when all of you were almost leaving, you were stopped.

¨No. I want her.¨ Dick said, pointing towards you. All of you stayed quiet at the sudden confession. You were shocked to say at least, blood rushing to your cheeks, you were about to leave that damn room until you remembered what Harley said.

Cry for me.

Donna grabbed your shoulder, looking at you. ¨You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable.¨

¨No. It's okay, i'm in.¨

After mentally preparing yourself, bringing some water bottles into the room, they left you alone with him.

You sat next to him on his bed, memories came back flying around the both of you.

¨Look, I know that-¨ He completely cut you off when he started kissing you, making you lay down on the bed, you left a small moan when he broke the kiss for a moment.¨Oh my god, you don't know how much I wanted to kiss you again.¨

Did he missed you? Every question that came to your mind was easily erased when he started kissing and sucking your neck while unbuckling your jeans and taking them down with your underwear, he pulled apart to admire the bruises he left, he grabbed your panties and threw them to his nightstand.

He started kissing your thighs, making small pauses on each to make sure he's marking you as his again. Every time he went higher until he gave a small peck on your clit. ¨I can't wait to taste you sweetheart.¨ There it is... the nickname.

He got your legs over his shoulders and gave a testing long lick on your pussy, teasing your hole. At which he started sucking your clit once he heard the high pitched moan you did when he teases your hole.

His started spelling his name with his tongue on your pussy at which it only made you hornier, suddenly he inserted his index finger inside you. Dick sped up, fingers now flicking in and out of you at light speed, nose pressed into your clit, and before you knew it you were cumming, shuddering on his mouth, crying out his name. Quickly he took all the remaining clothes from you and him, now both of you completely naked for each-other.

He was rock hard. No, scratch that, his cock looked like it was made of fucking ruby. Red and painful and already half-soaked with pre-cum.

He pressed your legs impossibly closer to your torso, moving down to meet your eyes, until you were folded in half beneath him, legs on his shoulders, putting you into a—

Oh.

This was going to be a long night.

He fell on his forearms, and you wondered how much more you could take- He laced his fingers on top of your head, thumbs on your forehead, holding you still. He mumbled out another gonna make you feel s’ good before pounding you in earnest, practically bouncing you both on his mattress. His balls smacked against your ass, and the feeling was so damn satisfying that he just had to go harder. You would sport matching bruises tomorrow, his hips on your ass. You pushed out moans in time with his unforgiving pace, a metronome playing the beat to which his sanity danced away from him.

“More?” He sounded fucking pathetic, like he was asking himself that, his voice octaves higher than it usually was, but he didn’t care. “More, you little slut? That what you want? You want more?”

“I’ll give you more,” he babbled, “More, baby, give you more give you everythin’ gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for weeks.”

He’s not too worried about hurting you—you’re already so wet—more that he’s afraid he’ll cum the second he starts moving again. Out of his previous partners, he doesn’t think any of them have felt this good around him.

“Please-” a strand of incomprehensible begs and pleads leaves his mouth when he starts thrusting into you again.

¨Shit- how are you even tighter huh? You've been keeping this tight pussy just for me?¨ He's a whiny mess, small kisses every time he cans, praises here and there.

“Mmm yes please yes please yesyesyesss—” was all you could manage. He laughed at you, breathless, and you wondered how he could keep up this pace and still rattle off incredibly filthy little comments, looking right in your eyes.

“You’d like that? Yeah? Gon’ look so pretty, little baby, so pretty full of my child, yeah? All round and glowing and heavy with me. All of ’em will look at you and see me, all me, see that I did that. You want that? You want that you want that—”

He leans forward to coo praise into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the stairwell. Sometime during this his teeth find the soft muscle of your neck, leaving a crescent shape mark that’ll certainly bruise in the morning.

You're pretty sure everyone on this tower have heard the both of you fucking like rabbits by now, but knowing this was going to follow him his whole life, with the memories of him fucking you every way possible just so you could leave him, it's all you need to don't care about that.

The first time he cums, he doesn’t even realize he has. He shudders. It felt good—a bit too good—but nothing out of the ordinary. It makes him do a double take. His cock doesn’t even go soft. Drips of cum run down your thighs, pooling on the bed-sheets beneath you.

His thumb traces circles around your clit, moving in erratic, uneven motions. Dick leans back down for another kiss. You can taste yourself on him, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him to your chest. The two of you can only fuck and cum until you’re too exhausted to continue. You’ve never felt so full. The thought of using protection crossed your mind once—and only for a moment—the pollen leaving you too desperate to care.

Second day and he wouldn't give you a break to nap for a minute.

His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body and hands gripping your shoulders. “Mmm fuck baby,” Dick muttered into your mouth, your moans coming out of you almost breathless. “Yeah, yeahyeahyeah milk me fucking milk my cock gonna cum in you fuck a baby, my baby into you and you’re gonna fucking take it take it nnngh —”

He buried his face into your neck, teeth latching on to skin, biting down to draw blood, a choked groan as he came, really came, his balls squeezing painfully, a deep ache in his gut, indescribable tingles all along his cock, his spine, down to the soles of his feet.

Third day, and you started getting him where you wanted it.

“Sensitive,” you hissed, “Sensitive, Dick, you insatiable—”

“Insatiable is right,” he said to you, eyes wide, still looking like you just told him the Earth was flat. He towered over you, kneeling now, and with horror and a bit of something else you felt how hard he still was.

¨I missed you so much, the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you.¨

Fourth day he started getting sensitive but that didn't stopped him, and he was a little more languid, strokes slow and smooth, his thighs shaking just a bit as exhaustion started to settle in. His cum was spreading in a pool on the sheets now, and you couldn’t bring yourselves to be even a little disgusted. He loved it. He loved so much how it felt that tears dropped from his eyes every-time he felt that electric shock come to him when he was about to come. He was crying for you.

Last day. Fifth day. Barely even thrusting anymore, just a slow grind of his hips, the friction and the pressure and the raw sensation squeezing out what could have been an orgasm if only both of you were awake enough to feel it.

When you both woke up the next day, he was staring at you, straddling your hair, and that's when you knew it.

¨Good morning sweetheart.¨

You just answered with a small ¨hey¨

¨I never through of seeing you laying next to me again, it felt like home. I'm sorry I did that to you, you don't know how much I regret it, please, give me a second chance.¨

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you grabbed some shirt of his, long enough to cover yourself and went back to your room, stumbling and shaking someway you made it. You changed yourself, taking a minute to observe how he marked you, it was time.

You went back to his room, already changed, you gave him a smile and sat on the bed with him, with no emotion behind your eyes, it was your time.

¨You were ready to leave me for her.¨ Confusion, first stage he made you go through.

¨I was doing fine, really, but then you walked again into my life again and fucked me up.¨ Sadness and lies. Second stage.

¨You think this will make me stay?¨ You signaled the both of you. ¨You think with just some stupid sex to heal you is enough of an apology?¨ A laugh escaped your mouth. ¨You thought this was real?¨

¨You know for a fucking fact this wasn't supposed to happen.¨ You got your hand on top of his, faking a caring smile looking at him.

¨When friends of yours make jokes about how you always leave them, you think it's funny, but it's not. That hurts a lot, actually.¨

You got up from the bed and stepped closer to the door, you paused for a second and turned around to see a hurt Dick naked on the bed with just some blanket covering him.

¨And Dick... Of course I still love you, if it wasn't for me, I would go crying and throwing myself into your arms again.¨

¨You still can.¨ He tried.

¨No.¨ You chuckled. ¨I won't let myself get hurt again. Our love isn't worth the fight. Goodbye Dick Grayson.¨

4K notes · View notes

citrus-writing · 4 months ago

Note

noncon pussy eating phantom troupe ( + Hisoka if its possible) headcanons pls🫦

Thank you so much for asking! i'm so surprised so many people were interested in this!

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yanderes who eat their darling out for their own pleasure, they cant get enough of their beloved darling, want to taste you all the time-

Chrollo-

Chrollo is obsessed with you, and of course, the faces and sounds you make for him when he kneels between your legs are no exception. He’s devoted to the task, almost worshiping you with his tongue and lips, determined to hear every little sound he can pull from your lips.

For a long while in your captivity in his home, he fantasizes about how you must taste, what faces you’d make, the little noises he’s so sure you’d make- but he leaves it a fantasy, because he doesn't want to scare you away. You’re inching closer to him with time, and he’s sure that if you knew the kind of things he was thinking you’d shrink away from him again, and he can't let that happen. But lately, you’ve been so tempting- wearing the little dresses he picks for you, short enough he can see the underwear he’d picked for you as well if you bent over even slightly. Everything about you makes him crazy, nearly desperate for a taste of what’s between your legs- what he’s sure is the most perfect pussy, made for him, just for him.

So don't be surprised when he tells you to lie back on the bed and spread your legs- of course he’d taken the evening to soothe you into it. Your favorite food for dinner, your favorite movie on the tv, his arms around you all the while. His lips on yours- till your breathing heavy- his hands moving over your clothes to squeeze and toy with your chest. But it’s not nearly enough.

The look in his eyes tells you that there’s no getting out of this one, so you nervously lie back like he asked. “My love, what did I just ask from you?” he asks, nodding at your closed thighs. You struggle to fight the shame and embarrassment as you open your legs for him.

He’s so romantic about it, taking his time to kiss and bite up your thighs, hands holding your hips still for him. He pulls your panties off slowly, making you whine in shame, but he’s convinced himself that you’re just as eager as he is. “Good girl.”

Uvogin-

Uvogin wastes no time at all in taking what he wants from you, and this is no exception. He’s imagined it so many times, has worked his fantasy over and over in his mind. He lays back on the bed, pulling you over him and manhandling you into the position he wants you in- kneeling over his face, wet folds hovering inches from his mouth.

“Go ahead, baby, sit on down.” he encourages. His big hands are squeezing at your ass, your thighs, like he’s desperate to just feel you. You hesitate, looking for a way out of this, but of course once he’s made up his mind about something you know there’s no changing his mind. He looks up at you expectantly, “don't make me repeat myself,” and he says it with humor but it sends terror through you. You take a shaky breath and allow yourself to ease down, but it must be too slow for his liking because he grabs you by the hips to force your body down.

The feeling of his tongue against your folds has you jolting from the shock, and maybe pleasure, but you don't want to admit that to yourself. It’s impossible to ignore how skilled he is with his tongue, something you’ve noticed when he’d kiss you, but something that is uncomfortably obvious right now, with you sat above him like this. He groans against you, the vibrations of his deep voice making you gasp, making you let out a tiny little noise of pleasure. He seems to like the sound, because he grows more eager- pushing his tongue inside you, lapping into you with a kind of hunger you hadn't expected.

Illumi-

Illumi isn't sure what about you has him so enamored- your smile? Your laugh? They way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love? He wouldn't be able to answer that if he was asked. But he knows what’s holding his attention right now. He can't pull his eyes away from your sleeping form next to him in the bed, blankets tossed off you and nightgown ridden up to reveal the underwear you're wearing. He’s seen you in less, of course, but something about this is different- you're unaware, completely at ease, all spread out for him to touch.

He trails a hand down the contour of your waist, fingertips ghosting along the curve of your hip bone, letting himself touch the lace you're wearing. You dont wake up, only moving slightly when he first places his hand on your skin, but you remain peacefully asleep.

He traces up and down the fabric with his index and middle fingers, teasing you and feeling your underwear grow damp at the sensation. You’re perfect- he tells you so all the time- but you’re absolutely perfect. He lets him dip under the waistline of your underwear, training his fingers down to gather up the slick gathering between your legs.

You're starting to stir, moving a bit more, mumbling something incoherent. “Darling, go back to sleep.” he soothes. You mumble again, “illumi?” It seems sleep hasn't let go of you just yet, not really awake to realize your situation. When he brushes against your clit, you’re forced awake all at once with a desperate yelp. “Shh, you’re alright. I just want a taste of you.”

Yanderes who eat out their darling in some kind of deranged attempt to make their darling feel good, to make their darling want them, beg for them-

Nobunaga-

Nobunaga is a delusional type of yandere, one who can convince himself that you want him the way he wants you. And he wants you all the time, anyway he can have you.whether it’s pining you down to the bed, forcing you to your knees in front of him, or spreading your legs to touch and taste your most sensitive places, he’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

Even when you struggle and shake, begging him not to, he just smiles at you with this soft look that makes you sick- he doesn't believe you. And how could he believe you don't want him when his fingers already have you so wet, dripping down his hands and down your thighs. He knows you want him as badly as he wants you, you must, by the way you whimper for him. Maybe someday you’ll be able to admit how badly you need him, but for tonight he won't force you to admit it. “You’re so good for me, aren't you?” he soothes, even as you continue to tremble.

He pulls your legs further apart and settles his face between them, kissing at your thighs, licking at the slick gathered there. Licking up up up, towards his real prize. You’re all he wants, to touch you, taste you, feel you tremble when you cum from his tongue deep inside you. “I can't wait to taste you.” and, as if to prove his point, he drags the tip of his tongue across your entrance, not quite allowing himself to dip inside. No, he’s going to take his time with you.

Hisoka-

He’s always used you however he saw fit, taking anything he desired from you, because you were helpless to whatever he’d do to you. Most nights, that means carrying you to his bedroom- or the nearest surface, if he couldn't wait that long- before pinning you down and having his way with you. Hisoka is never a gentle lover, not even when he taunts you about how much worse he could be, but he does care for your pleasure- even if it’s only for his own satisfaction.

That’s how you found yourself here, with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his hands keeping your hips still as you tried to fight and thrash. Of all the things he’s done to you, none have been so personal, so vulnerable.

You want to be quiet so badly, but the way his tongue delves into you makes it difficult, even more so when he moans against you, sending vibrations up your body. It forces a little sound from you- a desperate little cry of pleasure, and no matter how much you don't want to believe it, it’s because it feels good. You don't want to be here- in his arms, in his bed, in his home- but the feeling of his hot mouth on you is so good you feel yourself getting almost lost in it. The sounds you made seem to excite him, and that thought makes you almost sick. He pulls away from you for a moment, looking up into your eyes, “are you enjoying yourself?” he’s taunting you, you know that. Before you can answer, he uses two fingers to spread you open, making you squirm. “Dont lie, darling, i want to hear how good it feels.”

