#i had 4 hours sleep and have been awake for 18 hours

[potatoplace]

A Place In This World

The Afterthought: Chapter 5 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

chapter 4 | chapter 6 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Working at Sevenda's is a welcome escape from the River House, where you've become little more than a ghost after Starfall.

Warnings: toxic family, depression, self deprecating thoughts (none of them are too terrible this chapter)

Words: ~8.4k

Author's Note: I never seem to get as far in the plot as I want to in every update... This chapter isn't too crazy exciting, but there's some sweet moments and a little bit of angst with the sisters. I hope you all enjoy this update! Title is of course from Miss Swift 🫶

18+ only pls

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Your neck was stiff when you came to, the beginnings of the morning sun spilling across your face.

The ground outside was glistening with a fresh layer of snow, nearly untouched at this time in the morning. It seemed even the early risers had chosen to sleep in today, after the revelry of Starfall last night.

You, however, wouldn't stay asleep any longer. Not with the cold numbness slithering through your chest, curling itself around your heart, your lungs, your ribs. An absent hand came to rub at your chest, to bring some semblance of life into your hollow heart once more.

No such luck.

A glance at the clock that had recently been placed above your bedroom door told you that it was half past six.

That gave you two and a half hours to bathe, drink tea, possibly eat something, dress, and make your way to Sevenda's.

You did just that, sinking down into hot water, a sigh leaving your lips as your body soaked in the heat. You could almost pretend you felt alive.

After forcing yourself from the bath, you dressed in a simple, dark green dress. It was made of cozy wool, and the long sleeves were easily pushed up to make whatever work Sevenda would give you easier. It fit you loosely and reached to just above the tops of your feet, something you were grateful for after last night.

The feel of all those males' eyes on you... It was unsettling then, and unsettling to think about now. You could hardly imagine wanting to be looked at like that by someone you actually liked, let alone by strangers... How could Feyre stand it? How could anyone stand it? You supposed each person was different...

You shook your head, clearing those thoughts away. No need to contemplate how inexperienced you are in the romantic world, despite what Nesta claims.

Quietly, you crept downstairs, keeping an ear out for anyone who might be awake, teapot in hand. Thankfully, no one was in the kitchen yet, and you were able to prepare a pot of tea with no interruptions. Safely ensconced in your room again, you sipped at the lovely orange and cinnamon tea you had made.

As you stared out at the still-sleeping city, your mind drifted to last night. How Feyre had had no time for you, and Mor hadn't appeared while you had been in the House of Wind. Feyre had been crowded by the citizens of her city, that was understandable... Mor not showing up worried you though, but you were sure there was an explanation. And your other sisters and their mates, well, you hadn't believed they would interact with you anyways.

Azriel had been... Surprising. Caring. Sweet, almost. Him noticing that you had left wasn't something you had even considered, with how close he had been with the pretty redheaded friend of Nesta's. And... You had become accustomed to not having your absence noticed.

Your eyes closed for a moment, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You still felt so alone.

The minutes continued ticking past as you stared blankly out the window, sipping on your tea when you remembered to.

Soon enough, it was fifteen minutes until nine, and you peeled yourself out of the armchair. Boots first, then the short cloak, scarf, and mittens Azriel had given you for Solstice- also the ones that he had draped around you last night in the cold.

You wondered how he had gotten them...

You just barely remembered to grab the cup that Sevenda had lent to you before you snuck out of the River House, into the snowy city.

The walk to Sevenda's was peaceful, quiet. Most citizens of Velaris seemed to still be sleeping, and the blanket of snow on the ground muffled everything. The silence of the normally bustling city matched the feeling in your heart.

Empty. Cold. Quiet.

Sevenda's was warm already, the smell of spices lingering pleasantly in the air when you pushed your way in through the door.

"Ah, Y/N! Lovely to see that you decided to come in," Sevenda's warm voice greeted you from the left, a hand waved in greeting.

"It's nice to see you too, Sevenda. And thank you, again. I really appreciate the offer. I brought back your cup," you added, raising your hand to show it.

"Thank you, dear," Sevenda said, taking said cup from your hands. "Would you like to get started?"

You nodded your head, and let the fae lead you to the back of the restaurant, into the kitchens. It was large, with multiple shiny, silver stoves along the back wall, three matching cold boxes, a wall completely taken up by pots, pans, anything that you would need to cook. There was also counter space galore, with two other fae already working dough in the far corner.

"For today, I'm going to see how you do with prep work, mainly with fruits, vegetables, and meats. If you do well, I'll keep you on full time, if you'd like," Sevenda said, her words sparking a bit of hope in your chest.

Chopping, dicing, cutting. You could do that.

"That sounds perfect, Sevenda. Thank you for giving me this chance."

Sevenda smiled warmly at you, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Of course, dear. Now... Are you feeling alright?" She asked more quietly, a concerned look in her eyes.

You nodded. Even though you weren't, you didn't want to rehash last night's events. "Yes, thank you." You even shot her a smile that you hoped was at least half-convincing, relieved when she returned the expression. "What should I start with?"

"First, you'll need an apron and to wash your hands," Sevenda said, leading you to the large sink, which conviently had a plethora of aprons hanging on hooks next to it.

You did as she asked, scrubbing your hands under hot water halfway up your forearm, dress sleeves already pushed up to your elbows. You tied a dark blue apron around your neck and waist, and faced Sevenda, who was pulling a cutting board from a cabinet. You noted the location, wanting to be as useful as possible as often as possible.

"I'll start you off by demonstrating how I like everything to be cut, and you'll do the same thing right after. I know it will be a lot to take in, but most of it is fairly simple. Let me know if you have any questions, alright?"

"Alright," you said resolutely, nodding your head.

The hours passed quickly, filled with you absorbing the information that Sevenda was feeding you through her demonstrations, taking in every angle that she used the knife at. You did decently, your cuts a bit clumsier than Sevenda's but still accurate enough. She was kinda, reassuring you that in time, you'd gain confidence and surety in your movements.

It was lovely.

Feeling needed. Feeling useful. You had entirely forgotten how that felt over the last two years, being the extra sister with no magic to help in a way that someone else couldn't.

By the time your shift was finished, Sevenda had pulled you aside to speak with you, anxiety building in your gut even as she smiled warmly at you.

"I'd like to hire you on immediately, full-time if you'd like," Sevenda offered, a twinkle in her eyes. "You've already got the basics down, and you're on track to catch up with my other prep cooks so long as you keep at it with the same enthusiasm you showed today. So... Would you like to have a job?"

A smile- a true, unburdened smile spread over your lips. "I'd love to, Sevenda. Thank you so, so much for this opportunity."

"Thank you for solving my dilemma of hiring a new prep cook, Y/N! Now, do you have an account with the Bank of Velaris already?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "I do... But it's the one that Rhys and Feyre set up for me. Would I be able to make a new account?"

You still felt like such a child, knowing so little about how the city you lived in worked. You had spent so long wishing and longing to leave that you'd hardly taken the time to learn about Velaris. Seeing how you were stuck here, likely permanently... The thought sent a pang of sickness to your stomach. But still, since you were stuck here, you might as well start learning about the city in which you will die.

"I'm sure that could be set up... Would you like any help with it?" Sevenda asked.

"That would be amazing, but you don't have to," you said, hoping that she didn't feel forced to help you, after your breakdown last night.

"Oh, nonsense, I'd love to help you Y/N. We can go in a few minutes, I just have a few more questions for you. Now... Would you like to work five or six days a week?"

That was an easy choice. "Six days would be best, I think." Less time in that house, waiting to be left out of events and dinner conversations.

"Alright, and if you ever want to go down to five days, just let me know and we can work something out. Do you have a specific day that you'd like off?" You shook your head. "Would Mondays be fine with you?"

"Mondays would be just fine," you replied. "Do you..." You paused, rolling the question over in your head. "Do you know of any apartments for rent? You don't have to answer, of course, I just thought I would ask," you said quickly, already regretting the question.

Sevenda merely smiled at you. "I do know of a few close by. Once you have a week or two of pay in your account, we could go look at a few sometime, if you'd like?"

You nodded quickly. "That would be amazing, Sevenda. Did you have any other questions for me?"

Sevenda closed her eyes for a moment before fixing them on you once more. "None that I can think of at the moment, but you'll be back tomorrow in case I forgot anything. Now, let's go get you a personal bank account," she said cheerily, rising from the table you had sat at. You followed her lead, letting her take you to the large, white marble building that had a large matching sign with, presumably, its name written in the large gold lettering on it.

Making an account was easy enough, and within the hour you had a small metal card, magically linked to your bank account in hand, your first day of pay already deposited by Sevenda.

You walked back to her restaurant with her, parting with a brief hug, initiated by Sevenda.

"I'll see you in the morning, Sevenda," you said, the words repeated back to you by the kind, chocolate eyed fae.

And then your legs carried you without thinking, back to the River House. The snow had melted just slightly, and was significantly more trampled than when you had arrived this morning. The sun was nearly set already, casting a pretty orangey-pink glow over the city.

Pretty.

The River House was warm when you entered, and thankfully there was no boisterous laughter coming from the living or dining rooms.

A part of you still longed for someone to ask where you were, what you had been doing all day.

But you knew better by now. And you were proven correct when no one came to greet you, even while you made a small dinner of rice with grilled vegetables. You even ate in the dining room, a rarity for you in the past months, the tiniest part of you hoping that Feyre might come in to talk with you. Or that Mor would show up, and you could spend part of the evening together.

Neither happened, and soon enough you were back in your room, a fresh pot of tea in hand, soothing, calming lavender and chamomile again.

You had enjoyed your day at work, but it had exhausted you. All you wanted at the moment was to fall asleep, but you chose to do something else before crawling into your makeshift bed in the tub tonight.

You would try to read. With your gift from the twins in hand, you pulled the cookbook that Nesta had gifted you, filled with lovely illustrations of soups and stews from all corners of Prythian.

Slowly, you let the magnifying glass read out the title a few times, your brain trying to make sense of the letters on the cover turning into the words you were hearing. It was embarrassing, how long it took you to be able to understand a sentence, even with it being read aloud to you. Heat rushed to your face, even with no one in the room to witness your shortcomings.

You tried reading a recipe, going one word at a time with the glass. That... Sort of worked, though it was slow going. And you felt like the only reason you were mildly successful was that the words were being read aloud to you.

How pathetic.

You sighed heavily before draining your last cup of tea and shutting the recipe book. That was enough of disappointing yourself for the night.

You stripped yourself of the dress you'd donned the morning, changing into a soft, long sleeved white cotton sleep dress that met the skin of your ankles, swishing softly against them with each step.

Sleep came easily to you that night, your body tired from doing so much work when it had grown accustomed to sleeping all day and rarely moving. It was a pleasant kind of tired, though, letting you drift into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning went much the same, with you rising before the sun to bathe and have a soothing pot of tea. Work flew by, with you completely focused on improving your knife skills for the seven hours you were there, determined to not let Sevenda down.

Before you knew it, you'd already worked three days in Sevenda's homey restaurant, settling in comfortably, even with the other fae you now worked with. Josi and Torma were the other two prep cooks, and both of them had been warm and welcoming to you. Sevenda's sous chef, Wren, had been a little less friendly, but you'd noticed that he was like that with everyone except Sevenda. He wasn't rude, or anything, just quieter.

It was on your fourth morning of work, a Saturday, that your routine was interrupted.

Azriel was in the kitchen, patiently watching a pot of oatmeal cook, shadows playing around his wings and over his shoulders, a couple of them breaking away to crawl up to his ears.

"Good morning," you said quietly, going to the cupboard that housed the kettle.

"Good morning, Y/N. You're up early," Azriel remarked in a neutral tone, neither judging nor questioning.

"Mm, thought I'd have a cup of tea before everyone else was buzzing around..." You said, feeling mildly guilty that you hadn't told him the full truth. You set to filling the water and setting it on the burner next to the one Azriel was using, then turned to grab your teapot. "Would you like a cup?" You asked before you could stop yourself and consider the possibility of being rejected, even for a simple cup of tea.

"I would very much, Y/N, thank you. Would you like some oatmeal? I'm afraid I've made too much..." Azriel said softly, a tiny frown on his face as he stared at the pot before him.

A small smile grew on your face at his reaction. "That would be nice, thank you." You pulled two of your teacups out of the cupboard. A few minutes later, the two of you were sat on stools at the kitchen island, a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of tea in front of each of you. The oatmeal was delicious, flavored with cinnamon and brown sugar, which paired well with the apple cinnamon tea you had brewed.

You ate in a comfortable silence, occasionally stifling a giggle when a shadow brushed over you, their cool touch tickling the back of your neck and your ankles. Curious little things...

Soon enough, though, it was time for you to depart from the River House, and return to the one place that you felt wanted in this city. Azriel had finished his breakfast as well, so you grabbed his dishes, ignoring his protests in favor of washing them.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

You rolled your eyes playfully, even though he couldn't see your expression. "I know that, I wanted to." Bowls, cups, silverware were all placed in the dish rack, clean and shiny from the water dripping off of them. Once that was finished, you returned to your room for a brief moment to grab your scarf and hat, and when you returned downstairs Azriel was lingering near the front door.

"Going somewhere?" Azriel asked neutrally, only a bit of curiosity in his tone.

You blinked at him once, twice. Strange, that it would be him who would know that you were employed first. "Yes, I'm going to work," you said plainly, hoping that his neutrality would continue. While you wanted your sisters to know... You wanted them to find out because they paid attention, not because Azriel had.

"Oh? Could I walk you there?" His question caught you off guard- if anything, you had anticipated him asking if Feyre or Rhys knew or had approved of the job. In your surprise, you nodded in agreement, and moments later the two of you were out the door, walking through the fresh layer of snow that had fallen overnight. You noticed a few of his shadows moving in front of you, pushing some of the snow from your path.

Cute.

"How long have you been working?" Azriel asked from your right, following the path you were taking.

"Just a few days, so far," you replied, trying to give the minimum information so you wouldn't bore him... Starting a new job was hardly an accomplishment for a fae of his age.

"Are you liking it?"

You nodded immediately. "I'm loving it already, working with food is probably the most natural choice I could have made." Too many words...

"That's wonderful, Y/N. It's nice to see you smile again," Azriel said softly, drawing your eyes to him. He was wearing a small smile on his lips, one that you realized matched your expression. A light flush spread over your cheeks- was your happiness always so obvious?

"It's nice to feel like smiling again..." You said quietly, more to the air around you than Azriel himself.

Sevenda's was in sight now, and you slowed your pace. While Azriel may just be being nice... He was still being nice to you. And having someone be kind to you was something you craved nearly every second of every day, so you wanted to savor it, even if it was selfish.

"Do..." Azriel paused, as if he was considering his words carefully. "Does Feyre know that you're working? She hasn't mentioned it."

"Uhm... No, I haven't told anyone yet," you admitted.

You saw Azriel nod his head in your peripheral, and you hoped it was one of understanding.

"Do you want them to know?"

You hesitated. "If you're asking if you can tell them... I'd rather you not."

Another nod as you approached the door to Sevenda's, stopping in front of it. "I won't tell them, then. Sevenda's, hmm?" You bobbed your head in confirmation. "That's good, she's a great boss from everything I've heard."

"She's amazing, if I can be honest," you said, gratitude in your voice. And she was. She had been so kind to you, and so helpful.

"I'm glad, Y/N," Azriel said, his voice the warmest that you had ever heard from him. "I'll let you get inside. Have a good shift."

"Thank you, Azriel. Have a good day," you said, waving goodbye to him before entering the warm restaurant, a smile on your face.

Your day passed quickly, filled with the delicious smell of spices and fresh cut vegetables, the sounds of sizzling meats and bubbling stews. This job at Sevenda's was truly a blessing, distracting both your mind and body as you listened to the friendly chatter between your coworkers and focused on what you were doing.

The River House sounded empty when you returned, completely devoid of sound. No running water, or voices in the living room. The entire night, you saw no one, not even Nuala or Cerridwen. You even spent a few minutes sipping tea in the living room - though you left quickly, feeling out of place even while alone - hoping to see Feyre for a moment. You hadn't seen her since Starfall, and... You wanted to see her. You also would have been able to ask her where Mor was, but alas, the question would have to wait.

The next evening, after your final day before having a day off, you saw Feyre for the first time in five days. She was glowing with happiness, both naturally and from the magic you knew she had gotten from... One of the High Lords - you still weren't sure which.

"Y/N! Come, sit with me for a little bit," Feyre said, dragging you onto the couch in the living room with her. You had just barely gotten your boots and scarf off before she met you in the entryway. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"It has been a bit," you agreed, settling in beside her. You glanced around, noting that Nesta and Elain were seated next to each other on the love seat, angry stares trained on you.

At least they weren't glaring yet...?

"So, how have you been?" Feyre asked you, drawing your attention away from your other sisters and back to her.

"I've been fine, Fey. Just..." You debated telling her about your job. That would also mean Nesta and Elain knowing... But... You wanted Feyre to know. "I've been... I've been working."

Nesta scoffed from where she was seated, whispering something to Elain. You frowned. What problem could she possibly have with you having a job?

"Really?" Feyre asked skeptically. "You... Where are you working?"

Her tone, the sheer disbelief in her voice had you regretting ever opening your mouth. Being honest was obviously not a good choice for you anymore. "At Sevenda's restaurant..." You said quietly, met with a dainty snort from Elain. Heat rushed to your face, especially when Feyre frowned at you, as though she didn't believe you.

"Really? That's... That's really nice, Y/N. I'm happy for you," Feyre said with a strained smile. You didn't believe her for a second.

Still... "Thank you, Feyre. What about you? How have you been feeling?"

"Tired," Feyre moaned dramatically, a hand on her forehead. "The little one seems to be draining all of my energy, I've had to start eating double what I normally do just to feel like I can function."

"Maybe you can stop by Sevenda's when Y/N is working," Nesta suggested in a snarky tone, causing Elain to giggle into her hand. "If she even works there... What Sevenda would need with you, I have no idea."

Tears pricked at your eyes, though you fought them. Why were they so mean to you?

Feyre glared at Nesta, but said nothing in your defense.

She probably agreed with Nesta's words.

"I'm sorry that you're feeling so exhausted Feyre. Maybe there's something that could be taken off your plate for a little bit, until you're feeling better?" Another scoff from Nesta.

"I don't think there is, Y/N. It takes a lot to run a court..."

You knew that. Of course you knew that. "Oh... Well, I hope that you feel better soon, then. I'm... I'm going to go take a bath. I'll see you later?"

Feyre nodded. "I'll see you later. At dinner?"

There was no way in hell you would be showing at dinner tonight. "Maybe," you said, standing from your place next to her. You made your way out of the living room, ignoring Nesta and Elain's glares, up the stairs and into your room.

Happy. You had been happy when you returned home. You were proud of the fact that you had gotten a job. And yet the three people that should have cared, should have shared in your happiness and pride? They couldn't care less. They didn't even believe you.

That only served to solidify your choice to leave this cursed house as soon as you could, to continue in your plan to have your own living space. And, of course, it put tears on your cheeks, on the blanket that you curled into as you laid in the bathtub.

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In your first three weeks of work, you never saw Mor. You did, however, receive a letter from her on your first day off, read to you by the glass the twins had gifted you. She had apologized profusely for not showing up to Starfall, though she had a good reason. The citizens of the Hewn City had demanded to have a member of the High Lord's Inner Circle stay with them through the celebration, and as the only one already there, that duty had fallen to her. And in the week since, she had been constantly fighting with Keir over the upcoming election that was planned, hardly having a moment to herself.

Which was why the letter had taken so long to be written.

You felt horrible for having thought she had abandoned you, though you knew there was a reason you had jumped to such a conclusion.

Every week since then, Mor had managed to find the time to write you a letter, each one asking about how you had been, informing you of the lastest bullshit her father had put her through. You looked forward to each letter from her, but wished that you could see her in person, or at least write a letter in response. You missed your friend. According to her most recent letter, the one that had arrived two days ago, she would be returning to Velaris for a few days in the next week.

You were excited to see her again, but more than that, you were excited to move into your apartment today.

Sevenda had shown you to two different available apartments last week, and on Monday you had signed your lease. The building was only a couple of blocks away from Sevenda's, and it was a cute little place on the third floor, with a balcony that had a decent view of the mouth of the Sidra and the harbor. You already knew that you would be taking your tea on it once the weather had warmed, the view was too amazing to pass up an opportunity to look over.

The walls inside had already been done in a shade of light pink the day before, the cabinets of the kitchen coated in a pale lavender, a move in gift from your new landlord. It was a small space, that was true. Besides the bathroom and built in closet, the apartment was one large room, with no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, the kitchen from the bedroom.

But you didn't mind.

Because it was yours.

And truly, how much space did you need? There would be enough room to have a small dining table, a loveseat and a couple of armchairs in front of the fireplace - which you had been absolutely delighted to see - and a large bed. You could even put up screens or curtains to partition off your bedroom, if you felt like it.

The possibilities felt endless as you lugged your small amount of belongings over to your new place, bursting at the seams with happiness.

Today, Sevenda had given you the day off so that you could move in, though you had tried to insist that you wouldn't need the whole day. Still, she had made it clear that you deserved the day to settle in and purchase whatever you needed, even going as far to give you a week of advanced pay.

Moving your belongings took you less than an hour, even in the snow, and only three separate trips between the River House and your apartment. The presents you had recieved for your birthday and Solstice, the clothing that you couldn't part with, skincare items, and your hairpin all went with you, but everything else in your old room stayed.

You had decided against informing anyone of your move, choosing instead to quietly remove your things. If they truly cared about you, they would notice your absence soon.

If they didn't... You would deal with that if it came.

By midday, you were shopping in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, on the hunt for cookware. You already had the wonderful measuring cups and spoons that Nuala and Cerridwen had gifted you, as well as your tea set from Azriel, but you would need a bit more than that to be able to cook at home.

That lead to you entering a lovely little shop, filled to the brim with pots, pans, and cooking utensils in every color of the rainbow.

For now, you only bought one frying pan and one pot with a lid, both in a shade of pink that matched your measuring cups. You also purchased a set of three mixing bowls in the same shade, made of a light but durable clay. A spatula, wooden spoon, whisk, and a set of silverware also came home with you, along with a few cleaning supplies that the store happened to carry, but anything else could wait for now.

You carried your bounty home, arms sagging under the weight of your purchases as you climbed the stairs to your apartment. Everything was put away in a matter of minutes, and you allowed yourself to relax on the floor for a bit, letting your arms flop out to the sides.

You could hardly believe it... A smile crept across your face as you lay on the floor of your own apartment, that you had earned the money for. You had done this for yourself, all on your own.

Once your arms felt less weak and tired, you sat up and looked around the room. It was... Fairly barren. Your pink bedding set and blanket from Mor were in the far right corner of the apartment, the box of your clothing placed next to it. Near the door to the bathroom you had placed your box of toiletries, and in the kitchen you had already stacked your cookbooks and teas on the counter and placed your dishes in the cupboards.

You needed some kind of furniture tonight, if you could manage to find something your weak arms could carry home.

And towels! How had your forgotten about towels? Oh- and food, you would need something at least for tonight.

You let out a breath. Maybe Sevenda was right, that you would need most of the day to get settled. You got up after another moment and put your boots back on, along with your hat and scarf.

A trip to the Palace of Thread and Jewels provided you with the towels you needed, in an assortment of pastel shades and sizes, as well as a fluffy purple bath mat. You even remembered to pick out two fluffy pillows as well, just in case you slept on the floor or in the tub tonight. As you were leaving the Palace, you couldn't help but pick out a soft, sky blue blanket one of the outdoor stalls, the green skinned fae bidding you farewell with a kind smile. You walked home, snow beginning to fall just before you entered the building.

You deposited your bags on the floor to the left of your front door, and set down the stairs immediately after locking up. Before the snow started to accumulate, you wanted to get a chair or something so that you would have a place to sleep for the night. If you couldn't find anything... Well, the bathtub looked to be the same size as the one in the River House.

When you had been out earlier, you thought you had spotted a second hand store, filled with mismatched furniture. You retraced your steps, and found it to be in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Inside, it was cluttered, with small paths leading through the building. It was near the back of the store that you found something you might like- a tall backed, wooden chair with a pink velvet cushion and backing, the legs of the chair curved and elegant.

Why would someone ever part ways with this?

You continued to the back of the store, finding a pale, short fae male sitting behind a counter, reading a book.

"Hi, I'd, uhm... I'd like to buy a chair that you have?" You asked shyly.

"Which one?" He asked, without looking up from his book.

"The uh. The wooden chair with pink velvet on it."

"Fifty gold marks," the male said shortly, a hand extending to take your bank card and press it to his ledger, all while continuing to read. He handed it back a moment later. "Have a good day, miss."

"Thank you," you said quietly before leaving the counter, going to collect the chair into your arms.

The walk home was slow going, the chair decidedly too big for you to comfortably carry for more than a few steps at a time. But still, you made it, dragging the piece of furniture up the stairs and through your door. You managed to lug it in front of the fireplace, settling into it for a moment.

You almost decided to skip getting ingredients for dinner... But your stomach rumbled in protest, at the thought of continuing to neglect your health in favor of avoiding discomfort. So instead, you pulled yourself from your new chair, then went back down the stairs and into the snowy city one last time today.

The Palace of Hoof and Leaf was a bit further than the Palace of Bone and Salt, but you knew where to find what you were planning to cook for dinner. It was easy enough to find rice, chicken, zucchini, broccoli, and a small set of spices, a large enough selection to satisfy you for at least your first month. Snow had begun to fall heavily while you had been in and out of shops, already covering the tracks that had been on the bridge when you had crossed it earlier, and when you finally made it up the stairs and through your front door, you were feeling tired.

Tired enough that for the moment, you placed the chicken in your cold box then walked over your chair, and plopped down.

You would consider today a success, even with how tired you now were. After all, you were tired in your chair, in your apartment.

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Two days after you moved, you had an unexpected knock on your door, just a few minutes after you returned home from work.

Perhaps it was finally Feyre, realizing that you had moved.

You were proven wrong when you opened the door, however, to see Azriel standing before you, a cloth bag filled to the brim with little jars.

"I- Hello," you said, surprised at him being here, even if he had taken to walking you to work on the mornings he was in town. "Can I- Can I help you?"

"I just returned from Illyria, only to find one of my shadows to be very frantic over the sudden emptiness of your room," Azriel said, though there was no accusation in his tone. "And after I spoke with Sevenda, she... She directed me here. I hope that's alright?"

You were even more surprised by the efforts he had gone to to find you, than his presence at this point. "That's fine, Azriel. Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

"I... Yes," Azriel said, somewhat shyly, and you swore that you almost saw a flush covering his cheeks. "You never did tell me which teas you enjoyed, so I brought you a jar of each. I thought you might like to have a bit more, now that you're living on your own."

That was... Incredibly sweet of him to do. You were running low on your tea stash at the moment, and knowing that he'd thought of you...

Don't get any feelings, or hints of feelings, you reminded yourself. Humans and fae don't belong together, no matter how kind and attractive they are.

"Thank you, Azriel," you said, stepping aside to let him through the doorway. It was only polite, after all, to let him in. "I'll take those," you said as you grabbed the bag from his hand, moving into the kitchen to take arrange the little jars on your counter.

"You don't have a bed," Azriel observed from behind you, a hand on your chair, where your blankets were still piled.

"Oh, I'm uhm... I'm still working on that," you said sheepishly, abandoning your task of organizing the jars. Your eyes darted over everything, looking for anything else he could find issue with.

"Let's go solve that, then."

"I- What?" You asked, thoroughly confused. He was offering to go shopping with you...?

"We can go find you a bed today, Y/N. You need something to sleep on, and while a chair is fine for a little bit, it really would be best for you to have a bed," Azriel said simply. You were still staring at him in shock, so he sighed lightly and said, "Think of it as a housewarming gift, Y/N. You can pick out whatever you want, and my shadows will bring it here for you."

"I- But... Why?" You managed to get out, even as you mentally kicked yourself for being so awkward.

Azriel's mouth turned up in the corners at your reaction. "You need a bed, and I'd like to know that you're sleeping comfortably."

"But... Why?" You repeated, still confused.

Azriel sighed and shook his head. "You're my friend, Y/N, I like to know that my friends are well taken care of. And that starts with a good night's sleep, which starts with a bed," he explained as he walked over to your closet, pulling out the scarf and hat that he had gifted you. He wrapped the scarf around your neck and put the hat on your head, lips turning up more as you stood there and let him. "Now get your boots on, unless you really don't want to go."

Your eyes narrowed playfully at him, but you did as he said, slipping your boots on and lacing them up. "Alright... Thank you, Azriel."

His lips turned up into a full smile this time, a beautiful sight on his face. "You're welcome, Y/N. Now, let's get going before it gets too dark."

You let him lead you across the Sidra, to a shop in the Palace of Flame and Steel that specialized in wooden furniture.

"Pick out whichever one you like most," Azriel had told you, with a pointed look telling you that he would know if you tried to pick the least expensive option.

He watched as you went from bed to bed, mattress to mattress trying to find the right combination. You had been in the store for nearly an hour by the time you made your choice, settling on a walnut frame. It had a nice headboard, with little creatures carved into the posts on both sides, a feature that was continued at the corners of the end of the bed. Some of them looked like little cats, a pet that you had always wanted to have but never could afford in the human lands, and when you had been able to, your family had firmly shut the idea down.

For the mattress, you had laid on one that felt like a cloud, supporting your body in a way that you had never experienced. Perhaps... Perhaps Azriel was right, after all.

You felt dreadful, though, as he paid for your new furniture, even as he reassured you that it was a housewarming present and he was more than fine paying double the amount if he had needed to.

He walked you back to your apartment, and, as promised, your new bed was already set up along the back wall, looking extremely inviting even without bedding on it.

"You should let me repay you," you insisted to Azriel, a hand on his forearm stopping him from leaving. "I can't... This is too much," you said.

Azriel's eyes shined with understanding as he read the guilt in your own. "It's okay, you know. To be given things, without the need to reciprocate. But... If you still feel that you need to repay me, I suppose you could make me dinner some time," Azriel suggested.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Are you sure I can't pay you back?"

He shook his head. "The only payment I will accept is in the form of food, Y/N. Again, this is a housewarming present, it is a gift that I am giving to you of my own free will. I am, however, partial to your cooking, which is why I would accept that as payment."

You sighed, but nodded your head. You would pay him back with food, as often as he liked. "What days are you in the city?"

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

It took two more days before Mor was in town, which you found out about two hours into your shift when she burst into Sevenda's, speaking loudly enough that you could hear her in the kitchen.

A moment later Sevenda appeared, your blonde friend in tow.

"Y/N!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you into a hug once you had set down your knife. "Oh, girl, I have missed you so much!"

You squeezed her back tightly, overjoyed to see her again. "I've missed you too, Mor!"

Mor pulled away a moment later, her face serious. "Where are all of your things? I went up to your room in the River House to see you, and none of your stuff is there! Feyre had no idea either..."

A flush spread over your cheeks. "Oh, uhm... I moved out?" You said hesitantly.

Mor blinked at you a few times before a smile slid over her face. "You... Moved out?" She giggled. "And you didn't tell anyone? Was it this morning?"

You shook your head. "No, it was on Wednesday," you admitted softly, turning your gaze to the floor.

"And Feyre didn't... Oh, sweets," Mor cooed, pulling you into another hug and stroking your hair. You pushed her away after a moment, face bright red at being comforted in front of your coworkers.

"It's okay, Mor, really. I've already accepted that they don't notice me," you said, hoping that you had successfully hidden your pain. You may have accepted that your sisters pay you no attention, but it didn't mean your heart didn't hurt.

Mor frowned at you, but accepted your answer for the time being. "Well, when are you off work? I can stop by again, and you can show me your apartment!"

"I'm normally off right around five, you could come back then."

"Sounds like a plan, sweets!" Mor said brightly before leaving the kitchen, waving at you before being shooed out by Sevenda.

You quickly got back to work, determined to make the day pass by quickly.

And it did. The next five hours went by fast, filling you with a feeling of accomplishment as you finished everything Sevenda had asked you to do a few minutes faster than usual. Something as simple as that made your day so much brighter, easier to fight away the feeling of loneliness that followed you most hours of the day.

Mor met you outside as she'd said she would, a shining ray of sunlight even as the sun had begun to set.

"So- I leave town for a few weeks, not that I wanted to," Mor grumbled as you linked arms with her and began to lead her to your apartment. "And when I come back, you've already had a job for three weeks and you've moved into your own apartment? I am so proud of you Y/N."

You blushed at her words, but still allowed yourself to soak them in. "Thank you, Mor. I'm glad that you're okay with it."

Mor frowned. "Why wouldn't I be okay with it? I think it's amazing that you decided to move out, everyone deserves their independence."

You nodded, but your thoughts were on your sisters... What they surely thought of you, leaving without a word... "It's just... I don't know. My sisters... Weren't very supportive of me even having a job, let alone having my own apartment."

"Oh, hon, don't worry about them. I think they're just jealous of you having your own life outside of our little circle. Now, Nesta and Elain... They could certainly use a talking to," Mor hissed. "And Feyre isn't much better, letting them get away with their behavior."

You shook your head. What would they have to be jealous of? Being lonely? Having at most three friends, if you were being generous with the term? "It's fine, Mor, really. I've stopped expecting them to act any certain way, it's just... Easier."

Mor sighed next to you. "I suppose so... Anyways, tell me what's been going on!" Mor said cheerily, sensing your hesitancy to speak about your sisters.

"Well... Not much, beyond the moving out and getting a job. Although..." You thought about Azriel, how you now considered him a friend- and he thought the same of you. "Azriel has been very nice, he brought me some tea blends when he found out I moved. And helped me find a bed."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Mor said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You smacked her arm lightly and shot her as much of a glare as you could muster.

"Not like that Mor!" You exclaimed, blood rushing to your cheeks at her insinuation. "He helped me go to a store and his shadows brought it back to my apartment."

"Oooh," Mor laughed. "Okay, I misunderstood, Y/N. I'm glad that he's been a good friend to you while I've been away."

"I am too, Mor," you said softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.

You unlocked the front door of your building, letting Mor pass through the doorway before you, then led her up the stairs.

"Three flights? I must be spoiled, only having a flight to go up one at my place," Mor said by the time you reached the top, your fingers fumbling for the correct key.

"It's not all that bad, Mor," you giggled as you swung the door open, letting her go in first, and closing the door softly behind you.

"Oh, Y/N! This apartment is so you!" Mor said brightly as she looked around. "The bed looks amazing." She flopped down on it, sighing happily after she did. "You chose good, sweets."

"Thank you," you giggled, plopping down next to her. "I'm so glad the owner was willing to paint, it saved me from trying to do it myself."

"And it looks lovely too, and as I said, very you. So," Mor started, a hand flung onto your thigh. "I thought, if you have a day off while I'm in town, we could do a sleepover again! Either here or at my apartment, whichever you'd prefer."

"That sounds lovely Mor. If you're still here tomorrow, and you don't have plans tonight, I have tomorrow off," you offered.

"That's perfect! I'll go get a change of clothes and pick up some food on my way back, if that works for you, Y/N."

You nodded. "That sounds like a plan to me, Mor. I'll see you in a little bit?" The two of you stood from your bed, Mor's hair the tiniest bit rumpled from being squished against your mattress.

"Yep! Any preferences on food?"

You shook your head. "Anything is fine by me Mor, get whatever you've been missing while in the Hewn City."

Mor's face scrunched up at the mention of the Hewn City. "Don't remind me," she groaned. "I think I'll get some kind of pasta. Pasta sounds perfect for a sleepover."

"That sounds good to me. Walk safely, Mor, it's been slick out at this time recently," you warned, smiling when Mor winked at you playfully.

"I'm always careful, sweets. See you in a bit!"

You shut the door behind her, a smile on your face. You hadn't realized just how much you had missed your friend until you saw her again.

Not wanting to waste your alone time, though, you pulled yourself into the bath, determined to finish before Mor returned. While you didn't feel disgusting, you felt a bit dirty from work still, and if you're spending the night with Mor you'd like to smell decent.

Still, you let yourself relax in the steaming water for a few minutes, bubbles coating the water's surface. Your lungs expanded and collapsed rhythmically, lulling your heart into a state of peace.

Maybe... Maybe you could belong in Velaris.

Maybe it was your sisters that you didn't belong with, any more.

But with Mor? With Azriel? At work? You felt like you had begun to carve out a tiny little place for you to exist peacefully, if not happily.

A deep sigh left you.

You wished... You wished you could belong with your sisters once more. Your heart longed to see them, to share your joy with them. But... They never seemed to share in it with you.

So, you would settle for carving out a space for yourself.

No, it's not settling, you told yourself as you began to scrub at your body with a cloth. It's choosing to live, not to merely exist.

You may not know what you want out of life, but you're willing to find out now.

You willing to try your hand at living once more.

🤍🤍💝🤍🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

The Afterthought Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix @sirenpearldust @marrass @satiresunflower @mae-foster @boo-shalala @optimisticbabydreamer @sttvrdustt @bunnybella186

[spicyicymeloncat]

I couldn’t respond earlier bc I was out but THIS

THIIIIIIISSSSS

WHY ARE MOST OF THE FANDOMS IM IN LIKE THIS.