Phinks-

Of course you’re scared, he knows that- you’ve made it very apparent, much to his annoyance. But it takes everything in him not to just take what he wants from you. And he could- that’s the thing, he knows he could do anything to you. It’s maddening, trying to coax you into trusting him, into coming nearer to him, into loving him. He promised himself he’d wait, and to be fair, he’s half honest about that. He won't take everything he needs from you, he just needs a taste, that’ll be more than enough.

You’ve struggled your hardest, twisting around in his grasp for what felt like eternity, and now you’ve worn yourself out. It’d be pitiful if you didn't look so good under him, already out of breath, and finally- finally- plaint under him. He wastes only a second or two looking at your face before his hands move to remove your clothes. It’s agony not to fuck you, it’s all he really wants to do, but he reminds himself that he’d promised himself he’d settle for just the sight of your body and the taste of you.

You're tense at first, when he pulls down your underwear and leans forward, bringing his face closer to you. You dont beg him not to, and he takes that as some kind of consent, though he’s not quite delusional enough to believe that. He feels you relax as he kisses your thigh, taking a moment to say “that’s right, just relax. I’ve got you.” before finally indulging in you the way he’s wanted to. He hears your breath hitch a little when he kisses just over where you want him. Your hands grip at the sheets, and he can hardly hold back enough to mumble, “I've waited so long for this.”

Yanderes who eat out their darling as a form of punishment, making you beg and cry as they force you over the edge over and over-

Feitan-

Feitan has trouble expressing his feelings and desires for you in a way you can understand, and this is no different. How could he possibly explain to you the way you make him feel? How he has to fight off blushing when you’re close to him, how just the sound of your voice has his heartbeat racing, how just the sight of you in the outfit he picked for you has all the blood in his body racing south. It’s embarrassing- humiliating- and he won't stand for it. So when he sees you bend over in the little skirt, he has to do something about it.

You yelp as he grabs you, his hand closing around your wrist as he spins you around and slams yur back into the wall. Your head hurts where it hit the plaster, and your wrist hurts where he’s still crushing it in his hand. “You did that on purpose.” he accuses. You don't even know what you did. “Don't move.” he demands, letting go of your wrist to drop to his knees. The action alone is so unlike feitan, it’s unlike him to touch you, and it’s unlike him to kneel in front of you like this. There’s something wrong.

He reaches up under your skirt to pull your underwear down- he’d gotten a good view of them earlier, but it’s different when he’s taking them off you. Feitan pulls them off you, watching the way you shake slightly, but you don't move- exactly like he asked.

He’s careful with you, methodical in a way that’s unsettling and foreign. You whimper when he brings his fingers to your folds, as if testing the wetness. He glances up at you, eyes not betraying any emotion. He traces his finger along your entrance, not quite letting his fingers dip inside. You try to keep quiet, try to stay still, but it’s so difficult when you can feel yourself getting wetter as he works at you. “Good.” he appraised.

He’s just as methodical and slow with his tongue when he angles his head to lap at your cunt, his lips sealed against you as he works his tongue into you. If he can make you cum like this, maybe he’ll consider forgiving you for your little stunt earlier. If not, he’ll eat you over and over again until you beg him to stop.

Shalnark-

He looks up at you from between your legs, eyes shining as he carefully and skillfully swirls his tongue over your clit. Your whole body is trembling from the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he so deftly and methodically takes you apart. Shalnark knows he’s making you feel good, he can feel it in the way you clench around his fingers, the way your slick drips down his hand, the way that you taste so so good.

He lets out a soft little laugh, his hot breath making you whine, and he pulls his mouth from you. You whimper at the loss, mind too foggy to really think of how you shouldn't want this. But he’s making you feel so good, and you can't deny yourself this- anything he’s willing to give you.

“You want to cum?” he asks, voice obviously amused. You nod. He twists his wrist just so, making you gasp and arch up against him. “I don't know, you’re not acting like you do.” he taunts. Of course he’d take a moment like this to tease you- shalnark would never miss the opportunity to toy with you. “Maybe if you beg me, I'll consider letting you.”

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837 notes · View notes

tinytennisskirt · 7 months ago

Text

Rumours

Art x Fem!Reader

Summary: You hate hookup culture, so your roommate Tashi sets you up with her boyfriend’s best friend. A nasty rumour interferes with the date and confusion ensues, but there’s still time to fix things so the night isn’t a complete waste. It can still be cute and romantic.

Warnings: written in my notes app and unedited- miscommunication trope, mentions of sex and certain foreplay, one kiss.

So you’d managed to find yourself scheduled for a date with Art Donaldson, college tennis player. It was of course, the work of your best friend and roommate Tashi Duncan. She’d set it all up- all it took was one night of margaritas and sitting upside down on your bed, feet up against the wall, saying, “I’m kind of tired of being alone. I want to do things, I want to go on dates and I want to fall in love and out of it without the pressure for make out and hookup culture. It’s so tiring to sit here night after night.”

And Tashi was immediately on it. She whipped out her phone and was texting someone and you didn’t hear about it until the next day, sober. She’d set you up for a date with one of her friends. You weren’t involved in her passion for tennis and you were relatively new to this place, so you hadn’t met Art before. But he sounded nice enough. Tashi described him as a bit taller than her, but she stood at 5’10, so that meant he had to be around 6ft. Blonde, curly-ish waves and big ears. You’d chuckled a little at that.

Tashi didn’t warn you about anything, she was excited and set the date up for 7pm. Art would swing by your dorm and come get you and you’d go for dinner, practically a blind date. Or a vision-impaired date.

You carried out your class of the day, excited. Tashi said she’d lay out your perfect outfit while you were in classes after she got back from tennis with Patrick. You’d met Patrick, of course, he was over quite a bit. He was best friends with Art, you knew that much. It was funny he was never around.

When your partner for an assignment, Mary, who was one of your class friends- asked why you looked so eager to get out of class, you apologized. She laughed, “It’s okay, we are already ahead on the project, you’re allowed to slack a little.” You apologized again.

“I promise I’m invested,” you chuckled. “I have a date tonight is all. I haven’t been on a date in… forever.”

Mary tilted her head with intrigue, “Oooh, where to?”

“Some restaurant called The Bistro?” You answered. “Apparently it’s not much of a Bistro and just a nice place to eat and get a drink.”

“I love it there! They have great garlic bread but I don’t recommend for a first date,” she laughed and shut the book you two were annotating. You smiled. “Who with? Is it the cute barista guy from the campus coffee shop who was totally eyeing you yesterday? Please say it is.”

You shook your head, “You know my roommate Tashi? She set me up with one of her tennis friends- Art Donaldson?” You noticed Mary’s smile fall. No. What? “What is it?” You pressed immediately.

Mary shook her head, “I’m sure it’s fine. I just know you- that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that I know you hate hookup culture with a passion. I know you. And I also know things about Art… he has a reputation.” She cringed away like you were going to explode. You weren’t. You found the anticipation in your stomach was fading slowly.

“Oh…”

“But it’s just a rumour… I’ve heard from a few girls he’s only good for sex.” She waved her hands around like mad. “It could be totally a lie but I’ve heard it from… quite a few girls. Too many. Just be aware.”

You clicked your tongue. It figured. “Thank you. I had no idea.”

Mary apologized to you and gave you the rest of her energy drink because she felt so bad about breaking it to you- which you both laughed about. It was a bit funny, but the idea of going out with someone sex-oriented was something that you weren’t interested in. You weren’t about that- After being used in that way before you promised you wouldn’t put yourself in that position again. But rumours were rumours.

Despite everything, a date was a date. You’d get free dinner out of it, hopefully. Maybe. And you could always call Tashi to come get you. You went back to the dorm and Tashi had laid out something velvety and pretty for you with a small sweater and some black heels. She’d done well. You did your hair and makeup nicely and the clock continued to tick as you thought this over. Did you really want this?

The knock on the door snapped you out of you staring yourself down in the mirror. The time to contemplate was up and it was too late. You could just… not answer the door? Maybe he’d go away after a bit. But you were hungry and ramen compared to restaurant food did not seem so appealing. You hated what you were doing with every fibre of your being, but you opened the door with a smile.

He stood there in a sweater and nice pants, hair blonder than you’d imagined, and a toothy grin on his face. He looked sweet. That was your first impression. You didn’t notice the way his jaw went slack a little the moment you opened the door because as pretty as Art imagined you’d be, you were prettier.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he replied, extending his hand. “I’m Art. You must be y/n.” It wasn’t often anyone asked to shake your hand like this. You shook it gently. “Tashi told me a lot about you but I didn’t know you’d be so…” he stopped himself and smiled at his feet. “I am too forward already.”

“You’re doing fine,” I smiled. I tried to put my prejudice aside. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”

He smiled a crooked smile. Almost like a smirk, but I hoped it wasn’t a smirk. You could like a crooked smile a whole lot better. The two of you made introductions and began to walk through the dorm and outside. “I’ve been having car trouble lately. The back seats are a bit of a mess, it’s where my put the parts I’m working on.” He said before opening the passenger side door for you. He was nice. Sweet even. You didn’t mind the backseat was a mess.

“Thank you,” you said, slipping into the car. The car smelled like a mix of cinnamon and apples and a bit like a car, but good enough. The conversation on the way there consisted of talking about music. He liked the same stuff you did, apparent by the amount of cds he had in his glovebox. He was funny, too. You liked that. He was cracking jokes effortlessly and looked at you a bit much for someone who was driving but eventually you got there and sat down and ordered.

“So what’s tennis like?” You asked, folding your hands on the table. “A question from an outsider.”

“Competitive,” he replied. “But I’ve been at it since I was a kid, me and Patrick- you’ve met Patrick, which now I come to think he has mentioned you as well- me and Patrick went to the same tennis academy.”

You nodded, “So it’s been your life.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink, “Yeah. I’d say I’m pretty good but I would like an outsiders perspective, you know.” He smiled even wider and it only got more crooked. You smiled back. He was inviting you to watch him play. “What’s your thing? Your life?” He asked.

You grinned, “Maybe writing. Or reading? It’s boring, but-“

“It’s not boring,” Art interrupted. “I like reading in my downtime. I just finished The Turn of The Screw.”

“For fun?”

“For fun,” he laughed. He had a nice laugh and a smooth voice. Mary’s voice echoed around your head, repeating the ghosts of his past. He was almost too good to be true. He read for fun? A sports-oriented man who read for fun? You leaned on your fist. He looked you in the eyes, trying to read you, almost angling his head as if it would help him see into your mind. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you nodded, smiling a little bit embarrassedly. But you straightened your posture out. “You read for fun as a boy in college, it’s rare. I like it.”

He looked down at his plate, almost sheepishly. You didn’t know he was hiding the flush in his cheeks that went from ear to ear. The conversation carried on and he was still sweet. The food arrived and you talked about school and life before it and you were really beginning to see past the rumours.

Near the end of dinner you used the washroom quickly. You fixed up your blush and powder. He was nice. He was really nice and really sweet and he was full of compliments in subtle ways, about the small things. But you couldn’t stop thinking about what Mary had said. Who was to say that-

Your thoughts met an abrupt end as a girl in the bathroom of the restaurant tapped your arm. She was tall, thin, with hair like red velvet. You nstantly recognized her from my first class of the day, she was a girl who raised her hand often. “Hey!” She greeted me, wrapping slender arms around your neck in a hug you weren’t expecting. She smelled strongly of whiskey. Oh…

“Hi…” you said warily, patting her on the back as she pulled away. “How are you?”

She smiled a drunken smile. “I’m good! But I have to tell you something- I saw who you’re out with and I just wanted to come and warn you- he’s a player and I heard he’s only in the game for a fuck.” She giggled but shushed herself immediately after and leaned against the wall.

The pit feeling in your stomach made it churn. Things were really going well with Art, you were fractions away from letting it all go. He read for fun, for fucks sake. You bit your lip- “How do you know?” You asked. It wasn’t as if a drunk girl would give a great answer but maybe enough of one.

She pointed at you, “A friend of a friend went out with him… steak I think. And he was all nice-“ she hiccuped. You braced yourself. Art was still out there… maybe. Why couldn’t things just be easy? You felt the fight or flight kick in. “But after he expected his dick sucked or whatever-“

Your stomach dropped again. Fuck! Why couldn’t men be nicer? Easier? More full of love and not lust. You stood in this bathroom believing in a drunk redhead and you hated it. You pulled out your phone and wanted to call Tashi. But this was Tashi’s friend so suspicions that he was a boy who used women and it just felt wrong. You sighed a deep, long sigh. “He expected it?”

“Yeah! He was all pushy.” She said. “Anyways I gotta go, just had to tell you.”

“Wait-“

She stumbled away. You inhaled again, so deep you ran out of capacity. You were not the kind of girl who valued men like that or kept them around. Was it so hard to just be loved and cherished? For fucks sake, fucks sake! You were gripping the edge of the sink so hard, your knuckles were white. He was so cute, he really was. Blonde curls, crooked smile, the way he spoke and he was so charming.

You walked out of the bathroom and back to the table, Art smiled as you sat back down. “Hey, you okay?” He asked. “I was thinking of getting dessert… do you want to share or… I’m happy to get you one for yourself.”

You pressed your tongue to your cheek, “Art… I think I’m going to cut our night short.” You started, looking down, away from him. It was a bit too late, you’d seen his face fall, his smile slip away into softly opened lips.

“Oh,” he nodded, pulling out his wallet. You stopped him too quickly, nearly putting a hand on his and immediately yanking your hand back.

“No-“ you said. “I’ll pay, I’m sorry I wasted your time.” Anything to get away from someone whose rumours had followed you to the restaurant. There was a time

He shook his head, “It’s okay, really. I-uh…”He shook his head again. You hated the feeling in your stomach as it rose and fell again and again. “I’m sorry.” He said.

You wondered why. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” The rumours were too much. He raised his hand for the bill. “I’m just… I…” you found yourself unable to lie and say you felt sick. He looked at you, eyes meeting eyes with nothing else to look at but how blue they were, with a bit of brown on the left eye. But he wasn’t company you wanted to keep. “I’m sorry.” And you paid with your card when the waiter came. He looked away from you and you messaged Tashi to come get you.

He stood with you outside, the wind tousled your hair. You looked over at him looking out over the parking lot bathed in purple light from the restaurant sign. You looked away. He looked over at you, but you didn’t see it until he took a deep breath. “Was it something I said?” He asked. You looked at him, not turning your body, but your head. “I’m sorry for asking, I know how it sounds, but part of me isn’t going to let this go unless I know if it was my fault.”

You looked at your feet in your pretty shoes. “It wasn’t anything you said,” you replied. The silence amongst the nearby whoosh of traffic was unbearable. Your eyes met. You hated being terrified of being used- girls like Tashi embraced it for the experience but you were tired. And maybe if you were more naive or not so set on a high standard then you wouldn’t be leaving before dessert. You wished you weren’t terrified of it. And you wished you were tired. Art nodded. More silence.

What an awkward first date. You wished you hadn’t left the dorm in the first place. The wind moved his hair around. His hands stayed in his pockets. “Should have let me pay,” he chuckled quietly. “I have to go back to my dorm to tell Patrick not only did I fuck up a date with a pretty girl but she paid too. You know you’d be saving me from him if you stayed? You know him…”

His little attempts at bringing levity made you smile and you hated it. “I’m sorry,” was all you said. It felt like all you could say. He smiled a bit back at you. Tashi pulled up in her jeep and you waved at him. He waved back. A silent goodbye.

The door wasn’t even closed and Tashi was speaking, “Why? What did he do?”

You didn’t know she’d be unhappy. “I heard things about him? A girl pulled me aside in the bathroom to warn me- I was told a few things about him today and it threw me off, I can’t-“

“Art is the sweetest guy I know, you couldn’t even finish your meal? I get that you know what you want but I went out of my way to try and get you what you wanted and… I’m so sorry but that’s not right. What you did. You could have stuck it out.” She spoke a mile a minute.

“I heard he’s only in it for sex!” You said, defending yourself. You and Tashi didn’t fight, you had to voice it or else she wouldn’t understand.

“What?”

“Mary told me- and then the redhead girl from my morning class at the restaurant told me-“

“Mary Sinclair?” Tashi said. “Call her right now.”

“Hm?” Her words were whizzing out of her mouth and they were sharp. She was genuinely never like this with you. She was only like this when she knew she was in the right.

“Call Mary Sinclair,” she repeated. She started driving away. “I’m sorry I’m yelling- please.” You listened because Tashi was so firm.

“Hey,” Mary started when she picked up. “How was your date?”

Tashi grabbed the phone from you- “Hey Mary, this is Tashi. Just calling to ask- You said something about Art Donaldson?”

She stuttered on the other line. You narrowed your eyebrows. This was fast. This was very strange and out of character for how you and Tashi treated each other. Tashi looked over at you, driving with one hand. “Yeah, I mean. I know he sleeps with girls on the first date. And I know he’s a player of sorts- I was only warning- I heard from a friend of a friend.”

“Which Art Donaldson?” Tashi followed up, her tone still strong. Straight to the point. You were honestly afraid she’d crash putting all her effort into the power of her voice.

Mary clicked her tongue, “Tennis player? Tall, wears a lot of sweaters. Brown hair, big nose, kinda long-“ and you perked up. “He’s roommates or… friends with that blonde guy.”

Oh fuck. What did that mean? You had a feeling but you hated what it truly meant. You looked at Tashi, who arched her eyebrow at you. “Who spread those rumours?” She followed up. “I mean- who told you that?”

“I heard them from Tessi,” she replied. You immediately knew who that was. That was bathroom redhead girl. Oh my god. “Why? What’s going on?”

Tashi spoke through her teeth, “Who did she hear them from?”

“Some girl he went out with three months ago. I forget, she’s a friend of Tessi’s I think and her name is… Val?”

“Fuck!” Tashi said aloud. You were caught up in how fast this was unfolding and the moving car and Art. Who was Art? “Thanks Mary!” She hung up and put my phone back in my lap. “I’m sorry, y/n, this is not fair to you or to Art.”

“I’m- what the fuck?”

“They’re talking about Patrick. Someone is confused, they’re talking about Patrick, Val is his ex… before me. She hates his guts, she thinks he played her. He didn’t, he just… wanted me. Someone along the line mistook him for Art, got their names mixed up- you’re right for trusting your gut.”

You just blinked. Tashi veered a little harshly. “Patrick? They think Art is Patrick? Somehow? That’s so- how? They’re so different.”

“I don’t know either- I’m sorry I’m yelling- Patrick is the so-called player, not Art.” And your stomach dropped lower than it had before. And your heart instantly gushed. He was not a dick, he wasn’t a player, he was just everything you hated to like- he was charming, kind, he read for fun, he was complimentative and funny and you had just fucked him over after what was a good date, inner thoughts aside. And he even asked you stay, god he thought he did something wrong. You felt ache in your fingertips.

“Tashi, can we beat Art back?”

Tashi pressed her hand to her forehead, “Boys dorms?”

“Please,” you said. Suddenly it was urgent. The whirlwind picked you up again. Tashi who was already driving a little recklessly turned her jeep onto campus grounds as fast as she could. You feared a little for your life. You had just done something awful to what was the perfect guy and it was all under false notions, your prejudice, your fear of someone being two-faced or fake and not being genuine.

“You can’t get in without a keycard, you have to catch him before he gets in and that’s his car parked right there in the lot,” she veered over to the entrance and saw Art walking down the side of the building. He was sweet and quite perfect and you ruined everything. She could have called Patrick who she knew was hanging out there, she could have helped but there wasn’t another thought in your mind. You ditched your bag in her car and got out of the jeep just to have your ankle immediately bend when your high-heeled feet hit the ground. What a misunderstanding, it burned in your chest and fingertips like an ache. The pain in your ankle was momentary only because you needed to move. You kicked the shoes away and ran, barefoot on the grass, across it to the sidewalk, feet hitting the rough hard ground. You had never felt faster. You didn’t call his name, you didn’t want to make him turn.

You ran and you ran and he was at the door, reaching for his key card. This was a great mistake- this was a crazy mistake. You almost ran into him, you stopped just before and he turned his head, eyes widening a bit. Your curled hair had grown in volume from the wind, your nose was pink, your breaths were heavy and harsh and you were barefoot.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. He met your eyes. You couldn’t catch your breath, your lungs burned and your heart beat a mile a minute. “Art, I’m so sorry.” You pressed your hand to your stomach. “Something happened, some misunderstanding and I- I let it determine how I felt about you and truth is you were lovely but the false information I’d been given overshadowed it and I-“ you huffed. “God, I’m saying I fucked up. Aside from that you were perfect and I really liked talking to you.”

He folded his arms. You immediately felt small. Stupid. “Art, I’m sorry. Someone told me you were a player and I am not- I’m not about that. I don’t like people like that, not for myself. I let someone tell me that was who you were but they were confused and they were talking about Patrick! Tashi told me his ex… spreads rumours.” You breathed out heavily. “I’m so sorry, I really should have asked you about it or something. Or even asked the girls who told me. They were confused and they didn’t even know it. I was scared that you were some dick like the others but you’re not. And I’m sorry. And you’re letting me ramble and honestly it’s fine because I could just talk about how sorry I am forever.”

“She does spread rumours like that but Patrick… he couldn’t be me,” Art said. He said it with a straight face, but what he said was a little funny. I smiled. And I wanted him to smile too. “I liked talking to you too. I thought it was going really well, honestly.”

“I was just scared, I promise. I believed it. I believed it to keep myself safe and I’m baring my insecurities in the open right now with little to no filter- just- I didn’t get the feeling you were like that whatsoever, but I was told…”

He nodded, “I know. I’m sorry someone told you that, but it’s definitely not me.” He kept his arms folded. The ache manifested into your whole chest. You’d been such a dick. You hurt someone kind because of a rumour. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your face flushed hot. Scalding. You must have turned entirely pink. “I really- I just wanted to tell you I was sorry and why and what happened before you went inside. I am really sorry, Art. It was really a lovely night things aside. I am frankly mortified and upset I acted the way I did and I just… I wanted you to know how sorry I am.” You expressed, your hands gesturing all the important parts. He kept his lips straight. You felt judged. I guess that’s how he felt. “Look, I’m going to go. I really didn’t mean to make you feel like you did something wrong. It wasn’t you at all. I’m sorry I completely misjudged you. I’m going to go now, back to my… um… dorm.” Your flush burned your skin. “Thank you for listening.”

“You know you’d be saving me from Patrick if you stayed?” He said. His arms unfolded and his small smile was back. Very small. But there. You clutched your stomach and swallowed hard. Your heart still beat a mile a minute.

“Art-“

“It’s okay. People get mixed up between me and Patrick all the time. And although I didn’t like the no-reason-pay-and-leave, I still like you. I think you’re really sweet and pretty and you just ran across the residence lawn barefoot just to apologize with a million words because you felt that bad. I think that makes up for the judgment. Plus… it makes sense. I heard what Tashi told Patrick about what you’re looking for in a guy, it makes sense that you’d ditch.”

You breathed out hard. “She said she wouldn’t tell…”

“You’re sweet. And you were protecting your peace.” He said. He looked at his feet. “And I get it and I like you.”

“I like you too.” You huffed. “Can we-“

“Start from scratch?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. He smiled a crooked smile and the weight was partially lifted. You still felt awful, but less so. He understood.

He stuck his hand out to you and you shook it. His crooked smile was in full bloom. You blushed. “Art. Not Patrick.” He said.

“Y/n,” you replied. “Do you want to get out of here? This is me asking you out. Again.” You clarified. He laughed a little.

“Yeah I’d be honoured, but I pick the spot… again.” He agreed. You nodded. And nobody spoke for a moment, you just smiled. And his blue eyes weren’t so down-looking. “Do you need shoes?”

“Depends on where we’re going…” you said. “Thank you though. For understanding.”

“You’re too pretty for me to care about what some other girl said about someone else,” he said. “You don’t need shoes, come on.”

And you walked off together, starting up some new unrelated conversation. He took you to play tennis, he kicked your ass but you were also barefoot and in a dress. You ended up laughing hysterically and he was everything you wanted and more. And the events of a few hours ago faded out like nothing. It became a thing of the past and all you both knew now was badly swung tennis rackets and bare feet on the court, laughter, harmony. And it was nearly 2am when he walked you back to your dorm. He carried your shoes that you found by the sidewalk.

“That was fun,” you said outside your door. “Thank you again for forgiving me.”

“Thank you for running across residence to apologize,” he replied. You smiled. So did he. “Don’t let anyone mix me up again? I’m going to talk to someone about that…”

You laughed, “I’ll fix it for sure.”

“Thank you.” He put his hands in his pocket then immediately took them out. “I want to see you again.”

“I’d like that,” you answered. Your eyes met properly. “Very much.”

“Me too,” he said. “And you looked beautiful tonight. Even with your hair all messed up.” You’d been whining about it on the court. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Or I guess today.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. His eyes fell downward. You could tell he stared at your lips. Despite all you stood for, tonight was enough to warrant it. You grinned in the silence and he matched it with his smirk-like smile. And it was mutual, the kiss. Both of you leaned in, meeting in the middle. Soft. Easy. Simple. And quick. Just his hand on your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear before pulling away. “Goodnight.” You said. Your body felt warm.

He grinned, a little bit of a twinkle in his eye. “Goodnight.”

Rumours were just that- rumours. And they’d gone to die, at least for you and Art. You took off your makeup, got into your Panama’s, completely debriefing with Tashi as you did. She had been trying to get to the bottom of it since she got back, it turned out. There was going to be nothing in the way anymore, all pre-conceived notions thrown out the window.

You smiled as you fell asleep with the promise of being called tomorrow. Nothing else mattered.

#art donaldson #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fluff #challengers x y/n #challengers fic #challengers #Patrick Zweig #art x y/n

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lewisvinga · 1 year ago

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venice bitch | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; snippets of charles’s love for y/n that makes her forever grateful he is hers.

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

word count; 674

notes; requested ! tbh i struggled to decide to make this angst or fluff but k made it fluff😭😭 n i also couldn’t figure out how to incorporate the exact words ‘venice bitch’, so this lowk could’ve been better im sorry🤒🤒

masterlist !

“I swear you’re like an ice cream ice queen,” Charles says in between laughs as Y/n drags him down the streets of Venice to a local gelato shop. She playfully rolls her eyes as he opens the door for her.

“Like you’re one to complain. I know you like to kiss me after I eat gelato!” She exclaimed, glancing back at him with a smile and getting in line.

He holds his hands up in defense. “You’re just so sweet for me when I kiss you!” He replies, watching her order gelato. “The strawberry flavor makes your kisses taste sweet.” He whispers in her ear as she orders that exact flavor.

“You’re something else, Charles Leclerc.”

“But you love it.”

She rolls her eyes once again with a smile lingering on her lips. Once she made it to the register, she didn’t even notice that he already had his card out and was ready to swipe.

By the time Y/n opened her bag, Charles already swiped his card. The realization made her let out a gasp. “Charles! I said I’d pay.”

“No can do, honey.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Got the fire started!” Charles calls out from the backyard, adjusting the seats around the bonfire he had started. Y/n was out in the front yard tending to her plants before rushing to the backyard.

He had set out the ingredients needed to make s’mores, and when she noticed, she gasped. He pats the spot beside him, “Got a special seat for you here.”

“Cha’” She whispers, sitting down next to him. “You’re amazing.”

“Anything for my honey.” He kissed her head gently before grabbing the ingredients along with the bamboo sticks for the marshmallow.

They spend hours by the bonfire as the summer fades away and slowly ends. The scene felt like it was out of a hallmark. It was something that Y/n had always dreamt of. It was always the same one dream, one life, and one lover.

And she couldn’t have wished for a better man.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“No peeking yet!” Charles exclaims, making sure to not mess up her makeup while keeping his hands over her eyes. He carefully leads her into their shared home in Monaco. They had just returned from a 5th anniversary dinner and Y/n returned with a special stone on her ring finger.

“Charles, you have another surprise? I’ll mess up my makeup even more!” She whined, her fingers playing with the diamond engagement ring. “Besides, this diamond is enough to keep me satisfied with surprises for the next few months.”

“Amour, we both know that’s a lie.” Charles chuckled, “You love your diamonds.” He added, gesturing at the diamond necklace and earrings she wore even though she couldn’t see him.

“What can I say? Me, myself, I like diamonds. Diamonds are a girl's best friend.”

“Okay, ready?”

“To cry more? Yes.”

The Ferrari driver couldn’t hold back his laugh as he slowly removed his hands. Y/n opens her eyes and gasps as she sees the scene. Her closest friends and her family were standing in their very decorated backyard. There were white flowers everywhere, and there was a table with a cake set up that had the words ‘Just Engaged!’ written on top. He invited the people closest to her and him to celebrate their engagement.