THIS IS LIKE MY MAIN GRIPE WITH FANDOM (I’m in hater mode constantly because of this)

Long ranty post incoming, warning for opinions, discussion of sexism and brief discussion with “problematic ships”

Writers will show up and give you the most detailed world and people will have shipping wars for no reason.

And like I am in the boat of “enjoy fandom however you like, it’s your blog your content do what you want” but it’s disheartening when you’re on a tag for a franchise and none of the content is real or true or about the show and it just leads to a lot of other unpleasant problems with fandom. It’s fine if you do enjoy some of the things I’m about to complain about but the issue for me is when it completely dominates fandom bc it’s just incredibly boring to me personally.

AND DISCLAIMER. I do like shipping! Just not only shipping. It’s like butter. I like butter in my sandwiches but not tons of it on its own. I want the cheese or ham or lettuce and bread in my sandwich too. I’d like to enjoy the whole sandwich and the whole media franchise.

BUT LIKE CAN WE PLEASE talk about the huge mischaracterising and flanderisation that happens when people care more about a specific relationship dynamic and basically make content for that but with the costume of a specific fandom as long there’s a single hint of that happening. Like people just like a ship trope and they slap any old character onto it.

And it’s always the same fucking “they’re divorced <3” like I get it you like divorced old men (examples: the Magnus archives, Lego monkie kid) . And yknow I feel like all the fandoms I’m in have just a mlm couple and sometimes that’s the entire fanbase (examples: see above, Zelda, project sekai). Which at times feels a lot like a normalised version of just yaoi fangirling which has a lot of weird implications for society.

And also can we talk about women. Because whilst most fandoms tend to have THE MLM tm ship, sometimes fandoms have favourite men characters who don’t have to be shipped in order to be popular. But most women in the fandoms I’m in seem to only be popular because they can be shipped and this is such dated behaviour. (Example: Skylor vs Morro from Ninjago, again 80% of the cast of project sekai it makes me so mad). Like fandom only know horny or haunted by trauma fr fr /hj.

And like yknow, there’s also the normal amount of passive misogyny as a factor, such as women just being less popular in general (the Magnus archives has popular NON CANON ship of Elias and Peter which has no excuse of being so popular in comparison the two main cast canon couples of Melanie and Georgie or Basira and Daisy (ofc it makes sense that Jon and Martin are popular bc they’re the main main characters)

Like sometimes it feels like fandom is so romance oriented that women are simplified into their romanceability and they see this treatment much more than men (but this defo does happen to men and non binary people too but in general these are patterns). Also there’s also the immense woman hate when a piece of media has been implying a het romance but the fandom likes the gay ship more. I’ve seen this happen with Nya from Ninjago, this is basically happening with Yona from totk (and I’m going mad over it).

And speaking of romance orientated things, rip to anyone who looks into a hc tag and it’s entirely flooded with x reader and in like gentlest way possible all of those posts are not very in character and I guess they aren’t supposed to be, they’re just supposed to look dateable but like you see why that can be annoying right. Like I wish we had literally any other kind of headcanon. I wanna know a characters food preferences, I wanna know their medical history, I wanna know what kind of music they like or if their bilingual or what subjects they’d study at school. I want a description of literally any other relationship other than romantic.

But. But. The biggest rest in peace goes to fandoms where they’re main character roster is all sibling dynamics. My bestie is in the dc fandom and tmnt and like. Rip. Disastrous and terrifying. Deepest condolences. An entirely sibling cast combined with people determined to ship everything under the sun leads to unsavoury concepts. And yknow it could’ve been avoided if people realised that other relationships existed. And btw I said at the top that I think it’s fine to enjoy some things I complain about, this one doesn’t count. If you’re out here specifically glorifying and romanticising child relationships , sibling relationships or abuse, then you need to change your mindset. I don’t wanna get into the pro/anti bs, but like if you’re out here with the intent on saying that those relationships are perfectly fine, then I suggest getting therapy or something.

Other than that, generally it does frustrate me when it feels like a franchise is wasted on a majority of its fanbase. I have this same problem with tumblr sexymen, the jokes are funny but the actual unironic simping for a mischaracterisation really irks me, bc I just don’t like “horny” being an excuse to throw an entire franchise in the bin. Which is why I was so irrationally angry at people rehydrating Ganondorf from totk after only seeing the first teaser trailer. Also related, but I actually have the lmk macaque tags blocked because he was every other post and people mischaracterised him (imo) as hell he was the fandoms emo kitty cat (imo) and I do not care for it actually.

But I guess the solution is to be the change you wish to see in the world, so I’ll just come up with the headcanons and the content myself I guess. Bc I do believe ppl should enjoy how they want (barring supporting ickiness) even if I privately think that that character would not fucking say that. This is more of just a vent of why sometimes the fandom tag can be annoying to me, rather than telling people they should change bc I’m angry.

Sorry if I am being super blunt and mean (I started writing this and then life happens and suddenly you’re a little too angry :p), this is ofc all my own opinion.

Ps. I will note, I think Ninjago is one of the least ship dominated fandoms I’ve been in compared to the others. Like Ik there’s a lot non ship content and more hc in my experience at least. Like I don’t think as many characters get flanderised to the extent of my other fandoms. It’s not like it doesn’t happen but I appreciate the lessened severity of it (I might just be following cool ppl). And not saying there isn’t a wide variety of non ship content in other franchises, Ninjago just sticks out to me rn ig lol.

it sucks SO hard being one of the small minority in any fandom who couldn't care less about the ships present, and who really cares more for the lore than anything.

I dont CARE about new ship fuel youve found I wanna discuss why this super cool mystical thing has been secretly going on and what the fuck it means !!!!

[aureatelys]

like cherries in the spring

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 4k bc i cant stop myself

content warnings: 18+ PLEASE MDNI, porn without plot, consensual somnophilia (mentions of discussing it beforehand), intercrural sex sorta, thigh fucking sorta idk what to call it but thats close enough, brief v fingering, eventual p in v, light dom/sub undertones because thats who i am, light bondage (being held down), light choking (just a hand on your throat), unprotected sex, no y/n, established relationship, employee/boss relationship duh, self indulgent <3

summary:

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

read on ao3 here or below <3333

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

You try to blink awake, immediately blinded by the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. For a second, you think you’re still in Los Angeles with the California heat making your clothes stick to your back, working on a kidnapping case, which means you need to get up and get ready fast.

However, someone stirs behind you, and you realize you’re not in California. You’re home, in your bed, and being spooned by Aaron.

You try not to sigh in relief so as not to disturb him. He needs the rest, obviously, based on the fact that Aaron tends to get up like clockwork at 8 in the morning, even on his days off. You crane your neck to check the clock on your bedside table. Nearly 9:30 in the morning.

You’re almost tempted to wake him up, knowing that Aaron will be secretly annoyed and feeling like he slept the day away, but then you remember how late it was when you got in last night. The team just got done with a case in a Los Angeles suburb and decided to fly back home despite how late it was, which meant that it was really late when you finally made it back home. You distantly remember leaning on Aaron’s shoulder, trying not to fall asleep standing up, and him grunting for everyone to take the following day off and hearing everyone let out a tired cheer. You weren’t able to sleep on the jet, envious at everyone else’s ability to take a nap as soon as they closed their eyes, and kept Aaron company while he finished his notes.

You remember sitting across from him, the glow of the reading light shining on him with his head ducked over his files. He was clearly exhausted just like everyone else, evident by the bags underneath his eyes and the way he attempted to hide his yawn every couple of minutes, but you know that he always makes an effort to try and finish the paperwork the same day while the case was still fresh on his mind.

You had a book open in front of you, long forgotten, as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at your boyfriend.

He glances up at you every now and then and shakes his head to himself, smile on his face, when you make no move to stop staring almost dreamily. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, even when he’s running on 4 hours of sleep.

“Ridiculous,” he had muttered, feigning annoyance, however you felt him knock his feet against yours underneath the table. Something warm settles in your chest at that.

You remember stumbling into Aaron’s apartment, through the living room, and falling face first into the bed. You hadn’t even bothered to change into your pajamas, but you were just too tired to care, evident by passing out as soon as your face hit the pillow.

It didn’t matter now, however, as you felt Aaron’s body pressed up against yours, so warm it was nearing unbearable. You felt his soft exhales against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and the beginning line of his morning wood poking your ass. You felt the soft comforter brush against your bare legs and realize that Aaron must have changed you in your sleep, leaving you in your panties and a tank top.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling utter want tugging at the bottom of your stomach. It had been a couple of days since you guys had done anything, even with the shared hotel room. Working on a kidnapping case in a shitty hotel with thin walls didn’t really set the mood, no matter what anyone said. Sure, you and Aaron were able to sneak in some heated kisses and touches, but never more than that before both of you were falling asleep with case files and medical reports at the foot of the bed.

You carefully pushed your hips back against him, feeling his cock twitch against you. Aaron shifted, throwing his arm over your waist, however his breathing was still deep and heavy. He was usually a light sleeper, a result of the job, so him not waking up from that must mean he was more tired than he let on.

You’re still groggy, but an idea slowly forms in your head. Of course, you two didn’t get the chance to discuss this last night, but you distantly remember a conversation several weeks ago where you told Aaron you wouldn’t mind too much if he woke you up by touching you or going down on you and whether he would be interested in you doing the same to him.

He had given you a look so dark, pupils blown and a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, that you wanted to drop to your knees right there in the kitchen.

Instead, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of your head and mutter a “Some other time, dirty girl.”

Now seems like the perfect time.

You move your hips back again, relishing in the way you can feel Aaron’s cock grow bigger, harder. You wiggle and let out a breathy sigh when you feel him migrate to between your ass cheeks. It’s not enough and definitely not close enough to where you really want him, but it feels good. Dirty, just like Aaron had said.

You move up on the bed a little more, careful not to stir too much, lifting your hips from the bed a bit until his clothed cock was between your thighs and pressed right against your pussy.

You moan at that, clenching your thighs when you feel that familiar throbbing in your cunt, wishing he was already inside of you.

But this feels good too. Two layers of clothes between Aaron’s thick cock and your wet pussy. You start to move your hips against him, breathless at the way the head of his cock barely grazes your clit. You can feel the wet spot undoubtedly forming on your panties, your wetness helping his cock glide against you.

You feel yourself get carried away, chasing the small sparks of pleasure running up your spine just from feeling the girth of his cock against your hole, when you feel Aaron’s arm that’s draped over you move.

You freeze, though you’re not sure why, it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, when you feel his hand come up to grope at your breast over your top.

You hear him hum, still breathing warm air against your neck, and feel him somehow press closer against you. You wait for him to say something, either teasing you for being so horny and rubbing up against him or wordlessly tugging his briefs down to press his cock against where you need him, but there’s nothing.

He’s still asleep.

You exhale in relief, ignoring the nagging thought in your brain saying why are you into this, you freak, but then Aaron’s hand on your breast starts moving, just barely groping.

You’ve known that Aaron has always been a touchy guy behind closed doors, always hungry and wanting to be close to you wherever he got a chance. He’s said it’s because he loves your body and not being able to touch you at work drives him crazy, and you can tell he’s telling the truth from the way his jaw clenches when you lean over his desk to hand him a file or the look he gives you when you cross your legs sitting across from him on the jet and your skirt rides up.

At home, you let him have his fill. He’s constantly groping your tits, pinching at your nipples. He’s grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing, and grabbing your hips so hard he leaves bruises. He has a hand on the back of your neck and pushing your face into the mattress or wrapping his large hand at the base of your throat, putting light pressure as if a reminder of who you belong to. He loves touching you and you clearly don’t mind, however you’re seriously wondering how obsessed he is with your body if he can touch and grope you in his sleep.

He's squeezing your breast and canting his own hips against you. You feel his cock twitch again and the wet spot he must be leaving through his briefs drags against you and your thigh. You bite your lip at that, unsure whether Aaron was about to wake up or not.

You feel his hand move from your breast to your abdomen, fingers just barely brushing over your nipple, making you almost jump, and wrap his arm around your middle. You hear him grunt, something masculine and deep that makes you want to lose your mind, and feel him thrust into you, rutting into you like he can’t control himself.

You whimper at the feeling of being constricted, imagining Aaron’s veins popping out of his forearms. Not caring whether he’ll wake up, you reach down to pull at his briefs just enough so his cock pops free. You sigh at the feeling of hot flesh against your thigh and your mouth waters when you feel precum leaking down the head of his cock, smearing on your panties and thighs.

You wait and strain your ears to listen to Aaron’s breathing. Somehow, it’s still steady.

You’re starting to get impatient, just about to throw this all away and wake him up to sink down on him, but then you feel his bare cock press against your hole through your panties and it just feels so good. You know that if Aaron wakes up, he’s going to want to fuck you fast and hard and honestly, you’re having a lot of fun teasing yourself.

He stops humping into you, the arm around your middle relaxing, and he grumbles a bit and presses his face against the nape of your neck. His breath tickles you.

You start moving your own hips again, just barely, enough to feel the slow drag of his cock against your clit through your panties. They must be absolutely soaked through right now and you desperately wish you could just take them off without waking Aaron up and press the head of him into you, stretching you out. A sweat starts to break out on your back and on your neck and Aaron’s body heat, naturally running warmer than you, isn’t helping but you don’t care.

You hear a sharp inhale, a particular deep thrust against your pussy, and then a “What do you think you’re doing?”

You freeze, feeling like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar and not like you were humping desperately against your boyfriend like a teenager. “Uhm.”

His left arm moves up from where he was still wrapped around you, brushing purposefully against your nipples and making you whine, to wrap his hand around the base of your throat. He doesn’t put any pressure, but just the weight of his hand is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“I said,” he whispers, exhaling against your ear. He thrusts his hips once against you, making his cock slide against you better in a way you could never replicate. “What are you doing?”

You swallow, unsure on how you want to play this. The low deep rasp of his voice this early in the morning always sends you reeling. “Nothing.”

Aaron hums and the grip he has on you tightens just a bit before he’s trailing down your chest. This time, he flicks your left nipple, making you jump and bite your lip at the same time, and moving down past your stomach and to your pussy. “This doesn’t feel like nothing, honey.”

His hand traces the waistband of your panties and the curve of your hips. The callouses on his fingers are rough, but familiar, making you squirm against him. Aaron hisses at that and it’s like he finally snaps as he reaches between your legs and roughly pulls your panties to the side to thrust his cock against your bare cunt, hips slamming into yours.

“In fact, it feels like you’re being a dirty girl, rubbing up on me like you can’t help yourself.”

Your gasp morphs into a moan when you feel the head of his cock finally brushing your swollen clit, no clothes in the way. Now you can feel how sopping wet you are, making the glide of his throbbing cock against your pussy smooth and perfect. This whole thing feels dirty, like you’re trying to take what you can get before you can get caught even though there’s no one else home with Jack being at a sleepover. The thrusting of his hips against yours to rub against your wet folds just makes you think about him fucking you into the mattress until you’re a whining mess. “Aaron…”

 “What do you want, baby?” Aaron murmurs, starting to press soft kisses behind your ear. Hearing his early morning voice again makes your insides turn into a puddle. The warmth of his body and his cologne from yesterday still barely detectable is intoxicating, making you spread your legs a little so his cock nestles deeper against your wetness. You start to move your own hips to meet his and the lewd sound of your pussy and his hips slamming into yours is so so hot.

“Please…” you whine, the words dying in your throat because your head is swimming, and you don’t know exactly what to say. You secretly hope he knows what you want—what you need.

Aaron suddenly gets up to sit on his knees and moves you with a hand on your hip so you’re laying flat on your front, face pressed into your pillow. You nearly cry at the loss of pressure against your clit, but he quickly puts a hand on the back of your head to shove your face into the pillow. He straddles your thighs, roughly moves your panties aside again to insert a thick finger inside of you.

You moan wantonly at the feeling of finally being filled, the sound muffled against the pillow. His finger goes in easily due to how wet you were, but the feeling of being stretched even just a little bit make you feel drunk.

“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” He moves his finger in and out of you fast, almost rough, but it’s still something and it can still make you come if you try really hard since you’ve been playing with yourself for what feels like hours.

You already start to feel the beginning pressure at the pit of your stomach, clenching and unclenching around just one finger. Your clit is barely getting anything out rubbing against the sheets, but you don’t even care, having been on edge for days. “Yes, yes—Aaron…”

Aaron hums casually from behind you, as if you guys were talking about the weather. “Are you going to come for me?”

You nod furiously into the pillow, moving your face to the side so you can breathe more easily. “Yes, yes, please—”

Suddenly he takes his finger out of you with a loud and vulgar noise, nearly making you scream in frustration. You’re about to yell at him, maybe even turn around and smack him on the shoulder, until you feel your panties being quickly tugged down your legs, the head of his cock up against your hole, and then pressing in.

“Oh…,” you moan, nearly sighing in the familiar feeling of being properly filled. There’s a slight burn from that stretch you secretly love. The hand he had pressed against the back of your head migrates to the back of your neck, grabbing a hold of you so possessively it makes you squirm.

Aaron leans over you until his face is next to yours, his soft moans like music to your ears as he bottoms out. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight…”

You try to crane your neck to look at him, desperate to see his face. He has his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, most likely trying to resist immediately fucking into you. His hair is almost artfully mussed, fluffy and falling into his face. Yesterday’s stress is gone and instead is replaced with absolute desire. His other arm is pressing into the mattress so he can hold himself over you and you nearly start to drool at his bicep bulging out, the veins in his thick forearms prominent.

And as if he can feel your eyes on him, his eyes open. They’re dark and piercing, pupils nearly blown out. There’s a hint of that damn smugness in the corner of his mouth, but it smooths out into something softer around the edges when he leans in to press a closed-mouthed kiss against yours. He knows how much you hate morning breath.

The tender action makes something clench in your chest and you wonder again how you got so lucky.

All sweet thoughts fly out the window when Aaron pulls out slowly until just the head of his cock is in you. You moan at the sudden loss and squirm, knowing how much he likes seeing your hips move.

Just like you predicted, he growls and slams back into you, pressing his hips against the flesh of your ass. “So needy.”

“Aaron, please…” you beg, moving your arms from underneath you to behind you in an attempt to touch him, feel him, something.

Because Aaron is Aaron and somehow can read your mind, you feel him grab both of your wrists together in one hand to press against your back. You have no leverage now and can breathe a little easier now that he’s not pressing down on your neck, instead his other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give what my dirty girl needs,” Aaron coos, almost mockingly in the way that makes your heart stutter, and then he starts fucking you so hard the breath gets knocked out of you.

He’s relentless, no more teasing and rubbing up against his cock. The grip of his fingers on your hip and wrists are tight, hopefully enough to leave bruises, as he essentially pulls you on and off his cock. He fills you out so good, hitting that spot inside of your pussy that sends sparks up your spine, making you feel like your brain is short circuiting. It’s like you can’t even think anymore, which is a normal occurrence when Aaron fucks you like this, and all you can hear is the wet sounds of your pussy, his hips slamming against yours, and moans that he’s not bothering to hide anymore.

You distantly can hear yourself begging to come, nearly screaming yourself hoarse. You’re sensitive, nearly overstimulated with the way Aaron is pounding into you, and you just want to come already. The sheets are wrapped around your thighs, barely rubbing against your clit, and it’s not enough and you arch your back the way he likes, move your hips in an effort to tell him to touch you. “Fuck, oh my God, Aaron.”

“You need me to touch you, baby?” Aaron says, breathlessly, and you know he’s close too, probably holding off until you come first because you know that’s something he likes.

He must be just as impatient as you are because he’s immediately releasing his hold on your wrists to wriggle a hand underneath you and rub your clit in a way that was delicious but almost rough, almost painful enough that it sends you over the edge.

You choke on your moan as you feel your pussy clench on his hard cock, squeezing your thighs together. Your hands find purchase clawing at the sheets underneath you, wrists tingling from where he held onto you. Your mind blanks out, empty besides the sheer bliss wracking your body. Aaron keeps fucking you, keeps flicking your clit, groaning your name and it just adds to your orgasm, nearly making you roll your eyes back into your head.

You feel him fuck you faster, harder, and you had just begun floating down from your orgasm when Aaron comes inside you with a deep and guttural moan. You’ve always loved hearing the noises he makes; how manly he sounds, how deep his voice can get, and the way he whispers your name like a prayer. The noise he makes when he comes, however, is definitely in your top 3.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” Aaron grunts, thrusting into you one last time. The hold he has on your hip is nearly painful, definitely bruising. You moan unabashedly at that and the feeling of his warm come inside of you, filling you up. You clench down on him one last time, milking him for all he’s worth, and you hear Aaron’s choked laugh behind you.

He slips out of you, and you feel his eyes on your pussy; probably swollen and absolutely a soaking mess with your wetness smeared all over your inner thighs. He hums, finally satisfied, at the sight of his come dripping out of your cunt, dripping down your slit and onto the sheets. You feel his thumb come and trace your hole, gentle, but making you squirm nonetheless at how sensitive you are and sending a shock through you. His hand is on your hip again, squeezing in a warning, silently telling you to take it.

And you do, keening softly when you feel the rough pad on his thumb brush your clit, smearing his come around. You always had an inkling that Aaron was dirty, with his domineering voice and the way he so easily takes control of a room when he walks in, but you were in for a rude awakening when you both finally stopped dancing around each other.

You hear Aaron inhale sharply when you clench and unclench, probably pushing more wetness out onto the sheets, and you almost brace yourself for his cock to press against your hole again when you feel the bed dip and Aaron getting up to the bathroom to help clean you up. You’re only slightly disappointed, but then remember it’s not even noon and you got the rest of the day left. You bring your arms to cross and rest your head on them while you wait, smiling to yourself as the languid relaxation seeps into your bones the way only getting fucked out of your mind does.

Aaron is tender and gentle while he cleans you up. Underneath all the stoic and cold demeanor, Aaron has always been a huge softie and loves taking care of you, no matter the occurrence. You feel that care when there’s large hands and a towel, warm on your thighs, your hips, your ass as he presses his lips to the bottom of your spine. You feel the barely there scratch of his stubble and hum.

When he’s done, he crawls up the mattress to his spot and settles down with a huff. He immediately is wrapping around you, flinging his arm and leg over you to pull you in closer as you laugh. Your face is pressed against his chest, flushed pink, and you impulsively press a kiss there against the wiry hair. You feel him kiss the top of your head, no doubt smiling because he secretly loves the attention you give him.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, so soft in a way that makes you want to wiggle further into him.

Instead, you push back a bit to look up at him where he’s already watching you, eyes affectionate. Your legs are tangled with his, hips pressed against each other’s despite knowing how sweaty he is. His mouth, usually in that straight line, has softened, and the sight of his bedhead and relaxed brow makes you want to spend the next week touching him all over. His cock pressed against your thigh, half-hard, tells you that may be possible.

“Perfect,” you say, and then you push at his shoulder until he flops on his back, gazing up at you almost reverently as you climb on top of him to straddle his hips.

One of his hands wander up your thighs until he settles on your hip. His hair falls into his face, his eyes still drowsy but the hunger plain as day. He brings his other arm to rest above his head, against the pillows, in a clear show of his muscles that makes your mouth water. He looks devastatingly handsome and just so hot, it’s really not fair.

“Good morning,” he says, casually, as if you’re not quietly losing your mind.

You give him a devilish grin and push your hips back until you can feel the head of his cock against you, already hard and leaking precum against your ass. Satisfaction curls up your spine when his small smile falters and his jaw clenches. You lean down, knowing that he loves the feeling of your breasts pushing against his chest and nipples dragging, until you’re hanging your lips right above his.

“A very good morning, it is.”

[hyuny-bunny]

｡⋆˚under the stars ｡⋆˚｡⋆. LK + HH

pairing: hyunho x fem!reader, hyunjin x reader, lee know x reader,

synopsis: camping with 9 people, 4 tents leaves you stuck with sharing a tent and bed with minho + hyunjin who fight for your attention

MNDI 18+: somnophilia, implied consent, thigh riding, kissing, groping, masturbation, fem!reader

part ii

---

you can't recall to anyone raising questions at the wise idea it was to plan a trip with nine people without any consideration for the sleeping arrangements. of course there was gonna be some sacrifices made considering their couldn't possibly be 9 tents available for you each to have your own space and yet you were still shocked to find only 4 tents.

minho had the made the suggestion to organize a camping trip now that you all had an upcoming week of a completely free schedule. it wasn't often you had this so who were any of you to object ? it would start as early as 4am, rounding everyone into the rental van, an ungodly amount of luggage, and 8 unruly passengers who would be bouncing off the walls once 6am rolled around. the first few hours were quite, chan was driving and minho as the designated passenger princess offering directions and company as the only other person awake at 4am.

i'm the rows of seats behind were jisung who had already found the perfect angle to his pillow pressed against the window with drool slipping past his lips. felix also laid against changbins shoulder in a similar manner, opting to use his bicep as a make shift pillow. seungmin had his head tilted back against the seat and every so often waking up like a puppy fighting sleep. jeongin stayed leaned against the window watching the passing trees and rain droplets shower the window, once he was woken up he found it hard to sleep.

then there was you, directly behind the drivers seat with your own princess sleeping on your lap. hyunjin complained that if he slept on your shoulder, it'd cramp his neck too badly to sleep. so he spread himself out across 3 seats (yours included. it was only a matter of minutes it took for him to fall asleep aided by your hands running through his hair.

minho would glance back at every so often before giving you his cat-like grin then gesturing you hit hyunjin awake, forcing you to stifle a laugh. finally arriving to the camp grounds, you were fortunate enough to find minho had found a camp ground with luxury style tenting. all the tents had been set up perfectly, cutting out the labor of setting it up yourself. along with the tents were a plethora of chairs, a man made pit for fire, along with any other necessary camping amenities for cooking and survival. it was tucked away from the roads and next to a gorgeous lake with a breath taking view.

as everyone is unloading the bags from the car, it becomes apparent that the next standing conflict is the sleeping situation. you all stand in the center, surrounded by the 4 tents while everyone argues about who has first dibs and who has to sleep with who. eventually chan is directing seungmin and jeongin to one tent, felix and changbin to another, then the dilemma. the five you stand there staring at one another.

".... i think maybe we should give her own tent?" chan is the first to speak.

"hyung you want us to dog pile in one tent with 4 of us on one bed?" jisung turns to him with his arms crossed.

"i really don't mind sharing it's just-" you begin to say but end up cut off by two voices.

"i'll do it" "i'll do it"

your turn to find hyunjin and minho staring each other down, both surprised to hear the other offer to bunk with you.

"i think she can decide for herself who she wants to sleep with- i mean ! not sleep with but share SHARE i mean share." chan speaks up flustered as jisung laughs with a shaking head.

you feel your face growing warm with the way minho and hyunjin stare down at you, ironic given how the cold wind nips at your face.

"i uh... let me see how big the room is first." you say making a bee line for the tent furthest from. you can hear hyunjin and minho muttering something to each other when you brush past them.

you take a peak inside noting the bed size, the makeshift air mattress couch. you could sleep on that right ? they can have the bed and you could have the couch. you put your bag down on the outside portion, adjusting your scarf as you approach them. jisung had already taken his bag to the other tent, deciding his input was no longer needed by whatever decision you made.

"there's a blow up couch inside, i can sleep on that and they can take the bed so..."

"you're not sleeping on the couch? minho can sleep on the couch." hyunjin slaps minho's shoulder as he says while the person in question shoots him a death glare.

"are you sure you want those two in your tent? i'm sure one of them wouldn't mind sleeping in the tent with ji and me-"

"i'll sleep on the couch! really it's no problem." you interrupt chan's objection.

you couldn't say refuse either minho or hyunjin sharing the tent. part of you wanted to bunk with both of them, another part of you took comfort in not sleeping alone. you waived chan off saying it would be okay and watched hyunjin grab his bag bolting for the tent. chan reassured that if you wanted to kick one of them out, he'd gladly help.

minho looked at you asking you if you were really sure but you reassured him that it would be alright.

"you're still not sleeping on that couch, i'll drag hyunjin out by his hair if i have to make you sleep on the bed."

"i really don't think that'll be necessary."

"i beg to differ."

the two of you walked towards the tent to find hyunjin splayed out across the bed in a starfish position staring back gleefully. he leans off the bed to grab your wrist when you approach the night stand to plug in a charger.

"you'll keep me warm tonight?" hyunjin ask's in a flirty tone but is only met with a pillow minho has swatted at him.

--

the lake was too cold to swim in but you and felix rolled up the ankles of your pants to dip just your feet in the water. the two of you collected pretty rocks before venturing off to find some twigs and branches to help start the fire for later tonight. minho being the vetted camper, had assembled and prepped everything for the barbecue. hyunjin sat perched on a rock enjoying the view of the lake and mountains surrounding. he had brought a retro camera, capturing some pictures and videos of you and felix sword fighting with twigs before seungmin killed the fun deciding to chase you with a muddy stick.

as night time approached, felix and you felt it would be best to step away from the lake, bundle up as the wind blew colder then before. for as isolated as the camp grounds was, this truly was more luxurious then most hotels. after a quick and very cold shower out door, you headed back to the tent to retrieve any and all heat that had left your body. layered in clothes sitting on the couch trying to warm up just the slightest before making the 10 ft journey to sit by the fire. minho came in taking in your shivering appearance.

"just a little cold?" he half laughs while looking in concern, you were already wearing sweats, a tank top, a long sleeve thermal, thick fluffy socks, a beanie, and the warmest/thickest sherpa jacket you owned.

"why does it look like it?" you ask through shivers. he's rummaging through a bag, he stops and pulls out a black knit sweater, extending his arm out to you.

"here, put this on." he says waiting for you to take it.

"i'm fine, ill warm up in a bit."

"please, just put it on. you're making me cold just by watching you shiver."

"but what about you? aren't you gonna be cold-" you're cut off by him walking over to you and kneeling in front. without missing a beat he pushes your jacket off the shoulders and is already bringing the open down on your head. he helps you put your arms through before pulling your hair out from the opening to readjust it.

your flustered at the gesture and truly speechless. minho had always been caring and really shows it in his actions so why should this be any less of surprise? he'd given you his jackets before when you were cold but this gesture felt more personal, romantic even. whatever it was, it made your heart swoon and your cheeks pink with blush. even as he fixes the loose hairs flying your face all you can focus on his the feel of his finger tips brushing against your face.

"better?" he asks, his eyes bore into yours before flickering down to your lips.

"yes. a lot better, thank you." you don't miss the way his ears are turning red, you can feel his breath fanning against you. fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him on the lips just for being so sweet. his hair falls over his eyes bit, you push a strand back with a feather touch that his him leaning into your hand. your hand stops momentarily on his cheek.

"what is taking so long ? i'm hungr-" the sound of hyunjin's voice cause you both to jump back a bit.

minho scrambling to his feet to grab his other jacket and head towards the entrance hyunjin stands at. you head feels dizzy at what happened, thinking about how you should've just kissed him. it's when hyunjin walks into your line of vision pull you both literally and metaphorically out of your thoughts.

"jagi sit with me! jeongin won't let me hug him so you're going to."

you don't have time to object before hyunjin has already pulled you down with him into the rocking chair loveseat. to anyone who didn't know you're friendship with hyunjin, you would've looked like a couple with the way his arm is thrown around you and pulling your legs to rest on top of his giving the ability to rock you both back and forth under the blanket. for as long as you had known hyunjin, he'd always been like this. he loved to hug, cuddle, and hold you but i guess there was no alarm bells to be rung when you noticed he didn't hold any of his other friends that were girls like this. it was clearly platonic and he felt comfortable, right?

minho and chan were grilling, you basked in the warmth of sitting next to hyunjin in the blanket. every once in a while you were reminded by the the fact that you were wearing minho's sweater since his cologne seemed to seep into the threads of the sweater. it smelled heavenly, his cologne was vanilla mixed with sweet tobacco but mixed with his own musk had your chest feeling like butterflies swarming where your heart should be. hyunjin so close to you didn't help either since he always smelled of florals and now the breeze of pine wrapped you in comfort, a state of melancholy. your nose twitched at the smell of the bbq, hyunjin clocked it giggling saying you looked like a bunny.

he retrieves a plate for you to both share and demands you feed him. his arms wrapped around your waist under the blanket, you take notice of the way minho stares down hyunjin with every bite you feed the drama queen, he only offers a smug smirk to minho. you spend some time around the fire talking, laughing, that is until seungmin decides now is the best time to start telling scary stories. unfortunately, as tough as you are about scary stories, you can't help the growing paranoia at every branch snap or twig snap. you're so engulfed in seungmins story you don't notice jisung has disappeared and is now currently crouched behind the love seat waiting to scare you.

you scream louder then you could've possibly anticipated when jisung grabs your shoulders from behind growling. hyunjin screams too pulling you closer, everyone else folds over in laughter. it only takes a moment for you to move out of hyunjins grip to chase jisung around the fire with a shoe in hand. you're only stopped by minho lifting you off your feet to keep you from further charging at jisung.

--

as the fire burns lowly, everyone begins to make their way to the beds for the night. hyunjin and minho stand outside the tent to give you privacy while you change your clothes to sleep. you shed the layers keeping a tank top, minhos sweater and boxer briefs on. no matter how cold it was you could never sleep in pants or too many layers. they both make their way back into the tent noticing you attempted to make a bed out of the couch.

"....at least let hyunjin take the couch." minho says as you turn to find them both standing in shorts and t shirts.

"i promise ill be fine to sleep on the couch."

"just sleep in the bed with us?" hyunjin says, you both turn to him. he has a look on his face that says 'isn't this the obvious option?'.

"w-wouldn't it just be uncomfortable for you two ?" you ask. the thought crossed your mind but didn't want to be too forward, you had slept next to hyunjin like this before but it would be a new thing to sleep like this with minho let alone with the both of them.

"ahh its fine. besides minho can sleep in the middle." this earns hyunjin another death glare. so it was settled. no one was sleeping on the couch and you'd be sleeping between them ? it's fine it was only gonna be for a few nights. what could possibly happen?

you slept on your side, back towards hyunjin and facing minho who laid face up. it was a bit of stirring before you felt yourself drift. hyunjin had threw his arm around your waist and minho eventually turned to his side, you were too deep in sleep to have even noticed how close you had all been squished to gather. you hadn't even noticed that minhos thigh had pushed up against you between your legs and your own between his.

the room was peacefully quite with the only sound coming from the nearby lake and crickets tucked away in the grass. minho was a light sleeper so when he heard soft whimpers coming from you, he barely peeked his eyes open. your face was a bit scrunched but nothing to worry. he took a moment to take in how beautiful you looked with moon light barely peaking in, he could just make out the features of face in the darkness. he did notice hyunjins hand on you waist had made its way under your (his) sweater just laid atop over the curve your waist on top of the tank top.

as minho begins to reach over to remove hyunjin's hand, you stir a bit letting a louder whimper fall past your lips. he's afraid he's woken you up in his attempt to pry the hands of the other off you but when he feels movement below, he realizes that your legs are interlocked. minho is about to shift when he feels your hips moving around again but this time he feels it on his thigh.

minho looks down to find that you're practicing straddling his thigh at this point. he knows if he wakes you up, you'd just feel embarrassed. he should stop you but how can he when all he can do is focus on the way your hips are subtly shifting for friction against his thigh. the same thighs he caught you drooling over on far too many occasions for him not have fantasized what dirty things must've run through your head, surely enough this very moment of you grinding your cunt against his thigh was one of them.

your whimpers are becoming more erratic with every move, he feels himself growing harder with every brush of your own thigh pressing up against his strained cock. he tried to close his eyes like he was sleeping convinced this had to be a dream. his eyes shoot open when he hears a grunt that clearly isn't yours. he finds hyunjin now pressed closer to you then before and his hand have moved from the curve of your waist to groping your tit.

hyunjin was not the heaviest sleeper so enough movement could wake him up. he tried not to lay so closely to your back as the way you slept made it nearly impossible for his own hard on to stay at bay. as he fell into a wonderful sleep, he dreamt of you. of laying closely pressed to your backside and rutting himself against while you cried out his name. when he woke to hear your actual whimpers, it turned out that his dream state began to seep into reality as he had been grinding himself into you from behind with his hand groping your covered chest. this was wrong he should stop while he still can but clearly his dreamlike state hadn't left him just yet as he kept grinding his hard cock into your bottom pulling himself closer to be flush against you.

your boob felt so soft and warm under his hand even on top of the knit sweater. hyunjin's eyes shot open when he heard your gasp. he couldn't see it but your eyes were shot open wide at the realization you had been grinding against minho's thigh, he was already staring back at you with a pained expression. your hand was clutching the fabric of minhos shirt as your movements had stopped but there was no denying the reality of the situation. the fact that you had been grinding so hard against minho's thigh, his shorts had risen up and your owner brief shorts did nothing to hide the seeping wet spot.