“You did not…” She says, still in shock, and turns around. Tears filled her eyes as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re too good for me, Cha’.” She cried in his arms.

“My best girl deserves the world,” Charles whispers, caressing her cheek in his hands. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her lips, smiling as their family and friends cheered for the newly engaged. “I love you, mon amour.”

“And I love you, honey,” Y/n whispers back, staring at him with nothing but love and adoration in her eyes. “Truthfully, if you weren’t mine, I’d be jealous of your love.” She adds, leaning in and giving him another of many kisses as a newly engaged couple.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

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squinch-depraved · 5 months ago

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got rlly inspired by @mister-sandwich's post about schlatt pissing you off and then just burying his face between your legs and i think i'm gonna continue off of the other oneshot i posted today bc something ab it was kinda yummyyy wrote this all in one sitting so i hope it's okay anyway can you tell i'm high and have the munchies 🤭

a few days later, still chuckle week, still sweltering, you sit in front of a fan on the bed you're staying in, legs hanging off the side and slightly leaning back onto your arms. eyes closed, waiting for your best friend(?) to come back so the two of you could start watching another movie. it was your new favorite activity to do together; he hadn't seen many and you got to show him your favorite films. doesn't matter that it usually ended with someone going down on the other, or that you both were too electrically aware of the other's presence to actually watch the flick. things between you two were certainly different than they were at the start of this trip, but at this point, it was a bit too late to care how relationship dynamics had shifted, what with the shoving of his cock down your throat all the time and that stuff. and when ted joined you guys, it was even more intense. the three of you definitely had something incredible, and you planned to all discuss it at the end of the week, when all the filming was done and you guys could finally relax. but for right now, ted was out with tucker hunting down some stuff for a video they were going to film together, and then they were going out to dinner with a group of friends not well known to the two of you left. it was just you and schlatt for the rest of the day and night, and you were thrilled. not that you didn't love having both boy toys, just that you were excited to have some time alone with him again.

"this fuckin' loser only keeps some weird bougie caramel top ice cream in his freezer, so i guess that's what we're having," his voice echoes down the hall until he's finally visible in the doorframe. he continues to approach until he's standing in between you and the fan and holding out a spoon.

"that's my ice cream, j," you reply tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. "i bought that for us to share tonight because i thought it looked good. you think i'd just tell you to go steal ted's ice cream?"

he's silent for a moment. "i think if you wanted to be cute and have a little ice cream date, we could have used ted's ice cream maker and made it a whole thing."

you whip your head up to glare at him. "are you fuckin' kidding me?"

he laughs. "what? mad i came up with a better date than you? in like, two seconds?"

"no!" you lie. "get out of the way of the fan, it's so fucking hot in here." you try to push him, or even move him at all, really, but you fail. "schlatt, i'm fucking serious. move. and give me that spoon."

he yanks the spoon back before you can reach it. with a simple, "nah," he opens the ice cream and begins eating it, much to your dismay.

"schlatt! stop it! that's for-"

"our cutesy little movie date? nah, toots, i'm gonna eat all this while you sit there and bitch about it, and then maybe, if you're cute enough, i'll eat you."

a stunned silence hangs heavily in the room before you finally regain the ability to speak, jumping up to grab at his hands (which he pulls out of reach as he continues to eat with a small smile on his lips). "sch- i actually don't even fucking know what to say," you fumble, growing more and more pissed. "i don't know why you're being like this?? what did i do?"

he sniffs.

"there's no way you actually eat that whole pint." your hands are on your hips now as you shoot daggers at him. his eyebrow cocks, as if to say, wanna bet? "i hate you so much."

he grins and goes in for another spoonful.

"you're such a dick, you know that?" you speak sharply, sinking back onto the bed.

"last spoonful. you want?"

you quickly look up at him to see him offering it to you, spoon in outstretched hand. you nod greedily and open your mouth, causing him to cackle and eat it himself. your eyes go wide, and then narrow to squint at him. "YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING- WHY WOULD YOU EVEN- I CAN'T FUCKING-" you stutter, starting time after time only to stop a few words later because your anger feels like it's consuming you. "WHY???" you scream. he simply continues laughing as he leaves the room. you sit there, fuming, unable to even move as you process everything that just happened. the rage makes you blind to him coming back and standing in the same spot. a moment later you look back up at him. "get out of the way. of the fucking fan. or i swear i'm going to-"

"shut the fuck up," he says.

you go silent for a few seconds before you ask, "where did you go?"

"throw away the ice cream. i told you shut up," he says. "can you just do one thing you're told?" his voice is sickly sweet, mocking you.

"i'm gonna punch you in the balls live on the podc-" you start, but are cut off by him pushing you back down onto the bed. "wh-?"

he wedges himself between your legs and rips the clothing off your lower half. you shriek slightly in surprise, and he buries his face in your cunt, immediately swirling his tongue over your clit, sliding a finger in. his face pulls back and looks at you, staring at the ceiling, lost in the whirlwind of things you're feeling, and says, "fuckin' knew you'd be soaking for me." he punctuates his sentence by spitting on your clit and you moan. "you taste so much sweeter than that stupid, fancy fuckin' ice cream." this makes you scream through gritted teeth (really, it was him slipping another finger in and working them inside you just right, but he doesn't need to know that) and you bring your legs to wrap around his head, fingers intertwining into his hair.

gasping and squirming under him, his tongue continues to dance all over your sopping pussy while he pins you by your hips down against the mattress. he's sloppy, borderline making out with your sticky sweet folds and you can see your essence all over his chops. his eyes, dark, drag up your body to meet yours and it triggers something in your stomach. a knot, forming and growing as he works now three fingers in and out, in and out, and curling them in all the most delicious spots. you're screaming now, his name, obscenities, how much you just hate him, how good he feels. the knot in your stomach has spread throughout your entire body, enveloping you in a warm embrace as fireworks explode everywhere, and you scream more, announcing your arrival at what feels like heaven's gate, but he just keeps going. sensitive, every nerve in your body feeling like it's being abused by this man (and truthfully, they are), tears begin to flow down your cheeks as you try to pull his head away, to no avail.

"please, j! i can't handle it! 's too much!" you cry out. he hmmphs on your clit, making you gasp loudly. something is building again, but it feels different. almost wrong. still pleasureful, but in such an intense way that your legs begin kicking, trying to get him off. but schlatt holds fast, mouth glued to the bundle of nerves that makes you move under him like this. he knows you're close, and by god is he gonna get you there. something resembling fire rips through you like a shockwave, and you release all over him, babbling something about a mess and tears falling from overstimulation.

finally, he pulls back, looking up at you while you regulate and come back down to earth. when you finally speak, your voice is hoarse. "why did you do that?"

he shrugs. "you were bein' a brat."

you nod, looking at the time.

"i'm gonna doordash that ice cream, by the way," he mumbles, grabbing his phone. " it was really good and you deserve some after all that. you still up for a movie?"

#jschlatt #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt x reader #x reader #schlatt #jschlatt smut #jschlatt x you

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syrupfog · 6 months ago

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The thing about being a pirate is that you can’t get too attached to anything you own.

Ships go down. Ships get stolen or looted. You change crews.

Maybe pre-pirating your whole island was razed to the ground and you escaped with only the clothes on your back and your odd hat.

It’s just a known fact; don’t get too attached to anything.

THAT’S why Law keeps his Sora collection a SECRET.

He knows it’s not wise to keep on board the Tang. He knows he’s just ASKING for a leak. He keeps the comics in waterproof containers as if that will help if they sink.

Honestly rule number one of being a pirate is “don’t eat a devil fruit you dumbass you need to swim” but he’d already broken that rule so he might as well break rule number two; “don’t get attached to anything you own.”

He got very attached.

When the Tang explodes, everyone makes it out. Which makes sense, because everyone (except for Law) are North Blue survivors, MADE for those icy ocean temps. It’s great, he’s eternally grateful he can trust his crew.

He’s just a little devastated that his collection is gone.

In the mean time, while debating how to get ahold of a second ship (would Wolf be willing to come out of retirement…?), they’re stuck on the Going Luffy again. Fucking creepy ass ship. But at least Law spends enough time getting pissed at Barto that he barely misses his things.

(That’s a lie; he used to reread one comic a night. He misses them a lot).

Two weeks into their stay, though, they finally catch up to the Sunny (which of the Straw Hats was dumb enough to give Barto their vivre card?) and as soon as they’re close enough, Law realises that he made a mistake, lounging on the deck to nap.

Because, like some sort of beacon, Luffy spots him instantly as he slingshots from one ship to the other.

“TraaaaaaaffFFFFFYYYYYY”

Law makes a quick room and switches himself with Bepo, who screams as Luffy crashes into him.

“Bear!!” Luffy yells. “You’re not Traffy!”

“No! Sorry!”

Luffy gets up and brushes himself off. “Oh, Traffy! When did you get over there?”

“When you decided to try to kill me with that landing,” Law says, cracking his neck.

Luffy laughs at him.

LUFFY is made of rubber. Law is not made of rubber and he does not think Luffy ever remembers that.

“I’m so glad you guys are here!” Luffy says, ignoring the insinuation that he would commit murder. “It’s been so BORING lately! And Nami says you guys don’t have a ship right now!”

Ah yes, Nami does read the paper religiously.

“We’re working on it,” Law says, ignoring Bepo’s sad expression.

“Well until then, you should join us!” Luffy says. “Since we’re in an alliance and all!”

“We are NOT,” Law snaps, “still in an alliance! That’s finished!”

Luffy laughs. “Okay,” he says.

Law doesn’t think that okay is real.

“But anyway, Sanji says you should all come over for dinner! He’s making meat!”

Barto, who has only just appeared (probably doing his hair), perks up. “Me too, Luffy Senpai??”

“Uh,” says Luffy. “Yeah, sure!”

Barto has stars in his eyes.

Law sighs. Barto is too much to handle on the best of days.

“Fine Straw Hat,” he says. “We’ll be there.”

They eat on the deck of the Sunny, because there’s not enough room in the galley. It’s a clear, starry night.

The Sunny’s headed to Elbaf.

Law sits at the edge and watches his crew make up to Usopp and Franky. Bunch of nerds, the lot of them.

He watches Luffy, too, as he eats a mammoth portion and then immediately lays down for a nap.

Law’s spent a lot of time watching Luffy.

He doesn’t get it, how one person can have such magnetism. Luffy could have the whole world bowing at his feet if he wanted. Law knows this because he could easily count himself among them.

He doesn’t understand why Luffy continues to seek HIM out.

He’s a hell of a lot grumpier than Luffy’s acquired crew. He’s also clearly been born with bad luck; it follows him like a plague. He’s not fun to be around.

But for some reason Luffy keeps finding him and looking happy when he does.

It’s weird.

Tonight, after half the crews have retired and Luffy’s woken up from his food coma, he does the same thing. He zeroes in on Law and sidles up to him.

“Hey!” He says, sandals slapping the deck. “You’re being all weird and lonely!”

“Shut up, Straw Hat. You’re just too friendly.”

Luffy puts his hands in his hips as he laughs. “You’re friendly,” he says. “You’re just not happy about it.”

That’s incredibly wrong. Law scowls.

“Now come on.” Luffy reaches down and pulls Law to his feet. “Sanji’s doing dishes.”

“So…?”

Luffy puts a finger to his lips.

Then he makes an INCREDIBLE amount of noise as he runs across the deck with Law in tow (and protesting about it) down to the men’s bunk room.

Chopper and Jinbei are already asleep but the light is on, and Zoro’s sitting in his bunk polishing his swords. He looks at them when they enter and snorts. “Stealing from your own crew, now, Luffy?”

Luffy laughs and Law starts to protest— or question?— but he’s pulled over to the lockers and Luffy starts rummaging through one that’s full of suits and smells sickeningly of cigarette smoke.

From the bottom he pulls out a box of—

“Is that— Sora?” Law breathes. This is the GRAND LINE. How did someone get SORA COMICS?

“Yep!” Luffy opens the box and starts getting his sticky fingers ALL OVER THEM. “The bear said you love this stuff! And that you lost yours!”

“I—“ how did Bepo…?

Of course Bepo knew. Damn him. Snooping bear.

“Sanji hates these things. I dunno why he insists on keeping them.”

Luffy gives up thumbing through them and instead sticks his GREASY HANDS IN and just pulls out 90% of the stack at random.

“Here you go!”

Law gapes at him.

“Straw Hat, you can’t just—“

Luffy grins. “Sanji won’t to notice!”

There’s two comics left in the box. Sanji will definitely notice.

Still, Law could never turn down this opportunity. He takes the stack with REVERENCE, realising these are the OLD ones, the ones with the much darker plot lines and terrible airbrush coloring.

Holy shit. They’re first editions.

He may have started crying right there, if not for the fact that he’s suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by incredibly loud, incredibly fake snoring.

He looks over. Zoro’s still holding his sword oil as he “sleeps”.

If he were a better man, Law would talk to Sanji about this.

But he’s not a better man. He’s a pirate.

Law makes a room big enough to reach the Going Luffy and reaches out with his free hand, grabbing Luffy.

He switches them with a Luffy statue from his own “guest” room.

Luffy laughs as Law lets go. “That’s so cool, we should prank people,” he says.

“Later,” Law says. He sits down on the floor in front of his hammock and starts carefully shuffling through the Sora.

Honestly he’s so caught up in finding out what volumes are there that he almost forgets he brought Luffy with him until the captain reaches out from next to him and points at one of the covers.

“Hey that looks like Sanji’s brother!”

Law rolls his eyes and starts talking about how it couldn’t possibly be whoever Sanji’s brother is because Sora came out when HE was a kid and Sanji’s too young for that, and anyway Straw Hat don’t you know anything about the LORE?

He talks about the lore.

He talks for a LONG time about the lore.

And the worst part of all is that Luffy pays attention for all of it, nodding like he’s listening.

(He can’t possibly be)

(But that’s okay)

When Law is done going through each comic and explaining the plots in detail, he realises just how much he’s forced down Luffy’s throat.

He starts to apologise but then he looks up at Luffy and sees him grinning.

“We should’ve taken all of them,” Luffy says. “You clearly care about them a lot.”

Law… blushes. Gets bright fucking red. “It’s a hobby,” he says. “It’s not important.”

“But you like it,” Luffy says.

“And that makes it important.”

Law stares at him.

He has the unnerving urge to kiss him.