"minho, i-"

now wasn't the time for explainations or apologies as minho quickly decided that would be a conversation for later, stopping your sentence to kiss you. his lips were soft against yours but his kiss was anything but. unlike you, hyunjin hadn't stopped his own movements. he continued to grind against you, moving his hands under the sweater, warm soft skin against his hand as he made his way back up to your chest and pressing his forehead against your shoulder. minho held your hips in place while scooting himself closer without breaking the kiss. your hand stayed clutching the fabric of his shirt as he pressed his thigh firm against your drenched cunt and ruined panties. he slipped his tongue past your lips rewarding himself with your moans and soft cries.

as you pull back from the kiss momentarily, the reality that hyunjin had been egging this moment on hits you as you realize his hand his fondling your chest. the moment you pull back from your kiss with minho, you take in how red his lips look even in the darkness, eyes twinkling with need. its only split second before you feel hyunjin's hand pushing you back into him and his own face coming into view, lips crashing down against yours. he's quick to pinch your nipple that has you gasping, he takes the opportunity to slip his own tongue against yours and drinking in your whimpers. minho is locked into the feeling of your continued movements down below, he almost doesn't notice your hand traveling down his abdomen to his crotch. his cock is straining hard against his shorts, helping you he guides your hand to lay just on top of the fabric outlined cock where you take no time to begin stroking him over the fabric.

hyunjin pulls back from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips still, his attaches his lips to your neck sucking a hickey right below your ear as he feels desperate to for relief. he's picking up his pace rutting against your ass while minho goes back to guiding your hips. your cries are becoming louder as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach, your orgasm feels like wave about to crash down. you reach behind to hyunjin who his more than happy to slide your hand into his shorts guiding you to stroke him. you return the favor to minho sliding your hands down the front of his shorts earning a groan from the two of them.

blissed out on the feeling of your hand wrapped around their lengths, stroking them to their own orgasm. it only take a few strokes before their both spilling into the their shorts and painting your hands white with their cum. they both work quick to pushing you onto your back. hyunjin pulling your thighs apart and minho pushing your sweater up and over your chest. hyunjin makes good use of his fingers skidding them into the briefs gathering your slick on his fingers giving your clit a few circles before plunging one into your hole. your so warm and tight, it's everything he has ever dreamed of. his fingers are long, perfectly reaching the wet spongey spot inside that has your toes curling and crying out for more. minho on the other hand has one of your tits firmly in his grasps, massaging the warm flesh in his hand while his mouth latches on the other. he's not satisfied until your nipple has pebbled in his mouth before moving onto the next. once satisfied with their state he blows air onto them making you shiver and arch back in pleasure. he leaves a few hickeys across the top's of your breasts as to leave his mark behind, of course hyunjin shouldn't be the only one allowed to leave his mark. your orgasm is quickly approaching as hyunjin moves the heel of his palm against your clit and thrusting his finger even faster against your g spot. minho moves quick to kiss you again, capturing all your cries and moans against him as to save the rest of you from being caught by the others. your orgasm hits your hard as your legs stretch and toes curl against the mattress, body twitching as you cum down from the feeling and hyunjin's fingers ride you out through the orgasm almost leaving you too sensitive to touch.

so there the three of you laid out tired, wet, and messy. your briefs are ruined with your wetness, the other's shorts spoiled by their own cum. no one loves just laying in the silence, soft panting and small groans. minho looks over at you to find you've already drifted off to sleep, hyunjin picks up his head from the other side of you. he makes sure minho watches him bring his fingers up to his mouth before sucking and dragging them out with a quite sucking noise.

minho taking the high ground decides to ignore it to the best of his abilities getting up to change his soiled shorts, hyunjin follows suit to do the same. right as their slipping back into the bed with you centered. minho swiftly scoops the blanket and you to lay against him once more before shooting hyunjin a cocky grin.

this would only be the first mark of a very long weekend sharing a tent and bed with these two...

------

part ii

[k3n-dyll]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 18+, wlw, implied/some descriptions of sex, fluff(?), bathing together, Ambessa is taller than reader but specific height isn't mentioned

𝐊𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ☆ Wrote something short and (kinda) sfw in attempt to jumpstart my brain to write bro I hate having the urge but not being able to

The bath is hot and steamy, topped with a layer of bubbles. As you're guided in, the soothing heat covers your body, and the scent of lavender and vanilla fills your nostrils and pulls you deeper into your sleepy haze. Ambessa is quick to follow, discarding her robe on the ground and settling in behind you, her body nearly dwarfing your own.

The past few hours had been quite rough for you and she knows it. She wasn't exactly holding back, especially after how stressful her day had been - it's natural that upon coming home she'd taken her frustrations for the day out on her favorite 'toy'.

Still, as cold as she can be - she isn't heartless. She wants you safe and comfortable before all else. Seeing you barely awake and trembling underneath her; your body having been covered in deep purple hickeys and red lipstick smudges and sweat, laying in a puddle of your own juices - it was arousing, of course, but it still alarmed her a little. She'd been quick to have a servant get the bath started, scooping you up into her large arms and gently placing you into the tub.

"You poor girl..." She murmurs mockingly, though a hint of concern betrays her as she scrubs gently at your skin, watching the lipstick fade and feeling your muscles relax underneath her fingers.

"I wasn't too harsh with you, was I darling?"

"No, Mistress..." You manage a soft answer in response, shaking your head slightly.

As out of it as you are, you aren't hurting. Not enough to be worried about at least - the places she'd marked and spanked you will stop being tender soon enough, and Ambessa's mumbled praises and soft touch is enough to distract you from any soreness.

"Good...you were wonderful for me today... no complaints or disobedience. I'll have to reward you later." Her words are slow and scattered between kisses to your neck and shoulders, your body practically melting back against hers.

She washes your hair and massages your muscles, making sure to loosen any knots or kinks in your aching body. It's rare that her hands are so gentle, her touch so...loving if you didn't know any better. And when you're both cleaned up she refuses to let you walk on your own, helping you dry off and once again carrying you in her arms to the bed, dressing you up and laying you down. Most days, you sleep in your own room, but in moments like these - when Ambessa can't quite seem to shake the urge to hold you, she keeps you with her for the rest of the night, her strong arms wrapped tight around you watching as you slowly drift off.

"Such a pretty thing...get some rest, sweetheart. I can't have my favorite little plaything all worn out now can I?"

Reblogs are appreciated || Donations 4 Palestine - Arcane Masterlist

Taglist: @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut @sevsbaby, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,  @strawberry-shortcakey , @abvisionss, @urbayolet

[missfrustration]

to teach a captain - part 3 (luffy x reader 18+ fanfic)

summary: “You want to kiss, too!” He says. His head juts forward, leaning down as he looks up at you. You could only respond with one thing: "So, what if I do?"

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

rating: 18+ explicit, minors do not interact!!

tags: pwp, nsfw, smut, sexual content, masturbation, kissing, luffy is a curious guy, reader is a member of the straw hat crew, post-time skip, second-hand embarrassment, no spoilers, no use of y/n

A/n: the ao3 crowd waited half a year for me to post this part, so parts after this will chug along slowly, just wanted to warn you ahead of time! hopefully the length of this helps. posted on ao3 here

words: 8.1k (very long, whoops)

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

The rest of the night went as follows.

Chopper finally catches up to you after the crew settles into the Sunny. His chipperness never faltered when you tell him you feel better than earlier. Still, he insisted on a late-night check-up. Other than an elevated heartbeat, he gave you a clean bill of health and sent you on your way. 

You took a peak in the small bag Robin gave you, largely ignoring Nami’s. You softly grimace, seeing the new bottle of lube lying on top of the other shopping list of things you ask her to get beforehand.

You couldn't go to sleep for the better half of the night. Every time you thought of what transpired only a few hours ago, your breathing started getting heavy, your mind was racing, and you just felt like squealing. 

It was half past four when you finally went to sleep. You don’t particularly enjoy sleeping in, but when you woke up this morning and saw the time read past 11 am, you welcomed it…

…Up until you realized why exactly you slept in so late.

After a fresh change of clothes, you reluctantly get on deck. As you feel the smooth wooden planks of the Sunny under your feet, you’re overcome with an increasing perplexion. 

The Sunny is still at the dock of Tashini. If we had followed Nami’s schedule she set yesterday, we would’ve left in the early morning. Tashini would’ve been a small dot across the horizon at this point. 

You feel an even deeper pit of your stomach spiral when you see no sign of life, which means everybody’s gathered in the kitchen and dining room, currently having lunch. Alongside your crewmates, smack dab in the middle, will be Luffy.

Your heart thumps as you reach the door to the dining room, swinging it open like usual. The Straw Hat crew sits around the table, collectively turning to the archway when they see you. All have a smile on their face and a greeting on their tongue. Sanji, once setting a big platter of shrimp scampi in the middle of the crowded table, frolics over to you and sings your name.

“Ahh angel, you’re awake,” he sings. “Just in time for lunch.”

You greet him like usual, running your eyes over Nakama until your body erupts in butterflies again.

Your eyes meet Luffy’s, feeling your heart crack against your chest at the immediate eye contact. He gives you a toothy grin. 

“Good morning!” Luffy says. Before you can stutter out a response, Ussop pipes up.

“Hey, now.” Nami points at you. “You’re not wearing any of the new stuff I gave you.” She gives you a playful frown.

“Ah, sorry about that, it was a long night last night,” You sigh, purposefully trying to divert Luffy’s eyes. “Chopper, said I’m fine at least. Speaking of which, why are we still at dock?”

“Well, I may have a surprise waiting for everybody, I was just waiting for the last person to join us.”

You nod, going to take a seat. Brook tells you to sit down next to him and Chopper, playfully tapping an empty spot at the table. Chopper smiles at you, glad you look better than last night. 

“Aaand with that, everybody’s here!” Nami says, paper in hand. “Time to announce the next island and lookout parties for tonight…”

While Nami is talking off the paper she has in her hands, you settle down and join in on digging into the beautiful array of dishes. There’s fluffy white rice, shrimp scampi with a fragrant green sauce, lovely cut fruits that Sanji got from Tashini, and more meat to compliment Luffy’s hungry appetite. White rice is the first thing you go for, feeling the squishy texture as soon as you dig into it. 

“That means our next destination will be Dracon. Now,–”

“Dracon?” The word comes out before you have the chance to think about it. You pause, letting your fork drop some rice you just dished out. You try to clean up the mess without anyone noticing.

Nami, including the others, turn to you. “Yes, do you know it?” The navigator asks.

“Oh, ah.” You search your brain, trying to come up with an explanation for your reaction. “I’m not sure, it’s been a while since… working for my home country.”

“From what you’ve told us, you used to be a diplomat before, yes?” Robin asks from across the table. You nod.

“I had to travel a lot, and there are islands I remember going to, but I don’t quite recall visiting Dracon. I’m not sure—at least, I have no memories of the name in terms of my diplomatic work,” You shrug unassuredly.

“I’ll keep note of that,” Nami states, scribbling something down.

Nami moves on to some unrelated housekeeping items, though something feels so familiar that you can’t shrug it off. You feel off about the whole thing, yet not enough to notify the crew.

Now, you feel a pair of eyes on you from across the table. They’re soft in their demeanor, yet concerned in your sudden tenseness. You look over to them, to see Luffy with his head slightly tilted. He’s looking straight back at you while shoving a slab of meat in his mouth. You can’t find it in yourself to look away at his calming face, but all you remember is Luffy panting, pleading with you as his hand found purchase on your shoulder, face so close to yours as he moaned–

“Uhh, excuse me…” Brook nudges your arm, making you snap forward and see Nami leaning over the table, waving her hand in front of your face. 

“Hey, are you listening?” She asks.

“Yeah! Yeah, yeah, uh…” You cringe, “what was that again?”

Nami sighs, slapping your head with the rolled-up paper from across the table.

“You and Luffy will be on watch for the first shift tonight. Make sure to wake up Zoro and Sanji for the shift after, okay?”

“R-right, got it.” You nod, hoping the heat from your face isn’t noticeable.

“You got that, Luffy?” Nami turns to Luffy now, chunks of ham disappearing from his hand into his mouth. Luffy manages to say a jumbled yup between food scarfs.

“I can’t believe you paired me up with brow-for-brains, Nami.” Zoro scoffs, digging into his next bite. You all look to Sanji, or well, where he used to be. He’s now standing over Zoro with a menacing figure.

“Shut it, mosshead. Don’t blame Nami for your incompetence.”

“Huh?!” 

Ussop makes a point to sigh loudly, muttering something about “some weaklings will never learn,” whatever that means in Ussop-speak.

Before a fight breaks out at the dinner table, Nami gives a threatening scowl that separates the two.

“I will reiterate this as I did with a few of you earlier: As you know, we were meant to set sail this morning to the next island. How ever,” Nami says with a smirk, “I thought it would be a nice change of pace for all of us to go to a theater tonight, and then set sail after.”

“A theater? What’s that, a game?” Zoro raises an eyebrow. 

From the other side of the room, Sanji loudly sighs “ Idiot ,” causing the pair to grit their teeth at each other like wild animals. At this point, they are too caught up with each other to pay attention to the conversation.

“I’ve heard of that,” Franky says, “Isn’t that where people perform a story on a stage?” 

Robin nods. “It’s not something you see around the sea often.”

“How inspiring,” Brook gleams next to you. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about.”

“I’m guessing we’ll have immunity there?” Jimbei asks.

Nami nods, “With a bit of persuasion, I was able to get a personal booth at the top of the theater with a promise that we’ll be protected as long as we don’t do anything.

“Her ‘persuasion’ was swooning the staff that we ran into while shopping last night.” Robin chimes in, causing Nami to smirk in triumph. 

“Hey, a cheap meal and show is a steal.” Nami counters. “I spent a quarter of what I spent on our girl’s new wardrobe on this opportunity, and that’s even with the bargaining I had to do.”

You choke on your glass of water hearing Nami’s words.

“How much did you spend on me?!”

“As long as you wear them, you don’t need to know,” Nami assures you with a sly grin. “Giving you a good sense of fashion is payment enough.”

A guttural groan comes out of you as you shake your head.

“I will, I will. Just— please don’t charge me this time.” You say to Nami, who seems to grant you mercy with a nod.

The crew laughs at your exchange. Ussop is yakking it up to Jinbei and Franky about how he used to be a “connoisseur of theater” in his day. At the end of the table, Luffy waves his hand to flag Sanji.

“More please!”

–

Nami instructed everyone to dress accordingly for the play. To be honest, you didn’t know what to wear until after looking in the clothing bag she gave you. Maybe you shouldn’t have, because you find a dress inside that works almost too well for tonight. 

“Perfect, it’s the one I picked,” Nami says when you shimmy it on. She and Robin have already gotten ready, Robin has now gone to join the others on deck.

“You planned this?” You’re surprised as you look at her through the girls’ mirror. You had just finished zipping up the deep rouge silk dress. There was ruching in the bodice that gave your silhouette more form than you’re used to seeing, hem peaking right above your knees. 

She makes her way to the dresser where you’re sitting. “You should appreciate a good dress more than once in a while. We always have plenty of days besides celebrations to wear them, after all.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” You think about it. Robin and Nami always outdo you in style, probably because they treat every day like a fashion statement.

“You look sexy in a shirt and pants anyway.” Nami makes a dumb kissy face as you giggle and push her off. She beckons you to the door. “C’mon, everybody’s waiting.”

When you leave the girls’ dorm, you can see everybody has cleaned up rather nicely. Sanji his usual suave attire, Robin and Nami are dressed to the nines, and each of the others has a flare of fashion. 

Thump. Thump.

Luffy was no different. He wears a black tie and crisp red dress shirt tucked into belted slacks. The dress shirt was slightly pulled up because of his goofing off with Ussop and Chopper. Chopper is on his head doing birdarms as Luffy runs around the dock. Ussop chimes in with an airy bird call that dies out pretty quickly.

Everybody turns around to you and Nami when she closes the door behind her. You hear an ‘ooooo’ around some of the crew as Ussop wolf-whistles.

“You ladies look so lovely!” Sanji cries.

“Ah, my, you’re a charmer,” Brook says to you, bowing deeply. “It would be such an honor to see your p–” Yup, you’re tuning that out.

“Hah! I think the girls super outdid us again.” Franky laughs as he poses. Jinbei seems to nod in agreement.

You blush at their compliments, seeing Chopper and Luffy now turn to look at you. Luffy is the only one not smiling, mouth agape and it makes you a little sad to see. If you wanted anyone to smile, you would’ve wanted it to be him.

“Our girl finally gets to dress, am I right? Now, I think that’s everyone!” Nami comments to the group, “Let’s head out!”

You arrive at a large building bustling with people under a tall hall archway. The whole inside seems illuminated in a soft yellow glow, with torches decorating the exterior walls. Nami and Robin led the pack to a side door, where a group of staff were waiting for you all. You’re briskly taken to a private entrance. It leads to a modest open room with a wide U-shaped booth that spans to either side of the wall, a large tray full of decadent foods in the middle, and an open window that showcases the lowered, grand stage a hundred feet away.

Everybody seems pleased to sit down and get situated, especially Luffy. He takes the part of the booth closer to the open space, objectively a great view, as the rest of you file in. He digs into the trays of complimentary food before you even think to sit.

You end up sitting next to Zoro and Jinbei on either side of you, pleased to be within arms reach of some fresh fruit on the tray. It doesn’t take long for the stage lights to dim and for the show to start. 

It ends up being a fairly detailed story about a knight and his quest to save the heroine, a fellow knight, after they got separated in a battle between countries. There is plenty of humor that the audience and the crew laugh along to. At one point, the knight has to dress as a stuffy aristocrat to pass into the country that captured her and prepare for her execution. Usopp had cheered especially at this as everybody laughed it up. Just before she was scheduled to be beheaded, the hero stepped in and acted as a country nobleman turned war veteran, using his many past achievements of slaying warlocks and beasts to convince the guardsmen to release her. They end up running away on horseback to the country they fought for. Once unsaddled, the heroine finally confronts him.

“You… you came to save me?” The heroine asks, tears laddled in her eyes, almost in disbelief at the hero, her friend’s, bravery. “Why would you do something so risky?”

“I can’t be on the battlefield without you.” The hero falls to the ground to kneel in front of her, taking her hands into his and looking deeply into her eyes. “Won’t you be mine, my knightess?”

“You stupid man. Is that even a question?” She cries out, running into his arms.

They lovingly embrace after the crowd cheers, many of the Straw Hats whooping in celebration. You’re almost thankful you didn’t sit near Franky, as you could practically hear him sob out into a snotty, rather tear-packed mess. You almost feel bad to see Chopper is in his range of fire.

When they finally pull away from each other, the hero steps towards the heroine once more, taking her head in her hands and kissing her passionately. Her arms wrapped around him after a moment of surprise at the gesture, letting him dip her into a warm, lingering hold. Your heart flits at the sight as you join the audience’s cheers and awes. 

Amidst the loud celebration, you realize the scene before you feel reminiscent. As the pair kiss on stage, you think of how you were in a similar position with Luffy not long ago, tasting his lips. Though, the fashion you two were in was more… sensual. Your face flares up. 

You turn to the other side of the room. Luffy’s shadow is clear in the illumination of theater lights, and you see his figure shift as he raises his arm. He lifts his fingers up to his face in what you could only think of as… a yawn? Maybe boredom?

No. He touches his lips softly, grazing them along the skin before looking down at them with curiosity.

You turn away quickly when you notice his head swivel, spinning around the crew members until he stops at you. A pair of eyes is now settled in your direction as you feel your heart pick up speed. You felt him stare at you between the food platters now littered with bones and stems, before the crew joined the audience in a standing ovation. You tuck yourself away from Luffy’s averting eyes as you stand behind Jinbei, shortly overshadowed by every pair of hands now erupting in applause. You clap extra loud, hooked onto the stage to watch the start of the curtain call. When you finally feel the courage to look amongst the crew, you feel the absence of a few eyes that turn back to the stage.

The crew ends the night as normal with a round of drinks before slowly filing out of the theater and towards the ship. You pace alongside Franky, Robin, and Nami. Franky has his robust arm around Robin, laughing along while Nami and you talk about the wonderful experience. Before your mind filters out the thoughts of earlier, a pair of rubbery arms snaps behind you all before Luffy’s figure catapults to the ship at the dock.

–

Nervous blood bubbles in your veins when you’re on your watch shift. 

From the crow's nest at the top of the mast. The saltiness of the ocean breeze isn’t as apparent on the shoreline, but you still smell the tanginess of ocean algae mixed with the earthy scents of the sandy dock. 

You’ve been glancing every so often towards the rear of the ship, wondering when you’ll be able to spot Luffy’s black, messy hair walking along the deck under the moonlight. Maybe he’s tucked at the rear, but it’s hard to tell from the top of the mast without craning your head. You’re not brave enough to check in detail at this point. 

While you think about your watch shift partner that gets more and more late, you think about what else was said around that dinner table.

Earlier, Nami announced the next stop is Dracon, an island that sounds too familiar to be a coincidence. You’ve been to a lot of places in your life before joining the Strawhats, but it’s been so long since that you're not exactly sure. If your home country had any notable affairs with them, surely you would’ve remembered dealing with it. The question was, was it positive affairs, or would you have trouble soon? You don’t have a good feeling about that name, even if you wish for the former. 

“Sorry, I’m late!”

Turning around, you’re met with your smiley captain, his grin upturned ear-to-ear. You look to the moon, and judging from the position, it seems that…

“An hour late, Luffy. And you didn’t change out of those clothes.”

Luffy smiles in response. His tie is undone, hanging around his neck as one side threatens to slip off. The deep red button-up shirt is now completely untucked, hanging loosely past his hips. Some of the top buttons are now undone and loosely shifting under the chilled breeze. His hat is hanging by the string around his neck, resting quietly on his back.

“Sorry.” He doesn't look that sorry.

“It’s fine,” you waved him off, “nothing suspicious happened out here.” Unsurprisingly, not many people dare to approach the infamous Thousand Sunny. Certainly, no one is strong enough to succeed in plunder, anyway.

You look at him again after a moment, heart thumping when you see he’s not moving to climb out of the crow's nest.

“You can go to your lookout now.” When you try to casually say that, your nervous shift practically blows your cover, though you're not sure if it’s noticed.

Luffy hums a noncommittal sound as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I wanna stay.”

“Why?” 

He shrugs, pouting his lip a little at the question. “Don’t wanna move.”

“Fine,” You conceded. It wouldn't be the first time Luffy would bend the rules during watch. “Let’s at least watch the nest to cover ground.”

Luffy nods, following your step as you start walking around the edge of the nest by each window, looking out for any activity. Your partner, unsurprisingly, doesn’t care to watch, walking with you as you make small circles in the nest. At one point, Luffy jumps on the seats lined against the walls, matching your pace as he whistles quite brashly. You carry on like that for a while, watching all parts of the horizon and shoreline of Tashini. You’re not surprised to see any signs of life at this time of night. 

After a few times of Luffy almost losing his balance, he joins your side, loudly stomping his sandals on the dock as he kicks his feet forward.

“Man, I liked that Theodore a lot!” Luffy says. 

Your face scrunches up in confusion, unsure of what exactly he means until you can only deduce one thing.

“You mean… theater?”

“Teeter?”

“ Theater.”

“Oh, tea-eater!”

“Yeah, that.” You couldn't help but giggle at him. “What did you like about it?”

He chuckles, reaching back to the straw hat and swiftly squashing it on top of his black hair.

“Man, it was great! There was so much yummy food to eat, and it was funny when the knight guy made all those silly faces to sneak around!”

His hands are behind his hand as he throws his head back into it, looking wherever as he talks about all the different aspects he likes. Luffy talks about the color of the clothes he liked and the way he laughed at the things that had the audience roaring. You idly listen, agreeing to his list, not paying attention to your watch shift duties anymore.

“I think the girl knight who got captured was kinda stupid. She didn’t scream or kick when she was locked up!” Luffy says.

“Would you have kicked and screamed instead?” 

“I would’ve never gotten caught!” Luffy laughs out. “But if I did, I would at least fight back. She could’ve easily saved herself from the guards if she did that!”

“I think her being the helpless lady in need of saving was a part of the story, it made it more dramatic. For the knight, it made saving her more high stakes.” You think out loud.

“If she’s a knight, she’s strong enough to fight back and get out by herself.” He turns to you. “Right?” 

That makes sense to you, but what doesn’t is the way Luffy looks at you. He’s looked at you with that cheerful expression thousands of times before, but now you feel a hammer from your heartbeat. His chest muscles barely peek out in the moonlight under that silky button-up, and his tie is so, so close to slipping now.

You reach out before thinking, stepping up to Luffy and catching the end of the tie right before it falls off of his narrow shoulders. You promptly adjust the tie so it's balanced around his neck, no longer threatening to fall off.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You surmise. Honestly, Luffy makes sense. In his scarce moments of clarity, he always speaks with an astounding factuality. 

His smile fades as he looks into both of your eyes. The proximity of you two is now very apparent, but you're struggling to find yourself creating distance, struggling to keep your hands off of the edges of his tie.

“I–”

“I want to learn how to kiss!” Luffy announces loudly.

You sucked in a breath that catches in your throat, rather badly, and feel a cough fumble out of your mouth. You try to save face but find yourself awkwardly grasping onto your shirt and in the air for some stability. 

“I’m sorry, I’m surprised you know what it’s called,” you say after gaining enough breath.

Luffy gives you a frown and crosses his arms. “I know what kissing is. I’m not dumb.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I just…” You kick yourself in your mind. “What brought this up?”

Luffy shrugs, looking out the nest’s windows onto the oceanline. The moonlight illuminates his face crisply through one of the windows, but you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking.

“Was it the theater?” You ask him.

He looks back at you without moving his head, confirming your suspicions. 

“They did what we did. I wanna know how to do that.” 

“With… me?” You blink.

“Yup!”

You feel the thrumming of your heart in your veins, beating at his words. “It's pretty simple, you should know based on the first time we did,” you say. You try to stuff down your elation as best as possible, but you know your face is warming just like it did last night. 

“I wasn’t paying attention!”

“You should have been! You were there, you know-?!”

“You want to, too!” He says. His head juts forward, leaning down as he looks up at you.

“So, what if I do?” You say, a bit annoyed at his correct assumption. “You already know what to do, plus, we have to be on watch right now!” You gesture with your arms held out open in a reminder of why you’re both here. 

“I have Haki!” Luffy says with a childish pout. “If anyone comes I’ll know. I’ll beat them up.”

You frown at him, again seeing how easily your captain can push to get his way. It feels even redundant for you to be on watch if Luffy has enough Observation Haki to detect anything suspicious.

“Just one.” He grumbles. “I just want one.”

You know this feeling. The cocoons that were once hibernating in your stomach have hatched into butterflies, now violently beating against your gut. The small crush you had has transpired into an infatuation. An annoying infatuation. The current predicament you’re in is…

Tricky.

Luffy doesn’t seem to be interested in you like that. You know he just wants a lesson again—for his own purposes. But, can you find it in you to deny him of something that you’ve been thinking about, even before last night?

“Okay,” You sigh, hand waving up and down. “Stand up, then.”

Luffy stands up straight like a spring, smiling brightly at another victory. He is giddy from excitement, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, yet he waits for your next words of wisdom.

“I guess the best way to describe it is… there’s not any set rules for this. To kiss, at least one person is needed, you put your lips together like this,” you make a small pout, “and lean into the object of affection that you want to kiss.” 

You demonstrate by taking the back of your hand, looking at Luffy when you pout your lips, and gently placing them on the back of your hand. When you purse your lips and pull away, the contact makes a small smooch noise.

“Here,” you raise the back of your hand you kissed, holding it up to Luffy. “Try it.”

Luffy looks at your hand curiously before he leans in and he pouts his lips like you did. He presses his lips to your hand with the pressure of a feather until he briefly, brashly presses it down and lifts his head. It reminded you of the peck of a bird, almost. In the process, he opens his mouth to make a small smack.  

“Like that, got it? …why are you frowning?”

“That’s not what I want,” Luffy says. “I want to kiss like they did.” 

Why are you not shocked a hand kiss would be enough.

“To do that, both parties usually lean in for a kiss together. If it’s something that both people want to do, the rest should come naturally.”

“And they did this,” Luffy says, holding his arms and shaking them around to poorly mimic the embrace the two on stage did. 

“C’mere.” 

You take the ends of his tie, pulling him a step towards you until your bodies are inches away, the straw hat barely grazing the top of your forehead. Luffy lets you easily, watching you with gentle focus. You guide his hands around your middle. You lightly rest your hands on top of his shoulders. You hear a soft swallow. 

“When you want, you lean in. Once our lips touch, you close your eyes. Ready?” You ask. He nods. 

“Okay, just follow me.”

You lean in halfway, slowly, softly pursuing your lips together as your eyes flutter shut, nervousness bubbling up your body until your head feels light. You let it try and fizzle, try to let the stupid pounding of your heart quiet down in your eardrums, but it’s slowly replaced to wonder when your lips stay untouched by Luffy. 

…and, still nothing?

When you open your eyes, Luffy is staring at you, face reddened like a cherry with his mouth agape. His eyes are fixed in awe, flicking between your eyes and lips.

“Sorry, I,” Luffy stutters. “‘S weird. My body… it’s not moving.”

The weird feeling in your stomach has bubbled up again. His flustered cheeks and sheepish smile are quickly blocked from your vision as he mumbles into the back of his hand. 

“I don’t know. It’s like, l-like I don’t deserve it, or somethin’. Haha…”

Overcome with affection for the blushing captain, you quickly close the gap. You want to steal away his anxieties, steal away that flustered nervousness you couldn’t bare to see on him. It takes him only a second to process it before his muscles relax against you. 

Your lips touch his gently. His hands rest on your waist, his straw hat lifting oh-so-slightly by your forehead as you press into him. Those narrow lips of his feel so plush against yours, perfectly slotted together that you feel light and airy. It lasts just as long as last night’s chaste kiss.

When you slowly pull away with a small smooch noise, his face doesn’t look as cherried, save for a light pink tinge across the apples of his cheeks. 

“Cool!” Luffy says, “Let me try!”

“Hold on, I said only once–”

He gains the courage this time to lean wholly, trapping your lips between his thinner ones, feeling the smile etched on his face the whole time. When you pull away, he seems almost back to normal. The lingering worry on his face is gone now.

Smooch!

“Well?”

“It’s good,” Luffy said. “It’s really good. Again. Let’s do it again.”

You both lean in this time, lifting the brim of his straw hat again. His hands naturally graze down to your waist while your hands lay on his chest. His lips aren’t as chapped as you thought they would be. For a guy, they seem very soft. Not in the way that regular skin should be, but more pliable. It squishes against your lips but seems to spring back to form each time you pull back. 

Smooch!

“Again.” 

You both lean in again, as your hands explore past the partially unbuttoned shirt to his chest. Your suspicions of rubbery skin are confirmed as you feel the softness, malleable, that bounces back when you release the pressure of your fingertips. 

Smooch!

“Again.”

After slotting your lips back on his, you swallow down a whine, busying yourself with the feeling of his body against yours, his hands so subtly stroking the small of your spine just above your ass. This time, the straw hat slips off of his head and falls to his back.

A noise of frustration escapes him as he squirms.

“Do what you did last time,” he whines. “Your hands. Like you did yesterday.”

“So you were paying attention, liar.” You grimace. He smiles in response, just like a guilty captain would.

Yet, you have no qualms threading our fingers in his hair, grabbing the tufts together a little too excitedly. You dive back to his mouth to claim his lips. This time, his eyes close in tandem with yours as he slips his hands up and down your torso, kneading the flesh, leaning his body against yours. You absentmindedly feel the fluffy, soft black hair under your fingertips, running your hands through the scalp as Luffy presses his lip to yours. 

“I think,” Luffy breaks the kiss, speaking so close his lips are still grazing yours, “you have magic fingers.”

“Yeah?” You giggle for the first since you’ve started kissing him, making his face light up.

You turn his head slightly to give him a small peck on the cheek, he tries to copy you by stretching his head to yours and planting a quick, hard kiss.

“And you smell familiar.” He says softly. So unnaturally soft for the rubber man that it makes your face burn.

“What do I smell like?” You whisper.

“Like a cabin.”

You giggle. “Okay? Any cabin in particular?”

“Makino’s cabin. Back where I grew up.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Luffy thinks about it. After a moment, he gives you a big nod as if sealing the thought in his mind. 

“Yes,” he smiles.

“That’s nice of you to say, Luffy.” 

He seems to like that compliment. To which he smiles very brightly, now kissing you with a newfound passion that you find attractive.

Okay, like, really fucking hot. 

Luffy smushes your face between his palms and plants kisses any place he can think of. From the lids of your eyes to your temples, to the bow of your nose, and all the parts of your cheeks that squish into his lips when he puts extra pressure. Each time he leaves a small, wet smooch behind, a sound he seems captivated by the more he kisses you. 

“It’s really good.” He murmurs into your skin. 

His arms reach out and grip the back of your neck, almost pulling you closer despite the fact your chest couldn’t press farther. His heavy-handed presence causes you to shuffle a little. 

“Luffy…” You sigh out. You really can’t take it without needing more. You pull away from him; something he doesn’t seem happy about, illustrated by the childish pout he has on his face.

“There’s one more type of kiss we can do.” You whisper breathlessly. 

“Really, what’s that?” Luffy asks. You brush over his lips, noses lightly connected as you whisper to him.

“Just follow my lead, okay?”

You lean into him once more, but now slowly opening up your mouth to have your tongue slip out. You run it over Luffy’s thin lips before running against the entrance. After a moment, Luffy opens his mouth, tongue slowly peaking out past his lips to meet yours. 

You swear there is electricity in the air when it happens because he moans again. Whimpers from the sensation as his hands jolt around the caressed skin. 

Your tongues dance together in shared bliss, Luffy shudders against you at the feeling, grabbing your body like he’s surprised by the feeling. 

Luffy knew how bad you wanted to do this—he said himself—but, he must not know the extent, really. 

Because with every kiss, it just leads to more wanton in you. With every graze of his tongue against yours, feeling the wet muscle that tastes of meat, it makes your breath feel like magma. The noises coming from sucking and tasting his tongue slicks into the dead of night. It’s the only noise ringing in your ears save for the small whimpers and sighs coming from both of you. He despreately brushes his fingers against the sides of your face as his chest tightens, and grows still.

“Breathe through your nose.” You tell him after Luffy starts to turn blue in the face. His breath to hitch, the air exhaled back down your throat hot and wet.  He instantly returns to color, now with a revived energy. 

You can’t take it, him exploring and prodding the inside of your mouth, him gripping and almost vibrating against you as your upper bodies press together. You wrap your arms over his shoulder, permanently sewing your finger pads with that soft hair.

“Ah…” A small moan comes out of Luffy’s mouth when you tug on his hair to tilt his head up and off of yours. You dive in with false expertise as you give wet kisses on the underside of his jaw, consuming the skin until you’ve covered it all. You move to his neck, making him grunt as you pull his head back to expose it in full. Your tongue slowly sweeps down and over until it lands on his jugular, sweetly sucking it now as he gasps. The breathiness turns into a grunt of what sounds like frustration and he riggles against the feeling. 

“I think something’s wrong again,” Luffy says, face knit together. You pull off of him in concern.

“Do you need me to stop–”

“No!” He says, grabbing both sides of your head. His eyes fire wide as he grabs in panic. 

In his expression, he shoves you forward so hard you lose your footing, tumbling down with him onto the planks. You both fall into each other before he scrambles on top of you. 

“What’s wrong, Luffy?” You say, looking up at him.

“I don’t know,” He says, “But… every time I try to think about it, this happens!” His hand dives in between the two of you before hastily grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and pulling it so high his whole chest shows. When your eyes travel down, you see his problem. 

“It’s why I was late! I couldn’t make it go away even when I touched it like you showed me to!”

“Oh.” 

A breath catches in your throat as your eyes adjust under the moonlight. With his other hand, he points crudely to a large bulge now prominent under his pants. 

“Can you show me what I did wrong?” He breathlessly whispers. 

“Y-you did it like last night?” You prop yourself by your arms as he kneels over you. 

“Yeah. It didn’t feel as good, though. Used half of some bottle in the kitchen.”

Luffy shuffles a hand into the underside of his pants, rustling into his boxers until he grips the erection trapped inside. You swallow as he takes his dick, quickly slipping it out.

“You sneaked into the pantry?” And he’s still slick from it. The tip of his penis glistens from the lubricant, as well as the pre-cum now leaking from it. You should be upset on Sanji's behalf that he allegedly used half the bottle of what youf guess is oil from the kitchen, but the view of his dick was too appealing for you to care.

“It kinda hurt without it,” Luffy said. You don’t blame him, mostly thankful for its convenience.

“I can show you then, Luffy,” you whisper, “you can start when you want.”

He beams, bright and contagious, as he grabs onto the head. Without any guidance, he begins to pump himself with an arm propping himself over you. You don’t dare to mention the intimate space he's invading for fear he’ll back off of you. With proximity, you get to see more of his movements, his facial features, and the heat behind his breath.

His face scrunches up in his first initial strokes before easing into a steady rhythm, similar to the brisk pace he kept last night. His hand lingers on the base and shaft, quickly running over the head each time. You could hear the light, moist squelching of oil rubbing against his cock.

“Ah, this is familiar,” Luffy says. 

“Better than earlier?”

“I did this earlier, but it didn’t feel this good.” 

“You did it the same way?” You ask in confusion. 

“I guess.” He shrugs. “I think you help me. This is really fun,” Luffy huffs out.

Luffy’s confession astonishes you. To know you can help him, to know that you and you only have made Luffy experience this, it makes you burn up in lust. 

“Shit, Luffy, you sound so good saying that.” 

You want to reach up and touch him, graze down his body with wonderful kisses, and feel the heat against each inch of skin. You feel your hand inch in front of you to reach up to his face, but when you lift it, Luffy jerks into himself so sporadically that your fingers are caught in the crossfire. 