“Straw Hat…”

Luffy leans forward, eyes wide.

Shockingly, he does what Law would never follow through on.

He kisses him.

HE KEEPS HIS EYES OPEN, THOUGH. LAW DOESN'T LIKE THAT.

Law reels back after the initial kiss. “LU-YA CLOSE YOUR EYES WHEN YOU KISS SOMEONE.”

Luffy pouts. “No! I wanna see you!”

Law scoffs. His face is SO hot. “Shut up.”

He covers Luffy’s eyes and kisses him back.

Luffy’s a terrible kisser.

Law likes that.

He likes that there’s something he’s bad at. Because everything else about Luffy is so incredible.

Luffy goes to deepen the kiss but when he surges forward he knocks one of the comics with his foot and Law immediately stops the kiss to clean up everything.

When breakfast happens in the morning, Sanji complains briefly about someone breaking into his locker and messing sigh his stuff, but Zoro makes a remark that Sanji’s just upset because he hides sex toys in his locker and got found out.

They start fighting.

Luffy sits next to Law and eats all his pancakes, while Law picks at the accompanying fruit and eggs.

Then, under the table, Luffy grabs his hand.

Luffy’s hand is SO sticky.

Like, did he stick his hand IN the maple syrup?

Law lets it happen, though.

It’s good. It’s nice.

He fell asleep in the hammock last night with Luffy. Reading Sora.

Pirates can’t afford to get attached to things. Things get lost and looted and stolen.

But just this once. Just this once Law will try again.

#lawlu #lulaw #my writing #one piece

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

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Call Up II

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Zećira and Frido's reactions

You sit out the front of Millie's house, staring down at your phone.

Zećira's smiling contact picture looks back at you. Your finger hovers over the call button. You're not too sure how to start this off. You can see Morsa pacing up and down the road, as she talks to moster Frido and you look back down at Zećira's picture.

"Hey," She says when the call is picked up," What's up? You never call."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "I..er..." You definitely didn't think this far ahead. "I actually have some news."

You can practically hear Zećira's eye roll. "Don't tell me your mothers are doing something stupid again. I can only take so much of Magda falling out of trees."

"It's about me, actually."

You could hear the moment Zećira went serious. There's some rustling on her side of the phone as she moves about.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," You say, biting at your lip," I was just wondering if you want to come watch me play."

"For Arsenal? Sorry, y/n, I know the derby is tomorrow but I'm busy until lunch. I won't be able to make it."

"No," You say," During the international break."

"Oh, then yeah, I'm free. So long as you get Pernille to send me directions. I'm telling you the roads in Denmark aren't natural. They-"

"In Sweden, actually," You cut her off," With the senior team."

There's silence for a moment and then an odd little squeaking sound.

"For our senior team? For Sweden?"

"Yeah, for Sweden."

Silence again.

"You got called up?! When?!"

"A few minutes ago," You reply," There's three friendlies. One for each keeper so I'm actually going to get game time."

"Are you serious?"

"Would I lie?"

"You sort me out with tickets, do you hear me? And...And...You're going to be wearing a Sweden shirt?"

"No more wearing yours," You laugh.

"When do you go back home? After the derby? I'll send you something. I don't know what but I'll send you something, okay? Have you told Frido yet?"

"Morsa's calling her now."

"Okay...okay..." She takes several deep breaths. "Video call me tonight so I can sort everything out, alright? God, I'm so proud of you."

You had just dropped the call when Morsa comes hurrying over. She shoves her phone into your ear.

"Congratulations!"

"Thanks, moster."

"I called it," Moster Frido boasts," I said to your mothers that we'd see you in a Sweden jersey one day. I love being right."

You laugh a little bit in disbelief. "You can't have known."

"I did," Frido insists," Although, I did assume it would be as a forward."

You roll your eyes. "But you're fine with it being as a keeper?"

"Well," Frido says with a laugh," So long as when your kids are named Frido, we have enough to fill all positions, I'm happy with you as a keeper."

You huff in amusement. "Bold of you to assume they'd be named after you."

"Bold of you to assume that I won't be front row watching you next month."

You perk up. "You're coming?"

"You think I'd miss your first game on the senior team?" Frido asks back," I don't know if they'll be selling your shirts yet. I'll have to DIY my own."

Your cheeks go a little red at that. You hadn't thought about people selling your shirt. They didn't sell shirts at the youth level. It had never really crossed your mind.

But you also knew what moster Frido was like. You knew how embarrassing she was.

"Please don't."

"I will," She promises," Just you wait."

Momma pops her head out the door. "Millie said dinner's ready."

"I have to go," You say to Frido," I've got a match tomorrow. I need to eat."

"Alright," Frido says," I'll see you soon, alright? Front row."

"Front row," You confirm," Love you, moster Frido."

"Love you too, little monster."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #zecira musovic x reader #zecira musovic #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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hunterwritings · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 & 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍

summary: bi-han is soft with you while you are pregnant warnings: pregnant!reader, soft!bi-han notes: i'm obsessed with bi-han and pregnant!reader (im literally a lesbian)

Your eyes were heavy as you lay in bed. You laid on your back with a hand on your protruding belly. You were about 8 months along in your pregnancy, and you most certainly couldn't hide it from anyone even if you wanted to.

"I had a feeling you were here." Bi-han's voice made your heavy eyelids open and see him closing the door behind him to your bedroom. A soft smile appears on your lips as you begin to sit up and rest your back on a pillow against the headboard. "No need to move." He says, you move anyway.

Bi-han has been with you through everything, and with your pregnancy, his protectiveness has increased tenfold. He wants to be around you 24/7 and doesn't want anyone else to be near you. It's not much different than his normal aura, but he treats you a much more fragile now that you are carrying his child. Bi-han has a difficult time talking about how much he cares and more so shows it by always being near you, bringing you anything you ask for, and things you don't ask for.

"Were you looking for me?" You ask as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you, slowly removing his mask.

"I was." He sets his mask down on the bed.

"Well, I finally took your advice and rested." You smirked.

"You should take my advice more often, I don't say it for no reason."

"I know." You smiled softly at him. He looked up at you and his gaze softened.

"I will make your dinner." He begins to stand.

"No, I'm not hungry yet." You shook your head as you grabbed his hand.

"You will be later, and you must eat enough for yourself and our child." He reminds you as you pull him towards you.

"I know, my love, I will. Just lay with me for a moment." Your eyes must've persuaded him because he groaned before sitting down next to you and pressing his back against the headboard. You tightly grip his cold hand as you interlace your fingers together. You reach your head up and press a soft kiss to his neck. He turns to you and kisses you on your lips, a relieved sigh falling from his nose.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask and he pulls away, almost looking offended.

"No. Why would you think that?" His eyebrows scrunched together as his eyes are locked on yours.

"I don't know it's just ― stupid." You chuckle as his expression remains serious.

"I want you to be in your best condition now that our child is almost here. No stress, no anxiousness or worry. Everything will be perfect for them." He reassures you as his expression softens. A wide smile plasters your face as you lean up to kiss him once again.

He pulls away from your lips and leans down to lie his head against your stomach, holding your belly with both his hands. You reach your hand up to hold his head softly as you play with his hair.

"I know what the baby will be." You smirked as he raises his head to look at you.

"How would you know that?"

"Mother's instinct." You smiled as he raised an eyebrow at you. "― and maybe some magic." You chuckle.

"It doesn't matter. They would be ours, and I would love them nonetheless." His head is back on your stomach, a small smile on his lips as he feels kicking.

You pet his head as you admire him, knowing this man would do absolutely anything for you and your child.

"It will be a boy, Bi-han."

He pulls his head up quickly as he looks at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Truly?" He asks as you nod your head.

"A firstborn son, just as I am. He will be a strong leader." He softly caresses your stomach with the slightly of smiles on his lips, his eyes locked on your belly.

"Firstborn?" You jokingly asked.

"You don't wish to have a village of children?" He smirks as he raises his eyebrow at you. You laugh loudly and playfully hit him in the arm.

"Let us get through one child first and then perhaps we could have more." You shake your head as he scoots closer to you before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

#— hunterwritings #hunter speaks #mk1 #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #bihan #bihan x reader #sub zero #sub zero x reader

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tsumtsumrry · 2 years ago

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Sex Therapist

WC: 3.3k

warnings: riding the tiger (thigh riding), unprotected sex, language, a pinch of fluff, bit of soft dom!harry, a teensy bit of a breeding kink, and kinda pwp (porn without plot)

and he’s not actually a sex therapist

He’s striding towards the door with you trailing behind him, attempting to apologize for the fact that you weren’t even present the whole time he was literally inside you.

“Yeah, sorry. I just don’t―”

“Think it’s gonna work out? Yeah I gathered that.” he scoffs, his voice laced with venom.

Yet another one night stand gone to shit.

“I’m sorry―” you insist but he opens the door and walks right out of it before you can even finish your sentence.

It wasn’t entirely your fault, it wasn’t interesting, nothing made you want to be present. He just wasn’t doing it for you.

Yeah his ego must’ve taken a blow but it’s better than “leading him on”, per se, and having him finish while you just sit there and regret it all.

You blow a frustrated raspberry and walk over to your couch to plump yourself down on it, immediately regretting even talking to him at that bar tonight. He could’ve been a bit nicer about the whole thing. Even though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t help but feel a little guilty, and the way he seemed so disappointed only made you feel worse. God, you really need to grow a fucking backbone.

The worst part is you feel painfully sexually frustrated but you aren’t even in the mood to touch yourself, you just need someone to fix it for you. You desperately need someone to fix it for you.

You opt for just eating dinner, having a long bath and going to sleep, hopefully by tomorrow this dreadful overflow of sexual desire will leave you with some rest

Wishful thinking.

🟔

“Delicious, don’t ya think?”

You nod and hum and the taste of the pie, somehow it’s unlike any other you’ve tasted and you can’t thank Harry enough for introducing it to you.

“This is like heaven. How in the world did you find these?” you breathe out, your voice in something like a breathy daze like drawl.

“A friend of a friend.” He says, chuckling at your current state. He can’t even blame you though, it really is that good.

“I fucking love your friends.” You mumble and he chuckles with squinted eyes.

“‘Kay, now that I’ve loosened you up with food, mind telling me what’s been going on with you lately?” He says, his tone bordering a coax. It surprises you, the fact that he noticed and the fact that he’s bold enough to ask.

You and him don’t talk all that much, you have mutual friends, and when he’s in town he always says that you’re the first person he calls, but you don’t really believe him. It’s probably something he says just to be kind, that is his brand after all.

“Hmm?” you pretend to be clueless, taking another bite of pie. You could always lie, it’s not like he’d know the difference, right?

“You’ve been so, like, tense? I don’t know how to explain it but I can literally feel how on edge you are.”

Harry notices you’re looking anywhere but at him and he ducks his head to try and catch your line of vision, “hmm? What’s going on? You okay?”

Your heart flutters a bit at his genuine concern, but you know you still can’t vocalize the fact that you desperately need to get laid to someone you loosely consider a friend.

“M’fine, Harry,” you notice his look of pure disbelief, “really, I am.”

“You sure? Like I said I can feel how tense you are, and I’m never wrong about these kinds of things…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the movement of you licking some of the pie remnant off of your bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. I don’t bite and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.

You bite your lip in thought and once again his eyes follow, only this time you catch it.

It’s when he says your name with genuine worry in his voice that you finally look him in the eye and open your mouth to speak.

“Okay you have to promise not to laugh, or, like, judge.” you rush out, honestly not believing you’re actually doing this. It kind of helps that you and him aren’t all that close, it’s easier to tell him that it would be to tell someone else. He also just radiates charm and comfort, something that you’re sure he’s using to his advantage.

“I promise. Already told you I’m a great listener, love. Now what’s been bothering you?”

“I just, I’ve been so wound up and I can’t seem to fix it.” you finally say, hoping he gets what you mean by “wound up”.

“Well I usually meditate, trust me it works wonders. And if you really need it I’m sure I could book like one of those cool masseuse thingies for you.”

You groan quietly and he frowns.

“No, H, I―I’ve been wound up.” You stress the words more and you can see exactly when the realization flashes in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, do you have any problems with, like, finding people?” he offers quietly, trying to allude to one night stands.

“Yes actually. They can never―”

“Get you off?” he quips and your breath stutters with laughter. You mumble a small “yeah” and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“You ever tell them what you want?” he asks and you frown. You’ve just realized that no, no you don’t.

“No…” you mumble.

“Well there it is.” he says with a tone of finality and you pout.

“I mean I know I should, but sometimes I don’t wanna be giving cues while I’m having sex with someone, you know?” you speak softly, almost like you're embarrassed and you guess Harry can tell, because next time he speaks he makes sure his voice is soft and reassuring.

“No I get it, but you know most blokes are pretty lost when it comes to pleasing a woman in the bedroom. I know it must suck but you gotta help ‘em out a bit.”

“Yeah…” you pout again and Harry smiles softly at it, “I just want someone to like, know me, you know? Or just know a woman’s body in general.”

“I get it, love. Can I give you a tip?” he says , his eyes swimming with something you can’t quite pin down.

“Sure.”

“Tell them exactly what you want, every single thing. Being vocal is very important. Everything you’re feeling or not feeling, you should tell them.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” He says, looking you right in the eyes as he’s fiddling with his pretty rings. He leans down to get another bite of pie and you look around in thought.

You feel stupid for what you’re about to ask but you feel like you owe it to yourself to really get all you can from this rare type of conversation you’re sure you won’t have with anyone else besides a sex therapist. “Do you have any idea of what I should like...say?”

Harry pauses his chewing and his eyebrows raise in the slightest, you catch a tick in his jaw and you immediately regret asking the question. But just like he has been this whole night, he seems to read your mind and instantly answers your question like it’s the most casual thing he’s ever heard.

“For example,” he clears his throat, “if something feels good you can say good, if it’s not doing anything for you, tell them, and tell them how to...make it feel good.”

“And if they still don’t do it right?”

“Find someone new.”

“I feel like I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Maybe you need someone familiar.”

You can tell he almost regretted it when he said it, but there was also something of what seemed like determination in his eyes. You can only imagine the mental battle he’s having right now.

“Someone...familiar?” You say, your tone is nothing less than breathless.

“Mhm...someone you know, someone you trust, someone that can take care of you.” You know Harry’s noticed your change in breathing, the way you tried to subtly press your thighs together, you know he’s noticed and that’s why his voice has lowered to a calculated sultry tone that you know he only reserves for times like this. He’s downright seducing you and you don’t seem to have a problem with it, “any ideas?”

Now he’s just teasing.

You shake your head no, your breaths coming out as shallow puffs.

It’s only now you noticed that he’s been leaning in, he positions his mouth near your ear and his breath makes your entire body erupt in goosebumps, “do you want me to show you what it’s like? Hmm? Show you what it’s like to be cared for?”

You’ll be embarrassed later for how fast you agree, but that’s not important right now.

“Can I touch, pretty girl?” he whispers, pressing kisses below your ear, smirking when you gasp. “Hmm? Can I?”

“Yes. Please.”

All you get is a hum in response. He’s been keeping his hands to himself the entire time, but as soon as you gave the okay, his large hands moved to your thigh, trailing higher and higher but never quite getting where you want.

“Gonna let me kiss you?” he whispers again and you nod quickly. As soon as his lips envelop yours you let out a satisfied sigh, one that he returns with a hum and a small smile.

He moves his hands to your waist, swiftly ridding you of your leggings and your underwear after he asks for consent, his lips quirking from how quickly you said yes.

You notice him pause, he’s watching you with dark, hungry eyes, almost like he’s trying to figure out what to do with you. You feel sort of self conscious sitting here all exposed. You go to put your legs together but you’re immediately stopped by what sounds like a disappointed tut. Harry shakes his head, ‘don’t. Please.”

“Do somethin’ for me?” he asks and you nod softly. He pats his right thigh and you immediately know what he’s insinuating, you can feel the wetness reach your thighs.

You straddle his thigh, taking a sharp intake of breath when his muscles flex under you, directly on your core.

“This okay?” he asks.

“Yes, yes. Please.”

He smirks and places his hands on your hips, your eyes are squeezed shut, the butterflies that you feel all over overwhelming you.

“Open your eyes, poppet. Look at me.” Harry rasps, his forest green eyes moving rapidly across your face like he’s trying to commit this moment to memory. “So pretty. Always thought you were so pretty.”

You open your eyes, immediately meeting his, you can see them soften at the nervousness you’re sure is swimming in yours.

“You okay? You’re comfortable with all this? You know we can stop. As soon as you aren’t comfortable.” Harry says, his voice staying hushed and low, creating what feels like a safe bubble around the two of you.

“Yeah, m’okay. Promise.” you whisper out, and he shoots you a reassuring smile.

He rests his hands on your hips, tightening his grip when you hum and the warmth of his hands, and drags your hips in one slow, long roll on his thigh, “so wet. Feels so nice and wet on my thigh” He marvels, committing to a rhythm of slow, sensual rolls, having you panting and moaning on top of him.

“Look so pretty getting y’self off on my thigh like this. So fuckin’ pretty.” His thigh hitches up, causing you to gasp and crash down onto his chest. You nuzzle your head into his neck and he coos, bringing one of his hands up to your hair to pet you some. “Okay, baby?”

Baby. Your heart almost aches at the pet name. He’s really showing you what it feels like to be cared for. The whole nine yards.

“Yeah, s’just...a lot. Feels really good.” you mumble into his neck, you can almost feel him shudder when your breath hits his skin.

“Want more?” he whispers in your ear. You almost want to moan at how close he is.

“Yeah. Please.”

He keeps one hair in your hair, caressing and petting you, while the other resumes the movements of your hips on his thigh, speeding up. You gasp out in a bit of surprise and he hums. The skin skin contact is driving you completely insane, the muscles on his thigh are so toned and firm and perfect, so so perfect. It feels perfect.

You hadn’t realized you’ve been whispering it out loud until he coos at you yet again, squeezing your waist in encouragement. “Mhm. You’re so perfect.” he whispers.

You feel the familiar simmering in your belly, the tightening feeling that makes you wonder if you’re actually going to explode, only this time it’s more intense. Probably because you’re proper turned on and have a guy under you that knows exactly what he’s doing and that thought, that thought just makes your release speed towards you faster.

“Harry.” you whine. “Gonna come. Please―”

“Go ‘head. Come all over my thigh, pretty girl. Make a mess of me. Please, I need to see it.” he encourages you, watching as you tremble on him and your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting the pleasure completely overtake you.

You’re chanting out mindless praises and Harry’s comforting voice is helping you come down, ground you and make you feel safe.

“Good girl. Did so good. Came so pretty.” he praises, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

When your hand falls from his neck to his stomach, you immediately become aware of how hard he is. You look down, he’s hard, leaking even and you have no idea what’s come over you but you want it so bad.

“Harry.”

“Hmm, baby?” he whispers back, still peppering kisses all over your upper body.

“Fuck me.”

He hums again, this one a little higher than the last and his lips finally break away from your body, “fuck you? Are you sure, love? I don’t wanna preas―”

“You’re not. Please, please. I need you to fuck me.”

“S’okay baby. I will. M’gonna fuck you.”

“Thank you, thank you.” you chant, reaching down to give his cock, slow firm tugs. His mouth parts and he moans lowly, watching as your pretty hand works him, “condom?” he whispers, resuming his kisses on your skin.

“M’clean, and on the pill. Don’t want one.” Now this, this is something you never do. You never go without a condom. But you just need him. You need him to the point where you don’t want any barriers in the way, you just want to feel him. And the thought of him filling you up, the thought of being filled up by Harry, is nearly sending you into overdrive.

“I’m clean too, would never hurt you. You’re sure, though?” he double-checks. It’s downright mortifying how fast you nod.

“Right. You ready for me?” he mutters and you look up to meet his eyes, dark green clouded with lust and you just want to get so fucking lost in them. You cannot believe how cliché and sappy and all you’ve done is hump his thigh like a teenager, but you can’t find it in you to care.

“Please.” Is all you say. He lifts you up some and positions the tip at your entrance, swiping his cock between your folds, up to your clit and back down again, groaning at how wet you are.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous cunt.” he whispers, almost like he was saying it to himself. He finally slides himself in and you both gasp. He’s so...big.

Again you didn’t realize you'd said it out loud until he lets out a breathy chuckle, “thanks, baby. Y’pretty pussy is squeezing me so tight, fuck.”

“Okay to move?” he whispers, nipping and sucking at your neck, humming every time you let out a breathy moan.

“Yeah, please move.” you all but moan out.

He lifts your hips up slowly, so so slowly, and brings them back down the same in a sensual roll.

“Fuck.” he whines. And god is that the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You love vocal men, hate it when they act like a rock and expect you to make all the noise. You’re so glad that Harry is one of the good ones.

“You feel like a fucking dream, baby. So good on my cock.” he moans, directly into your ear and you shudder on top of him.

You’re riding him, but he’s doing all the work, thrusting up into you and making you practically scream and tremble on top of him, “Oh my fuckin―Harry!”

“That’s right, baby. You getting what you need? Tell me. Remember? You gotta tell me, sweet girl.” he rasps, moaning when you tighten around him at his words.

“Yeah, yeah. S’good, so good.” you mumble, barely coherently as he scrambles your brain.

He lays you down, hiking your leg over his shoulder and starts to get right back to fucking you into oblivion. A tingle runs down your spine at the new angle and you whimper out a weak call of his name.

You’re both sweating, you start to meet his thrusts, watching as his mouth drops at the feeling. “Yeah, baby. Fuck me back. Just like that, sweet girl.”

He can see it in your eyes, how much you want this release, scratch that, need this release, and he’s more than fucking willing to give it to you.

“You need to come? Hmm? Need me to rub your clit so you can come on my cock?” When you moan out a broken “yes” he tuts, “Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you need.”

“Please rub my clit, Harry. Make me come, I need to come.” you mumble out.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” he says with so much pride and warmth in his voice you feel like melting into the couch.

“Your good girl. Yours. Please.”

“Yeah, baby? All mine.” he leans down and for the first time tonight, he kisses your lips. And if you melted into the couch before you’re a puddle now.

His thumb finally lands on your clit and he starts to rub tight, quick, circles, driving you so close to the brink so fast.

“So close, so close. M’gonna come. Harry, please.”

“Come for me, baby. Know you can. Soak my cock. I need to feel you.” he spews out encouragement, moaning along with you as yours become more frequent and loud.

“Fuck yes, Harry.” is all you say before you go completely silent. Your mouth opening in a silent scream as you find your release, spasming uncontrollably on Harry, but his rhythm never falters.

“Good fucking girl. Christ.” he mumbles, not stopping his circles on your clit.

“Please come for me, Harry.” you whine out, bringing your hands up to interlock behind his neck.

“Yeah? Where do you want it?” he says, his voice sounding a beautiful type of strained.

“Inside. Inside me.”

The only time Harry’s rhythm falters is when he hears those words. You’re gonna fucking ruin him.

“Bet you’re just fucking dying for me to fill you up, fill you with my cum. You love it don’t you?” he taunts you.

“Yes. I want all of it.”

“Gonna fuckin’ c-come” He whines loudly before he thrusts into you five times in an uneven pattern and you can feel when it’s inside you. It’s so warm and primal and intimate and you don’t think anything compares to the feeling.

“Baby.” he breathes out before he collapses on top of you, suddenly craving the skin to skin contact and warmth of your body. “You are...remarkable. For lack of a better word.” and you’re both giggling.

“Mmm, y’so warm.” he whispers with a kiss to your slightly parted lips.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, H.”

“Anything for your angel face.” he smirks.

#harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry smut #dom!harry #old

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harrystylesfan2686 · 1 year ago

Text

Pieces Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader.

Summary: You finally confront Azriel about your feelings which ends in huge argument.

A/N: thank you to everyone who read and loved Pieces. I tried my best to make Azriel up to your expectations. I hope you all like this!

Pieces Masterlist

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I stopped making efforts with Azriel.

I stopped talking to him. Stopped waking up with him to wish him goodbye at the door. Stopped asking him about his day at dinner. Even stopped waiting for him to eat. I make our lunch, eat and get out of the house. Walking until I'm sure he's gone again. Come home make dinner, eat and sleep without waiting for him.

I accepted the fact that he doesn't want me anymore.

He still kisses me goodbye though.

So I guess there is still hope but I don't want it.

I open my eyes and glance to Azriel's empty bedside. I rub my eyes, already feeling tired even though I just started my day. I havn't been getting good enough sleep lately, staying up almost every night, rethinking everything over and over again. And when I do get sleep, it's always dreamless. I always feel like I fell alseep just a minute ago. I sit up on my bed to find a note on the bedside.

Dinner at Rhys tonight.

Four plain words in Azriel's handwriting. He didn't even sign it with his name. I sigh and get up from bed. I don't want to face anyone right now. I'm too tired to put on an act of being happy. Well at least I won't have to make food.

My throat feels scratchy. I warm up a little water to relieve the soreness but it doesnt make any difference. I suddenly sneeze, covering my face and freeze after realization finally hits me. I'm sick. I groan.

Can this day get any worse?

-☆-

When we arrived at the river house, I conversed with everyone for a while, catching up on everything after not seeing any of them for so long.

Feyre complemented my dress and commented on how my face looks different. I laughed a little saying that's because she hadn't seen me in so long, hoping my smile and lie seemed real enough for her to not get suspicious.

When I sneezed and coughed again, she figured I was sick and scolded me a little for coming, saying I should've stayed home and rested. I shrugged at that.

When we sat down on the table, Azriel whispered to me,"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" To which I had kept looking away and answered,"You didn't ask." He didn't say anything else to me and neither did I to him. In fact I didn't talk to anyone much and only spoke when asked to do so the whole time.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Azriel questioned when we walk into our house. I hang my coat on the coat stand and remove my shoes, taking my time answering him and finally say,"As I said before, you didn't ask."

"How was I supposed to know? And you didn't even spend much time with me. You went straight to Feyre, the second we entered and didn't talk to me at all the whole night." I could hear irritation in his voice which made me clench my jaw.

I took a deep breath,"I didn't realise you missed me so much considering you were glued to Elain all night." I spit out without looking at him and walk to our bedroom.

"What do you mean by that?" He follows me.

"Nothing." I sigh not wanting to have this argument right now but, of course, he doesn't care about that.

"No, tell me." He frowned.

"You talked to Elian all night so I thought, maybe I shouldn't disturb whatever conversation you must have going on." My lips thin as I look up at him.

"I had no choice but to talk to her because you didn't talk to me and and we were the only two people left alone." He said.

"Alright. But that was tonight. What about that other days and nights you spend with her? You like her. I get it. You don't need to explain yourself." My eyes fill with unwanted tears and I look away from him. I try to get away from him but he grabs my arm to keep me there.

"Yes, I like talking to her, but I would prefer to talk to you more." He says softly. I scoff.

"Don't lie az. Do us both a favor and accept it that you like her company better. I have." I snatch my arm back and try to walk away. He still follows me.

"No. I admit I like her company but no more than yours. You are more important." He stops in front of me.

"I don't believe that." A tear falls down my face. His eyes look into mine with confusion. "I watch you with her. How happy and content you look in her presence. Everyday you come home, speak barely two words to me and go back to her again." I fold my arms on my chest and look down. "You spend the time with her that youre suppose to spend with me. You tell her the things you should tell me. Your like her. More than me."

"That's not true. My love, I like you a lot more than her. You are the most important to me." His hand wips my tears and rests on my cheek. I rip it off me. "I don't believe you." I look at him with anger.

"You tell me Azriel, when was the last time you commented on my cooking? The last time you told how I looked? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you held me? The last time you truly listened to me?" His expression falls in realisation, as my questions grow. "When was the last time you told you loved me and fucking meant it?!" I breath heavy, looking at his face tilted down, eyes cast down.

"I-," He clears his throat. "I did always meant when I said I loved you."

I turn to the other side. I can't look at him. I cover my eyes and try to focus on settling down my breathing. "I think you should leave." I whisper and turn to him again.

His head snaps to mine. "No! No. No. No. Don't push me away. Please." His voice cracks and a tear falls down his eyes. "Please give me a chance to fix this. Please don't push me away." His hands on either side of me and puts his forehead against mine, eyes looking into mine filled with tears and anguish.

"You pushed me away first." I whisper, gently taking his hands off of me and his face crumbles as more tears fall down. I cry with him.

"I just need time." I watch him nod silently, wiping his face clear with his hands while stepping away from me.

"Okay. I'll be in the house of wind. Please come to me when you're ready. I want to fix this. I don't want to let you go." I nod silently, not trusting my words.