He’s loud when your hand suddenly fumbles onto his shaft. The feeling of surprise is mutual as you look deeply into one another. His mouth opened, pearly white teeth peeking out.

“Please,” Luffy doesn’t need to say anything else, his fingers hastily interlocking with yours as he lowers them. 

“Touch me like this.”

Your face feels on fire, his hands feel steady and laced with yours as you both grasp his shaft together. He whimpers in delight, satisfied with the new warmth of your hand wrapped with his.

It’s so erotic, so sensual, his shaft feels so hot with the slick of oily lubricant and pre-cum meshing in the crevices of both of your fingers now when you start fisting him. He shudders into you in pleasure, head lulling back and forth like a wave, chasing his highs and mellowing into lows. A wrinkle in between his eyebrows shapes off and on when he bucks out. The moistness of his lips attracts you again, how could you deny the savory taste of Luffy in front of you?

Your lips latch onto him, licking up the saliva awaiting from his drooling mouth. Teeth click together from the intensity you both kiss each other. It’s wild, and uncoordinated, you try to follow the beat of his pace while he desperately chases your tongue after each moan. 

His mouth in combination with his erection, hand, his fingers squeezing into yours as you stroke him. His dick felt firm in your grip, textured with small veins illuminated by the moon. Every time his hand slipped past his shaft, you would help guide him back as quickly as possible, and every time he would thrust his hips forward to compensate. 

“You look so needy like this, but you can’t help it, can you? Such a gorgeous look on your face, so sweet and filthy, hm?” You coo. Something in you adds a little more pressure to his dick stoking down the base. Something that Luffy finds quite enjoyable. It gives you so much gratification to see that lustful, desperate face, that you try something sinful.

“Why don’t you tell me how this feels?” With your one hand interlocked with his, you take your other and dive past Luffy’s leaking erection. You cup his ballsack, feeling the thin skin molding into your hand until you rub up against it.

“Ah!” His head bucks forward into the crook of your shoulder. He’s shaking from the pleasure of it. “So good. So good, I—ahhn!”

You fondle his balls under the breakneck pace of strokes into his cock. The smooth flesh is nothing like his pulsing, steel penis. You inch lower down to the underside of the sack and slowly stroke under until Luffy reduces to nothing but animalistic husks.

“Be as loud as you need to, Luffy.” You rasp. “You can do that for me, can’t you? A good boy like you can do it.”

And just like that, your words seem to coax something in him, because he grips your fingers harder with his, pumping himself into a devious pace, and moaning wildly in between his pants.

Puffs of warmth exhale from his lips, the heat between you two can’t be penetrated by any icy chill of the night air. You feel enveloped in him, in your lust and passion, you can hear his every bit of pleasure, every pump of his dick, and the way the sound of his pants is magnetized with his head tucked to your ear. 

My God, he’s drooling in ecstasy down your neck. You feel the wetness trail like sweat down your flesh.

“Nnn, ahh, ‘s coming out. I can feel it.” Luffy whimpers into your skin. His voice sounds rasped from his panting

“Why don’t you cum then, my captain?” You take the liberty to nip on the skin of his neck. It’s something small, but one that causes his whole body to jolt.

“Mmmph!”

That look. He’s so close to release that he’s completely hunched over you. There’s barely any space for you to stroke his pulsing dick, but you continue regardless. His voice is the only thing you can hear on the ear he’s crushed up against. 

But you don’t get that liberty of him cumming onto you again, however. In your other ear, you hear something alert enough for you to slow your strokes down.

You hear a faint shout from the deck of the Sunny as a familiar voice calls out the two of your names. Your body freezes.

“Luffy, shit, Luffy!”

“Hm?” Dazed and sublime, Luffy has half a mind to hear the panic in your tone. 

“Oiiii!” Says the voice, one that sounds so quiet, but it’s loud enough for you to tell who it is.

With a push you’ll soon regret, you shove him off of you onto his butt, scurrying to sit up.

“It’s the next shift!”

“Ah… so?”

“Get up,” You squeak, pulling Luffy's pants back up, much to his dismay. “Put it away!”

“What?! Why?”

“I told you why yesterday, just do it!” You zip his pants but up against the now trapped erection, and Luffy groans out.

Both of you try to get up at once—Luffy in agitation, you in alarm that his button-up is falling down his shoulder and he looked fucked out of his mind—but you bash your heads together. The clunk is so solid that you double down on the floor. You yelp out in pain, looking up from the corner of your eye to see Luffy’s standing up just fine. 

Of course. Of course he doesn’t feel how hard you collided into each other, the fucking rubber man. 

Quitely, you hear someone. 

“Oiiii, you never woke us up. Is everything okay?” That voice gets louder with each rung of the ladder of the crow’s nest until the latch is lifted. 

Coming from the opening is a mop of blonde hair followed by a mossy green. You freeze, whipping your head to see the state of Luffy. His face is slate, like nothing was happening, and…

What the fuck?

There’s no more bulge in his pants. 

You can’t think of it too hard, with the throbbing pain seeping into your head as your adrenaline creeps down.

“Oi,” Zoro gets up, looking back and forth between you two. “The hell happened here.”

“Ah! My angel, you’re hurt?” Sanji yelped in alarm, “You had me so worried. We were calling out for some time and didn’t hear anything back. And you’re sweating bad…” He kneels to your form glued to the ground, pointing to your neck ladened with Luffy’s drool, looking back at Luffy who was awkwardly standing close with no motion. “Hey, shithead, the hell did you do to her?”

“Nothin’, she was just showing me something.”

You don’t know if those two believe him. With the horrid poker face Luffy typically has in a lie, you can’t bare to look up and confirm it. You rub your head on the ground. 

“I just… bumped my head.” You groan.

He looks back at Luffy, then at you.

“Oh, dear, please go back down and sleep as much as you need, me and moss shit can take care of the rest, okay?”

“Who the hell are you calling moss shit, kitchen boy?”

Yeah, you’re getting the hell out of here before dumbbells are thrown.

Once you get the bearings to look up from the pain, you see the lemon-lime pirates gnawing their teeth at each other. From a glimpse, a straw hat dips down below the crow’s nest latch and disappears. 

You feel a small force compelling you to chase that hat, the man attached to it, that you ignore the masculine catfight beside you and follow it. 

You climb down the mast to the deck of the Sunny and hear your feet knock onto the deck. 

You see Luffy leaning against the dock next to the boys’ dorm, looking out for a moment before latching his eyes on you. You’re glad to see him. He doesn’t seem to be frustrated at the abrupt stop you put things.

“Hey,” Luffy calls, followed by your name.

“Hey,” you softly smile back at him. Maybe it was a little awkward. Maybe you’re distracted by the way the collar of his unbuttoned shirt is still hanging off of one shoulder, or that the shirt tie that laid around his shoulders is gone at this point. You hope it didn’t look weird to the two who came in.

Luffy rustles with the top of his straw hat. The ties of it dangle with the wind of the night.

“Thanks for that! It means a lot.” He says.

And just like that, he retreats to the boys' dorm, leaving you alone again as you make your way to your own bed. You snuggle back in bed with the girls, harboring a hardship that bounced in your head:

Damn. There’s always Nakama somewhere to walk in on you.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter II: Go Your Own Way 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Aemond's written another song about your separation, and it becomes clear to you that he'll do anything to make you suffer.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, depictions of anxiety, smut, oral (f receiving), facesitting, phone sex, description of naughty videos

Word count: 3600 A/N: Thank you so much lovely Justine for looking this over for me @theoneeyedprince ♡

‘DRAGONSTONE: VIBRANT START OF TOUR FOR DRAGON DREAMERS’

Eyes glued to the screen of your phone, you absentmindedly sip your cup of tea, newly awake and curled up on a puffy armchair in your hotel room. 

Life on the road proves to be draining. You still feel exhausted from having to fly from Dragonstone to your current location, Gulltown, right after the show, currently operating on merely 4 hours of sleep. 

You had told yourself that you wouldn’t check reviews from your opening night before you felt ready to deal with all possible speculations of your and Aemond’s divorce. 

You know that the concert had been fantastic, the audience demanded two encores and you left the venue with a sore throat and an unquenchable thirst for more. There’s nothing as exhilarating as the high you feel after a live show. 

Still, you couldn’t fight the urge to google reviews, curiosity getting the best of you. 

‘Tensions were high as Dragon Dreamers entered the nearly full venue on Dragonstone last night. Kicking off with a song from their new album, The Chain, devoted fans are quick to speculate whether guitarist Aemond Targaryen wrote it to-’

You can’t bring yourself to continue, knowing that whatever they’d written would only leave you feeling melancholic. You need all the energy you can muster, which means torturing yourself reading about your divorce isn’t a good idea.

As you’re about to put your phone down, it lights up with Helaena’s name. 

“Are you okay, love? We’ve been waiting for 10 minutes”, she asks, voice sounding a bit strained. 

A meek “What?” is all you manage to get out. You were supposed to meet up in an hour, not now.

“The press? We’ve got 5 interviews lined up and need to leave now. Didn’t Tyland tell you about the change in schedule?”

No. 

And you have a feeling that it isn’t Tyland who’ll be delighted when you show up smelling of sweat from yesterday's gig, with your hair in tangles and face fatigued. 

“Sorry, Hel. I’ll be there as soon as I can, give me five minutes”

No shower. 

No hair. 

No makeup. 

Great. 

In haste, you throw on a pair of jeans, a burgundy top and messily apply some blush and mascara, hoping it’ll distract from the bags under your eyes. You throw one last glance at your reflection before heading down. 

You look exactly like you feel,

Shit. 

You try your best to not let your cheery facade crack, smiling brightly at the journalists as they ask you about yesterday’s show and the ongoing tour. 

No one dares to ask about your personal lives, something you find yourself feeling immensely grateful for. 

Three interviews down, two to go.  

You throw a quick glance at Aemond. You’d been careful to sit on his blind side so you wouldn’t have to feel the searing sensation of him staring you down. Observing him in secret still burns though.  

You know he won’t move quickly enough for you to get caught. After the accident that left him blind in one eye, he always moved slowly. His blind eye has a tendency to lag slightly, not always looking in the same direction as his seeing eye. Self-conscious and afraid of being awarded the epithet ‘lazy eye’ on top of ‘one eye’, he’s trained his body to always move slowly, giving his blind eye a chance to keep up.

The next interviewer enters the small room you’ve been assigned, donning a wide smile as she makes her way to the chair in front of the two sofas where you and your bandmates are seated. 

After quickly introducing herself and the magazine she works for, Harrentown Underground, she jumps straight to the questions, asking you how yesterday’s gig felt and what fans should expect from the upcoming tour.

As she talks, her gaze is trained on Aemond, nodding and smiling brightly when he answers. 

Her eyes narrow slightly as she purses her lips together, visibly tensing up as she asks,

“Has the recent, um, changes in your personal life aided your creative process?”

The tension in the room grows as Aemond stays silent despite the journalist looking solely at him. You’d asked management to let the journalists know that you wouldn’t be taking any questions about your personal lives. She either doesn’t know or doesn’t care; you can’t make out which it is. 

Aemond finally breaks the silence,

“Yes. I guess so” 

“Many fans online suspect the new song you performed yesterday is about your failed marriage, is that correct?”, she continues, completely ignoring you and the other band members as she looks up from her notepad, meeting Aemond’s eye.

He’s completely still as he regards her, taking time to answer so that the awkward atmosphere of the room lingers.

“It is”, he finally admits, catching you by surprise. He’d always been so reserved; never wanting to let the public in on his private life. 

The journalist gives Aemond a sympathetic look, nodding as she replies,

“Heartache really fuels the creative process, is that it?”

Aemond lets out a detached hum, 

“I’m not one to go back on my promises. I value loyalty. The song is about when promises are broken”

Helaena has started to pick at her nail beds next to you. On your other side you feel Jace straighten up, eyes cast down to inspect the floor with newfound interest. 

Nobody wants to say anything; nobody wants to continue this conversation. Except for the journalist, who nods in understanding as she scribbles on her notepad.

“It must be hard, being left by your partner”, she says, throwing a brief, disapproving look your way, “Have you had time to process it all?”

She is clearly not interested in speaking to anyone else in the band. She regards Aemond as if they are the only two in the room. It feels so belittling, being talked about like you’re not even present. 

“Hmm. Betrayal takes time to recover from”, he replies curtly, sounding cold and harsh. 

You feel your throat close up, eyesight going blurry as you take in his words. 

Betrayal? 

You try to the best of your ability to not let any tears escape down your cheeks, tilting your head slightly backwards as you take a deep, quiet breath. 

You will not cause a scene. 

You will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words got to you. 

You will not give him what he wants. 

As soon as the journalist from Harrentown Underground leaves and Tyland tells you to take a break, you make your way to the bathroom in quick steps. 

You rush inside a booth, quickly locking the door before you fall down on the toilet seat, hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your wailing as you begin to cry heavily, sobs ripping through your body in angry waves, and tears pouring down your cheeks.

He’s such a fucking prick. 

He’s such a fucking prick.

He knows exactly what buttons to push to upset you. He also knows exactly how to do it in front of others, without them knowing of the quiet war being fought between the two of you. If that journalist knew the full story of what led to your divorce, would she still pity poor Aemond? 

You cry hard, trying to release some of the frustration built up inside. After a couple of minutes, the tears start to lessen and you roll out some toilet paper, patting it over your soaked face before throwing it in the toilet. 

You exit the booth and move to stand in front of the mirror. 

Seeing your reflection makes you feel worse. Your hair is frizzy from the way you tossed in bed, your mascara has run down your cheeks in black streaks, and your eyes are puffy and red. 

You sigh in surrender, pulling out a concealer from your purse and patting some under your eye to hide the smudged blackness and swollen skin.

If strength was measured by resilience, you’d be a warrior. You wouldn’t let Aemond’s attempts at hurting you hinder you. He’d already controlled your life when you were married. He wasn’t going to continue to restrict you now.

The last interview is with a journalist from King’s Landing Weekly, and you remember meeting him last year when you’d just released your first album. 

He’s a true music nerd, always asking insightful questions about your inspirations, what you want to convey, how you went about the recording process. 

“How has recording been this time around?”, the journalist asks, oblivious to the fact that you’d spent most time alone in the studio, recording your parts separately. 

“It’s been interesting. Production has taken longer than we anticipated, but we’ve got some real bangers we’re eager to share with our fans”, Jace answers with a smile, going on to reveal that you’ll perform some of the new songs during your tour. 

You think back to when you recorded your first album, spending almost every waking hour in the studio with your bandmates. 

Well, mostly with Aemond. 

The nostalgic past when you were madly in love. It seems so distant now. 

On your knees, you hover over Aemond’s face. His nose repeatedly brushes against your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you. He’s lying on his back on the dirty floor of the studio, his arms locked around your thighs, and his hands grip your hips tightly.

You’re so close to breaking. So close. 

Hands resting on your thighs to keep yourself upright, you let your hips rock in tandem with Aemond’s tongue as it fucks you. And when your orgasm crashes over you, one hand moves to his hair, grabbing it harshly as you moan his name. 

Unabashedly, you cry out in pleasure before stilling. Breathing heavily, your mind feels delightfully empty in the bliss-filled aftermath of your peak. 

As you move to get up, Aemond’s grip on your hips tighten, focing you to stay put as he continues his assault on your cunt. You moan, half in pleasure, half in pain, from how his nose brushes against your over sensitive clit, sending jolts of stinging delight through your body. 

“Aem, I can’t-”, you weakly protest as he brings his tongue up to your clit, gently swiping over it. 

His voice is muffled underneath you as he replies, “Yes you can” 

His hands push your hips to forcefully rock your body against his face once more, and you feel the stinging between your legs morph into fierce pleasure, consuming your senses. 

You had tried to keep yourself up slightly to not place all your weight on Aemond’s face, but you slowly lose control over your body and slump down against his face as a second orgasm approaches. 

Satisfied at your defeat, Aemond moves one hand down to your entrance and pushes two fingers inside at once, stretching your slippery hole. You gasp, and when his fingers find your g-spot, you moan without inhibition. 

“Fu-, k-”, you sigh, voice strained. 

Your hands hold on to the edge of the desk in front of you, head thrown back. Aemond’s fingers continue to move in and out of you in calculated strokes as his tongue determinedly massages your clit, and when he closes his lips around your bundle of nerves and suck, you come for the second time; the edge of your vision going black from the intensity.

Your body jerks uncontrollably as you gasp and sigh and moan. 

After your body’s stopped twitching, Aemond’s face pokes out from beneath you, covered in your slick. You’re still breathing heavily, trying to regain your posture and stand, but he tugs you down to the ground and places you in his arms.

“Go on, pretty girl. Clean me up”, he whispers into your ear. You oblige with a smile, kissing away all the remnants of your arousal on his face, revelling in the taste of you on his skin. 

You wish your mind wouldn’t go there whenever you think about the last time you were in the studio together. You wish it wouldn’t drift to the happy memories. 

They hurt the most. 

Leaving someone you still love is so much harder than leaving someone you don’t. You have to continually remind yourself of what a toxic husband he could be. Of how unfair, and controlling, and dangerous he could be. 

In fact, you didn’t really need to remind yourself; Aemond was fully capable of acting horrible on his own. 

As the journalist from King’s Landing Weekly wraps up the last interview of the day, he stands and thanks you all for your time. 

He stretches out his hand and offers each member a handshake. When he reaches you, he holds onto your hand as he gleefully states, “I truly hope we get to hear one of your new songs soon. The emotions you put into song-making is truly something else”

You smile back at him and squeeze his hand, assuring him that you’ll perform a new song soon.

Behind you, Aemond clears his throat a bit too loudly for it to seem unintentional. He stands up, prompting the reporter to move to shake Jace’s hand next to you before leaving. 

All you can think about is getting back to your hotel room, take a long-overdue shower, and a much-needed nap. 

You make your way out of the conference room, but before you can leave, a large hand gently tugs at your shoulder, stopping you. 

You turn around to face Aemond, who gives your form a once-over, 

“Are you doing okay? You look a bit, hm, disoriented” 

If he is trying to sound caring he’s failing miserably. His tone is condescending, nearly mocking. 

“I’m fine”, you reply, jaw shut tight and annoyance tinting your voice “No one told me about the sudden change in schedule”

You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

He nods curtly, “Alright. I’d like to perform a new song tonight, you did back-ups on it in recording; ‘Go your own way’. Would that be okay with you?”

The forced, nice pretence he’s trying to uphold doesn’t fool you for a second, you can hear how he’s holding himself back as he speaks. 

“Of course”, you reply shortly. 

Why is he asking for permission? 

You turn and move towards the door, eager to retreat to your room. Aemond stays put behind you, voice a little more urgent than before as he adds, 

“My girlfriend will come to tonight's gig, if you don’t mind?”

You sigh as you turn the handle of the door, 

“Why would I mind?”

You do mind. 

It feels so wrong to see Alys sit on Aemond’s lap backstage as he whispers something in her ear. It almost feels perverse, seeing your husband with someone else. Like they’re committing a sin. 

Still, you say nothing. Instead, you stubbornly refuse to look their way, focusing on helping Helaena with her eyeshadow at the other end of the room. 

You can’t help but ponder their dynamic. 

Is he as possessive of her as he had been over you? 

Is he as insatiable?

Like the time he demanded you record when you touch yourself, instructing you to place your phone on your stomach so he could hear just how wet you were as your fingers slip inside and you moan his name. 

That was back when he was still working for his grandfather’s company, and he’d occasionally go away on business trips. He’d call you around midnight every night. 

“What would you do if I were there?” 

You hear him breathe heavily. His voice is strained and the distant sounds of him stroking his cock echo in the background. 

“I’d climb on your lap and beg you to fuck me. Beg you to let me ride you”. 

Aemond groans. 

“And then?”

“I’d beg you to suck on my tits as I bounce up, ah-, and down”

You’re so close, forcefully letting your fingers push at your g-spot while the palm of your hand presses at your clit. You know he’s close too by the sounds of his breath hitching and the way he’s swearing under his breath, mumbling “I can’t wait to sink my cock into you”

Or the videos he had on his phone of you. God, did he keep those? You know his favourite had been the one where you’re seen kneeling in front of him, tongue sticking out of your mouth as he coats your face with his cum, asking you who you belong to, who’s little slut you are. 

“Only yours, Aemond. Always yours”

You shiver at the memory. Hopefully Alys had gone through his phone and deleted any and all trace of you. 

You do some vocal warm-ups with Helaena, restless nerves bubbling inside you as you wait backstage to soon enter the stage. 

Wiping some sweat from your palms onto the jeans you’re wearing, you internally remind yourself of the fact that you’d done an incredible show yesterday, and today would be just as good. 

You know that your band will deliver. You always do. Even Erryk, being a new addition, has proven to be a great drummer and teamplayer, possessing both the stamina and skills needed to thrive in Dragon Dreamers. 

You hear the crowd chanting, mood just as elevated as it had been the day before on Dragonstone. As you go over the set list for the night, Aemond suggests you start with ‘The Chain’, like you did yesterday, and end with his new song, ‘Go your own way’. 

Although you’d recorded backups for the song, you hadn’t listened to the entirety of it in the studio. 

Somewhere inside, you know that the song is about you. About the divorce. You remember singing, 

‘You can go your own way’

‘You can call it another lonely day’ 

Anxiety grows within you as you think of having to listen to the entire song. You’d put it off in the studio, never feeling mentally prepared to hear Aemond’s thoughts on how you’ve ‘wronged’ him. 

And now you’ll have to hear it for the first time in public. In front of an audience. 

You can do this.

Just breathe. In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. 

Your breathing is laboured, body vibrating from the excitement of performing. This truly is where you thrive; where you feel your best. 

Where you can contribute something to the world. 

Make people happy. 

You look down at the fans beaming up at you, howling in excitement as they demand another song. 

“Here’s a new song from our upcoming album”, Aemond starts, the crowd cheering louder. 

This is it. The anxiety you’d felt about hearing Aemond’s new song still buzzes within you, but you won’t let that hinder you from giving this song your all as well. You won’t let him intimidate you. 

The song is fast-paced, and Aemond’s fingers quickly pluck the strings of his guitar as he starts to sing, 

‘Loving you isn’t the right thing to do’

‘How can I ever change things that I feel?’

‘If I could, baby, I’d give you my world’

‘How can I when you won’t take it from me?’

He was so intent on playing the victim it was almost laughable. Ignoring his own wrong-doings; his part in your separation. He was suffering; left to bleed out from the knife you’d stabbed in his back. 

Fuck that. 

He’d driven you away with his obsessive behaviour and anger issues. But that was not the story he wanted to tell. 

‘You can go your own way’

‘Go your own way’

‘You can call it another lonely day’

‘Another lonely day’ 

As he sings his solo lines, Aemond stares you down. 

His seeing eye bores into you with a fire you’d hardly seen before. It’s a stark contrast from his damaged eye; the white mist covering it making it appear calm, almost gentle.

He’s found a way to yell at you in public, berating you for leaving him in front of the entire world, without causing a scene. That’s why he’d been so set on appearing civil with you around others. He wants to break you. 

‘Open up, everything’s waiting for you’

Just like yesterday, he sounds uncharacteristically passionate as he sings, much angrier than usual. He basically spits the words at you; ‘go your own way’, ‘everything’s waiting for you’

You can’t keep eye contact with him for long, his gaze too scorching. 

Why is he suddenly so intimidating? 

You try to remind yourself of the fact that you were married mere months ago. 

You know him. He’s still Aemond. Your Aemond.

Or is he? The man staring at you on stage feels far removed from the person you married two years ago. 

As Aemond starts to play his guitar solo, he leaves his microphone, furious eye never leaving you as he approaches you; more akin to a predator than a man. 

You hear the crowd cheer. 

He doesn’t have to look at his guitar as his skillful fingers effortlessly play the climatic guitar solo. He’s treating his instrument like he’s angry at it, harshly plucking at the strings in the most violent manner. He comes up to stand right by you, between you and the audience. You’re forced to face him. To meet his eye. 

The crowd cheers louder and louder. 

His expression is stoic, eye unblinking as he assaults the strings of his guitar. 

Never looking down. 

Only at you.

Thank you for reading!

[zombiefiilm]

It’s Cold Out Here

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer reid has just the plan to keep you warm in the car while you wait for a suspect

warnings: some mentioned with the unsub, classic cm type violence mentioned, no use of y/n, nsfw - 18+ only, making out, car sex(ish?), fingering, handjob, male oral, getting interrupted

word count: 2.1k

When you agreed to wait outside the suspected unsub's house with Spencer Reid, you did not expect it to turn into a several-hour stakeout.

You had pulled up just around the corner from the old house that looked like it was rotting from the inside out, with a perfect view of the front porch from where your black car sat, expecting the man who lived inside to leave the house to find his next victim and allow you to follow him.

His victims were all over the place, young and old, men and women, various financial status'. It just hadn't made any sense from the start and there was barely any bones to the profile at all, the only thing you all knew was that he was a man, likely between the ages of 30 and 45, who had a comprehensive knowledge of the human body and that he was somehow able to take his victims from public places in broad daylight. There didn't seem to be any sexual behaviour in these killings, the unsub killing each victim with a single gunshot to the head and cleanly taking out a different organ from each victim.

The only reason you even had a suspect in the first place was two witnesses stating that they had seen a blue Volvo Sedan that seemed to have driven off in a hurry from the locations the victims were being taken from at a similar time. Thankfully, one of the witness statements had included a partial plate, which Garcia was easily able to track down.

Prentiss and Reid had knocked on the front door earlier in the day, hoping to talk to the unsub with the premiss of him being a witness, but to no avail, the door never opened and with every curtain drawn, they had no visual of inside the home either.

Eventually, the plan had become to wait out the unsub, to follow him and pounce once there was any sign of suspicious behaviour, but it was taking significantly longer than expected.

Since the BAU had landed in Missouri, the unsub hadn't made a single move. While it was fortunate that there had been no more victims, it made it quite hard for you to get closer to finding out who he was. Through his patterns though, you were hoping that tonight would be the time for him to find his next victim.

You had gotten to your spot at around 4pm, Spencer driving and you in the passenger seat, and the blue car was still parked in the driveway. You set yourself up, expecting to be waiting for 4 or 5 hours maximum, but as the clock hit 11pm, alongside the command of staying at your 'stakeout' spot until someone walked out of that front door, you knew you were going to be in for the long haul.

Armed with a box of ritz crackers and beef jerky, you both indulged in the most depressing meal you had in a while.

"One of us should try get some sleep and the other can stay awake and watch, just so we're not both out of our minds tired tomorrow" you told Spencer, wrapping your jacket tightly around yourself, attempting to battle the cold air in the car.

"You can sleep first, I want to read through the files again, see if we've missed anything" he brushed a stray hair out of his face as he reached around to the back seat and grabbed one of the thick folders.

"Alright" you replied, tilting your seat back as far as it could go and wrapping your arms around yourself. "Wake me up in an hour".

"Got it"

"Night Reid" you closed your eyes, desperate to get some rest.

"Night".

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep, but you woke yourself up with your own shivering. The car had somehow gotten even colder in the time you were out. You groggily rubbed your eyes, turning around to see Reid engrossed by what he was reading.

"How long was I asleep?" you sat up, still shivering.

Spencer looked over at you, and then down at his watch. "About two hours".

"I told you to wake me up" you hit his shoulder, "you need to sleep too".

"I'm fine, plus you've been complaining about not sleeping well since we got here, you needed it"

You smiled at him, a little giddy over the fact that he was showing how much he cared about you.

You sat up fully now, taking another folder from the back of the car and opening it up. You knew you wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and there was no point in trying.

As time passed, you hadn't even noticed that your teeth had started clattering with the cold.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, putting down the papers in front of him. "You've been shivering for a while".

"Yeah, just really cold" you answered simply, glancing up at the house again to see nothing had changed.

"You can have my jacket" he quickly shrugged it off "I run hot".

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be cold either"

Without answering, he just leant over the centre console, and wrapped his jacket around your shoulders but stopped when his face was right in front of yours.

It felt like an eternity where you both looked into each other's eyes without a single word. Right as he went to sit back in his seat though, you grabbed his arm to stop him. You weren't even sure what your plan was but you just knew you wanted him to stay that close.

Neither of you were unfamiliar with looking at each other like that. with longing looks across the office and always sitting across from each other on the jet, it was quite clear to everyone on the team that you both felt like more that coworkers.

"I do know another way to warm you up" he gave you a bashful smile, looking anywhere but your face.

"And what's that?" you whispered, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and then down to your lips. You took that as your sign to lean in, gently pressing your lips to his. He almost seemed taken aback, but he quickly kissed you back, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The kiss was gentle, warming, as his hand slowly trailed from your knee up to your inner thigh. You wouldn't have expected him to be this forward, but before you knew it, his large hand was resting right over your heat, through your jeans.

He broke away from the kiss, both of you panting lightly "Is this okay?" his question was genuine as he waited for your okay before doing anything.

"Yes Spencer, please, please touch me" you hadn't expected yourself to be so desperate but the thought of his slender hands down your pants had you squirming in your seat.

The smirk that planted on his face at your desperation would be stuck in your head forever. He quickly unbuttoned your jeans and helped you tug them down to your mid thigh, quickly followed by your underwear.

The moment he saw your cunt, he practically moaned to himself, making quick moves to touch you. His fingers slowly gathered up the slick from your slit before his finger gently caught on your clit, making you jolt.

"God, you're so wet already" he whispered to himself, lifting his finger up to the light to get a good look at your juice on him. He moved his hand back down again, this time gently circling your clit.

His movements had you falling into him already, long forgetting about the freezing temperature of the car, your head resting on his shoulder as his finger travelled down to your hole.

He slowly slid his finger inside and you gasped quietly, the way you were already clenching around the single digit had Spencer rutting into the console he was leaning over.

Pumping in and out of you, he quickly added a second finger. You couldn't help but moan in his ear, your attempts to keep quiet waning as he began to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on.

"H- holy shit Spence" you whined, as his fingers perfectly moved against your spongey walls. With your verbal reassurance spurring him on to please you more, he began to circle your clit with his thumb, in time with his quickening thrusts of his fingers.

All of his moves seemed thought out and calculated, like he was studying every single one of your reactions. He pressed his lips against yours once again, his tongue licking into your slack mouth in time with the movements of his hands.

It only took a few minutes before you were a mess, gentle whimpers slipping from your lips, your hips desperately jerking against his hand, desperate for your release, your hands gripping onto his forearms for stability.

As soon as he added a third finger, you knew you were done for. You squirmed in his hold as his fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your cunt filling the humid car as the coil in your stomach tightened.

"God- Fuck Spence, please, I'm gonna"

"Go on, cum for me, please" he groaned, his thumb circled faster around your clit as he pressed his own hips harder against the car, desperate for some form of release.

It was as if your body obeyed his words, seeing white as the pressure in your stomach released.

Your hips jerked into his hand as you came down from the high, Spencer's fingers still pumping in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm.

Once you finally came down, you feverishly kissed Spencer, desperate to taste him again. You whined into his mouth as he pulled his fingers out of you, quickly missing the feeling of being so full.

As you separated again, Spencer placed his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself on his fingers. Once you licked his fingers clean, he pulled his hand back and kissed you again.

"God, you taste so good" he muttered, sloppily kissing you. It was then you noticed his shifting, desperate for stimulation on his cock.

"Let me help you now" you pushed him back into his seat, palming the crotch of his trousers.

He looked up at the door of your potential unsub, ensuring that he was still inside the house before giving you a nod. You desperately unzipped his trousers, pulling them down just far enough for you to pull out his cock.

You quickly pulled his erection out of his boxers, practically drooling at the sight. God.

The tip was red, precum smeared all over his tip, and it was big in every way.

You eagerly wrapped your hand around him, allowing a glob of your saliva to fall onto his tip before you pumped your hand up and down in small movements. You periodically swiped your thumb over his tip, spreading the pearly white liquid around.

Spencer was gripping onto the car door at your movements, his knuckles white as he desperately attempted to stop himself from bucking his hips into your hands.

Then, you decided you desperately needed to taste him. You leaned down, gently taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

Spencer, in that moment, thought he had died and gone to heaven. He couldn't stop the moans from spilling out from his mouth.

Then, you took pushed your head down as far as you could, tickling the back of your throat as the hair at the base of his cock just-about brushed against your nose. Spencer was on the verge of biting through the skin of his lips to stop himself from fucking your face.

You moved your head back up before taking him entirely in your mouth again, but then Spencer tapped your shoulder and began to lift you off of him.

"The door, the door" his words stopped you in your tracks as he rubbed some of the condensation off of the windscreen in front of him. You got off of him, straightening yourself up in your own seat and pulling up your pants as he tucked himself back into his own trousers.

"I'll get you back" you half whispered as he started the car "later".

You could see him blush lightly as he started to follow behind the unsub. Maybe getting stuck in a car with Reid for 10 hours wasn't such a bad thing.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Summary: A trip to the thrift store becomes overwhelming for Harris, and you and Eddie have to work as a team. But the real test of your relationship's strength is the crisis that unfolds days later.

Warnings: financial insecurity, school lock-in, missing child, police presence, mention of kidnapping, mention of drug addiction, blood (no gore)

WC: 8.5k

Chapter 19/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie has already been awake for two hours when the phone rings. One part of parenthood that he hadn’t anticipated is that children do not understand the concept of weekends. Harris had flung himself out of his racecar bed promptly at 6:30 in the morning, crawling under Eddie’s sheets and poking his nose until he woke up.

“Har, go back to sleep,” Eddie had grumbled, the last word extended in a whine. One cheek was smushed against his pillow, muffling his complaint. “It’s Saturday; you don’t have school.”

In response, Harris pursed his lips into a perfect pout and used his thumb to peel Eddie’s eyelid open, getting as close to his face as possible. His morning breath was tinged with the scent of chocolate; Eddie groggily made a mental note to better supervise his nighttime teeth brushing routine. 

“‘M hungry.”

That’s how Eddie finds himself pouring his third cup of coffee while his son keeps his eyes glued to the TV screen, watching Doug stutter and stammer in front of Patti. Eddie smiles, a blush creeping into his cheeks when he realizes that that’s probably what he looks like around you.

“‘Lo?” He cradles the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, wincing as he clumsily clinks the carafe into place. There isn’t enough coffee left to slosh over the side, a small miracle in and of itself, although he’ll have to brew some more if the caffeine doesn’t kick in soon.

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is sleepy yet sweet, smoothing all the creases of the morning. “Did I wake you up?”

Eddie laughs and takes a sip from his favorite mug, the one that proudly declares #1 Dad. It’s stained and chipped, but he’ll never throw it out. Wayne had bought it for him on his very first Father’s Day; ironically, Eddie had bought him a #1 Grandpa mug that year, probably from the same kiosk at the mall.

“Not even close,” he says, tongue flicking to the corner of his lip to catch the drip of coffee that’s pooled in the crevice. “Someone was up bright and early this morning.” His gaze flits over to the bowl of Cheerios snug between Harris’s criss-crossed legs, mostly uneaten despite his earlier protests that would make an outsider believe he was starving. “How was your sleep?” he asks, swinging back to your conversation.

You switch the phone from one ear to the other. “It was good. Would’ve been better if you were next to me, though,” you add, twirling the cord around your forefinger. If you could, you would capture the safety of his embrace and bottle it, releasing a bit each time you craved his gentle touch. “I might’ve even let you be the little spoon.”

He balks at this with a playful scoff, nearly spilling his coffee with the sudden movement. “Yeah, right,” he chuckles, licking the side of the mug before the bitter liquid can slide off and hit the ground. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Admittedly, his skepticism is rooted in truth; whenever you do get the chance to cuddle in bed, he’s always the one wrapping his arm around your waist, often taking the opportunity to snake a hand up your shirt and let the pads of his fingers brush over your breasts. It isn’t always a display of sexuality or desire–though you can’t say you mind that–but a connection, a way of ensuring that you stay close. 

“Just a few more weeks until we get to find out for ourselves,” you tease, though he needs no reminding. Only sixteen days remain until you officially move in together, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s counting down. “Speaking of which,” you continue, glancing at the clock, “I was wondering if you and Harris wanted to do some furniture shopping for his new room.” You knew that he would be keeping his racecar bed; it’s unlikely he’ll part with it until he’s outgrown it completely. “Y’know, a new dresser or nightstand or something.”

There’s an extended pause on Eddie’s side of the line. You think the call dropped and are about to hang up and redial when you hear him say,  “I, um…I don’t get paid until next week…” He nervously scratches the countertop with one fingernail. 

“Oh.” You grapple with a response, trying to strike a balance of empathy without condescension. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I sold some of Grandma’s old—”

“No way,” Eddie interjects, firmly but not harshly. “I’m not having you spend your money on me. We can just wait until payday.”

“I want to buy this for Harris. I…I probably should have cleared out Grandma’s room months ago, but I couldn’t. I mean, I could, but it felt wrong because I had nothing to put in its place.” You don’t care that you’re babbling on, forging ahead with your impromptu monologue. “It would’ve been too empty, but with you and Harris here, it won’t be empty anymore.”

Eddie tucks his thumbnail between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he prods, not wanting to sound ungrateful. 

“Positive.” You’re much more assured in your reply. “If she knew Harris before she got sick, she would’ve spoiled the hell out of him, anyway.” The moment she saw him happily digging into the Oreos, she would have ensured that the cupboard remained stocked with Double Stuf. “In a way, s’like she gets to spoil him now.”

You can sense Eddie’s resistance tempering with an audible exhale. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure,” he muses, buying time to process the influx of emotions flooding his body. There’s the obvious gratitude that you’re so eager to take care of his son, but it’s cut with the insecurity of him not being able to do so. If you’re going to buy Harris furniture, it should be because you want to, not because he can’t. What if you hold this against him? What if, in the future, there’s an argument and you fire back with a retort about his shortcomings as a father?

Except…you have never done that. Ever. Not that night in the emergency room, or when you’d found out about the CPS report filed that evening. Not even when Eddie had made it his personal mission to tear you down, pulling insults from the depths and hurling them at you with reckless abandon. 

You hadn’t brought up the way he’d helplessly panicked when confronted with the possibility of Harris’s learning disability, or how he’d let anxiety overtake him when he officially received a classification. With everything the two of you had endured, you’d never once echoed his anxieties about his parenting abilities; it was quite the opposite. With you by his side, he feels as though he can take on whatever challenge life chucks at him. 

“Eds? Is everything okay?” Your tone is thick with concern; Eddie realizes that you probably think you’ve upset him. “We don’t have to go—we can do something else, or—”

“Sweet girl,” he says in one exhale, both to reassure you and to remind himself that you’re his, and he’s yours. Love surges through the phone lines when he speaks. “We can pick you up in an hour, if that works? I should be able to wrangle Harris by then.”

“Y’sure?” And, Christ, how his heart sinks when you shrink inward, reflexively making yourself smaller when you’re worried that you’ve offended someone.

Eddie doesn’t answer you directly, instead, calls out his son’s name. “Hey, Harris?” He frowns when Harris completely ignores him in favor of watching the cartoon. Using his free hand, he cups his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, amplifying his voice. “Harris Wayne Munson!”

The sudden sound jolts him out of his TV-induced stupor. “Huh?” 

“Go get dressed and brush your teeth; we’re gonna go shopping with Ms. Sweetheart!” Eddie grins as Harris turns to him with a wide smile of his own. “C’mon, let’s go!” 

Harris jumps up without further hesitation, inadvertently tossing his bowl from the makeshift table of his legs. Milk splatters, instantly soaking into the carpet, and the Cheerios topple out and land in a soggy pile. “Nooo, my bref-ist!” His big eyes well up with tears. “Daddy, you made me drop my bref-ist!”

“You, uh, wanna deal with that?” You can’t hide your amusement at the usual Munson chaos. 

“Probably should, huh?” Eddie jokes back, stretching the phone cord as far as he can and reaching for the paper towel roll. “I love you, babe. See you in a bit.”

“I love you, Eds,” you tell him. “And Harris, too, of course.”

Some more static and shuffling; then, an energetic voice greets you. “Hi Ms. Sweetheart! Daddy made me drop my bref-ist,” the little boy reports. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Har.” You’ve perfected the art of mustering up sympathy for children’s not-soearth-shattering issues, a skill that every preschool teacher must possess. “Why don’t you help him clean up? That way, I can see you even faster.”

Harris pauses, mulling over his options. “Yeah, okay! Gotta go! Bye!”

You hear the clunk of him struggling to replace the phone on the hook, followed by Eddie saying, “Let me say good-bye before you hang—” click. 

Pulling your own receiver from your ear, you stare at it with mild amusement. Never a dull moment with my boys. 

Your boys drive up to your building just over an hour later. You stand up from the bench outside the entrance and smooth down your shorts where they’ve creased. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Eddie lets the pet name roll off of his tongue. He wants to kiss you as you slide into the passenger seat, but he withholds his affection for Harris’s sake. It seems silly, considering you’ll all be living together, but he doesn’t know how his son will react to the romance aspect of it. Will he be happy? Excited? Disgusted by any display of affection?

You give his hand a subtle squeeze, turning around to greet Harris. “Ready to shop till we drop?”

“Till we drop?” Harris wrinkles his nose, glancing between you and his dad. “Why would we drop?”

“It’s just an expression,” you explain, catching a glimpse of the smile tugging at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. “Just means that we’re going to shop until we’re too tired to shop anymore.”

“I never get tired,” Harris declares, sticking his legs straight out so his flexed feet push up against the back of the driver’s seat, nudging Eddie slightly forward. “Grampa Wayne calls me an ‘Energizer Bunny.’” He bounces up and down in his booster seat to prove his point.

Eddie reaches his right arm around, keeping his left firmly gripping the wheel, as he moves Harris’s feet from where they’re planted into his lower back. “So, Har,” he starts, easing his weight onto the brake as he approaches a red light, “we’re gonna look for a new dresser for you, and maybe a nightstand.” He takes a deep breath as he delivers the news: “That means we’re not making any pit stops for toys. Got it?”

You want to interject, to let Eddie know that you don’t mind splurging on a small treat for Harris, but you bite it back. Whether or not you have the spare funds is irrelevant: this is the boundary he’s set for his son, and you have to respect it, regardless of your desire to spoil him.

Harris, however, does not accept the announcement as readily. “Not even, like, a little one?” he presses, holding his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Even if I’m really, really good?” He gives a hopeful smile, eyes blinking expectantly.

Eddie looks at you, serving as your cue to provide your input. You nod your approval, trying to hide your delight in being asked to make a parenting decision, regardless of how menial it may seem. He peers up through the rearview mirror at his son’s waiting face. “If you’re really, really good,” he acquiesces, features pinching into a grimace when Harris’s exuberant squeal echoes through the sedan. “You have to use your inside voice and stay next to us the whole time. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harris confirms. “Deal, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Deal.” Laughter bubbles up inside you and you let it spill out uninhibited. You know that telling a child he can get a toy is an easy part of parenthood, but you silently swear to never take for granted being included in that choice. Harris joins you, though he’s not quite sure why he’s laughing, but your joy is contagious. 

You lean your head against the car window, listening to the buzz of the radio filling the silence. Harris hums along, more on-key than the average five-year-old, which you can safely attribute to him having a musician for a dad.

“I’m not getting a new bed, right?” Harris says with sudden urgency. “Because I wanna keep my racecar bed.”

“Mhm,” you affirm, smiling when Harris relaxes back against the headrest. “Your racecar bed will be in your new room, don’t you worry.”

“Okay.” That response satisfies him until he thinks up another question. “An’ you’re bringing your bed, Daddy?”

Eddie chuckles as he pulls into the Goodwill parking lot. He picks a spot close to the store, right next to a green Ford with a faded “Clinton ‘96” bumper sticker. “Um, no. I’m not bringing my bed.” 

“So are you getting a new bed?” His eyes dart from side to side as he assesses the size of the car. “Where’s it gonna fit?”

“I’m, uh, not buying a new bed, either.” Eddie kills the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, swiveling to face Harris, who is more confused than ever. “Ms. Sweetheart and I are going to share her bed.”

Harris kicks his feet, processing this new information. “But you didn’t get married yet,” he points out, “so how can you share a bed?”

You rest your palm on Eddie’s forearm in quiet reassurance. “Some people share a bed before they get married,” you explain simply, knowing that less is often more when talking to young children.

“When are you gonna get married?” he asks, more curious than meddling. “Because it’s taking forever. My friends’ mommies and daddies are already married.”

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Harris essentially referred to you as his mommy; instead, he slowly exhales. “I’d like to marry Ms. Sweetheart someday, and I think she’d like to marry me, too.” He looks over at you with a sheepish grin, and you give his hand an agreeing squeeze. “But, for now, we’re just going to try out living together. How does that sound?”

“I guess that’s okay.” Harris isn’t completely thrilled with his dad’s response, but he relents anyway.

“While, we’re, uh, on the subject,” Eddie continues, the tips of his ears flushing pink as he carefully considers his words. He chews on the inside of his lower lip. Is he really doing this? Is he opening his son up to this relationship? “You know that Ms. Sweetheart and I love each other very much, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes,” Eddie continues with only some trepidation, “sometimes, when grown-ups love each other a lot, they hold hands o-or kiss. Would that be weird for you? If Ms. Sweetheart and I held hands, or kissed?”

You avert your gaze, partly from bashfulness but mostly so Harris doesn’t feel any pressure from either of you. 

The little boy looks at the car’s ceiling, centering his focus on the overhead lighting. Finally, with utmost certainty, he declares, “just no tongue-kissing.”

You snort out a laugh while Eddie goes bright red and sputters, “where did you learn about that?”

“Young and Restless,” Harris reports nonchalantly. 

Eddie rubs his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his lids until his vision blurs. “Remind me to tell Wayne to stop letting him watch the soaps,” he grumbles to you, turning back to his son. “Yeah, no tongue-kissing.”

You easily lace your fingers with Eddie’s as you walk through the front doors of the Goodwill. Harris starts making a beeline for the toys, but Eddie uses his free hand to pivot him in the direction of the furniture department. Harris huffs but complies, trudging alongside you. 

There’s a bright blue nightstand on display that immediately catches his eye. “Look!” he points, smiling so wide that all of his baby teeth are on display, “can I get it? Please?”

Eddie smiles warily, flipping over the white tag hanging from one silver drawer handle. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees the price is within the range of what he’d like to spend; rather, what he’d be comfortable asking you to spend. 

“Looks like we’ve got a winner,” he says, posture straightening with the announcement. He runs his fingertips over the surface, checking for any chipping paint or splintering wood, but the finish appears to be intact. “I’ll go tell someone to set it aside for us.”

He sets off in search of an employee, leaving you alone with Harris. You swallow the nervousness building in your throat. You spend nearly every day taking care of children, but you’re suddenly inundated with the memory of losing him at the flea market. Those few minutes when you couldn’t locate him were some of the scariest of your life. 

And yet, it hadn’t prevented Eddie from giving you another chance.

“Are you excited to move in with me, Har?” you ask, reaching out to ruffle his curls.

He nods, then looks straight up at you so that you’re staring at his nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart?” The position of his neck changes his voice’s pitch so it’s froggy. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Can you marry my daddy?” His eyes shine with potential. “And then you can be my mommy for real?”

You crouch down to his height, heart melting at his request. “Harris, I love your daddy very, very much. And I love you very, very much, too.” You poke his nose gently, and he giggles. “Being married is a big responsibility—”

“‘Sponsibility?”

“Mhm. Responsibility. It means a really important job.” You slide your heart pendant across the chain on your neck anxiously. “And your daddy and I want to make sure that we’re ready for that kind of responsibility before we do anything, okay?”

Harris nods, but you can tell from his crinkled nose and furrowed brows that he doesn’t fully understand. You can’t blame him; it’s an abstract concept, one that even you often have trouble comprehending. “But I can tell you one thing: whenever your daddy wants to propose, I’ll say ‘yes.’” You smile at the thought of Eddie asking you to be his wife. 

“Is that where he gets down on one knee and asks ‘Will you marry me?’” You’re about to respond when he adds, “and then someone runs in and yells about being their long-lost ‘dentical twin?”

Yeah, no more soap operas for Harris. 

Finding a dresser proves to be a much more difficult task than picking out the nightstand. Everything that Harris likes is out of budget, and everything within budget is too worn down or small. There’s one that’s in good condition and isn’t too pricey, but it’s covered in hand-painted unicorns. 

“That’s for girls!” Harris groans, stomping his feet. The last word is stretched in a whine. “I can’t have girl stuff!”

“We can paint over it. Whatever color you want,” you quickly jump in, trying to avoid a meltdown, but your efforts are fruitless. Fat tears stream down his cheeks; he’s already determined that the dresser is tainted. 

“No! No, no, no!” he howls, throwing himself on the floor. He smacks down on his tailbone, fanning his tantrum’s flames. He quiets for a moment, too shocked to cry, but then he’s screaming louder than before. 

It’s as though he’s lost control of his body, arms and legs knocking into the lower shelves without care. You can’t block him in time before he knocks over a lamp—a Nickelodeon-themed one that would have been perfect in his new room, ironically—and it shatters on the ground. Ceramic splinters, scattering across the linoleum like roaches in the light. 

People start to stare, some with sympathetic looks, and some glare angrily at the child daring to interrupt their shopping. Eddie’s face blazes, vision swimming as he wracks his brain for a solution. 

You’re faster, slapping a few bills into Eddie’s palm and jolting him from his thoughts. He watches you scoop Harris off of the floor, trying to avoid his flailing limbs. 

“Go get the nightstand and pay for the lamp,” you tell him, straightforward and precise. “I’ll get him to the car and calm him down. Keys?”

Eddie blinks, the information swirling around him but not quite penetrating the surface. It’s when you hoist Harris onto one hip and balance his weight in one hand, using the other to make a ‘gimme’ motion that it registers. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” Eddie fumbles for the car keys and tosses them to you, the two of you working in tandem. A well-oiled machine. You nod gratefully, wincing as Harris’s foot makes contact with your thigh. “I’ll be right out.”

You’re able to bring him to the car, struggling to unlock it and hold on to Harris. After a few failed attempts, you manage to open the passenger door and sit him on the seat. 

“Harris, hey, Harris?” you start, keeping your voice soft and even while trying to pull his attention. His sobs are slowing down but he’s definitely breathing too rapidly for your comfort. “Hey, bud. You’re okay, all right?” You extend your hand and he tentatively places his own palm on top of it. “You wanna give my hand a squeeze?”

He does it, the motion grounding him enough that he can focus on your body in front of him. You don’t want to touch him, knowing that his senses are already overstimulated from the tantrum. Instead, you relax as his squeezing grows stronger and his breaths gradually even out. 

“There ya go, Har. Just like that.” You smile warmly. “That was a really big feeling, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” His voice shakes and hiccups. He swipes at the tears on his cheeks, smudging them into his skin. 

You reach into the center console and grab a tissue, wiping the mucus from his nose and lips. “Good as new.” With no trashcan nearby, you shove the used Kleenex into your pants pocket. “Can you tell me what made you so mad in there?”

“D-Don’t want girl…girl st-stuff,” he stutters through ragged breaths. 

There’s a time and place to discuss the optics of categorizing interests into ‘boy’ and ‘girl,’ but you know better than to have that conversation now. “Oof, that’s why you were angry! That’s a lot to handle.” You gingerly tuck a curl behind his ear. “But, Harris, did you see what happened when you started hitting and kicking?” He shakes his head. “Well, you knocked over a lamp and it broke. You could have gotten hurt, or someone else could have gotten hurt.” 

Harris’s face falls as you speak, absorbing what you’re explaining. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he sniffles. “‘M sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you sigh, “sometimes, when we have big feelings like getting angry, we do things we shouldn’t without even realizing.” You pause for a moment, biting your lip as you consider your words. “Do you want to hear what helps me when I have really big feelings and I can’t scream and cry?”

“Mhm.” He nods again, little tongue peeking out to swipe up the tears above his mouth. 

“I take a deep breath and close my eyes,” you start, demonstrating both actions. Inhale for three, exhale for three, and repeat. “And then I picture myself being in my favorite place in the world.” You smile at him, blinking back the sadness that comes with memories of holidays at Grandma’s. “Wanna try it together?”

Harris responds by closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Good job, Har,” you softly praise him. “Now breathe out; make sure you’re thinking of your favorite place, okay?”

“Thinkin’ about the zoo,” he whispers, voice raspy from shrieking for so long. “Daddy taked me there and we saw so much animals.”

“Zoos are a lot of fun,” you agree with a laugh. “I’ve never been to the one in Hawkins. Maybe we can go over the summer?”

“Yeah! I wanna show you the flamingos!” His grin stretches across his cheeks “Do you like flamingos?”

Like most people, you don’t have a strong opinion on flamingos, but you respond with an enthusiastic, “I love them!”

“Love who?” Eddie’s voice breaks into the conversation. He’s rolling out the nightstand in a cart, keeping one hand on top of it to hold it steady. “Me?”

You laugh, opening up the back door so he can wedge the furniture next to Harris’s booster seat. “Yes, Eddie. I love you very much, don’t worry,” you tease, seizing the opportunity to inconspicuously check him out. His biceps flex as he maneuvers the nightstand, and you have to tear your gaze from his denim-clad ass when he stands up and triumphantly wipes his hands on his pants. 

“C’mere.” He pulls you in, pursing his lips in an exaggerated pout and planting a smacking kiss on you. 

While you giggle, Harris is not as amused. He claps his hands over his eyes and groans. 

“No tongue-kissing!”

You’re wrapping up storytime, your students fidgeting with their shoelaces—some fidgeting with their friend’s shoelaces—eager to move onto the corresponding art activity Will has planned. 

“Okay, we’re going to use our walking—” Your announcement is cut short by Principal Sinclair’s voice coming over the loudspeaker. Her tone is typically warm and excited, but the way she speaks so sternly sends chills through your entire body. 

“This is a lock-in. All staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified. I repeat, all staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified.”

You breathe out, though you’re still concerned about the cause of the lock-in. It’s usually some kind of medical issue that requires emergency services to have unblocked access through the halls. You hope that whatever it is isn’t life-threatening. 

Will locks the door wordlessly, and you repeat your directions to the class. The kids walk to their seats, asking non-stop about what a lock-in means. 

“We just have to stay in the classroom,” you find yourself repeating, losing patience with each iteration. You’re thankful for small miracles; your class has already gone out for recess, which means you don’t have to break that news to them. 

Will is helping the kids glue multicolored strands of crepe paper in the shape of a rainbow, complete with cotton ball clouds. You’re unclogging a bottle of Elmer’s when the classroom phone rings, startling you. You place the glue bottle on the table, promising Joshua that you’ll be right back, and answer it. 

“Hello?”

“We need you to come to the office immediately,” the secretary’s clipped voice informs you. “Bring your personal items. We’ll send someone to assist Will.”

Stupidly, you nod before remembering she can’t see you. “Y-Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.” You hang up, tell Will the plan, and bolt out the door. 

What the hell is going on? Why are they having me break the lock-in to go to the office? You hike your purse higher up your shoulder, trying to ignore the dread pooling in your stomach and creeping up your throat. 

Something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong. 

Your feet can’t carry you fast enough. You nearly stop breathing when you see Eddie pacing in the lobby, Marion and Paula standing off to the side and speaking with Chief Hopper. The two teachers wear matching worried expressions. 

As soon as Eddie spots you, he’s charging over. “Oh, thank God,” he murmurs, throwing his arms around you and hugging you tight. You can feel the tears falling from his eyes, wetting the crook of your neck. His hands squeeze against your back and your shoulder blades as his body is wracked with sobs. 

You weave your fingers through his hair, holding him as close as you can. You’re desperate to know what’s going on, but you doubt he could explain if he tried. Instead, you continue comforting him while Principal Sinclair walks over. 

Her strides are long and purposeful, and she meets your own terrified gaze with her own. “Harris went missing during recess,” she says quietly, “and Mr. Munson let us know that you might be an asset in locating him.”

Harris went missing. Bile inches up your esophagus and you swallow it, wincing at its burn. “Why would he—” You stop mid-sentence; his motive is not important right now. All of your focus needs to be on finding him. 

Chief Hopper approaches you and Eddie, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder with two fingers. Eddie looks up, wipes his face with the heel of his palm, and clears his throat, but a fresh batch of tears threatens to spill over anyway. 

“We’ve just collected statements from his teachers,” Hopper reports, looking down at his notepad. “They said that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that Harris was just playing with his friends one moment and then gone the next.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, something had to have happened.” Harris had wandered off plenty of times, like at the flea market. The difference was that he was easily found. “If you haven’t found him, then he’s either hiding, or someone…” The thought is too painful to finish. 

Hopper looks over at the principal. “You’re certain that the playground is secure?” He asks her, not accusing, but waiting for confirmation. 

“Yes, absolutely secure,” she affirms, nodding her head. “The gate can only be opened from the inside, so no one can access it off of the street.”

You know this, of course, but it doesn't bring you closer to finding Harris. 

“We’ve taped off the playground,” Hopper continues, “and we’ve got a search squad going now. Considering that Harris has been diagnosed with a disability, we’re beginning this investigation right away.”

“Mr. Munson,” a second officer chimes in, “is there anyone who would be inclined to take your son? Perhaps a non-custodial parent or an estranged relative?”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “His mom, um, isn’t in the picture. Never has been.”

Hopper cocks one brow. “Never?” he asks disbelievingly. “How soon after he was born did she relinquish her rights?”

“She, um,” Eddie swallows, rubbing his nose in embarrassment, “she never did. Never relinquished her rights, I mean. She just kinda split.”

“So there was no formal agreement that she could no longer be involved in Harris’s life?”

“N-No,” he stammers, shame seeping from every pore. He’d always meant to start the legal proceedings, but that takes time and money…and maybe a small part of him had always hoped she’d come around and do the right thing. 

He looks over at you now, the way you’ve stepped into a mothering role like a puzzle piece. Like any parent, you’d made some mistakes, but you’re also the most compassionate person Eddie has ever known. 

He thinks of the times he’d tried to make his ex get clean, to want to get clean, and to be there for Harris. The weight of disappointment caused his chest to ache every time she’d mumble, “I’m gonna, but not right now” or “I don’t need help.”

Perhaps it’s unfair to compare the two of you; after all, you hadn’t struggled with addiction. But Eddie can’t help himself. You’d loved Harris before you’d even loved him, he realizes. And he’d never had to ask you to. 

“Do you have any contact information for her?” Hopper taps his pen against his notepad. “Nine out of ten times in these situations, the child is with someone they know.”

What about the ‘one’ time? What happens then? Heat pulses in Eddie’s cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. He doesn’t need Hopper to answer the question; he already knows what that means. 

“It’s from five years ago, so I don’t know if it’s still accurate.” He stumbles over his words, thinking about the last time he’d called her; it was the invitation to Harris’s birthday. “I don’t know it by heart, but I have it in my address book at home.”

Hopper gives a brusque nod to his colleague and to your boss. “We’ll give you a lift. And, uh, it’ll be good to set up your place as a home base.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Eddie mumbles, simply going through the motions without processing them. He’s on autopilot, a robotic version of himself. If he was able to fully absorb his surroundings, he would note the irony of him sitting in the back of the cop car because they’re helping him instead of escorting him to the county jail. 

You don’t let go of his hand the entire ride there, your thumb rubbing the soft hairs on his knuckles. “We’re gonna find him,” you whisper reassuringly, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

But Eddie is too embroiled in his own thoughts, imagining every possible tragedy that could have befallen his son. As soon as Hopper pulls up to the apartment complex, Eddie is flying up the stairs, two at a time, unlocking the door as fast as he can. You run in behind him, watching as he flings loose papers and pens from a kitchen drawer. He’s kicked over the boxes he’s already packed; clothes and some of Harris’s toys are scattered across the floor like a poorly-designed booby-trap. 

He holds up the tattered black book, flipping through it until he lands on the right page. “Here. Right here.” He frantically points to an entry at the top, fingertip jabbing into it over and over. 

Hopper takes the book from him, careful not to rip the already weathered materials. He dials the digits and frowns when he’s greeted by the automated we’re sorry, this number is no longer in service, far too chipper for the circumstances. He tries once more in case he dialed incorrectly, but he gets the same message. 

“Disconnected,” he says gruffly, hanging the receiver with a clank. “Is there anyone else?”

Eddie can only shake his head somberly. If Wayne got Harris from school early, he would have told him. He wasn’t even sure how much of Harris’s maternal family knew of his existence, let alone his location. If someone took his son, it was more than likely a complete stranger. 

Hopper’s walkie crackles with static; you and Eddie stiffen with anticipation. “Hey, Chief?” comes from the garbled voice on the other end. 

“I’m here.”

“We’ve got a kid here at the school who says he spoke with Harris Munson right before he went missing today.”

Eddie stands up, walking closer to Hopper. Part of you expects him to grab the walkie and try talking straight to the other officer, but he doesn’t. 

Hopper presses the small black button and speaks. “Copy. Does he know where we might locate him?”

There’s a deafening silence for a few moments; no more than ten seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime. Finally, there’s some information: “No known location; just says that Harris told him he was having ‘big feelings’ and needed to go to his favorite place.’”

“The zoo,” you murmur aloud, drawing confused looks from both men in the room. “When he got upset on Saturday—at Goodwill—I taught him to do some deep breathing and picture being in his favorite place, and he told me it was the zoo. But I…” you swallow, furrowing your brows, “I told him to picture it, not actually go there.”

“Zoo’s too far for him to walk, and no bus driver is going to let a kid that young ride by himself,” the chief points out. 

You nod, biting your lower lip. “He might not be at the zoo, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to get there.”

Hopper thanks the other officer and turns to you and Eddie. My guys are deploying the search party as we speak.” He takes a deep breath and makes direct eye contact with you and Eddie. “We’ll do everything we can to bring your son back safely.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands, collapsing back against the living room wall and sliding down to the floor. 

You look over at the police chief. “Can we help? Join the search…or something?” Anything besides sitting around and waiting for answers. 

“Absolutely. We’ll keep an officer stationed here in case Harris comes home.” 

You nudge your foot against Eddie’s. “C’mon, babe.” You try to keep strength behind your words, to be what Eddie needs right now, but it gets harder with each passing second. “We’re gonna go look for him.” He looks up and notices that you’ve extended your hand, and he takes it, pulling himself up. 

He doesn’t say a word, but he follows you and Hopper out the door. He’s gnawing on his lips so violently that some skin peels off between his teeth; flecks of blood dotting his usually perfect mouth. 

“We’ve got some time before sunset, so that’s on our side,” Hopper says as he drives back the way he came. “We’ll start in the woods near the school, and we’ll move from there.” He peers back at the two of you through the rearview mirror with a determined gaze.

“My uncle,” Eddie says suddenly, no certain expression on his face. He’s practically catatonic when he talks. “I want Wayne to wait at the apartment. I need to tell him…” If Harris does return home first and sees police officers surrounding the place, he might get scared and run off again.

Hopper scratches at his beard. “We’ll let him know, all right? Don’t worry about that.” He radios the instructions to a colleague, who confirms them and signs off, before pulling into a grassy area and killing the engine. “Let’s go. If Harris is going to come out for anyone, it’ll be you two.” He slams his door and then helps you and Eddie out of the backseat. 

Before you can even begin, you hear a group of people shouting Eddie’s name. You look over to see Jeff, Jess, and Robin waving and walking towards you. 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Robin says, giving you and Eddie a hug. “We’re gonna help you, and we’re not leaving until we find him.”

Jeff offers a tight smile, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We’re here for you man,” he promises, sincerity in its purest form. “Viv is gonna stop by later and I’ll take care of Ettie.”

It’s a kind gesture, but Eddie’s stomach sours at the thought of still searching later. He needs to know that his son is safe now. 

Harris’s name is echoed over and over, bouncing off of trees and shaking the leaves as you and your friends call out for him. 

“Harris!” you cry out, throat raw from your constant shouting. “Harris, it’s Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Harris!” Eddie’s voice is even louder than yours; the power behind it is palpable. “Harris, it’s Daddy! Please come out! You’re not in trouble!” he adds, cognizant of the little boy’s fear of making people mad. 

Every squirrel that darts across the forest floor has you whipping your head around, heart leaping at the prospect of Harris emerging from where he’s hiding. 

He has to be hiding; your mind won’t let you imagine what could happen if the wrong person saw him walking by himself, determined to get to the zoo…

“Harris, Aunt Robin and I will buy you any toy you want!” Jess yells. “And all the ice cream you can eat!”

The five of you take turns making promises to nobody; they’re secrets shared with the wind. Each unanswered call leaves you feeling more defeated, especially with the sun hanging lower in the sky. It will be dark soon, leaving Harris even more vulnerable than he already is.

Will joins the group a few moments later, bringing granola bars, water, and flashlights. You can only stomach about a quarter of your snack, having completely lost your appetite. Eddie doesn’t even bother to eat, fueled by adrenaline rather than food.

“Principal Sinclair is also looking,” Will tells you and Eddie. “She’s with Lucas and Erica over at Merrill Wright’s farm. It’s closer than the zoo, but he’s got some animals, so they wanted to check there.” He pauses, casting his eyes down for a second before looking at Eddie. “Everyone’s helping out with this. They all want to find Harris.”

Tears well up along Eddie’s lash line; he blinks them away to keep his vision clear. “Thanks, man.” He coughs to clear his throat, emotions forcing their way through. “That means a lot.” For a moment, he sees Will as he was when they first met: an overwhelmed little freshman, unsure of his place in high school, let alone in the world.

What if Harris never gets the chance to find himself? What if he doesn’t get to grow up and learn new things, make his own mistakes, figure out who he is?

You put an arm around Eddie, unknowingly pulling him from his intrusive thoughts. “Can you try to drink some water? Please?” You know better than to nag him about eating right now, but the last thing he needs is to get dehydrated.

He cracks open the bottle and takes a few sips, not realizing how thirsty he was until the liquid covers his tongue. He downs it all without taking a breath, the plastic crinkling as he siphons out every last drop of water.

“Take mine,” you tell him, offering it with the best smile you can possibly muster, but he shakes his head.

“You need it, too.” He’s not wrong, but you have no issue letting him drink from your bottle if he’s still thirsty.

You take a sip and pass it to him. “We’ll share.”

Another hour passes, the pink and orange hues becoming deeper purples and reds as the sky darkens with night. Some people start to call it quits, returning home to their own children, breathing secret sighs of relief that they have children to return home to. Your group remains intact; no one is even considering leaving until they physically cannot move any longer.

With just overworked flashlight bulbs illuminating your path, you continue trudging through the woods. Hopper’s shift was over hours ago, but he’s steadfast in his pursuit to find Harris.

Eddie’s exhausted physically and emotionally, feeling like every part of him has been drained and can never be replenished. His son is missing; he might have been kidnapped, and he doesn’t know if or when he’ll see him again. All he wants is to hold him again, to hear his little laugh as he tells a cheesy joke he learned at school, to watch him sound out new words or draw a picture or just fall asleep in his own bed.

Hopper’s walkie crackles; he clutches it tight and holds it so he can hear it clearly.

“Chief, we may have a sighting.”

A light flickers behind Eddie’s eyes; he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he can’t help himself. He listens intently as the other officer relays the information.

“Doris Driscoll just went outside to let her cats in for the night, and when they didn’t go inside, she went looking. Found them behind a bush, eating crackers out of a little boy’s hands. He told her his name is Harris. Matches the descriptions the father provided.”

Eddie grabs your hand, gripping it with whatever strength he has left. You feel a surge course through your veins as Hopper motions for you to follow him to his car. He turns on his siren and guns it down the road, swerving in and out of traffic to get to the old woman’s house as fast as he can.

Please, please let him be here, you silently pray, subconsciously screwing your eyes shut and holding your breath. The only thing worse than not knowing where he is might just be a false alarm that he’s been found. 

Hopper slams on the brakes behind an ambulance parked in front of the Driscoll residence, their open doors allowing the fluorescent lights to stream through. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as an EMT wheels a stretcher over to it. 

A stretcher carrying Harris. 

“Harris!” Eddie cries in simultaneous relief, exuberance, and fear. He instinctively reaches for a door handle, quickly remembering that he’s in a cop car and had to wait for Hopper to let him out from the outside. 

You’re already crying; everything you’d been holding back to maintain a solid resolve for Eddie is crumbling as soon as you’d seen his son. You scramble out of the car, right behind him, and run to where the emergency technicians are treating Harris. 

He’s awake and alert, and he spots the two of you right away. “Daddy! Ms. Sweetheart!” He tries sitting up, but a technician gently guides him to lay down again. “No, that’s my daddy and my almost-mommy!” he protests. “I gotta see them!”

You and Eddie reach him at the same time. He’s covered in dirt; it’s smudge along his cheeks, his arms, and his legs. He’s even managed to get some on the tip of his nose. Some blood is smeared on his right knee where he’s seemed to have scraped it, and the EMTs spray some antiseptic on it and apply a bandage before he can even feel the sting.

“Oh, thank God.” The words rush out of Eddie’s mouth, and he puts his palms on his son’s cheeks and presses kisses all over his face. “You’re okay, you’re okay…” He turns to the technicians, worry pinching his brows together. “He’s okay, right? There’s nothing wrong?” He pushes some of Harris’s damp curls from his forehead. There aren’t any visible bumps or bruises on his face, which eases a bit of his nerves.

One technician nods. “Right now, it seems like he’s just got some minor lacerations, but we’ll run the gamut of tests to rule out more severe injuries.” She looks over at the police chief, who stands a few yards behind you. “We’ll take it from here.”

Hopper gives a small, sad smile; it’s then that you remember that his own child had passed away nearly twenty years ago. She was only a little older than Harris is now. 

Eddie follows your gaze with red-rimmed eyes, the realization setting in for him, too. “Thanks, Chief,” he says, just loud enough so Hopper can hear him. Hopper nods, placing his hat atop his head before walking away.

The EMTs check for any broken or sprained bones, shine lights into Harris’s pupils, and ask him a few simple questions to assess for a concussion. “We’ll have to take him to the hospital, just to be sure,” they say to you and Eddie, “but barring any extenuating circumstances, you should be able to bring him back home tonight.”

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Eddie breathes, crouching down a bit so he’s eye-level with his son. “Har, can you tell us why you ran away from school? You’re not in trouble; I promise.”

Harris looks down at the blanket draped across his lap. “I had really big feelings, and I tried thinking about the zoo like you told me,” he glances at you, “but then the feelings didn’t go away, so I decided to go there.”

You take his small hand in yours. “What were the big feelings?” you ask gently, free of judgment and filled with concern.

He thinks for a second, then states matter-of-factly, “Mad and sad.”

“Mad and sad?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, wiping at his nose with his free hand. “‘Cause of Ms. Marion and Ms. Paula.”

You freeze, trying to regain your composure before Harris can pick up on your uncertainty. “What happened with your teachers, Har?”

“They were saying mean things about you and Daddy, and it made me mad and sad.”

At the sound of his title, Eddie speaks up. “Mean things about us?”

“Yeah, like, that Ms. Sweetheart is probably teaching you how to read, too,” Harris explains, “and I said that they’re lying, that you’re really smart and read to me all the time. And that Ms. Sweetheart isn’t your teacher; she’s my almost-mommy.”

Eddie clenches his fists, veins prominent as his body goes stiff. His anger isn’t at the insult, but at the way they could speak so brazenly about a child’s family, disregarding the hurt it causes. He doesn’t care what those women think of him, but he’s furious that they upset Harris.

“They keeped laughing and telled me to go play,” Harris continues, getting choked up at the memory. “I tried to do my breathing and my favorite place remembering with Charlie, but it didn’t work. And I got lost going to the zoo–the real zoo, not the one in my imagination–so I hided with the cats until the nice lady found me.”

You and Eddie share heartbroken looks, pushing aside your respective emotions as you tend to the little boy laying in front of you. “Get some rest, Har Bear,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. “You had a long day.”

He falls asleep after a few minutes, constantly checking to make sure that the two of you are still by his side. As soon as his breathing steadies and his eyes remain closed, Eddie turns to you, exhausted and running on fumes. Wet brown doe eyes pleadingly gaze at you, lids heavy with sleep. You wrap your arms around him, unable to get close enough. He moves slowly, every action a delayed reaction, but he gradually embraces you, too.

“Stay. Please.” The words are muffled by the way his mouth is mashed into your scalp, but you hear them perfectly fine. “And if we get to go home tonight, come back with us. I need you both close to me.”

“Of course.” Your own lips press against his perspiration-soaked shirt collar. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” You pull back ever-so-slightly, brushing tears from his cheeks. “He’s safe. He’s safe, and he’s here, and we get to keep spoiling and loving him.”

Eddie absorbs this as best as he can, mind still spinning as the adrenaline crash hits. There’s so much he wants to say, but for right now, he just carves out space in his body for yours. Your light whisper keeps him grounded, pulling hi away from the spiraling that usually overtakes him in times of crisis.

“I’ve got you.”

--

[flemingsfreckles]

Better Boyfriend than Him (18+) pt. 5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the 4 previous parts here

Warnings: SMUT (18+) frat boy Jessie vibes, oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), masturbation, sexting but not really

WC: 5.6k (she’s a little long)

A/N: I got a little carried away and this one ended up a little long.

Jessie 🦖: feel free to dream about me tonight when you go to sleep

Jessie 🦖: or when you’re touching yourself, I don’t mind ;)

Those texts started back at you as you looked at your phone. You couldn’t help but follow both of her texts, about thinking about her while you touched yourself and while you dreamed. You got home and almost immediately moved into your bedroom.

For a second, you debate taking a photo to send to Jessie, show her what she was missing by claiming she doesn’t fuck on the first date. You weren’t sure if that was too forward now that the mood seemed to shift from just sex to something more between the two of you. You decide to meet your idea halfway. You take your phone, open the camera and slide your right hand under your panties, just cupping your hand around yourself, not trying to get yourself off yet.

You snap a photo, before pulling back your phone to admire it. It just showed your bare stomach, starting at just above your belly button showing your hand creeping into your underwear, your legs spread. It’s telling enough without showing her anything too explicit. Without thinking too much about it you put it in a message to Jessie and hit send.

You: glad you don’t mind ;)

Jessie 🦖: holy shit

Jessie 🦖: I should’ve gone against my rule of not fucking on the first date

Jessie 🦖: maybe I can change my dating rules and fuck on the second date

Jessie 🦖: I don’t even date I don’t know why I have “rules”

The last text makes you laugh to yourself. Satisfied with her reaction, you get back to what you were doing. You hook your thumbs into your panties and slide them off your legs. Your hand returns between your legs, you slowly slide a finger between your folds, feeling how wet you had become at the thought of Jessie. She didn’t take much to get you worked up.