I watch him nod again and go out of the door, leaving me alone in the house we bought together. Leaving me alone for my thoughts and memories to haunt me in the dead of the night. I'll be alright though. I'll take my time to think everything through. I'll heal myself then think about giving azriel a chance to heal us.

I just need time.

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Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget

#acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel x femalereader #pieces

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sweets-library · 29 days ago

Text

Far Far Away

Shouta Aizawa/reader. Hizashi Yamada & Reader hurt/comfort. wc: 6.2k.

READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. DO NOT READ THIS IF THEY DO NOT APPEAL TO YOU. 18+ content warnings: Time outs, light punishments, use of daddy as a title, themes of discipline and D/S dynamics, a lot of caregiving in general

a/n: ok i dont wanna give too much away in the content warnings but yall know what i mean when i say discipline and d/s dynamics. no spanking this time tho! everyone clap for y/n Ao3

“Hi, baby. How are you?”

His voice came through steady and low and it immediately made you feel a little more grounded. You closed your eyes, gripping the phone tighter, as if that would bring him closer.

“Hi, Daddy,” you murmured, softer than you meant to.

A brief pause. Not hesitation, but recognition. Shouta had always been good at reading you, even when you barely said a word.

“…Sweetheart,” he said carefully, “are you doing alright?”

You bit your lip. Of course, he knew. He always knew. Normally, you would fumble your way into a call like this, a little shy, a little unsure before you were able to call him that special title. But not tonight. Tonight, everything felt raw, like a wound you couldn’t bandage fast enough.

“Um… I’m okay. I miss you.”

The lie hung in the air, heavy and brittle. He let it sit for a moment, giving you space to backtrack, to admit the truth. When you didn’t, he pressed gently.

“I miss you too, baby. Have you been taking care of yourself? Did you eat dinner?”

The tenderness in his voice was too much. Your throat tightened, and you looked down, ashamed, even though he wasn’t there to see it.

“Yeah. I mean… not really. I...”

Your words caught, tangled in a mess of guilt and fatigue. Shouta stayed quiet, waiting. He always waited, never rushing you, no matter how long it took.

“I… I messed up,” you finally whispered, the words cracking as they escaped. “I keep messing up. It’s like when you’re gone, I just… I fall apart. I can’t do what I’m supposed to do. I’m so fucking useless. It’s pathetic, and I just-”

“Hey. Stop,” he interrupted, firm but not unkind. “You know better than to talk about yourself like that.”

The sharpness in his tone cut through your spiralling thoughts, snapping you back to the moment. You took a shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “You’re going to be mad, and I deserve it. I’ve been so awful, and I-”

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening just enough to break through your panic, “I need you to listen to me, okay? I’m not mad. I’m not going to be mad. But I need you to tell me what’s going on so I can help. Start from the beginning. Take your time.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and inhaled deeply, the way he’d taught you before.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Work’s been crazy. Overtime, deadlines, and then I come home, and I just… I can’t turn it off. I keep working, or I just stare at my computer feeling guilty that it's not getting done.”

Shouta hummed quietly, encouraging you to continue.

“And I haven’t been eating right,” you added, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’m so tired I can’t cook, so I just order takeout, or I skip meals. And then I feel guilty because I’m spending too much money, and I know you wouldn't let me do this, and it’s just this cycle I can’t get out of.”

Your breath hitched, and you clenched your free hand into a fist, nails biting into your palm.

“And my chore chart,” you said, your voice breaking. “I stopped filling it out. I couldn’t keep up, and every time I looked at it, I just… I felt so useless. Like I can’t even do the basics.”

Silence. Not the cold kind, never with him, but the kind that felt like an open hand, waiting.

“Are you done?” he asked gently, after a moment.

You hesitated, then nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said. “First things first: I need you to breathe for me again. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You obeyed, drawing in a long, shaky breath and letting it out slowly.

“Good,” he said, his tone softening even more. “Now listen to me. You’re not useless, and you’re not lazy. You’re overwhelmed. You’re tired. And you’re human. That’s all.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he interrupted firmly. “You’re doing the best you can, and that’s enough for me. Always.”

The tears came harder then, the weight of his words breaking through the fragile dam you’d built around yourself.

“Sweetheart,” he continued, his voice steady and calm, “where are you right now?”

“In the living room,” you sniffled, wiping at your face.

“Good. I want you to stay there, okay? I’m going to call someone to check in on you, just to make sure you’re alright.”

“No, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he said, cutting you off gently. “Because I care about you. And because I’m not there to do it myself, as much as I want to be.”

The thought of him worrying about you, of him arranging for someone to come over, made your chest tighten, but not in a bad way. For the first time in days, you felt like you weren’t drowning.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re going to get through this together. You’re not alone, no matter how far apart we are. Remember that.”

You breathed steadily, the sound of Shouta’s calm voice blending with the faint tapping on his end as he made the call. Reinforcements, you thought bitterly. Because you couldn’t handle yourself. The shame curled tightly in your chest, a weight pressing down. How ridiculous it was that he couldn’t even leave you alone without things falling apart. You swallowed hard, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts.

“Alright, kid,” Shouta said, breaking the silence. His tone was gentle but authoritative. “Hizashi’s finishing his show in about an hour. He’s going to come straight to you after. That gives us some time to talk, okay? Does that sound good?”

His steady control over the situation soothed you, unravelling the frayed edges of your nerves. This was why you needed him. With Shouta, you could let go, surrendering the reins that felt so heavy in your own hands.

“Yes, please, Daddy,” you mumbled, the words almost a whisper.

“Good. Put me on speaker and head to the bedroom,” he instructed. “Change into your pajamas.”

You obeyed without hesitation, the simplicity of his commands grounding you in a way your chaotic thoughts couldn’t. Shouta’s voice followed you as you moved, steady and guiding.

“Now brush your teeth,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Take your time.”

You followed his instructions, the familiar rhythm of your nightly routine slowly easing the tension from your shoulders. Step by step, he walked you through it: brushing your teeth, washing your face, doing your hair. Each small task felt like a lifeline, pulling you out of the spiral you’d been trapped in.

By the time you sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of you, your breathing had evened out.

“Alright,” Shouta said, his voice calm but purposeful. “Let’s talk about the chore chart.”

You sighed, the mention of it making your stomach twist. 'Chore chart' wasn’t quite the right name for it. It was more like a self-care guide, a list of small tasks meant to help you stay on track when Shouta wasn’t around. Taking pictures of your meals to send him, jotting down one thing you were proud of in your journal, tidying up small areas of the house, it was supposed to help. And it had, for a while.

But lately, it had felt like a mountain you couldn’t climb, a constant reminder of how far you were falling behind.

“Do you think it’s still helping you?” Shouta asked, his tone free of judgment. “Or is it starting to feel like too much? The point is for it to support you, not to add stress. If it’s not working anymore, we can scrap it.”

“No!” you blurted, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, I like it. I do. I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a sip of water to steady yourself.

“I got so busy,” you continued, “that I kept missing things. And once I got behind, it just… it felt awful. Writing down ‘forgot’ or ‘failed’ on every square, like I was disappointing you. Like you’d come home and see how bad I was doing.”

Shouta was quiet for a moment, the weight of his presence palpable even through the phone.

“Sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but firm. “The chart isn’t a report card. It’s not there for me to judge you. It’s there to help you stay balanced, to remind you to take care of yourself. Missing things doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you human.”

You bit your lip, the tears threatening to return. “But it feels like I let you down.”

“You could never let me down,” he said simply. “You’re doing your best, and that’s all I ever ask of you. If the chart isn’t working right now, we’ll figure out something else. Together.”

The knot in your chest loosened, just a little. Shouta’s calm reassurances felt like a balm, soothing the ache of your self-doubt.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said softly, his tone warm and steady, grounding you. “We’re going to take this one step at a time. I’m here for you, even when I’m not physically there. You’re not alone in this, understand?”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes, though the lump in your throat still lingered. “I understand.”

“Good. For starters, I want you to leave the chart as it is until I get back. We’ll rework it together to better suit what you need right now,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Instead, I’d like you to text my personal phone throughout the day, the one I left at the agency. It's turned off and locked up so nobody will see it till I get back. Just send little updates about how you’re feeling and what you’ve been doing. That way, I can read them when I’m home, and we can go over what felt good or bad. It won’t be staring at you from the kitchen wall, and it won’t feel like a looming reminder. Does that sound easier for now?”

You paused, considering his words. It did feel easier, less like a record of your failures and more like a conversation. Something about the idea of texting him felt gentler, more forgiving. At least then, you wouldn’t have to see the evidence of your perceived shortcomings every time you passed through the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I think that’s better.”

“Alright,” Shouta said. There was approval in his tone, but it wasn’t smug or self-satisfied. It was simply… kind. Encouraging. “Now, I need you to listen to me carefully. You don’t have to agree to this. In fact, I don’t want you to if you’re not completely sure it will be good for you.”

“Okay,” you replied, your voice tinged with nervous curiosity.

“Do you want to agree on some punishments for this past week?” His tone remained steady, but there was a thread of hesitation, as if he was carefully weighing each word before saying it. “If you want to wipe the slate clean until I get back, that’s perfectly fine. In fact, I’d encourage it. But if you think it would help you feel less guilty and more grounded I’m willing to discuss it.”

Your breath hitched at his offer. A part of you had hoped for this, even though you hadn’t dared to bring it up.

“Yes,” you said quickly, your voice trembling with both relief and desperation. “Yes, please. I’m so sorry, and I want- I need to fix it. I need to feel like I’ve made up for everything I did wrong.”

There was a pause, the kind that stretched just long enough to make you wonder if you’d said too much. But when Shouta spoke again, his voice was as steady and calming as ever.

“Alright,” he said gently, though there was still a hint of caution in his tone. “If this is what you feel will help, we can talk about it. But you need to understand something first. This isn’t about punishing you for being human or for struggling. It’s about finding a way to help you let go of the guilt. If, at any point, it feels like too much, or if you change your mind, you tell me immediately. Understood?”

You nodded again, the weight in your chest easing just a little. “Understood.”

The discussion took up most of the time you had left, your voice trembling as you pushed for punishments that were harsher than you deserved. But Shouta, calm and steady as always, gently shut you down each time.

“No, sweetheart,” he said firmly when you suggested scrubbing the floors by hand. “Thats not going to solve anything. You’re not trying to wear yourself down or punish yourself into being better. You’re learning to take care of yourself. This isn’t about exhaustion; it’s about growth.”

His words carried the weight of authority, but there was no harshness in them. Still, each rejection left you feeling raw, vulnerable, until finally, with his guidance, you both settled on a plan.

“Alright,” Shouta said, his tone resolute but kind. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

You were to write 10 lines of positive affirmations in your journal every night till he’s home, a task designed to combat the negative thoughts you’d been drowning in. “And I mean real affirmations,” he clarified, his voice stern but compassionate. “No half-hearted ‘I guess I’m okay.’ I want to see sentences like, ‘I’m strong,’ ‘I’m capable,’ ‘I’m doing my best.’ Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmured, the weight of his expectations settling on your shoulders.

“Good,” he said. “You’re also going to log off your work computer by six pm. No exceptions. And no screens at all after eight. That includes your phone. I’ll still call you at 8:30 but that is the only time it should be in your hand”

Your usual bedtime of a lenient 11 was now a firm 9:30. Shouta had been clear: this wasn’t a punishment so much as a safeguard, a way to ensure you were getting the rest you so clearly needed.

Finally, he brought up the hardest part.

“And I’m going to have Hizashi check in on you over the phone in the afternoons,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “He’ll make sure you’re staying on track and looking after yourself. It’s not negotiable.”

You swallowed hard, guilt bubbling up at the thought of imposing on Hizashi. “I don’t want to bother him…”

“You’re not bothering him,” Shouta interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “He cares about you too, and he’s happy to help. You need to let people support you, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard, Hizashi can be a loudmouth, but he's patient, and he's good at picking people up. I trust him with my life and yours baby, do you?”

You nodded reluctantly, the logic in his words undeniable.

“And tonight,” Shouta continued, his voice softening just a fraction, “you’re going to take a 15-minute timeout in the corner while Hizashi’s there.”

The suggestion hit like a blow, your stomach twisting with embarrassment. “What?”

“This isn’t about shame,” he explained gently, anticipating your reaction. “It’s about reflection. I want you to think about how you’ve been treating yourself this week. Think about the fact that you could have asked Hizashi—or any of your friends—for help instead of letting things spiral. You’re not a burden, and it’s important you start believing that.”

“But why does he have to be there?” you asked hesitantly, your voice small.

“Because I want you to have someone there to bring you back down to earth if you start feeling overwhelmed,” Shouta said simply. “I’m trusting Hizashi to make sure this exercise is constructive, not self-flagellating. And, if you’re feeling brave enough, maybe you can talk to him about how you’ve been feeling. I know the guy talks a lot, but he can be good at listening too, if you let him.”

The knot in your throat tightened, but you nodded again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

“You’re stronger than you think, kid,” Shouta said, his tone softening even further. “None of this because I’m angry. I’m doing it because I care about you, and I know you can get through this. One step at a time, remember?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill again. “One step at a time.”

Then a soft chime interrupted the moment, and Shouta sighed, his tone shifting to one of reluctant responsibility. “Honey, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Duty calls.” His voice softened as he continued, “I’ll call Hizashi and fill him in on what we decided, okay? He’ll be there soon.”

The hour had flown by, leaving you wishing for just a little more time. The lump in your throat was hard to ignore, but you swallowed it down, trying to sound steady.

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, Sho. I miss you so much.”

The line was quiet for a beat, and then he sighed deeply, his voice rich with warmth. “Sweet girl, I love you so, so much. You hear me? More than anything. And I am always proud of you. I’ll be home before we know it, baby. Just hold on for me a little longer.”

His reassurance wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing the ache in your chest.

“Hizashi will be there in about 20 minutes,” he continued, his tone regaining its usual calm authority. “Go ahead and start on your lines while you wait for him. You’ll feel better once you’ve written a few. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, baby. Same time, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the heaviness in your heart.

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

And then, with a quiet click, the call ended, leaving you staring at the phone, the room suddenly feeling quieter and colder without his voice.

You took a deep breath, glancing at the journal on the table. Even though he wasn’t there, his presence lingered in every word he’d said, steadying you. With a small nod to yourself, you picked up your pen and opened the journal, ready to take the first step forward.