A couple minutes and a lot of thoughts about Jessie later, your orgasm takes over, lasting a few seconds, a whisper of Jessie’s name coming from your mouth. Sure, an orgasm was an orgasm but doing it yourself wasn't nearly as satisfying as letting Jessie do it.

Having followed one of her two instructions to think about her, you figured you may as well follow her second text and fall asleep thinking of her. Getting up you move to the bathroom, washing your hands before getting ready for bed.

Before you climb into bed you send her a quick goodnight text, you don’t get an immediate response and assume she has already fallen asleep. When you lay your head down on the pillow, thoughts of Jessie fill your mind. You wished she was next to you, her arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. Instead of listening to your fan, you wish it was the sound of her breathing putting you to sleep.

The next morning you’re woken up by a call from Jessie.

“Hi.” You’re half asleep when you answer the phone, voice still full of sleep. You clear your throat after hearing how your voice sounded.

“Hey, want coffee?” She sounded far too awake on a weekend, as if she had been up for hours already. It was Saturday so you both didn’t have any commitments to attend to. You glanced at the time, seeing it was still early part of you wanted to go back to sleep, fall back into your warm bed and into your dreams of Jessie. But seeing the girl in person would be even better, even if it meant dragging yourself out from the warmth of bed.

“You already know the answer to that.” You never turned down coffee.

“Okay. Can I pick you up in 20?”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date Fleming?”

“Maybe? Is that okay?” Her voice changes as she asks for confirmation.

“Yes, that’s perfect. I’ll see you in a bit.” Before you let her respond to you, you hang up and the line goes dead and you scramble out of bed throwing on a pair of jeans and pulling out a sweatshirt. It was cold out and you wanted to just throw on sweatpants and you would have on a regular trip to coffee with Jessie. Except now this was a date, you had to look nice.

You get distracted by brushing your teeth and hair, tidying up your room a bit. You end up forgetting to finish getting dressed. You had half a mind to make your bed, knowing there was a chance you’d be bringing back a guest later.

You hear, said expected guest, come through the door as you were still getting ready. Cursing yourself for not being ready you continue to rush around cleaning while yelling a greeting to her.

“Hi Jess!”

“Hi, can I come in?” You can hear her voice coming through your bedroom door. You open the door instead of answering. You’re only half dressed but you don’t care. Her eyes draw to your chest for a second where you had on a simple bra, nothing compared to the one you had worn the other day to tease her, she then looks up to your eyes. She realizes she was caught looking and just gives you a smile and greeting.

“Hi.”

You raise an eyebrow at her, “Are you saying hi to me or to my boobs?”

“Who says it can’t be both?” She argues your point. She’s wearing a red flannel over a plain sweatshirt and jeans. You half wish she had shown up in sweats and given you an excuse to also put them on but you also were pleased to see she was treating this as a date.

You grab your shirt and finish pulling it over your head and down your torso. “Considering someone doesn’t fuck on the first date, I don’t think you have the right to say hi to them.” You finish by throwing on your sweatshirt and walk past her out of your room and into the living room.

The two of you decide against walking to the coffee shop, usually you would if it wasn't too far but with the temperature and wind, you decided to hop in Jessie’s car and drive. A few minutes into the drive, Jessie’s hand comes across the center console, finding its place on your thigh. That’s new, you think to yourself but you don’t comment fearing you’ll scare her into moving her hand.

You walk into the coffee shop, it’s quiet, the majority of college students not yet awake at this hour on a Saturday. You both ordered your usual coffees, Jessie adding an extra shot of espresso to hers before offering to pay. It wasn’t uncommon for her to buy your coffee or for you to buy hers, you both traded off paying, it was easier than ordering separately. Knowing this was a date made watching her offer to pay feel different.

Watching Jessie as she sat across from you you could tell something was up with her. She wasn’t one to add extra caffeine into her coffee besides the standard, claiming anymore made her feel like she was vibrating. She usually wasn’t one to be up before 10 on the weekends. It was noticeable she was zoning out as well, staring off behind your head for periods of time before snapping back to focus on the two of you. She leaned back in her chair covering her mouth as she let out a big yawn.

“What's up with you today? Late night fucking your other girlfriend yesterday?” The sentence comes out more serious than you intended, your attempt at sarcasm completely missing.

“My other girlfriend? Are you claiming to be my first girlfriend?” She’s got one eyebrow raised at your sentence.

“Um. I didn't mean it like that,” You definitely didn't mean to call yourself her girlfriend, sure it had crossed your mind but now was not the time for that conversation. “I just meant that we’re dating.” That didn't help the point you were trying to make, you realize how much of a fool you were making of yourself. “Not that we're dating, like officially dating, but we’ve done on dates, well one date, besides today, this is two. I just meant, it was a joke.”

“Okayyy.” Jessie looks as if she's about to laugh. “Are you good?”

“Perfect, just we’re not girlfriends, I didn't mean for it to come off that way, I know we aren't anything officially.” If this was happening with anyone besides Jessie you would have ran out of the coffee shop by now and never shown your face again.

“We could be?” The words come out of Jessie’s mouth as both a question and a statement. For a second you think you must have heard her wrong. There’s no way miss ‘i dont date’ was already willing to commit to the girlfriend label after one official date.

“What?”

“Yeah that's actually what kept me up last night. It was you, not my other girlfriend.” she kicks you softly under the table. “I was just thinking. Thinking about you, well us.” She pauses, taking a sip of coffee, you can tell she has more to say. Staying silent you just watch her, giving her the space to talk.

“I’m going to need help though, I still really don't know what I’m doing as far as dating. I can't promise that I’ll be perfect, but I couldn't stop thinking about you last night and I haven't had that happen in years. And I’m still scared, not of you, just of how badly she messed me up, and I know you're not her, but I think I’m ready to try again.”

You knew what Jessie meant, bringing up her ex girlfriend and how she had messed her up. For the first few months of your friendship you never heard much about the girl, Lauren. Jessie would occasionally reference her ex, but never giving much detail. She finally spilled all of the details to you on the couch after a long night of drinking. Jessie told you all about the girl, how she was her first everything. First proper date, first kiss, first relationship, first sexual experience, first person she brought home to meet her parents, first and only person she had said I love you to, first person she pictured a future with, and ultimately her first heartbreak.

Lauren was older by a year and when she went off to college, they agreed to do long distance. It lasted for a couple months, going well, facetime calls and texts keeping the couple in touch and happily in a relationship. Or at least that's what Jessie thought until she took a surprise visit to see her then girlfriend. Jessie told you how Lauren had not seemed super excited to see her but she was still young and naive and thought nothing of it. She noticed Lauren’s behavior was different but figured that's just what happens when you go to college and get a taste of adulthood. Jessie only learned the truth when the two found themselves in bed later that day and Jessie removed Lauren’s shirt to find her then girlfriend covered in hickeys. It quickly came to light that Lauren had been cheating on Jessie since quite literally the first day she arrived at school. Their relationship ended following a screaming match between the two, breaking Jessie’s heart and wrecking her ability to trust people and future partners.

When she went to college a year later, Jessie wanted nothing to do with relationships, only wanting to have the same “fun” her ex had behind her back for months. She started sleeping around, enjoying her no strings attached lifestyle for the first few years, until now.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect.” Reaching across the table you put her hand on hers. You didn't want her to think you had insanely high expectations for this relationship. “I expect you to be how you already are, that's why I like you in the first place, because of how you are already, you don't need to change anything just because we change this from friendship to relationship. Except maybe more kissing than when we were just friends.”

“Okay.”

“So are you and I-”

“Does that me we-”

You both start your sentences only to fall silent once the other starts talking. You just sit and look at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

“Go ahead.” Jessie gestures toward you.

“So are you and I, like, dating then? Are we girlfriends?” This felt like the least romantic way you could be asking her to be your girlfriend but you weren’t sure Jessie would be interested in some form of big gesture to ask her.

“That’s what I was going to ask.” Part of you is relieved hearing she was on the same page. She didn’t date, you didn’t want to make her feel pressured.

“Is two dates too soon? I mean for someone who doesn’t date, that seems fast.”

“I don’t know, is it too fast?” Jessie gives you a shrug when she asks.

“I don’t know. It’s confusing. Because I already know you so well, so it feels different.” It was true you didn’t have to do all the pleasantries like you normally would on the first few dates. You didn’t have to ask if she had siblings, where she grew up, what major she was, what her favorite food was. All those details were already ingrained in your brain and that was nice but it was throwing off the usual dating timeline.

“I mean you said we could just do this how we want to, trial and error and all.”

“I’m gonna let you take the lead, if you want to make this formal, say we’re dating, that we’re a couple, I’m comfortable with that. But I’m also comfortable if you’re not ready for that, that’s okay, we can just keep doing what we’re doing.”

Jessie takes a second to ponder your options. Her hands spin her empty coffee cup around, she’s looking down at it. It’s as if she zones out for a minute, her eyes not blinking as she stares down. After what feels like an hour to you, she gives her head a shake and blinks a couple of times before looking up at you from across the table.

“I’m ready to make it formal.” She gives a soft nod with her response.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You both sit, grinning at each other from across the table. You’re filled with a warm, glowing feeling looking at her. Someone who was just your best friend a few weeks ago had suddenly become so much more than that, it was perfect.

You finish up for coffee, putting out your hand to take Jessie’s empty from her. You throw out your empty cups and return to the table.

“Do you want to come over for the rest of the day?” It’s silly to ask, Jessie probably already assumed she’d be coming over like she usually did but you felt the need to ask her anyway.

With a nod and a quiet “yes” Jessie stands up, grabbing her keys from the table and follows you out of the coffee shop and to her car. Almost immediately after sitting down in the car, Jessie’s hand is back on your thigh, this time it sits more on the inside and higher up. Her hand on the ride to coffee had sat in a more appropriate location, more of a reassuring touch. Now her hand gripped your thigh in a more possessive, bordering sexual manner. You could feel her fingers flex and tighten on you as she drove.

When you got home you told Jessie you were going to change, not wanting to be in jeans all day. You throw on some soft shorts, made out of an old pair of sweatpants that you had cut. They weren’t the most flattering for your figure but they were comfortable. When you emerge from your bedroom Jessie is on the couch. She looks up at you, giving you a glance head to toe and a quick smile. You move over to the couch, picking up a book on the way over.

You sat in a comfortable silence with Jessie on the couch, your calves and feet placed comfortably in her lap. She sat on her phone, probably playing some mind numbing game, while you read. It wasn’t anything special but having the peaceful morning with her was the best start to a weekend you had had in a while.

With a sigh Jessie put down her phone, her hands coming to rest on your shins instead. Peering over the book you look at her, confused if the sigh she gave was one of content or unrest. She looked relaxed, looking forward out the window, a small smile on her face, so you went back to reading. You were only able to focus for a couple more paragraphs before you felt her hands start to move.

Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of how easily she could affect you, you kept your eyes down at the text in front of you. You weren’t able to actually focus on the words but you could pretend for a bit. Jessie’s hands crept up, making it past your knees and onto your thighs. She was having to lean over slightly in your direction to keep moving her hand upward.

She shifts again, taking away one hand and leaving the one closest to you, her movement allowing her to have even further reach, dipping between your shorts and your skin.

“Jessie,” you say as her hand creeps up your thigh even higher, her fingers finding where the edge of your underwear sat in the crease of your thigh and hip.

“What?” She gives you a smile playing dumb.

“You know what, don’t play dumb with me, I know you’re trying to tease me, so just do it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” As she says it she lets her hand slide into the inner most part of your thigh, her pinky moves out to slide across your core with feather light pressure you barely even notice her movement.

“Your girlfriend is asking you to fuck her, are you going to do something or not?”

Uncharacteristically, Jessie’s face turns bright red at your comment. Her hand freezes against you.

“Um, yeah, right.” You notice an uncertainty in her voice, her eyes no longer meet yours, she looks off behind your head to the wall.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah just, girlfriend, isn't something I’m used to hearing.”

“If you’re having second thoughts about this, we really can wait on labeling it Jessie. I don't mind waiting. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s just new for us. Not bad, just different. I haven’t heard that word used since… Lauren.” Jessie lets her name fall from her lips as if it’s poisoned, she says it quickly and quietly.

You cringe slightly at the mention of her ex, not really an ideal thing to be brought up when she’s got her hand touching your pussy through your panties.

Jessie must have noticed your reaction to the mention of Lauren. “Sorry I don’t mean to keep bringing her up, it’s just the only comparison I have.”

“No I know, it’s okay, I understand, just I don’t want to necessarily hear about another girl you’ve fucked while your hand is between my legs.”

“I’m sorry, let me make it up to you?” As she says the words she moves her head, letting her lips meet your neck, placing open mouth kisses down from just behind your ear to where your neck meets your shoulder. Your mouth falls open at the feeling of hers on your neck, a breathy sigh leaving your body.

Jessie stands up from the couch, pulling you to stand with her. She turns to face you and picks you up, her hands roughly gripping the back of your thighs as she moves the two of you to your bedroom. She places you softly on the bed, climbing to place herself above you.

She’s hovering close, holding herself up on her forearms so her face is just inches from yours. She hovers above you for just a second before sitting back and moving her hands to your shirt.

“Off?” You loved that even though it was very clear you wanted her, Jessie still took the time to check with you before she would undress you or do anything to your body.

You sit up, throwing your arms up above your head to let Jessie know you wanted your top off. You get your arms out of the shirt and while Jessie pulls it over your head, your own hand moves to your back finding your bra clasp and releasing it. You slide the straps down your arms. Jessie’s hand comes up, resting the valet of your breasts and she gives you a push, making you lay back down. She moves her hand to cup your chest, her thumb and index finger making their way to your nipple, giving it a soft touch before a firm pinch. Her other hand moves to support her body and she moves back to being face to face with you, she just looks at you, a cocky smile on her face.

“Kiss me!” Sick of her teasing you decide to just tell her what you want. She obliges, bringing her lips to yours in a searing kiss. It doesn’t take long for her tongue to brush against your lips. You feel her grind her hips against yours, causing a moan to find its way out between kisses.

Wanting to take a bit of control for once, you gently bite on Jessie’s bottom lip, pulling away from the kiss, her lip still between your teeth. You give it a firmer bite before releasing it, letting it pop back against her teeth. Her fingers pinch your nipple harder out of reaction to your bite.

You open your eyes to see her surprised reaction.

“That was hot.” Her eyes are wide as she stares down at you, her own teeth now biting her bottom lip.

“Just giving you a taste of your own medicine.” You try to give her your best innocent look, as if you didn’t know you were turning her on.

She switches her hands, giving your other nipple the same treatment. Feeling a loss from her hand, you bring your own hand up to your chest, mimicking her actions on the nipple she had abandoned.

“No.” Jessie is quick to grab your wrist, pinning it to the pillow above your head. “You don’t get to touch right now, let me please you.” She moves down so her lips brush your ear. “You can show me how you touch yourself another time.” That sends a wave of heat through your body, the thought of showing Jessie how you had touched yourself all the times you thought of her. You get lost in the thought of that fantasy for a minute before you’re brought back to reality with Jessie’s mouth closing around your right nipple, her hand still playing with your left. She stays focused on your chest, biting, squeezing, kissing, sucking until you’re practically thrusting up at her with your hips, desperate for contact. You knew when she took off your shorts there would be a noticeable wetness in your underwear, you could feel it dripping from where you needed Jessie the most.

“Someone’s getting impatient.” Jessie laughs to herself, you give her a scowl, but she gives in, her hands finding where your shorts sat on your hips and she hooks her fingers in the waistband, looking up at you for consent. You lift your hips, nonverbally telling her to take them off. Much to your disappointment she only starts to remove your shorts. She has them just at your knees when you figure you may as well ask.

“Take it all off please.”

“Wow, really impatient aren’t we?”

“Yes, I need you Jessie.”

You hear a soft mutter of “fuck” leave Jessie mouth, you’re not entirely sure she meant to say it, more that it was the reaction to you using her name. You’re not sure she’s going to give in, her hand stalling where they held your shorts. She starts moving again, finishing pulling off your shorts. Before you can protest that she left your panties, the thumbs are in the waistband of them, pulling them down quickly.

Once she finishes removing your underwear she sits back. Her hands find your inner thighs and she spreads your legs, leaving you fully exposed under her gaze. As if she hadn’t just exposed your dripping pussy, she looks away from where you desperately needed her. Jessie’s hands come up to hold you right above your waist. Her thumbs caress the skin where they sat, rubbing back and forth. Her gaze is all over your body, looking at every inch of your exposed skin.

“You look so pretty like this.” You feel a blush start at your cheeks and move down your chest as she studies your naked body. She’d seen you like this before, but it felt like the first time she was really looking at you, seeing you. There was a different admiration in her eyes, mixed with the lust you had come to know. “All mine.”

“Only yours.” You tell her when her eyes make their way up from your navel to your chest and to meet your own gaze.

Jessie pulls her hand from your waist, letting her fingers trail a path down to the apex of your legs. Despite your legs already being open, you spread them further, encouraging Jessie to touch you.

“Fuck, baby.” The noise comes out deep and raspy from her mouth as Jessie’s fingers finally feel between your legs where your arousal had pooled. Jessie then looks at you, her fingers stalling their movements, her voice returning to her regular voice, not the same husky voice form before. “Is baby okay? We didn’t really talk about that.”

“Yeah, I like it.” You did, you liked it when she called you her’s a second ago and you liked the pet names.

Jessie fingers get back to their movements. She moves two fingers down to your entrance, gathering some of your slick and pulling it upward before she starts circling your clit. Her touch has you throwing back your head against the pillow.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Jessie hums in your ear and her fingers continue to tease your clit, circling around it and down to your opening.

“All because of you babe.” You groan back in her ear. It was true, you were never this wet when you touched yourself, or when anyone else had ever touched you, you were only like this with her, because of her.

Each time she would move her fingers toward your entrance she’d dip into you, just barley letting her fingers inside before she’d pull back and move up to where you were most sensitive.

Getting impatient again, when her hand makes the move back down to your entrance you try grabbing her hand, trying to push her fingers further inside of you.

“What are you doing?” Jessie stalls her hand, she was stronger than you and as much as you were trying, you weren’t able to overpower her and her fingers remained just outside.

“You’re taking too long.”

“You could’ve just said something.” You rolled your eyes at her, you knew she was joking, you hadn’t explicitly said you wanted her fingers in you but you figured the displeased moans every time she pulled back and the bucking of your hips when she’d get close was enough to give the hint.

You go to make a smart comment back but as you open your mouth, two of Jessie’s fingers slide into you, she pushes in until her fingers are fully inside. Instead of a sentence, a loud moan comes out.

“Is that what you wanted?” Jessie moves so that she’s laying between your legs now, her cheek resting on the inside of your thigh, her eyes look between where her fingers were buried in your pussy and where your mouth was hung open, your eyes closed in pleasure.

“Mmhm.” The murmur is all you’re able to get out, overwhelmed from the sudden sensation of her fingers opening you.

Jessie begins to move her fingers the same methodical curling she had done to you before. Already worked up from the teasing you knew it wouldn’t be long before you were clenching on her fingers. You have your eyes closed, focusing on the feeling of her fingers, both trying not to cum too quickly but also wanting to let the feeling fully take over your body.

With your eyes closed you don’t see Jessie moving to place her mouth on your clit, you only feel it once her tongue is lapping against you. Instinctively your hand moves to her head, gripping her hair as you sit up slightly to look at her. Her eyes are closed, as if she’s fully concentrating on making you feel good. The sight of her so focused between your legs makes your stomach clench and you feel yourself tighten on her fingers.

“Jessie, please.”

She hums in response against your pussy, that’s all you need as you feel your legs tense and your grip in her hair tightening.

“Fuck babe.” You groan as you cum on her fingers and lips. Her fingers continue pumping inside of you, working you through your orgasm until your own fingers come to push on her wrist silently telling her you were done. She slowly pulls her fingers from you, you watch as a string on your arousal connects them to you for a second before it breaks. Looking at you then to her fingers Jessie spreads them slightly, you can see the wetness that connect her fingers. She makes sure you’re watching as she brings her fingers to her lips, sucking them slowly between her lips.

It’s an erotic sight, your newly named girlfriend, sucking off her own fingers that were covered in your orgasm. It stirred something deep inside of you. You wanted to fuck Jessie, you wanted to return the favor, you wanted to be sucking her arousal off your fingers, but you weren’t sure how.

You weren’t sure how to ask, and even if you found the courage to ask, you weren’t sure what to do. You had always thought about sleeping with a girl, girls were hot, you were attracted to women, you just had never gotten around to acting on it, the fear of being considered a “virgin” as far as sleeping with women had kept you from trying any casual hookups. But now you were dating Jessie, that was different than a casual hookup.

While you were too busy hyper fixated on your lack of sexual experience with women, Jessie had made her way up to lay next to you. She was watching your face and you were staring off to the wall.

She placed a kiss to your forehead. You could smell the strong smell of yourself still on her face. She pulled back looking down at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you thinking about?” Here it was the perfect time to bring it up, she was asking, there was no pressure, no expectations.

“Nothing.” That was the easy route, not telling her, letting your concerns and fears stay in the back of your mind. You could fake like you knew what you were doing.

“Seriously? You weren’t allowed to lie to me when we were just friends, we’re dating now so you’re really not allowed to lie to me.” She knew you too well, knew when you were lying, she knew when you were overthinking.

“Are you ever going to want me to touch you?” For the second time today your words come out not in the way you wanted. You meant to ask differently, in a way that was less accusatory, less hostile.

“Oh.” Jessie looks like she regrets pushing on the lie before. “I, yes, I just, I haven’t let anyone touch me besides…” you get the hint that she was referring to Lauren as she lets her sentence trail off.

“Oh.” You don’t mean for it to come off negatively, that was just your initial reaction.

“Yeah, and then after her I just, I didn’t want to trust anyone with my body like that again, I was, I’m worried about giving that vulnerability to someone just for them to ruin me again, to betray my trust.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” It’s all you can think to say. You now felt like a dick for wanting to see her naked. While you were too caught up in never having been on the giving side of sapphic sex, here was your girlfriend with more real, genuine concerns.

“It’s okay, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it, I just couldn’t bring myself to. It’s embarrassing.” Her eyes move from your face to the blanket covering the both of you.

You reach a hand out to her cheek. “It’s not embarrassing babe.” You place a kiss on her nose. “We can do this at whatever pace you want, you just tell me.”

“Okay.” Jessie gives you a halfhearted smile.

“I’m going to go shower, is that okay?” You start to move from the bed, still completely naked. You’re about to move into the bathroom when you hear Jessie speak up from behind you.

“Can I join you?”

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 9

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

Inumaki's POV:

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours now, and I don’t understand why I can’t sleep. I mean, I’ve always had issues with sleeping—insomnia’s been my constant companion for as long as I can remember—but I thought it was getting better. This past week, for the first time in years, I actually slept well. It was odd, sure, but I wasn’t complaining.

But tonight? Tonight, it’s back to the old ways.

Back to no sleep.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I glanced over at the clock.

4 a.m.

Great.

Should I even bother going to school later? Maybe I should just skip. But then… I wouldn’t see y/n.

Fuck.

The thought of not seeing her tomorrow... or today, technically... made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to think too much about. I let out another frustrated sigh and turned my head to look at my phone on the nightstand. For a moment, I just stared at it, my mind running through all the reasons why texting her at this hour would be a terrible idea.

She’s probably asleep. You’ll wake her up. She’ll think you’re being annoying. Just leave her alone.

But then again… what if she’s awake too? What if she’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her right now?

Before I could overthink it anymore, I grabbed my phone, my thumb hesitating over the keyboard. I typed out a message and stared at it for a second, debating whether or not to hit send.

This is stupid. She’s not awake. You’ll look like an idiot.

But my thumb pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

Hey… you up?

I tossed my phone on the bed beside me and ran a hand over my face, already regretting it. But now all I could do was wait.

Honestly, I was kind of hoping she would respond. It’s not like I can sleep, so maybe talking to her would help. But at the same time… I kind of hope she doesn’t even see my message. Because… what if I’m being too much?

What if she sees it, rolls her eyes, and thinks I’m just some guy who can’t get a grip? Someone who’s bothering her at 4 a.m. for no reason?

I sighed, staring at the faint glow of my phone screen as it sat on the bed next to me. What was I expecting? That she’d magically be awake, texting back right away? And if she did… what would I even say?

Hey, I can’t stop thinking about you?

Yeah, right. That would go over well.

I shook my head, feeling the frustration bubble up in my chest. Why was she in my head so much? Why couldn’t I just… let it go? Ignore it? Pretend I wasn’t thinking about the way she looked at me earlier, or the way her voice shook just a little when she was mad?

I groaned softly, rolling over onto my side and staring at the phone again. One minute passed. Then another. The screen stayed dark, and the silence stretched on. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was better if she didn’t answer.

Because if she did… I wasn’t sure what I’d say next. Or worse, what I’d admit.

But then, to my surprise, my phone buzzed.

I blinked, staring at it for a moment as if I’d imagined the notification. The screen lit up, her name glowing back at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I hesitated before picking it up, as if seeing her response would somehow make this real.

WARNING: SMUT (18+ ONLY) & HEAVY FLIRTING/TEASING

A/N

things are getting veryyy spicy now 👀

hope you enjoyed this little tease

im so sorry this took so look... it was very unexpected ive just been extremely busy and honestly haven't had the energy to write much

yes this is very short butttt i kinda just want some of yalls opinion on this... like would you actually wanna read the smut (next part)

ik its late ASF BUT ENJOY IT PLEASE OR ELSE ILL CRY FR

TAG LIST <3

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf @unofficialsapphire @miowxh @hansl0ver @miowxh

[pedgito]

summary | a story of how things began, where they ended up, and where they might go. a collection of patrols over the course of several months is forcing you closer to joel than you ever imagined, tense circumstances leading to hasty decisions and one bad choice after the next. [17k+]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no explicit use of y/n, set post s1 (but not specifically stated), lots of characters from the game (but not significant if you're unaware) grumpy!joel, friends (?) with benefits, sex under stress as a means for distraction (consensual), graphic depicition of an attack of raiders (it's brief, easy to skim over), a litany of sexual escapades (oral, unprotected, ect) semi-public sex (no one's around), orgasm denial, repressed emotions

author’s note | um, yeah. i had this idea back in february and had an outline that finally came to fruition over the past month. this was a serious labor of love and purely self-indulgence. if you make it through the entire thing, thank you! if this has typos please ignore. i proofread this like 4 times and i will cry

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

Patrolling with Joel was always something. Miserable when Joel was having a bad day, mildly enjoyable on the days where he managed to have enough coffee that morning when you weren't on the rotation for the shitty patrols that took hours to trek through in this weather, the snow halfway up your shins nearly everywhere.

It’s been a few months now and Joel is still who you favor going with over anyone else—he’s thoughtful, methodical, always watching over his shoulder for danger. And Joel does warm up to you eventually, but the reluctance in his eyes is always there. He’s seasoned in the art of surviving, avoiding connection when at all possible. He doesn’t talk to you for the first month out of simple answers or orders, helping you get accustomed to a route you haven’t run before, but small talk? It’s nonexistent.

Maybe that was for the best. 

Because the first time you find yourself pinned under his gaze, fingers clenched around your wrists in warning, the unseemly thoughts invade your brain.

He doesn’t sleep often during patrols, either. So, it’s a little intimidating when you find him curled up on top of his sleeping bag when he swore he was taking a quick break, resting the ache in his back that quickly melted into a deep slumber. You can’t dare to wake him up so soon after, seeing how peaceful he looked when he slept, almost at ease but still carrying that deep scowl, permanently on his features. It was a part of him.

Tommy and Jesse had arrived to rotate and relieve you guys back to Jackson, something that wasn’t out of the norm, but you find yourself battling with leaning over him, shaking him awake and disturbing his slumber. And on a dime, the moment your hand connects with his shoulder, Joel is awake—very awake and subduing you with little resistance, your leg forced hastily between his own, eyes dark and pensive from where he held himself above you.

“Joel, Joel—it’s just me,” You spit out in a panic, “Tommy and Jesse, they’re outside.”

You’re not sure what breaks his stupor, be it the panic in your voice or the terrified look on your face, he relents quickly, apologizing half-heartedly under his breath.

You release a tight breath when he finally lets go, rising up slowly as he does, grabbing your pack without a word, as does he, watching as he rolled up his sleeping bag, something you’ve seen him do a million times before, but he feels you watching him, almost hesitant to speak now.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks lowly, the thickness of sleep in his voice.

“No, um—“ You shake your head, rubbing the skin of your wrist absently, “I guess I should’ve been more careful, but you fell asleep and I figured you needed it.”

He looks even more apologetic, more so for his actions but for also leaving you up alone, not that it really mattered to you. It was an easy patrol spot in the watchtower— it never caused trouble, so falling asleep was the least of your worries. 

You shrug when his eyes glance over your slightly hunched frame, shivering from the cold but an arm clutching around your middle. It’s defensive, a subconscious movement that Joel doesn’t even think you realize you’re doing.

He shouldn’t feel shitty about it, but he does. Still, he won’t admit that out loud.

“Next time I’ll keep six feet and poke you with a stick,” You joke, “kinda like waking a bear.”

You smile when Joel huffs reluctantly, a subtle motion of his chest as he chuckles. It’s faint, but you see the involuntary quirk at the corner of his mouth as he shoved his sleeping bag into his pack and rose to his feet.

“Hey, you’ve still got decent reflexes,” You shrug, passing him by with the soft scuffle of your feet, shoulders rubbing against each other awkwardly as you turn toward him over your left shoulder, his body too close for his own comfort, “for an old guy.”

He scoffs at the implication, though any maliciousness in his expression is void, “Old?”

He knows it’s the truth, he just hates the implication. He’s weaker, but not any less that man he was than that he is now. He watches your face scrunch up in amusement, a soft laugh slipping past your lips. 

“Joel, I’m fucking with you,” You tell him, the tense in his brow relaxing slightly, “it’s gonna be a long ride back, isn’t it?”

“Ah, don’t know—think you can handle travelin’ with the old guy for a few hours?”

Joel doesn’t divert to humor often, but when he does, it’s a sweet sight, that rough exterior cracking under your gaze more often. 

“Please,” You puff your lips out in a quick huff, yanking your back over your shoulder, “I can handle you just fine.”

Once you got to know him, it was actually quite easy.

Joel nods his chin forward silently, ignoring your teasing for the time being, a long ride ahead of you and not nearly enough patience on his end to deal with your antics.

And you try to ignore how intensely his touch lingered on your skin, rubbing the tender spot on your wrist during the long ride back to Jackson. 

Joel keeps his distance behind you, but he sees it—the subtle look over your shoulder every now and then, your eyes lingering with him when he forces eye contact.

It’s only the start of what was to come, something neither of you were prepared for.

*

The rotation is adequately simple over the first few months, keeping the pairings fair by filtering them out evenly—Ellie is fun to be around, a lot more relaxed and less jaded by everything. She keeps things light, always bringing along her comics for extra entertainment or spending her time drawing you or whatever she could find, something to keep her busy when things get boring. And she talks, freely, to you—something Joel never did. Besides, Ellie kept up to date on the town drama, so in turn, so did you. 

And Tommy is, well, Tommy. He’s efficient, likes to do his rounds, sign the patrol sheet, scope the area, then spend the rest of the night or day relaxing away when things aren't going awry. He talks about before—his job, how people lived in Austin, the summer cookouts in the neighborhoods that you were never privy to. Tommy’s nice, you’ve always liked him. It was Joel who proved to be the difficult one, something Tommy would wholeheartedly agree with.

Eventually you find yourself paired up with Joel more often than you’re used to, now Ellie would stick to patrols with Dina when she could, occasionally Jesse. She always complains when she has to ride with Joel, something about:

“We live together, but we’re not attached at the fuckin’ hip.”

Joel doesn’t complain, his hesitancy toward letting Ellie take more responsibility waning by the day when he realizes how well she holds her own.

You take the patrol further west, a lodge that he and Tommy cleared out some months prior when you were still new—you’ve only ran into infected there once, end of the summer, but Joel cleared them out no problem. 

It seemed like an easy patrol. It was. Joel even seems a little more cheerful than usual, making comments to some of the information you were relaying to him that Ellie told you, some pointless gossip to fill the lull.

“It’s why I mind my business,” Joel speaks over the soft trollop as you ride alongside him, “nothin’ good comes from stickin’ your nose where you shouldn’t,” his head turns, eyes glancing over your frame briefly, shrugging his shoulders in an effort to loosen them, “it only breeds more problems.”

“I’m just the messenger,” You shrug, “I keep to myself—you know that.”

He does. He finds the shyness endearing in a way, a contrast from how exuberant Ellie could be when he spent patrols with her. It’s why things worked so well with you—you respected his space, he respected yours. 

“Remind me to check that guitar place for those strings Ellie’s been buggin’ about,” Joel tells you, “I’ll hit it before we leave.”

“She’s improved a lot,” You compliment, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “props to her teacher, I suppose.”

Joel shakes his head, emitting a bit of fondness every time he talks about Ellie, “That kid is determined. I don’t think she would’ve needed my help either way.”

“You know,” Your tone bleeds something teasing, putting Joel on edge as he tilts his head your way, looking expectantly, “she said you’re a pretty good singer.”

Joel opens his mouth for a beat before snapping it shut, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to sing,” You promise, “but—I don’t know, just didn’t pin you as the type.”

“I’ve got a type about me?” Joel seems dully interested, a soft smirk on his face as he yields the reins to a stop, leading you to follow suit as you both guide the horses to the makeshift stable tucked away on the side of the building, gathering your things before you make your way inside.

You leave Joel in a curious silence until you’re able to relax, closing the doors behind you with a heavy shove once Joel has done his quick walk-through, the fireplace setting unlit in the middle of the room looking all too appealing right now. 

“Look, I’ll just keep askin’,” Joel says, clapping his hands together deftly to grab your attention, throwing the lighter stuffed into your coat pocket at his waiting hands, cupped as he catches it with ease, setting up a fire that crackles to life instantly, “first I’m an old man, now you’re judgin’ me, doesn’t really seem fair now does it?”

It’s the most he’s talked to you before, suddenly invested in getting an answer out of you. It’s playful, his intention, and you can’t help but find it a little enjoyable to watch him squirm. You take a seat around the circular fire pit, feet propped up against the brick surrounding it, hands laying flat over you stomach, jacket unzipped but still snug on your body.

“You’re a big grump all the time,” You tell him honestly, his face morphing into something indecipherable, “—Ellie’s words, not mine.”

You hold a finger up, pointing in his direction.

“But, she’s not wrong.” It earns a subtle shrug, Joel’s arms stalling over the back of the couch that wrapped around the fire pit, a few feet away from you still. “I’m just saying, most of the people in town who enjoy that stuff—you know, music and all that. They’re loud about it, a little showboaty if you ask me.”

“What? I’m not loud enough for you?” 

He was loud when he needed to be. Directive and strong, aggressive to anyone who may cause him harm or anyone he cares about—you’ve seen it a few times, but never on the side of it being just you and him. Part of you is thankful for that, but you can’t help the wanted to feel that type of fierce protection aimed toward you.

You snort softly, “Forget it, Joel. It’s a nice surprise, I bet you have a great voice.” It’s free of any teasing or ill-intent of riling him up. A true compliment, one that cracks Joel’s surface, just barely.

Joel hits you softly in the chest with a bag of jerky a while later, chewing on a piece quietly as he rests, neck hung against the back of the couch, eyes closed. The heat creeps in slowly, forcing you to strip down a few layers—jacket first, then your sweater, down to just your jeans and shirt, wiggling your feet out of your snow boots in hopes that they’ll dry by the fire quicker. 

And truthfully, your bored out of your mind. It was hard to stay dormant like this, holed up in a place for an extended period of time with nothing to do but entertain yourself—and because Joel was about as entertaining as watching wet paint dry, you took the initiative into your own hands.

“Have you ever played pool?” Your voice slices through the thick silence, one of Joel’s eyes peeking open curiously, head still reclined back. “I’ve been dying to try this out since Tommy found those balls a few months ago.”

“It’s been years,” He mumbles lowly, tapping his fingers against the back of his right palm, “—what about you?”

“Not a chance, Joel,” You reply, voice oozing with a flippant vagrancy, “I was fifteen when the outbreak happened, I’ve never even stepped foot into a bar, let alone some place like this.”

Even now, twenty years into a world that had crumbled to the ground, the lodge still held up nice.

Normally you would expect Joel to make up some excuse, roll over on his side or lay down and pretend he was asleep or keep watch by the door, his demeanor never faltering for more than a second, clipped answers to your question. But, that was Joel wasn’t here now.

He’s warmed up to you, partially—but you could tell there was still a long way to go. He still keeps his distance, less of a chance to bump into your or accidentally brush shoulders. It makes you feel forlorn, like maybe you had scared him by how you reacted, eyes wide and terrified underneath him. 

Truthfully, Joel doesn’t want to scare you again. He couldn’t handle it. Not with how reluctantly fond he’s grown of you, something he kept close to his chest and didn’t dare tell a soul. He’s got his own justifications for it. 

“We can play a game,” Joel suggests, “it’ll kill some time, I guess.”

Joel didn’t need to know how easy it would be for you to play him under the table, having spent most of your time around the guys at the bar who like to hustle bets for pool. They never stood a chance. And Joel never frequented The Tipsy Bison outside of parties thrown for the community as a group (and that was still rare), always dragged along by Ellie or Tommy. They were insufferable to attend. 

You could share the sentiment. 

“Any bets?” You tease, stripping the pool cues off the wall and handing it to him as he approaches, strip down to a similar state as well, tanned skinned under a navy blue shirt, wearing the jeans he seemed to never take off and boots that were barely holding on. 

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Joel decides, “I’ve got nothin’ in mind anyways.”

“God, you’re no fun,” You pout, pulling an eye roll from Joel, his eyes flicking toward the ground briefly as he reconsidered, “come on—anything.”

“Jesus—uh, I don’t know,” He chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, “huh, how about the loser just owes the other a favor?”

You blow a raspberry with your tongue, “Lame,” You tease further, but his quick switch to defeat has his arm slumping at his side forcing you to reassess, “—fine, fine. A favor is fair, I’m running low on those anyways.”

It’s a small hint at your competitive nature, something Joel is clueless to pick up on, guiding you through the basics of the game with ease—you listen intently despite how badly you were going to destroy him, the stakes surprisingly high.

A favor. For anything. 

The small crack of a smile on Joel’s face is enough of a reward as he watches you attempt to break the set, barely tapping the center as it rolls back slowly, your face scrunching up in annoyance. 

“Oh, fuck you,” You scoff playfully, “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Joel shakes his head in a blatant attempt at lying, heaving his cue up to show you his stance, “Keep your dominant hand on the end and your other near the type, you’ve just gotta guide it through with some force.”

You feign innocence, switching the cue to your dominant side, though still looking visibly uncomfortable and rigid. 

Joel thinks it over in his hand, rehashing his decision making a million times over until he’s resting the pool cue aside and joining your side, hesitant as he brings his hands to your elbows from behind, keeping a careful distance.

“Keep your arm a little further back,” He pulls at your dominant arm, thick fingers wrapping around your bicep, his body leaned forward slightly to adjust the other when he can’t reach, spreading your fingers to wrap around the other end, tucking your thumb under the cue gently at wrapping your index over the top, “it’s almost like you’re holding a pencil, if that helps. Sort of.”

You nod slightly, his touch lingering lightly as he leaned over you, pointing toward the center of the table, “Just use that hand as a guide, don’t grip it too tight and let the cue follow through. Here, try it.”

He crowds you in slowly, aiding you in the force of your cue as he guides it back and through with a sharpness, hitting the ball dead center and the rest of them scattering as a result.

“Just like that.” He praises, a softness to him that wasn’t there before when speaks over your shoulder. You roll your shoulders insignificantly, nodding at his response.

He notes how unbothered you are this way, in this situation compared to the latter, his touch guiding and soft compared to rough, suffocating, the force he only used in situations where his opponent wasn’t going to make it out alive.

Joel parts without so much as a word, shifting into his typical stance, favoring his right leg as it bends slightly, using the cue for support as he leaned into it. “Got it?”

You nod silently, feeling warm all over, too warm. It’s your own fault, really—not a soul to blame but yourself. To be fair, you didn’t think Joel would bother to take the bait. But he did, almost too eagerly. It was enough to mentally knock you on your ass, leaving you to play the rest of the game with a cloudy mind filled with how warm his touch felt against your bare skin, craving a touch you haven’t felt in months. It’s pathetic, but you can’t help it. 

Joel sinks the last ball with finality, slapping his hand against the felt table in triumph, a surprising show of emotion for someone so sullen as him. He was full of surprises you were quickly finding out.

“M’sorry, darlin’.” He tells you, sounding authentically apologetic, “I don’t expect you to owe me any favors.”

“Screw that,” You shake your head stubbornly, annoyed at how easily you let him get the better of you, “one more.”

“I’m not sure if that’s—“

“One. More.” You tell him adamantly, reracking the balls without an answer, nodding pointedly toward the table, “Pick a pocket.”

Joel’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion, “You want to play one-pocket? How the hell do you even know about—I thought you said you’ve never played.”

“Joel, pick a damn pocket.” 

You don’t choke this time, letting him take the first hit, watch the ball sink, and the next one he misses. 

You don’t miss, one turn after the other passing him up as you sink them in succession.

He stares at you with wide eyes, nose flared like he’s going to laugh, mouth spread into a subtle smile, his teeth peeking through.

“You’re a fuckin’ pool shark, aren’t you?” Joel questions, tossing the pool cue aside. “That was goddamn impressive, I’ll give you that.”

“How do you think I score the steak sandwiches for our routes over the tuna and cheese?” You ask redundantly, “I’ve played Tommy under the table enough times that he won’t even play for fun anymore.”

“Well,” Joel shrugs, “guess we both owe each other favors, don’t we?”

You could care less about the favors now, battling with the conflicting feelings as you stared at the man ahead of you, seeming like a completely different person to you now. He's acting nothing like the sulky man you walk by every day in Jackson.

“Shit—one more,” Joel insists, “no holdin’ back on each other. No bets, just braggin’ rights.”

Joel never hears the end of it that night, falling asleep to the faint giggle of victory.

Another few weeks later and things are even more different. 

You spot Joel from a mile away, tucked against the corner of the bar with wistful eyes downturned toward his drink, the ice in the glass swashing alongside the dark whiskey. The squeal of a couple kids and their scattering feet as they ram into you and pull your attention away, guiding them away to safety and out of the crowd with a gentle hand, a pair of apologetic parents waiting off to the side.

He must’ve seen the interaction halfway through, smirking with amusement as you approach, though still eerily silent. 

Your friendship since the pool game has blossomed slowly, he jokes with you more often, shares his food when he hears your stomach growl, no matter how much you refuse. He even talks about his hobbies, things he enjoys, and it feels like he’s less of an enigma now. Real, tangible, someone you can make a connection with.

He still keeps his distance, mostly—the pool game was a fluke, a split second decision he hadn’t thought through and fully regretted after the fact. He’s gone from tackling you to the ground in fear to feeling you up for a good shot and that just doesn’t sit right with him, but he never apologizes. He can’t find it in him to embarrass himself further, figuring that by getting his ass kicked at pool was already punishment enough.

But, it doesn’t help that he always finds himself in situations that end up with him closer than he intended—he can’t tell if you’re being intentional about it anymore, but tonight, it’s all you.

“Damn, who dragged you out of the house?” You ask, a huff of a laugh muffled by the glass that tips to his lips, your fingers drumming silently against the bar as you asked for a beer, smiling at a familiar face. “Wait, let me guess—Ellie?”

Joel shakes his head honestly.

“Shit—Tommy?”

“No.”

“Maria forced Tommy to force you to show up?” Joel actually has a laugh at that, the idea not that far-fetched, but it’s another wrong answer.

“Joel Miller—“ Your finger wags in his face, landing on the center of his chest as you sip from your own drink with your opposite hand, “did you actually wander out of your house on your own free will?”

Guilty as charged. Joel would never make decisions like this, but he knew you would be there—and goddamnit, he couldn’t help it. He’s dressed incredibly suave too, a clean, slick dress shirt that works well on him, a nice change from his usual thick coats and plaid button ups. 

“Hey, brother,” Tommy claps a hand down on Joel’s shoulder warmly, flashing you his trademark grin, teeth and all, “ma’am.”

You grimace at the word, “God, Tommy—you gotta stop calling me that.”

“Sorry, habit.” He chuckles before glancing over at Joel briefly, eyes connecting with yours in question, “So, what are we thinkin’—hell finally freeze over?”

“Seems that way.” 

You play along, teasing Joel with no reluctance, enjoying the pinched look on his face as he downs the whiskey.

“Well, sorry Joel, but I came to steal her away for a dance,” He informs Joel, jabbing his thumb in your direction, “it is tradition, after all.”

Joel didn’t know that, of course. How could he?

Tommy always takes a minute or two to dance with you, one of his favorite songs being played by the band of townspeople—Maria doesn’t enjoy dancing as much either, spending most of her time mingling and helping out where it was needed, it’s an easy compromise. 

It’s an upbeat song, something country that you can’t be bothered to memorize the words of, but it’s all big twists and twirls, dancing with little precision and more for pure enjoyment than anything else.

Joel tries not to stare, he does. But, it’s nearly impossible. It starts at your face, lingering as he savored that huge smile plastered across it, arm flying above your head as Tommy spun you, squealing in joy. Eventually it travels elsewhere, lower and lower, until Joel can’t help but keep his gaze stuck on the curve of your jeans, the way the denim cups your ass perfectly. 

And it feels wrong, almost demeaning, but you don’t seem to have a care in the world, turning on your heels and to Joel suddenly, who’s already straightened up by then and shoving his glass away, poised to make his excuse to leave until you’re bounding toward him, hand outstretched as Tommy watches from the side, hands settled on his hips. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

“Come on, Joel.” You try to persuade, using a grabby motion with your hands as you approach him closer, bordering on shoving yourself between the bar top and his legs, “Just one dance.”

“Darlin’ I don’t—“ His refusal is imminent, obvious in your eyes. But, you’ve got a trick up your sleeve that he’d never hear the end of if he denied you. 

“My favor,” You play your cards, “I’m cashing’ in.”

You cock your head to the side, awaiting his answer with a pointed look, satisfied smile creeping onto your face as he sighs, letting you take his hand in reluctance as you pull him to your feet.

Joel’s at least thankful the tempo of the song is slower, but that leads to a minacious closeness he wasn’t prepared for, your delicate set of fingers resting over his shoulder, the other slack in his hand. He settles one against your waist, touching cautiously light and his other hand enveloping your own.

“This is a waste of a favor, you know.” Joel comments off-handedly, his eyes dragging toward the floor as he swayed to the gentleness of the music, dancing with an ease that still stuck with him, even after all these years.

“I don’t think so,” You shrug, “I get a dance, you’re no longer in debt to me, seems like a win win.”

Joel shakes his head with a fondness, eyes flicking up toward you briefly as he bows his head, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he seems to relax, realizing that the only eyes on him were you now, Tommy having gone off to search for Maria.

“All these other guys and you want to dance with the old man,” Joel starts, “how’d you come to that decision?”

“You’re never letting that go,” You roll your eyes half-heartedly, pulling him in closer on a whim, trading your current position for one where your arms rest of his shoulders, fingers interlocking behind his neck loosely, his own hands adjusting against your hip more casually, fingers dancing over the sliver of bare skin from where your shirt had started to rise, “can I tell you a secret, Joel?”

“It’s not a secret if you tell me,” He counters slyly, “besides, I’m terrible at keeping ‘em.”

And blame it on the lingering remnants of his second whiskey, but you can feel his fingers drag against your skin, finding home under the fabric of your shirt, his expression never changing—but it feels like a test, like he’s waiting for you to have a reaction. There’s not a word traded during the subtle interaction, ignoring his actions as you spoke.

“I’d choose you over any of those guys,” You say, a rawness that bleeds truth, Joel doesn’t have to second guess you, he sees it, “and Seth is way older than you and a prick, give yourself some fuckin’ credit, Joel.”

Joel settles quietly, shaking his head at your soft outburst. It shouldn’t surprise him, your shared devotion having grown over the past few weeks, small moments that made Joel second guess everything he’s taught himself to be.

Distant, hard, cold. But with you, it just wasn’t possible anymore. At least, not lately. 

“And,” You sing, wiggling excitedly under his grip, “I may have saved your ass for patrol tomorrow.”

Joel looks at you expectantly, pulling you in closer when a quick pass of two rowdy kids has you stumbling forward. 

You laugh at the sudden change in motion, hands slapping against his chest to keep you steady. He doesn’t try and move you away, which is surprising. But, you don’t try to move either, enjoying the slow guide of your chest against his as you sway to the music.

“Tommy’s takin’ coverage with Eugene,” You tell him, “I know how much you hate patrolling with him.”

Joel huffs out a laugh, “I don’t hate him, he’s just—“

“Talkative? A little too cheery for you?” You ask, leaning your head back an inch to examine his face fully, “Damn, I guess I’m not much of an improvement, either.”

“Now, I didn’t say that.” Joel responds defensively, though his face is still relaxed.

“Then?” You tease.

“Let me ask you,” Joel switches things around, “You’d rather patrol with Tommy over me?”

You shrug before thinking about it for a moment, actually thinking—and no, you wouldn’t. “No, guess not.”

“Why?” He questions, putting you on the spot.

“You’re prettier to look at,” You say with a nonchalance, “and Tommy really likes to reminisce, like…a lot.”

Joel snorts a quiet laugh at that.

“So, you see my issue with Eugene then.” Joel brings the conversation to a head, watching as a smirk appears on your face, realizing his mistake in real time.

“Hold on— that’s why you enjoy our patrols so much?” You turn your head into your shoulder to hide your laugh, quickly gathering yourself to tease him further, “Because, I’m prettier to look at and I keep my mouth shut?”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, ignoring your question. “You do realize where we’re going tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Of course, we’re stationed out at the dam.” You respond casually, “It’s not that bad, Joel.”

It’s the one place you and Joel haven’t had the opportunity to patrol together, always paired up with someone else—it’s a cramped spot, loud, and uncomfortably cold at this time of year no matter how many fires you set. Plus, it’s a lot of leg work to check the dam, making sure it’s still in good working condition. It’s what powered Jackson, without it, you wouldn’t be dancing with Joel right now, let alone even allowed the luxury of having a weekend to unwind and enjoy the party. 

Joel looks hesitant.

“What?” You pry, “Don’t like the idea of being stuck in a tiny room with me for that long, one bed, nowhere to sulk off into a corner?”

If anyone else had approached him like this, it would’ve ended in a broken jaw—his own internalized anger getting the best of him. But, it’s you. And he knows you’re right. 

You squeeze in closer, leaving barely any room between you now that the center of the hall was filled with other dancing bodies, shifting Joel’s hands down over your ass, the tips of his fingers adjusting over the curve and leaving little to imagination as he can feel every ridge and curve of your body, his solid chest against your own. 

Your heart clenches at the idea that he might pull away, something akin to a bad sting and finally give up on his attempt at being sociable—he doesn’t move an inch.

Doesn’t say a word.

In fact, his gaze is even more intense now than it was before, edged with a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

“I’ll sulk wherever I feel like it.” Joel retorts, falling into his usual scowl. “It’s probably about time we turn in for the night, don’t you think?”

You blink slowly, gaze never faltering. There’s a darkness behind his eyes, something still undiscovered. You nod blanky, but secretly acquiesce what he’s about to say.

“Long day tomorrow,” You agree, the shift in the air evident to the both of you, an innocent attempt at pulling some enjoyment out of Joel devolving into something dangerous and uncharted, “I’ll see you bright and early, yeah?”

“I’ll walk you back,” Joel insists, “maybe my sulkin’ will scare those boys who’ve been eyeing you all night.”

“I can handle myself, Joel.” He knows it—doesn’t make his offer any less tempting, though. He was a protector, you liked being protected. It was a devious offer that would find you in trouble soon, but you relent, accepting his help. He doesn’t make the first move, leaving you to take that step.

Joel doesn’t realize how badly he’s craved to touch you until he was, the second he laid his hands on you it was over for him—and he hates himself for letting you in, letting you wear him down. Joel’s close behind as you turn, navigating your way through the crowd quietly.

“Never said you couldn’t, sweetheart.” 

Your breath catches in your throat.

There’s a hammering in your chest that doesn’t calm the entire way back toward your house, a small street near the edge of the town, a few houses away from the one he shared with Ellie.

You clear your throat awkwardly, a thickness there that crept up on you, watching as Joel shoved his hands into his front pockets, leaning on his better leg, always favoring the left.

“I can ask Tommy to switch things back if you’re really bothered,” You remind him gently, wondering if that was why he seemed so bothered now, his face brooding and flat, “I won’t get my feelings hurt, I promise.”

But inside Joel’s head, his mind is filtering through a thousand bad decisions to make, every one of them involving you. 

“No,” He tells you surely, “You’re doing me a favor—shit, so I guess that means you don’t owe me anymore, actually.”

You shrug slightly, “Keep it, this one’s free.”

Joel has an inclination that you wouldn’t do that for just anyone, watching your face morph into a tired smile.

“Careful,” He teases, “you’re goin’ soft on me.”

You snort softly, ignoring the still burning tingle that lingered on your skin long after Joel’s touch disappeared. It was the same ache you felt the first time he touched you, tackled you to the ground and kept you pinned under his grip. He hasn’t gotten much better, still jerking awake in most situations, but you’ve learned to keep your distance. 

“Sorry,” You slip your hands into your back pockets, your thick jumper pulling tight over your chest, “didn’t realize that was a bad thing.”

Joel shakes his head slightly, still lingering on your doorstep despite himself. Old Joel would hightail it home, old Joel wouldn’t have even offered to walk you back to begin with—but, here he was. 

“I should turn in.” You tell him, his subtle nod in response.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.” Joel agrees, “long day ahead of us.”

The clipped responses are feeding a tension you don’t realize until you’re both still standing there, unmoving, swaying with the gentle breeze and somehow feeling warm all over while still surrounded by the bitter cold.

And there’s a quick flash that invades your mind, even while stone cold sober, that has you twitching under his gaze. He sees it, clocks it with his eyes. 

There’s no indication that he’s attempting to get a reaction out of you, just lingering in wait, waiting for you.

You never make a move to open your door or walk inside and that’s what he’s waiting for, to see you home safe. It’s the whole reason he walked you back, wasn’t it?

Joel says your name quietly, a beckon to bring your attention back to the surface, drowning in your own thoughts but your gaze never faltering, stuck on him. 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” He asks.

It’s a question that has too many answers. And it’s a test too, wondering if you’ll slip up and speak on what you’re trying so hard to hold back.

Too much—is what you should say.

You—is what you want to say.

But instead, you act. That itching feeling overflowing and forcing you to make haste decisions, tired of hearing his voice in the back of your mind, how easily it drove you crazy. The endearing twang that echoed in your head all day long, even when he was miles away. 

And you find that Joel is almost expecting it, his hand cupping your face gently, warming the skin as you press in to kiss him cautiously, top lip slotting over his bottom and relaxing, your opposite hand mirroring his own. 

It feels too tender, like suddenly Joel is just as breakable as you—it’s terrifying. You pull away suddenly, coming to your senses, wide eyes staring him down. He looks calm.

You hate it.

It feels embarrassing.

He expected it, or at least anticipated it. You can see it on his face.

“Goodnight.” He tells you tenderly, sounding upset with himself but avoiding the choice to make things weird and you’re forever grateful.

You release a soft breath, nodding absently.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and enter your house, finally. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change Tommy’s mind.

It was.

Joel was already waiting by the gates by the time you arrived, food and supplies secured in your bag for the road, two rifles slung securely over his shoulders as he held the reins to the horses, both of them neighing impatiently. 

“All good?” Joel asks, avoiding the obvious air of unspoken instances surrounding you two. 

You nod confidently, taking the reins away silently.

“All set,” You assure him, guiding your foot through the saddle and mounting the horse, settling yourself as he followed suit, “you?”

Joel echoes your response.

You sigh internally, a deep annoyance settling into your bones. Annoyed with yourself, annoyed with Joel. Just annoyed, wholly and plainly. 

Joel didn’t need to admit that he hadn’t gotten any sleep the night prior—he already had enough trouble sleeping on a normal night, but you in his head? That didn’t help.

And it flooded into the morning, still, Joel watching your body sway and rock slowly from the motion of the horse, head tucked away slightly to counter the breeze that prickled your cheeks. 

When you finally make it to the dam he breaks the silence, slipping the reins from your hand and nodding toward the front entrance, “I’ll tie ‘em up if you want to settle and sign us in, you can get a fire going?”

He’s asking, not telling. You nod, hopping down carefully and unhooking your bag from the saddle.

“I’ll scream if I need help.” It’s a joke in poor taste.

Joel doesn’t take it too lightly, scowling in response.

“Sorry,” You apologize lamely, “bad joke.”

“Be careful,” Joel stresses, face softening, “keep your gun out until you’ve done a once over of the place.”

*

It feels like fate is fucking with you, most days. Dangling your life in front of its prey and savoring the outcome, because even with your gun poised carefully at your hip, knife tucked into the strap at your thigh, it doesn’t prepare you for what’s waiting on the other side of that door.

There’s a split second where you think you can talk things down, buy you some time so Joel could get here and settle their nerves, but they’re already on high alert, as are you, and there’s no time to think.

Plus, they don’t seem to be keen on listening.

“Grab her,” The burly man says, blunt weapon held tight in his grip as he goes for your arm, the other man forcing you to the ground with a harsh gasp escaping your chest as your back hits the concrete floor, “just gut her—fuckin’ do it.”

Your brain shuts off, realizing that your strength isn’t nearly matched with theirs, your shrill scream cutting through the commotion.

“Joel!” You tell, hoping he’ll hear, dodging the hand that comes your way to muffle your yells, barking out an even more broken, “Jooooel!”

Your gun is long gone, tossed away in a corner with your hand pinned under someone’s knees, eyes squeezed shut as you struggle for the knife around your thigh blindly. They didn’t have the wits or common sense to strip you properly before they were attacking you, the younger one hesitating at the other’s words.

“I thought you said we were just tyin’ her up.” He responds, sounding panicked. 

You grab the knife successfully and pierce it through the young one’s gut with a sickening squish, a garbled groan ripping from his throat—and a rush of a shadow overhead as Joel wrested the other down, coming in from the door on the opposite side of the room, fists connecting with the attackers face with a sickening crunch.

The rage overtakes quickly, adrenaline flooding your body as you shove the man away, pulling the knife out to sink back in once, twice, until the blood fills his mouth and spills over, lifeless eyes staring back.

Your chest heaves with a breath, adjusted your clothes from where they had been pushed aside in the tackle, tossing your knife aside and putting enough distance between your body and the one who’s your killed, watching as Joel sunk the tip of his own knife through the throat of the larger man, draining the life from him in an instant. 

Joel has a ferocity in his eyes when they land on you, tossing his knife to the side momentarily as he rises, towering over the body beneath him. He can't be angry with you—he can't.

“Grab your gun,” He tells you, ignoring how easily the rage would have overtaken his body in most situations, buring it away for the moment when he sees how badly you’re shaken up (it wasn't fear, not even close—more like rage), moving around rigidly to grab your gun off the floor, “knife too—then sit down.”

“But the—the bodies, Joel,” Joel can hear the uncertainty in your voice, shaking his head insistently, “we’ve gotta go back—tell Tommy, let them know.”

Joel shakes out his muscles, adjusting his thick leather jacket around his frame and steps over the dead body, moving to stand in front of you, touching you for the first time since last night. It’s not soft or gentle, more leading in an effort to get your attention and pull you out of your gaze, his fingers cupping your jaw, chin falling in the curve where his thumb and pointer finger connect. 

You wonder how many times he's done this before—how he'd come to learn to calm people down through his intense eye contact and grounding voice. He could mask his emotions for the sake of others, even when they were threatening to boil over.

“I’ve got it, I’ll take care of this—” His eyes never left yours, eyebrows raising in question as he awaited your acknowledgment, a small nod coming from you, “go wash the blood off and come straight back, okay?”

You nod again, deftly, eyes empty and void of emotion.

“Hey,” Joel calls out, pulling your attention back, “I need you with me—you with me?”

“Yeah—yes,” You mumble weakly, ignoring how tenderly his thumb rubbed the junction of your jaw at the admittance, something you’re sure he wasn’t even aware he was doing, “I’m with you.” 

“Go.” He instructs, releasing his hold on you.

His face morphs into resentment as you leave.

He should've stuck by your side. But, then he thinks back to the joke you made in passing and it fuels the anger more.

*

Joel’s taken care of the bodies by the time you returned, shrugging off his own jacket as he yanked the door closed, barricading it closed with the vacant table stuff in the corner of the room, letting his own paranoia get the better of him. It wasn’t a crime to be too safe, not anymore.

“If they’ve got a group they’ll come here looking for ‘em,” Joel tells you, “but somethin’ tells me we won’t have to worry about that.”

“So, no fire then?” 

Joel shakes his head, nodding toward the few camping lateens left haphazardly on a desk, “We’ll use those tonight, better to be safe.”

He would have to explain this to Tommy when he saw him, put the town back on high alert for a while and go to sleep every night worrying that someone was going to snatch his family away again—snatch Ellie away, snatch you away. It was another problem, another stressor, but none of that was new to him. 

“I’m gonna do a walkthrough,” He tells you, cocking his gun loudly, a little unnecessarily in your opinion, but his anger is still there, radiating off of him, “keep your gun out and shoot at anything you see that isn’t me.”

He doesn’t want you letting your guard down, which is why his apprehension to relax is valid. You nod quietly, sinking in on yourself as you take a seat on the old, torn up couch.

He’s gone for an hour or two, the sun nearly nonexistent outside now, lamps scattered around the room and bathing you in a low light, gun still clutched in your hand on your lap, safety off.

Joel knocks on the door shortly after, startling you to near death. You hated being jumpy like this, nothing to calm your nerves. You’d always prided yourself for being able to handle yourself in situations like that and you couldn’t explain why you froze—but deep down, you knew.

It was Joel. Worry for him when he wasn’t there, what threat might be awaiting him if they could get the jump so easily on you. You stumble to your feet and pull the door open, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the mattress in Joel’s grip.

“Tommy must’ve moved it last time—he doesn’t like sleepin’ when he’s on watch down here.”

You open the door wider, letting him inside and taking the opposite end to help with the weight, settling the mattress up against the edge of the couch and shifting the folded blankets down onto the surface, crouching down onto your knees with a soft sigh as you spread out the blankets.

You don’t realize Joel is watching you until you chance a glance up his way, wondering if this was the moment he’d let you have and berate you until he was blue in the face. 

You’ve witnessed it once, with Jesse. He’d nearly risked Ellie’s life on a patrol that should’ve been easy—he still seems a little jumpy in Joel’s presence, rightfully so.

“Look at me,” Joel beckons, adding your name in a demand to grab your attention, “you with me?”

And it breaks you, what little patience you have left in your body.

“Yes, Joel. I am right fucking here.” You snip back at him, throwing the blankets down and standing to full height. You’re tired of his act, hidden behind his pathetic excuse of a kind guise, wanting him to say what he really felt. When he looked at you earlier, hovering over that man’s body, all you could see was contempt. He was upset with you—upset that you allowed yourself to be in danger, ignoring his lectures time and time again, that you weren’t mindful of your surroundings, upset with himself that he wasn’t there from the beginning. 

Joel looks offended, like maybe you wounded his ego or something similar, his hand held up defensively.

“You’re the one over there shakin’ like a leaf,” Joel accuses, “I told you to keep your damn gun out, told you to be careful—don’t you try and take that anger out on me.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You cry out in desperation, “careful? Two against one and you’re telling me I wasn’t careful? Fuck you.”

You toss your gun and knife sheath aside for good measure, stripping out of your coat and extra winter layers, his hardened gaze stuck on you. 

“I’ll take first watch.” You tell him flatly, reaching for the lantern on the table beside the door that led to the rest of the plant, a maze of halls and room. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

Joel knows that if he lets you leave, there is no repairing what little relationship you had—it would return to a tolerance rather than anything else. His hand wraps around your closed fist, forcing the latent back down as he moves to stand in front of you, head tilted your way.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes, though it feels unsympathetic coming from him, and he’s blaming it on his tone, “okay?”

“It doesn’t matter, Joel.” You tell him adamantly. “You said it, it’s done. I’ll let Tommy know you don’t think I can handle myself anymore and you can keep running patrols without me. That’s what you want, right?”

Joel scoffs.

Say no, please say no. 

“What are you getting at?” Joel challenges.

“The first time I make a mistake—one that almost kills me and all you can think to do is shift the blame on me? That somehow I’m responsible for not handling it myself?”

He shifts slightly, jaw clenching as he moves his outstretched hand to rest against the doorframe, blocking you from the exit. 

“You never let me go alone,” You remind him, “why all the sudden today?”

Joel doesn’t answer. He knows why. He trusted you, trusted that you could handle it. Joel knows you’re not the one to blame, but he can’t battle with his internal guilt of putting you in that position, letting it come out in bursts of wrath.

You lean in slightly, his eyes mindful of your body language, shoving a finger into his chest roughly.

“Why isn’t it your fault, huh?” You ask, baiting a reaction out of him before you can’t stand the look on his face, mouth shut tight as he his eyes trace your movements, the soft brown irises now an encroaching darkness.

You scoff, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” It’s a snide comment that has you feeling a surge of confidence that you’ve finally rendered him speechless.  “Don’t act like you haven’t been bothered being around me all day—if the kiss bothered you that much you should’ve just told Tommy to switch out. Now, move.”

Joel doesn’t budge.

Now your patience is wearing then, reaching to shove his forearm out of the way, but he’s as solid as steel and doesn’t take too lightly to your touch, gripping your wrist and pulling it back in a harsh grip, one that has your face grimacing in pain.

“Say that again.” Joel demands, his voice shaking you to your core, the sickeningly dark turn it’s taken. 

You double down, “Move, Joel.” You say through clenched teeth, yanking your arm back to no avail.

You hadn’t realized how wound up you both were until now, the shared frustration and pique boiling over the edge.

You yank away again, forcing a quick change of position as Joel retaliates, shoving you against the table by the door, your legs buckling from the force of it as he towers over you.

“I apologized,” He glared at you through hooded eyes, chin tilting down slightly, “it’s your turn.”

You scoff softly, never making a move to push him away, his legs crowding between yours as they spread involuntarily, the only thing keeping you upright being the grip he had on your arm, leaving you hanging by a thread. If he let go, you’d surely collapse.

“Why don’t you tell me why you really switched patrols?” Joel suggests, tilting his head in interest. “Don’t lie to me—I’ll know.”

There was a side of you that couldn’t stand being around him, his proximity driving you crazy. But, there’s a bigger part that yearned to be around him, by his side—it was never like this at first, but you found yourself unable to escape him lately. 

You want to blame him for letting you in, letting his guard down—but you can’t. It wasn’t just his fault. It wasn’t just yours. 

You craved each other. Plain and simple.

“You tell me,” You counter, “I’m not the one keeping you from leaving.”

It snaps Joel—that feeling he’s been burying away all day. He’s nearly insatiable over it. 

He trades his grip on your wrist for your face, too quick to counter before he’s gripping your chin again like earlier, but under completely different pretenses, your mouth lolling open at the force and pulling a soft grunt from your lips, eyes narrow in defiance. 

“You are so goddamn stubborn,” He complains, eyes scanning over your face slowly, “—and you know exactly what you’re doing.”

You laugh bitterly, a choked gasp. 

He's never touched you like this, but intensity is all too familiar.

His grip was tight, your mind flashing back to the first time he held you, though involuntarily. There was intention now, meaning—and you needed him to give in to it. 

You blink once, slow, eyes staying shut for a moment longer than needed. There’s a soft sigh that leaves your nose, ghosts over Joel’s outstretched palm. When you open your eyes, there’s little left of the Joel you’ve become accustomed to.

“We’ve got all night, Joel.” His nostrils flare in warning, “Go on—do it.”

He won’t. Joel wouldn’t let himself. You’re waiting for the moment he lets you go, shuffles away and tucks himself into a corner for the rest of the night. But, it never comes.

Instead he’s surging forward, tilting your chin up roughly and forcing his lips against your own, nothing like the delicate kiss shared the night prior. There’s no gradual increase, no soft sighs and hesitant touches. He doesn’t want that and neither do you. 

You open your mouth in an airy gasp of breath and Joel jumps on the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, into your mouth, pressing against your own until you finally, finally return his touch. He feels the heat, the weight of your hand where it rests against the seam of his jeans, fingers resting over his belt and your knuckles pressing into the firmness of his stomach, his breathing steady despite his eagerness to ravish you. He greedily pulls your bottom lip between his own, sucking lewdly until his teeth drag against the skin, pulling back with untamed eyes.

You narrow your eyes with intrigue, mouth quipping up into a smirk at his final break of self control, allowing himself what he wanted. There was no turning back now. 

He grips your hands, yanking you upright and forcing you to turn until your hip bones are hitting the blunt edge of the table, his movements haste but pointed, his palms rubbing over the soft curve of your hips, pressing underneath the material of your shirt and squeezing the skin. 

“Joel—“ You sing softly, your tone mocking.

“Keep quiet,” He warns, pulling you back suddenly and against his front, the heaviness of his cock pressing into your backside, strained through his jeans and craving a selfish need for release—it’s been too long for him and he’s bursting at the seams, “don’t wanna hear your smartass remarks.”

And you can hear the restraint in his voice, drowning in his thoughts—he wanted to ravish and pull you apart, not thinking about how he would put you back together and make you whole again. You shift back against him, a greedy rut of your ass against the stiff denim and he’s grunting under the weight of it.

“Get ‘em down,” He instructs, yanking at your jeans briefly before his touch is gone, hands working swiftly at his own.

The rustle of his belt is deafening, metal clanging against something solid, the quick shuffle of his zipper and the shifting off fabric. You rise without hesitation, unbuttoning your jeans and wiggling them far enough down your hips until they hit your knees, underwear following roughly as Joel shoved them down impatiently, bunching your shirt higher up your back as he rubs his fingers over your cunt sleazily. 

He’s waiting a beat, eyes examining you from behind and looking for any sign that you didn’t want this—it never comes. In fact, the subtle push back into his fingers is enough, two thick digits sinking inside slowly.

You gasp ruggedly, feeling the immediate difference in fullness to your own, the touch of someone else that you haven’t felt in so long. Joel is desperate, but so are you. 

You turn your face to the side, cheek pressed against the hard surface, fingers gripping either side of the table and you let yourself melt into his touch, his fingers working you over steadily, his other hand squeezing at the soft globes of your ass, following the insistent and impatient wiggle of your hips as you seek more friction, more fullness until Joel can’t stand it anymore, palm coming down in a rough slap to your backside to still you, a warning.

“You treat all the ladies like this?” 

He should’ve known you wouldn’t give yourself over this easy, his stifled chuckle coming from behind, low and dark, until he’s quickly switching back to menacing, his fingers increasing with speed and intensity, dragging a third finger along your center and pressing it in smoothly, forcing a lewd moan from your lips as you grip the edges of the table harder, willing to strain your neck for a look his way, a glimpse at his face to see how this was affecting him. You could only imagine, his groans stifled behind heavy puffs of air forced through his nose when you forced yourself back against his cock, inadvertently rubbing yourself against the length of his shaft.

“Fine, keep acting like you hate me.”

The loss of fingers is sudden, fingers fisting into your hair with a sudden fierceness as he pulls you upright, your hands grasping for purchase. He tilts your head back, allowing you the smallest glimpse of his face as he looks forward, talking to you but never allowing you the eye contact you desperately craved. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart.”

You shake your head in disbelief, lifting your hand up to wind into his own overgrown hair, curling wildly. You pull taut, reveling in the grunt that slips past his lips.

“You don’t scare me, Joel.” 

He never could. You’ve seen all sides of him, the good and the bad—there was nowhere left for him to hide.

But, he should, he thinks. You should be terrified. 

“I don’t remember sayin’ I wanted to hear your voice,” Joel reprimands, “can’t fuckin’ listen today, can you?”

He turns his head toward you slightly, catching the playful glint in your eyes, the type that was asking to be pushed. Begging for it.

“Depends,” You smile, releasing the rough grip on his hair to slide between your bodies, cupping his cock from where he’s tucked it over his briefs, also pushed haphazardly down his hips, “are you going to fuck me, Joel?”

His name shouldn’t sound like that, falling from your lips in such a circumstance, but it drags a rabidness out of him he’s never felt before. 

“Say it again.” Joel demands—and you already know.

“Joel,” Your voice is sultry, dangerous, adding a squeeze of your hand to his length, thumb rubbing over the head of his cock, smoothing the slick of precum over the slit, “you started this, too afraid to finish it?”

Joel smirks at that, a smug expression crossing his face as releases the grip on your hair, shoving your hand away and gripping himself at the base, removing his fingers from inside you and replacing them with a slow press of his cock, watching your expression fall lax, mouth hung open in a silent release of pleasure. 

“You underestimate me,” He shakes his head in amusement, his own brow furrowing at your snug hold on him, walls clenching around him involuntarily, “Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?”

You nod numbly, gasping loudly at the sudden change in pace, body shifting to lean forward and Joel’s hands slotting against your body, one secured firmly on your hip, the other guiding you back with a steady pressure against your shoulder, immediately blanking your mind, whatever rude quip you had poised was failing you.

“So — goddamn — stubborn,” He echoes from earlier, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips, no restraint, divulging in the pleasure both of you have been seeking for a while, “don’t fuckin’ listen, always testin’ me.”

You release a soft cry, reaching an arm behind you to squeeze at his side, tightening with every sharp thrust, the head of his cock nudging something deep inside of you, the feeling coiling in your gut despite yourself. It’s a dull ache, mewling desperately when he forgoes his hold on your hip to keep your arm stuck, thick fingers wrapping around your wrist to hold you steady, eyes shifting to watch you sink onto him with an unrestrained eagerness.

“Nothin’ to say now?” Joel pesters you, thumb rubbing the tender spot at the base of your neck, the start of your spine between your shoulder blades—your silence lingers, at least in words, your pathetic noises keeping you busy.

He feels like he’s finally got the upper hand with you, he just never realized this was what it would take. 

“Fuck—fuck, Joel.” You say through a stuttered sigh.