Writing lines is hard. The pen feels heavy in your hand as you try to think of nice things to say about yourself. The first few are simple—things Shouta would remind you of, like “I work hard” or “I care about others.” But as the list grows, so does the weight in your chest, and by the time you’ve scratched out seven, you’re staring at the page like it’s mocking you.

The knock at the door jolts you out of your thoughts. Your stomach flips with dread, and you take a moment to steel yourself. Mortification burns hot in your chest at the thought of what’s coming next, but you can’t exactly keep Hizashi waiting.

You open the door, and before you can say a single word, the blonde sweeps you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight, warm hug.

“Baaaaby!” he exclaims, his voice bursting with its usual vibrancy. “Why didn’t you call me? Here I am, missing out on hanging with my favorite listener, and she’s sitting here all down in the dumps? That’s just cruel!”

Despite the dramatic delivery, the embrace is exactly what you need. The tension in your shoulders melts away as you lean into him without realizing it, letting yourself feel the comfort he radiates so effortlessly.

When he finally pulls back, his hands come up to cup your cheeks, squishing them gently until your lips puff out. His bright, expressive eyes scan your face, and while his pout is exaggerated, his concern feels genuine.

“Look at this face,” he says, shaking his head like he’s utterly scandalized. “How could you think for even a second that I’d be too busy for you?”

“Hi, Hizashi,” you mumble, still feeling small but lighter now, the edges of your lips twitching into a shy smile. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve got a lot going on…”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with mock indignation, sending his long braid swaying behind him. His glasses sit slightly askew from the dramatic hug, but he doesn’t seem to care as he flashes you a grin.

“Never too busy for you, babycakes,” he says firmly, his voice softening as he rubs your shoulders gently. “Now, come on. Let’s go sit down and get comfy. Sho filled me in, so we’ve got a plan to tackle this together, okay?”

You nod, the knot in your chest loosening a little more as he ushers you toward the couch. Hizashi’s presence is like a burst of sunshine in your quiet storm- bright, warm, and just distracting enough to make the heaviness feel less suffocating.

As he passes through the kitchen, Hizashi’s sharp eyes catch sight of your journal lying open on the table. With his usual flair, he sweeps it up dramatically, reading your lines so far with a gasp that’s clearly over the top.

“Heyyy, baby! Look at you, crushing it already! These are solid gold affirmations,” he says, giving you an encouraging grin. “I’ve got a few ideas to spice up this list, though. I mean, ‘I care about others’ is cute and all, but how about ‘I’ve got a killer sense of humor’ or ‘I light up any room I walk into?’”

You can’t help but laugh at his delivery, a perfect mix of genuine pride and playful bravado. He carefully sets the journal back down, tapping it lightly with his finger. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you finish these before bed. Just, uh, let’s keep it between us. Can’t have that strict old man knowing I cheated and gave you an edge, right?”

You smile back, but you know he’s full of it. You remember the time, not long after he’d learned about yours and Shouta’s dynamic, when he joked about you writing your lines in both English and Japanese. You didn’t even think Shouta cared if you made spelling mistakes, he just wanted you to work through it.

Still smiling, you follow him into the living room. Hizashi plops down onto the middle cushion of the couch with all the grace of a collapsing star. His long limbs sprawl out in every direction, and he rests his hands lazily on his knees, eyes glinting up at you mischievously.

“Alright, honey,” he says, his tone suddenly mock-serious. “Any last words before I throw you in the slammer?”

At first, the playful edge to his voice makes you want to giggle, but then the weight of his words sinks in. Your face flushes crimson, and the reality of the situation hits you; he’s actually the one overseeing this. You hadn’t realized that Shouta had implied Hizashi would be the one in charge of your time out. You thought he’d just be there for support, to keep you grounded and make sure you didn’t break down. Now, though? The idea of sitting in the corner under Hizashi’s watch feels like a whole new level of mortification.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt, your voice barely a whisper. “I, um… I didn’t think you’d actually…”

Hizashi tilts his head, his grin softening into something more understanding.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says gently, his voice laced with compassion. “You know this isn’t about me being strict or scary, right? It’s about taking a breather and giving yourself space to think. Shouta just wanted me here to make sure you’re okay and give you a hand, not to intimidate you or anything like that.”

His words ease the knot in your chest, and the tension in your shoulders melts away a little. Still, the thought of sitting in the corner, thinking things through under Hizashi’s watch, makes your face burn.

“Come on, babycakes,” he teases gently, taking your hands in his. “We’ll make this quick and painless. You do your time-out, I’ll brainstorm some killer affirmations for you, and then maybe we can watch a little something before bed. Sound like a deal?”

The room feels both too quiet and too loud, the hum of the air conditioning amplified in your ears as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. The embarrassment sits heavy in your chest, curling around your thoughts like smoke, but Hizashi’s easy grin cuts through it like sunlight breaking through clouds. His lighthearted nature softens the edges of your discomfort, even as the flush on your cheeks refuses to fade.

“Good,” he says with a playful wink, his voice warm and teasing. “Now let’s get this show on the road. Tell me, what are you gonna think about in your time-out?”

The question catches you off guard. You bite your lip and drop your gaze to your hands, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. Shouta’s methods were always straightforward. He’d tell you exactly what to think about, have you repeat it back, and that was that. Being asked to decide for yourself feels unfamiliar, like stepping onto uneven ground.

“Um…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “I’m gonna think about… how I should have called you?” The answer feels small, tentative, and your voice barely rises above a whisper.

Hizashi hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if considering your response. “Hm, close! But not quite,” he says, his tone gentle but firm. His hands rest on his knees, his posture open and unthreatening, but his bright eyes hold a certain focus that tells you he’s taking this seriously. “I don’t want you to get stuck thinking about what went wrong. I want you to focus on what you can do better next time. Think constructive, baby. What’s a way you could handle things differently when you’re feeling low? What else can you come up with?”

The pressure to answer makes your heart race, and you glance around the room as if the walls might offer you an answer. The warmth of the living room, the cozy throw blanket draped over the couch, the faint smell of coffee lingering from earlier, feels at odds with the knot tightening in your stomach. You take a shaky breath, trying to focus.

“I could… think about ways I could’ve reached out sooner?” you say finally, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Hizashi’s face lights up with approval, and he leans forward slightly, his enthusiasm infectious. “That’s a good one, baby,” he says, his voice softening. “You’re getting there. And listen, you’re not alone in this, okay? I need you to really hear me on this; people love you. I love you. We’re here to help you out, no matter what, day or night.”

The sincerity in his voice is like a balm, soothing the raw edges of your self-doubt. You swallow hard, his words settling deep in your chest, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. Even as your thoughts swirl with guilt and hesitation, his presence feels steady, like an anchor keeping you from drifting too far.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. You nod slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time since this started. “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, his smile soft and full of pride. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders feels just a little lighter.

Hizashi ruffles your hair with a fond smile before turning you gently by the shoulders, his hands warm and steady. “Alright, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice both reassuring and firm. “Go think it over, and I’ll be right here when you’re ready. We’ll figure this out together.”

Your steps are slow as you move toward the corner of the living room, the weight of the moment settling over you like a heavy blanket. The familiar position feels strangely different with Hizashi there, the shift in dynamic making your heart race. Memories surface- Hizashi dropping something off at the apartment once while you were mid-time out, his gaze carefully avoiding you. Back then, he’d respected the unspoken boundary, probably at Shouta’s request, and you’d been grateful for the quiet discretion.

But this? This is different. This isn’t him passing through or pretending not to notice. He’s here, fully present, guiding you through this moment. You’d already come to terms with him knowing about your relationship with Shouta; it had been discussed openly, with your consent, and you trusted him completely. Still, the vulnerability of having him step into this role, even temporarily, makes your cheeks burn. Yet beneath the embarrassment, there’s a surprising sense of security.

You stop at the corner, place your hands behind your back, and lean forward until your nose gently touches the wall. The routine feels grounding, the familiarity of it giving you a strange kind of comfort. You take a deep breath, letting the quiet settle over you, broken only by the faint rustle of Hizashi shifting on the couch.

“Alright, perfect!” Hizashi’s voice breaks the silence, his tone playful but underscored with a steady firmness. “Keep that cute little nose right there until the timer goes off. If you need to back out, just say your safeword, okay? But other than that, no talking. Don’t interrupt me while I’m projecting good thoughts into that head of yours.”

A small, involuntary laugh escapes you, and you quickly bite your lip to stifle it. His energy is so different from Shouta’s, lighter, more playful, but no less earnest. You know he means every word, even if his delivery makes you want to smile. There’s a distinct sense of safety in the way he handles this moment, balancing humor with care, structure with warmth.

The initial embarrassment fades slightly as you focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing. Hizashi’s presence behind you, calm and unyielding, is a reminder that this isn’t really punishment. It’s a pause, a chance to reflect and reset. You trust him, just as you trust Shouta, and that trust anchors you now. Even in the quiet vulnerability of the corner, you know you’re not alone.

As you stand there, nose to the corner, your thoughts churn restlessly despite your efforts to calm them. Hizashi’s words echo faintly in your mind—focus on what you can do better next time. But it’s hard. The guilt gnaws at you, dragging your focus back to everything you feel you’ve done wrong. Why didn’t I reach out sooner? Why do I always let it get this bad?

You shift slightly, your shoulders tense as you try to redirect your thoughts. Hizashi wouldn’t want you stuck in this loop. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and force your mind to pivot. Okay, maybe next time, I’ll text someone right away. Even if I feel stupid, I could at least try. But the moment you think it, the doubt creeps in. What if I’m just a burden? What if I bother them at the wrong time?

Frustration bubbles up, and you clench your hands at your sides, determined not to let the negativity win. Hizashi’s voice comes back to you, bright and steady: “People love you. I love you. We’re here to help you out, no matter what.” The words feel distant but steady, like a rope to grab onto in the storm. You latch onto them, even if they don’t fully sink in yet.

What if next time I… I write it out first? Maybe I could figure out what I’m feeling before it gets overwhelming. Or maybe I could reach out to someone before I even get to that point. The ideas are shaky and uncertain, but they’re something. You try to focus on them, repeating them in your head like a mantra, holding onto the hope that you can do better.

Gradually, your body starts to relax. The ache in your chest softens, replaced by a tentative clarity. The week’s weight—the guilt, the fear, the constant tightrope of holding yourself together—begins to loosen its grip. You realize, with a startling pang, how much easier this could’ve been if you’d let someone in earlier. It’s not a new revelation, but standing here, forced to confront it, the truth hits a little deeper.

The pearl of anxiety over Shouta’s safety still lingers, sitting in the back of your mind. It’s quieter now, though, like the volume has been turned down. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe around it again.

The sharp buzz of the timer jolts you, and you jump slightly, startled. You blink, disoriented, realizing how much time has passed. Your legs feel a little stiff, and you shift on your feet, grounding yourself. To your surprise, your eyes are dry. Normally, time outs leave you a mess of tears and raw emotion, but you’ve already had that release earlier with Shouta. Now, you feel steadier, like you’ve taken a step forward, however small.

You don’t move right away, waiting for Hizashi. You know he’d want you to wait for his cue, and besides, a part of you needs the moment to process. His voice cuts through the quiet, warm and familiar.

“Aw, good girl, com'ere,” he calls, his tone full of affection.

You turn, and the sight of him with his arms open wide melts the last bit of tension in you. You shuffle toward him, letting him pull you into a tight, comforting hug. For a few moments, you just exist in the embrace, soaking up the warmth and care radiating from him. It anchors you, grounding you in a way that words can’t.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’m proud of you.”

And for the first time in a long while, you start to feel proud of yourself too.

But then, the yawn that had been threatening to break free finally caught up with you, forcing your jaw open in an exaggerated stretch. The sound was loud in the quiet room, your exhaustion betraying you.

“Someone’s running on fumes,” Hizashi teased, his voice laced with amusement as he tilted his head. “Alright, superstar. Let’s knock out those lines, and then I’ll tuck you in so you can get the rest you need. Capiche?”

His lighthearted tone made you giggle, and with it came a sense of relief. That suffocating weight you’d been carrying for days felt a little lighter now, a little easier to manage. Even though your body still sagged with fatigue, your chest felt clearer, like you could finally take a full breath.

Hizashi’s grin softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze. His touch was warm and grounding, somehow managed to settle your racing thoughts even further. It wasn’t just the contact, but the way he made you feel seen and cared for in such a simple gesture.

Without needing to say more, he guided you back to the table where your unfinished lines waited. You picked up the pen, but something had shifted. The task didn’t feel like a burden anymore. It felt manageable, almost comforting in its simplicity. Hizashi didn’t hover or rush you. He sat nearby, close enough that his presence kept you steady but far enough that you had the space to focus.

As you wrote, a realization began to settle in your chest. For the first time since Shouta had left, you felt okay. Not just okay even, but good. It wasn’t just about getting through the task; it was the knowledge that you didn’t have to do it alone. Hizashi had stepped in, seamlessly filling the gap, offering support without making you feel like a burden. His guidance wasn’t overbearing; it was steady, gentle, exactly what you needed.

You felt like you could handle things on your own now if you had to, but more importantly, you didn’t have to. That distinction was a quiet but powerful comfort. Someone had your back, even in Shouta’s absence.

As you finished the last line, you let out a small sigh, the words on the page feeling like a tangible victory. Hizashi gave a little cheer, clapping his hands softly in celebration.

“See? Told you you’d knock it out of the park,” he said, beaming at you.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your heart warming at his unshakeable enthusiasm. Hizashi was truly an amazing man, bright, compassionate, and endlessly understanding. You thought about how much he’d helped tonight, how he’d given you exactly what you needed without you even having to explain. Those thoughts swirled in your mind, filling you with gratitude and a quiet sense of awe. You knew you’d talk to Shouta about it when he got home, but for now, it wasn’t necessary.

For now, all you needed was to let yourself rest. The warmth of Hizashi’s presence was enough, his steady support wrapping around you like a blanket. You set the pen down, leaning back with a soft yawn as Hizashi moved to your side, ready to guide you to bed.

“Alright, let’s get you snuggled up,” he said softly, his teasing edge replaced with a gentler tone.

And for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into that care without hesitation, letting the weight of the world slip away as you breathed in the quiet comfort of knowing you were never truly alone.

#shouta aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #aizawa x reader #present mic x reader #aizawa/reader #daddy k!nk #the real kink is all the careing #idk what else to tag so thats gonna be it ig

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