Joel grimaces from behind you, that longing feeling of release creeping on him, too long without it and he feels pathetic for it, but you—the sounds, the view.

Oh, the view. It’s your neediness for it that sucks him in, how eager your cunt is to take hold, the wet squelch growing louder, your slick soaking the base of his cock.

“Why’d you kiss me, huh?” Joel questions firmly, trying to draw the truth out in the heat of the moment, your movements growing desperate as you orgasm creeped in, blunt nails digging into his skin. He hissed, pulling you in tight, trading the hand on your shoulder for a squeeze to your chest, palm the mound of your breast through your shirt—still enough contact to drive you insane. 

“Wanted to—wanted to see how you would react.” You admit, but there was also that selfish need. You kissed him because you wanted to—and you knew he did too.

Joel huffs in response, not fully believing you. 

“Try again,” Joel assesses the way your body tenses when his hand shifts down, pressing over his fingers over your clit and driving you over the edge in an instant, your body arching into his touch as you come, a broken moan falling from your lips, “why?”

“Doesn’t matter—you kissed me back,” You argue tiredly, “You wanted it just as much as I did. Clearly.”

And in a way, it’s all the confession he needs. 

Joel growls lowly, pulling out abruptly to grip himself, squeezing himself at the head to delay his orgasm until it fades, face scrunching up tightly in anguish. 

“What—what are you doing?” 

Joel is already tucking himself back into his pants by the time you turn around, his expression stiff and avoiding your gaze. 

There it was again, the avoidance. 

You don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does.

“I’ll take the first watch,” He says, shuffling backwards slightly, “get dressed.”

You stare back blanky, at a loss for words.

“Did you hear me?” He asks bluntly, brow now permanently furrowed in frustration.

“But—you didn’t—“ 

The silence lingers, your head tilting in question. Your expression softens suddenly, pulling weakly at your jeans to secure them back over your hips.

“Get some sleep, we’ll head out early tomorrow.”

You still had to send a bigger team to scout the place thoroughly, a distant memory now.

You’re so fucking confused. A few minutes prior he was lost in the moment, though still wound up and tense—but it was the biggest break in demeanor he’s ever given you, the most he’s allowed himself to touch you, be close to you. 

Joel didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t deserve it. He was trying to convince himself it was a mistake, that this was a fluke. 

He clears his throat awkwardly, hesitating for a brief moment as his hand hovers over the doorknob before he’s leaving you alone. Again. 

Joel handles himself later that night, long after you’ve gone asleep, a permanent frown on your face when he peeks his head in before he’s traveling down the hall to a separate room, cupping himself in his palm eagerly, groaning out your name as he comes.

Somehow, it makes him feel even worse.

The week that follows is tumultuous. 

Tommy swears you and Joel off of patrol for a while, tells you that as soon as he has you two alone, gathering the full story of the attack, but somehow—Joel always weasels his way out. 

He’s gone most of the daylight, leaving you to fill your days around Jackson, helping wherever it was needed. And when it wasn’t, you were stuck inside your home, watching the snow melt from the ground, only to be covered with a new blanket of it the next day.

Joel always comes home late, heavy feet scuffling down the sidewalk after dark and entering his house, Ellie having already turned in for the night. His bedroom light comes on a few minutes later and it never shuts off, his shadow crossing the window every now and then. 

He can’t sleep, but neither can you.

At first you blamed it on the bodies—but none of that was new to you. You’ve killed before, animals, infected, raiders, even a few bystanders in a situation long ago, nothing they’ve done to end up the way they did. 

You followed a bad group for too long, but eventually you found Jackson—things were different here. Joel’s told you about the horrible things he’s done to survive, assures you it wasn’t anything you could blame yourself for.

This world made people rabid. It made people afraid.

There were people, much like Joel, that used to terrify you. But this Joel, he was lost and worn down, weathered by the world and by age. He’s afraid to let himself indulge, enjoy—you saw it that night, his hesitancy to look at you afterwards. 

And that ache that lingered for a few days, it made you realize that you were missing something you couldn’t have. It was clear on Joel’s face that he’d made a mistake. With you. 

Joel looks bitter the week that follows, you having convinced Tommy to let you back out, assuring him that nothing was wrong. He’s hesitant, rightfully so, but you’re too convincing. 

You even offer to run patrol with him, or Jesse—literally anyone but Joel, who seemed obviously disgruntled by your presence that morning.

Tommy clocks it immediately, swiping a finger between you both, “You know what—I’m sending you two out together.” It’s dreadful. “Take the lodge again,” and Tommy waits for everyone to part ways, except for Joel and you, before he’s eyeing you both down, “work out whatever argument you both have going—or you’re both coming off patrols until I feel like putting you back on.”

Joel grumbles at that, adjusting the thick gloves over his hand and shaking his head with a look down. Tommy seems slightly apologetic when you lock eyes, but it’s necessary. You were too scared to admit it to yourself, but it’s exactly what you needed.

*

You can’t be bothered to stay still, wandering around the lodge aimlessly, picking up some scattered trash, sifting through the small library that had accumulated over time, worn and slightly rained over books, the pages stiff and discolored. 

Joel’s cheeks are still tinged pink from his last watch, arms crossed over his stomach as he glares at the small fire burning in the fire pit, crackling softly in the silence.

He’s being insistently stubborn, somehow managing to avoid any exchange of words in the past eight hours, not giving you his usual orders, whether delivered in a clipped tone or a kind one—it’s just nothing.

And considering how talkative he was last time you ran patrol with him, you found it to be bullshit.

You grab a random book, large and bulky and make your way toward him—he sees you coming but he ignores it, the book hitting solid against his chest as you force it there, making a snide comment to rattle him.

“To entertain yourself, since you’re so miserable,” Your eyes drag over his face, his eyes lilting up your way, the fire melting them into a warm, honey brown, “and you won’t even have to worry about finishing.”

He grabs your wrist suddenly, thinking that he might pull you toward him, but he tosses it away, throwing the book to the side too. You sigh through your nose, frustrated.

“What’s it gonna take, Joel?” 

There’s an ire of defeat in your voice, a willingness to do just about anything to put this to rest. 

“Do I need to leave Jackson, is that it?”

That gets his attention, his gaze narrowing fiercely.

“Don’t say that shit,” He bites, “you got a death wish or something?”

“Well, you clearly don’t want me around, so who cares?”

Joel bites at the inside of his cheek—he didn’t agree with that. 

“Give me something, Joel. Anything.” You plead, hand accidentally brushing his thigh as you fall into the spot beside him, imitating the closeness he craved but couldn’t bring himself to ask for, not again. 

He tenses under your touch, fist curling at his side, noticing how you pointedly keep your grip there. 

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning.

But, it’s the biggest sign he’s given you. There was still a fondness there, lingering behind wall after wall that he’s built up.

He doesn’t move your hand either, your fingers dragging up the inside of his thigh, along the seam and stopping where his jeans creased at his groin, palm settling over the curve of his thigh.

“So, do we work things out or not?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper, talking like you might scare him away. 

And, yeah—Joel wasn’t big on hashing things out, confessing his thoughts or emotions and conveying them into words, that was never a surprise to you. But, you needed equal ground. 

You weren’t looking for a confession or some dramatic change in pace with your relationship—whatever you could classify it as. A partnership, maybe?

You need something mutually beneficial, something that was give and take on both ends. 

You squeeze at the junction of his thigh, taut muscle giving way as Joel shows little signs of being affected. His eyes follow though, acutely aware of your intention.

This was you returning the favor. 

This was you cornering him, like he had you—if he didn’t want it he would’ve pushed you away ages ago, but he does want it. He needs it. 

His jaw flexes under the weight of your grip, watching you move slowly to sink to the ground, thankful that this floor wasn’t nearly as dirty as most places. Joel shifts slightly to accommodate you, thighs spreading open to box you in, hands coming to rest down at his side, flat against the cushion.

You push at his coat lightly, forcing it away from his chest until he gets the idea, stripping himself the rest of the way, his unbuttoned flannel falling open.

You work quietly, eyes flicking up toward him occasionally to check in, make sure he was still with you. He’s mesmerized now, despite himself. Locked in.

He doesn’t stop your hands when they reach for the zipper of his jeans, unbuttoning and loosening them in one fluid motion, tugging at his jeans until, again, he catches on, forcing them down just enough.

It’s surprising how in tune he is with you despite how hard he tried to keep his distance, hoping that one big mistake would fade away—but frankly, it hadn’t left either of your minds since then. 

“Touch yourself.” You command softly, an amused aspect to your voice.

Joel balks slightly, his bewilderment something to enjoy.

“What?” You ask innocently, “Is that too personal? Sorry–I should’ve considered that when I let you fuck me over a table.”

His nostrils flare in annoyance, but he listens. Thank god. He slips his fingers under the band of his underwear, palming himself lightly under the fabric, leaving you to lean back onto your heels, enjoying the lazy show he put on for you.

He had nothing to be ashamed of.

His fingers roll against the taut skin of his sack, drifting upwards over his shaft until he finally has the courage to shift his underwear to sit snug under his balls, watching your eyes drift from his cock to his face. Joel’s mouth parted briefly, rubbing his thumb over the head, glistening with a sheen of precum, your hands itching to touch him. 

He knows it will lead to nothing but bad outcomes, but he’s indulging in it. Allowing it.

“Come here,” He’s using his free hand to beckon you forward, leaving his palm extending for you to lean into, resting your chin there gently, “open your mouth.”

You obliges, sweetening the deal by sticking your tongue out, earning a gruff laugh in response, softening your gaze on him. There were plenty of other ways to resolve things, but this was so much easier.

He slides the head over your tongue in a deft slap, slipping it past your lips slowly before he’s pulling back and repeating the process again, watching as you eagerly follow his movements until you’re bordering on impatience.

“Don’t think you have the upper hand here, sweetheart.” Joel says, eyebrow quirking up in amusement at your annoyed expression. “You want it?”

You tilt your head at him, eyes narrowing. “You want me to beg for it?”

Joel chuckles at the thought, shaking his head. “I didn’t pin you as the type.”

Cheeky Joel was something to admire, rolling your eyes and shoving his hands away, allowing yourself to take over fully and leaving him with nothing to do but watch, rolling your tongue around the head and through the slit, mouth enveloping the heady taste of him. 

Joel was always good at keeping his composure, even now–but you were looking to break him down, nothing but a mumbling, begging mess of himself, even for a brief moment.

You take him in slowly, soft and parted lips pressing down the length of him, the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your tongue, cheeks, until he’s nudging the back of your throat and you swallow out of reflex.

His knuckles flex, turning white as he curls them inwards and digs into the cheap cushion, the stitching protesting under his grip.

There he is. 

You make a small noise, a soft bubble of laughter out of pure enjoyment, pulling back with a showy drag of your tongue up his shaft until you’re sinking down again, burying your nose in the short, trimmed thatch of hair at the base of his cock, ignoring that telltale feeling to let up, breathing deep through your nose. 

“Goddamnit,” He curses, the hand not gripping the cushion rising slightly before slamming back down in a fist, the material taking most of the blow, “you gotta ease up on me.”

He doesn’t add the please, but you can see it’s implied.

You smile sweetly when you pull away, a thin line of spit connecting your lips to the wet head of his cock, stroking him languidly to keep busy, running your thumb along the thick vein that traced along the underside. 

“Don’t think so,” It’s sickening, tone laced in sugar and daring him—for what, you weren’t sure, “—more?”

Joel nods quickly, widening his stance as he sunk further into the couch, your hands bracing against his stomach as he filtered his fingers through your hair, framing it away from your face as you continued, driving him to near insanity with how easily you would take him down over and over again, stopping to tease your tongue over the head of his cock, realizing just how sensitive that part of him was.

He grunts on a particular rough pass, yanking your hair back and allowing a centimeter of reprice as your lips barely brush the aching tip, “You can stop, sweetheart. It’s alright.”

It feels like a punishment, not allowing himself to seek that relief—he sees it as a barrier, that by not allowing it, things won’t ever reach a point of no return. Not that this wasn’t already dangerous enough—it’s a ridiculous rule, but Joel follows it. He’d give you as much pleasure as you asked and then some, if that’s what you wanted.

And it clicks in your head slowly, his cock pulsing dully in your hands, begging for it. 

No. He wasn’t doing that again.

“No,” You echo your thoughts, “Give me your hand.”

“Darlin’—“

“Joel, shut up.” You demand, gripping his open palm and replacing it with your own, “I want you to come in my mouth.”

Joel looks conflicted, eyebrow pinching in a mix of pleasure and regret, his mind blanking the moment you press a gentle kiss to the head, pressing your tongue flat again and moving his hand in tandem until he starts to give in, his breaths becoming shorter, more strangled.

“That’s it,” You mumble a praise through his haziness—he doesn’t know how to take it, the feeling so foreign to him, “take control, Joel.”

His eyes fall shut briefly, forcing focused breaths through his nose as his free hand grips your face, keeping you still as he strokes himself roughly, that last string of self control breaking under your gaze when he tilts his head down to look at you, soft gaze staring back at him and he’s coming over your tongue and into your mouth with a warm rush, the taste of him overwhelming your senses as he squeezes up to the tip, milking every last bit of himself into your mouth before he’s pulling away and gently guiding your mouth closed.

“Shit—“ He groans quietly, cupping himself tenderly as he pulls away, watching you swallow and tracing a trace of him at the corner of your lip back into your mouth with your thumb, staring him down intently, “you’re fuckin’ greedy, you know that?”

You shrug proudly, rising to your feet slowly, the ache from sitting crouched so long singing a protest from your joints.

“Add it to the list,” You snark at him, taking a casual seat beside him as he tucks himself away, your hands working carefully to roll up your jacket and tuck it under your head as you recline, laying down on your side, “right?”

Joel scoots away to accommodate you, looking perplexed at how quickly you’ve changed your demeanor, yawning until your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Stop staring and get some sleep, Joel.” You gripe, reaching blindly to ball his coat up and toss it at his chest, “Problem solved, we’re even now.”

Joel puffs through his lips, ignoring that lingering feeling as you very quickly forced the distance between him and you—a payback to his own previous actions. It hurts, stings, and now he realizes what that meant and why that frown never left your face before, not even on the ride home or long thereafter.

He’s fucked. 

To say things escalate is an understatement.

The two of you never actually talk, avoiding all aspects of emotional vulnerability in turn for your usual interactions—small conversations, jokes, driving each other up the wall with the constant close proximity due to your assigned jobs. But, now there’s more.

There's the Joel that wants and takes, stops holding back his desires and gives you just about every possible orgasm from then on. This Joel is insatiable if he allows himself to be. He’s downright filthy and terrifying when it mattered and he found that the more you seemed to give yourself over, the easier it was for him to stop worrying so much. 

And he seems lighter nowadays, happier—though, it was still Joel. There was only so much to enjoy, his smiles few and far between. However, that smirk, laced in a smugness he carried with himself when he was alone with you—it had become a regular sight to see and something you craved when you’d finally get him alone.

It never starts off slow. Joel’s always itching by the time rotation leads you his way. You two keep it close to your chest like a secret–saving times like this strictly for patrols.

Joel doesn’t even wait sometimes, cornering you the moment the horses are tied up, bags set aside, crowding up behind you as he wrangles your jeans down, along with his, and presses himself inside you with a deep grunt, pressing you up against whatever hard surface was near–it didn’t matter, the ferocity of his thrusts clouding your mind.

It’s punishment for how well you tease him on the rides there, thighs spread wide over the saddle and always riding just a few inches ahead, leaning forward enough that you can stick out your ass, Joel’s eyes drawing toward you immediately. 

It was easy.

“You like messin’ with me, don’t you?” He chastises, palming at the inside of your thigh in desperation, pulling you wider and wider for him until it aches and you have nothing to do but take it. “Fuckin’ with my head?”

You laugh breathily, head thrown back against his shoulder as you moan wantonly, thick fingers bearing down on your throat, keeping you tight against him. “It’s not my fault–fault you can’t control it.” You reply innocently, stumbling over your words when his fingers press against your core.

And it’s often like this. Fast, hurried, no care or soft, caressing touches involved. It’s simpler that way.

But, eventually, Joel breaks down–little by little.

*

A week or two passes by and Joel seems desperate. 

“What did I just say?” He seethed, voice laced with annoyance, “Keep your eyes open.”

He’s right there, his hand, his fingers, buried deep inside your cunt. Joel’s on edge again, having ordered you to strip down naked while he remained completely clothed, the cold air prickling your skin like this, the lingering days of Winter coming to a close. It’s dark here, wet and mucky, the only barrier between you and the floor is an old blanket that Joel had stowed away in his saddle. He spent the last two weeks dealing with a copious amount of shit–killing more infected than they’re used to, dealing with mundane problems around Jackson that shouldn’t be his problems, but in being Tommy’s brother, he took a piece of the burden off of him.

You gasp sharply, feeling the force of Joel’s grip as he orders your eyes open, an impossible feat in the moment with how easily he’s able to bring you near the edge with just his fingers–something he found out fairly quickly. 

“Joel–Joel, please,” You beg–it’s new for you, something you don’t do often, “let me–fuck–”

“Hmm, sweetheart?” Joel questions, igniting a fire in your belly that won’t go out. He likes you this way, clawing at him, nearly on the brink of tears over how bad you need him. “Spit it out.”

You’re hastily shoving him away, brow pinched in determination as you shove him down, working desperately at his buckle, his pants, working them down with little care or finesse, gripping the length of him and sinking down in one quick movement. 

It punches a moan out of Joel’s chest that you’re not used to, his head slamming pack against his bag, the makeshift pillow he’s got stuffed behind his head as he grips your hips tight, eyes locked on the center where you’re both connected, grunting with the hurried bounce of your hips, losing what little patience you had left as you chase your orgasm, shoving his shirt up his chest to feel him–all soft, tanned skin under your fingertips as you brace yourself against him, using the surface for leverage.

He can’t stand to watch you this way, tits jostling with every hurried thrust, blunt nails clawing at his abdomen, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, again. He likes you facing away because he can hide his own inflections, how well you drive him wild–you’ve never cared, especially not now. 

Joel grunts raggedly, forcing out a hoarse whisper, “You’re fuckin’ killing me here.”

A soft laugh bubbles in your chest, head lolling forward and eyes opening to look at him.

“Mmm, eyes on me, Joel.” You beckon, his slow gaze trailing upwards, nodding in response to his wrecked state, hair sticking up wildly, teeth grazing his bottom lip gently. “God–it feels so good, doesn’t it?

Joel nods absently, his hands slipping from your hips to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh in his hands, aware of how your touch burns a trail up toward his face, coaxing his bottom lip to freedom, grazing your thumb over the soft tissue, soothing the ache.

You ignore how easily he takes the pad of it over his tongue and lets you press the digit beyond his lips, how willing he’s being to let you take what you want.

He pulls out before he comes, spilling into his hand to contain the mess, leaving you enraptured with his expression as his face pulls up in anguish, the same expression he has when he’s bothered or annoyed but edged with something more, his breath catching.

He rolls you back over soon after, replacing his hand with his mouth, hot tongue lapping into your folds and tasting, savoring, the mix of you two tangled together and he devours until you come, hand yanking hard at his hair.

*

April comes quickly—it means longer patrols, more problems out in the field with the infected less dormant, and Jackson coming alive more often at night, everyone enjoying the weather after a bitter winter.

You find yourself at Tommy’s doorstep one night.

Maria had been planning this dinner for a few weeks, something special for Tommy’s birthday, and somehow you got roped into going.

It was Ellie.

Joel was the least bit surprised when you showed up at the front door that night, dressed up nicer than he’s had the privilege to witness. You’re smiling, a flowy dress cutting off mid-thigh, forgoing the usual sweater with the air warming up, leaving your shoulders bare. 

Joel nods in greeting when Ellie peeks around his shoulder, beaming at the sight out of you.

“Thank god,” She groans, “Those two are insufferable together,” Tommy and Joel, “—they’ve been arm wrestling each other in the backyard for the last hour.”

Your eyebrows raise, looking over at Joel. He’s got the hint of a smile on his face, looking down at Ellie before he’s shoving her away with a palm to the crown of her head, his arm flexing under the fitted cotton shirt he wore, muscle on full display. 

It’s easy to forget how strong Joel is under all those layers, but it’s even more apparent now with how often you find him stripped down underneath you, behind you, watching him become more and more comfortable around you as the weeks pass, finally giving in to whatever it was that you two were indulging in.

It was mostly sex—a means for release and often a cure for boredom and neither of you minded it much, but there was something lingering in the shadows. 

You were good at ignoring it, apparently so was Joel.

He leads you to the backyard with a silence you’ve become accustomed to, and spends most of the dinner laughing at Ellie’s terrible and poorly timed jokes. It’s such a sight, seeing how effortlessly Ellie can break that man down, and you realize just how deeply he cared for her, even if she wasn’t his daughter. 

He glances at you frequently, a silent check-in.

You were fine—a little tired, maybe? 

You excuse yourself to the bathroom with a flick of your hair behind your ear and a whine in protest from your chair as it scrapes the floor, leaving the rest of the party in the backyard while you traverse inside. 

It isn’t long before there’s a knock behind the closed door and that unsettling creak, only to be met face to face with Joel. He looks relaxed, placated, his face falling into a natural smirk.

And based on the drink in his hand, slightly inebriated. 

“Lost?” You tease, fixing yourself idly in the mirror, watching as Joel crossed the threshold and nudged the door close behind him. “Joel–”

“Don’t worry, darlin’.” Joel soothes, “Tommy thinks I’m using the one upstairs, everyone’s outside.”

You don’t need him to explain to know what he’s implying. But, for him to want you here–now? That was different. You hate how it made your heart skip, realizing how willing he was to risk this bond of secrecy because he just couldn’t get you out of his head.

His glass slides against the countertop, the soft scuff of his boots grazing the floor as he moves in behind you, causing you to pull away slightly as he raises a hand, brushing your strap down your shoulder and mouthing the skin there, “You’re drunk.” You muse, earning a subtle shake of his head.

“Not at all,” Joel denies, “can’t be in a good mood?”

You sigh at his touch, opposite hand grazing under your dress and over the skin of your stomach, pinky finger grazing the hem of your underwear.

“When are you ever?”

Joel ignores your snark, “Don’t act like you don’t want it, sweetheart.”

He can feel the heat radiating off your body, the wetness that coats his finger as he dips it under the fabric and down the center of your cunt, “Joel,” You stress, “there’s people outside, we can’t.”

“Don’t worry about that,” He says softly, “Ellie’s gone home, Tommy and Maria are busy with a neighbor–if you want me to stop, tell me. You don’t need to make excuses.”

Your silence is all the answer he needs.

“Been needin’ this all day,” He admits, cupping your mound roughly, shifting to press the hard line of his chest against your back, pulling you taut, his idle fingers playing with the soft material of your dress, “This is cute–it’s a nice dress.”

You roll your eyes, though fondly. He can’t see it, face buried into your neck as he mouths along the skin, slipping the straps of your dress down until your tits spring free, nipples pebbling under the cool air.

“Are we talking or fucking?” You ask impatiently, pointedly rubbing your ass back against his body, earning a dark chuckle in response.

“I never said anything about fucking,” Joel points out smugly, “but since you’re askin.”

It’s the impatiences that brings you to take matters into your own hands, sliding your dress up high enough that Joel can yank your underwear down, undoing his pants with one hand and freeing himself hastily, sliding into you roughly, forcing a strained gasp from your throat. 

Joel shushes you, covering your mouth with his hand.

“Careful, these walls ain’t soundproof.” He warns, his forceful thrusts plunging you forward, eyes dragging toward the mirror image of you and him, a sight to see as he smirks from behind, admiring you openly. “Look at you.”

He grin’s devilishly, your senses overwhelmed, showing through your eyes as you squeezed them shut, only to be forced back open by Joel’s coaxing voice.

He clicks his tongue in warning, breath hot against your ear. “Open those eyes, sweetheart. Need you to see how good you’re takin’ my cock,” You whine into his hand, his brutal thrust driving you further into the countertop, ignoring the pain that spreads, overtaken by the insatiable need to come, “and how pretty you look when you come.”

Pretty. He’s never used that word before. It sends a flutter through your chest, down to your core.

It’s more intense this way, the subtle pull in Joel’s face when he drives deeper, his own orgasm on the horizon. His teeth grit hard, small peaks of it as he bares his lips back in a growl, squeezing at the soft planes of your body that he could reach, driving you over the edge with little warning, not that you needed the help. 

Seeing him this way was enough. God, was it enough.

“Fuck, fuck—“ He curses a symphony, holding himself back as he gripped at the base of his shaft and you jump at the opportunity, turning to him in a haze and sinking to your knees despite the cold floor beneath you, urging him with a silent plea as you open your mouth to him, nodding subtly.

That’s all it takes for him, a few quick strokes of his cock and he’s spilling into your mouth, head hung back at how intensely it hits him, the skin of his neck straining over the muscle, his mouth open in a soundless grunt. 

*

Luckily, Joel is the one that takes care of the goodbyes. You wouldn’t be able to face Tommy or Maria after such an instance, adjusting yourself back to a semi-presentable state in the bathroom, with some of Joel’s help as he sets your dress back over your shoulders.

It shouldn’t feel endearing, not in this context. But, it does.

“Wait for me out front,” He tells you, buckling his pants, eyes connecting with yours briefly, squinting curiously, he reaches a hand forward and wiping a mix of spit and what you can only assume is his come, away from your mouth and onto his jeans, “—you had a little…”

You both laugh at the unspoken, rubbing a tired hand over your face as you nod, shoving him away playfully.

Things are vastly different when you’re facing him on your doorstep now, his lingering presence a hint at what he didn’t have the courage to ask.

“Stay for a while?” You suggest softly, nodding toward your front door.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Joel agrees.

You never realize how much Joel likes to talk about music until he’s finally found himself relaxed, your body reclined into his open, outstretched legs as he adjusts himself sideways. It doesn’t feel intimate, no—but it feels different. Joel rests a hand over your shoulder, massaging the tight muscle with a steady grip. His voice is nice, soothing.

You fall asleep like this, but Joel is already gone by morning.

By June, things are confusing. Good, but…confusing.

Joel and you have a routine by now—off days were usually spent at your house, occasionally Joel’s (but rarely) and only when Ellie wasn’t around, the days that were spent patrolling were fairly normal, aside from the insistent touching you both allowed yourself now, always leading to something neither of you could be bothered to stop. 

Joel’s vocal about things now—what he likes, what he wants, but he’s also holding back. You can see it when things get a little too intense, hands grabbing at clothes, pulling each other in with a rabidness that neither of you could calm.

He doesn’t kiss you, not really. He likes to nip and bite and leave bruises where only he can see them, but he won’t allow his eyes to linger on your face for too long, your lips, too afraid things might be misconstrued.

Not that it mattered, Joel was already fucked beyond repair. He’s only ever felt this intensely once, before—his relationship with Sarah’s mom was a fling that turned into something more, but ultimately fizzled, crashed and burned. It gave him Sarah, but he never understood what heartbreak was until then, young and naive and wanting to make things work.

Clearly, they never did.

He feels that with you, though he’s smarter now. He can be cold and distant when he feels that pull in his chest, push away just enough that you won’t pry. But, you’re smart—you’re stubborn, so goddamn stubborn. 

And he knows eventually, things are going to implode.

He just didn’t expect it to happen like this. 

You were starting to hate the lodge, finding yourself lingering to the connecting shops down the road—a guitar store that Joel and Tommy picked through often, a small coffee shop further down the way that didn’t have much left for picking, but it helped when you felt cooped up, a nice change of scenery.

But even then, the lodge wasn't a luxury to patrol anymore. Summer is practically unbearable most days there, the building always too warm, too stuffy.

Joel had other ideas this time around, stripping you down slowly by the couch nestled against the large window that overlooked the rest of the small town surrounding it.

It was quiet here.

Joel presses you into the soft velvet cushion, his own body stripped bare, a combat to the heat, he says.

You didn’t mind. In fact, it was everything you wanted. 

He’s never allowed such contact, all of you against him, the slow push of his hips inside of you has you gasping softly, fingers gripping his biceps. His place is slow, dreadful, and you both are already sweating, skin sticky and damp.

Joel doesn’t seem to mind.

He seems needier today, more willing to let the sounds slip from his mouth, his hands more curious, pulling your knee tight around his hip and gripping at the knee, head tilting up as he huffed through his nose, tense jaw, teeth clenched. He’s looking off distantly, not at you or your body, or anywhere in your vicinity really, but the torture on his face is all the same. He couldn’t hide it.

You moan softly, mumbling soft praises under your breath when he fucks into you hard enough it has you clawing at his chest, gripping tight at his shoulder, seeking whatever skin you could touch. 

Eventually, your touch lingers near his face, palm spreading over his warm cheek, thumb running along the strong hook of his nose, forcing his attention down toward you. Your fingertips graze his lips gently, other hand mirror the action as you caress his face, his eyes closing under your touch. 

The arm holding him upright nearly gives you, barely catching himself as his chest is pressed in tight against yours, changing the angle immensely.

That couldn't have been you’re doing—not a chance. But, you’re curious. You guide his face to your chest, his mouth sliding lazily against the skin as he pumps into you steadily. You meet his rough grunts with whispered praises, his breath becoming more frantic as time goes on until he’s finally chancing a look your way, eyes soft and pleading. He looks lost. You frown slightly, guiding his face toward yours and ghosting your own lips against his, never quite indulging, keeping the praises going with a soft whisper.

“God, you always fuck me so good,” You say in a breathy whisper against his lips, “so good, Joel.”

Joel squeezes you tighter, a sign of his impending orgasm. “Right there,” You sigh, “fuck—you feel that? Need this all the time, everyday.”

This. Him.

“Sweetheart—“ He warns, grunting into your open mouth, knees buckling as you slide your tongue against his teeth, grazing his top lip.

“Don’t—don't,” You panic, eyes connecting with him suddenly, “wanna feel you, all of you.”

It was something Joel could reflect on later, consider the consequences, because now was not that time—not with you looking at him so earnestly, pleading with him.

He slips a calculated hand between your joined bodies and has you both hanging over the edge in seconds, gasping into each other’s mouth in desperation as Joel does something completely selfish and unlike him.

He kisses you, no qualms or hesitation. It’s messy and wet but it’s him—his mouth soothes the ache as your orgasm overwhelms your body, his own chest rattling at the force, moaning pathetically against your mouth as he comes in hot, warm pulses inside of you, cunt clenching around him tight, like a glove. 

Joel soon slumps against your body, all energy drained from him, your hands weaving through his hair gently, caressing the soft spot behind his ear.

He doesn’t complain, letting you hold him until his cock softens, pulling out of you with a disgruntled noise before he’s resting on the cushion beside you, back pressed tight against one side to make room for the both of you, tilting himself sideways and letting his fingers drift over your naked frame, indulging in every part of you. 

“Should we talk about this?” You ask curiously, voice softened under his gaze, his fist pressed to his cheek.

There it was.

Joel looks down briefly, his touch stalling over the spot between your breasts, right over your heart.

“I’m not even sure what this is,” Joel admits, the most honest he’s ever been with anyone, “just that—I enjoy it.”

He's being honest, he's letting you in. Your heart soars.

Joel was tired of fighting it. He'd be ignorant to think you didn't see it just then or even before.

“I would classify it as fucking,” You joke lightly, “but that—that didn’t feel like fucking to me.”

Joel shakes his head, “No—it didn’t.” He agrees, grabbing for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, spreading it gently over your frame despite the heat, finger fingers grazing along the underside of your breasts, a teasing touch that has you giggling in response, his own laugh following.

It’s a beautiful sound.

“Or we don’t have to figure it out at all,” You suggest, realizing that trying to force something out of Joel was not the way to go, it never had been—he’d come to whatever conclusion he felt on his own, “that’s okay, too.”

“We can save it for another day,” Joel promises, his fingers tracing up toward your jaw, his palm resting to cup your cheek, a tender gesture that’s all new, “right now, I just wanna quiet that pretty little mouth of yours.”

He sees your eyes light up with intrigue, already tilting toward him eagerly.

“You want that?” He teases, earning an eager nod in response before he’s closing his mouth over yours again, kissing with a leisureliness he didn’t have before, “Answer me, sweetheart?”

“I’ll take whatever you give me, Joel.”

And it terrified Joel, because he’d give you anything.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 19

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, slight angst, cursing, fluffffffff

Chris’ POV

It was nearly 3 pm, and I’d only been awake for about an hour. Sleep didn’t come easy, not with everything circling in my head, Vince’s message, Y/n’s ultimatum, the danger Nate was in, and the weight of everything else. Vince’s response had come through a little after 12pm, while both Y/n and I were asleep.

"Not around tonight, kid. Tomorrow at the docks. 6 pm."

I’d stared at that message for longer than I cared to admit. Part of me had hoped Vince would meet me tonight, get this over with so I could show Y/n I was serious. But of course, nothing in this life ever worked that smoothly.

Still, I’d tell her the moment she woke up. I’d show her the message to prove I wasn’t stalling or dragging my feet. I wanted her to see I was committed to this, to us.

I glanced over at her, still curled up against me, her breathing soft and steady. She looked peaceful, almost serene, and it made me wish I could freeze this moment. But I knew as soon as she woke up, we’d have to dive right back into the chaos.

While she slept, I lay there thinking. Vince’s delay meant I had time, time to make things right in a different way. An idea had sparked in my mind as I scrolled aimlessly on my phone earlier. What if Y/n and I left Boston for the night? Got out of the city, out of the tension, and found some peace somewhere else, even if it was just temporary?

I opened the Airbnb app and started searching. Cape Cod seemed like the perfect spot, far enough to feel like an escape but close enough to get back if something came up. After a few minutes of scrolling, I found it, a beautiful villa near Long Pond. Modern but cozy, surrounded by trees, with a porch overlooking the water. It was available for the night, and I didn’t think twice before booking it.

Next, I looked into car rentals. My car was still out of action, but I found a place downtown that had a sleek SUV I could pick up by late afternoon. Everything was falling into place, now, I just needed Y/n to agree to it.

The thought of seeing her relax, even for a little while, made me feel lighter. We both needed this, time to reconnect without the weight of everything weighing us down.

Within the next 10 minutes, she started to stir. I felt her shift against me, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she slowly woke up.

“Morning..again” I said gently, even though it was already afternoon.

She blinked up at me, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “What time is it?”

“Just after three” I replied. “I let you sleep. You needed it.”

She sat up slightly, brushing her hair out of her face. “Three?” she said, her voice filled with mild disbelief. “I never nap that long.”

“You needed it” I repeated, offering her a small smile. “Feeling any better?”

“A little” she admitted, though I could still see the weight of last night lingering in her eyes.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand. “Vince got back to me earlier on” I said, opening the message thread and handing her the screen.

She took the phone and read his response. “Tomorrow” she said quietly.

“Six at the docks” I confirmed. “I wanted you to see it. I didn’t want you thinking I was bullshitting you.”

She nodded, handing the phone back to me. “Thank you” she said softly.

I hesitated, searching her face. “There’s something else I wanted to ask you” I said.

Her brow furrowed slightly. “What is it?”

“I was thinking.. maybe we could get out of Boston for the night. Just you and me” I said, gauging her reaction. “I found this place in Cape Cod. It’s near Long Pond – A villa. I already booked it but I can cancel if you want.. and I rented a car for us. We could leave in a couple of hours and be back tomorrow afternoon before the meeting.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Cape Cod?” she echoed.

“Yeah” I said, nodding. “I thought it might be good for us to get away for a bit. No distractions, no tension, just us.”

She didn’t respond right away, and I could see her mind turning over the idea.

“I know it’s a lot” I added, “but I just.. I want to give you something good. After everything, you deserve it.”

She looked at me, her expression softening. “You really think we can just.. leave?”

“For the night yeah” I said. “Everything else will still be here when we get back. But maybe, for a few hours, we can forget about it all. What do you think?”

She hesitated for a moment longer before finally nodding. “Okay” she said quietly.

A smile spread across my face, relief washing over me. “Okay” I repeated, already grabbing my phone to confirm the car rental.

“Thank you, Chris” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I glanced at her, catching the faint smile on her lips. “Thank me after we get there” I said, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sliver of hope. Maybe we couldn’t fix everything in one night, but we could start.

Y/n’s POV

Chris’s idea to escape for the night had caught me completely off guard, but the more I thought about it, the more it felt like exactly what I needed. A break from the suffocating weight of everything going on, a moment to breathe and just be with him.

As he finished explaining the plan, I nodded. “Okay” I said softly. “Let’s do it.”

Chris’s face lit up, and he immediately grabbed his phone. “I’ll get an Uber to the rental place now” he said. “Pack a bag for the night, I’ll get mine and I’ll come straight back for you.”

“Okay” I replied, already making a mental list of what to bring.

He leaned in to kiss me gently on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon” he said before heading to my balcony door out of habit. “You can go out the front door now you know” I laughed.

“I like this way” Chris turns and smirks at me, closing the balcony door behind him. I watch him through the glass balcony door, climbing across into the treehouse. The fairy lights still in there flick on and off three times. Chris popped his head out and gave me a small smile before climbing down to ground level.

Once he was gone, I stood there for a moment, processing everything. The idea of leaving felt a little surreal, but I shook off the hesitation and moved to my closet. I grabbed a small overnight bag and started packing the essentials: pyjamas, a change of clothes, toiletries, and my phone charger. I hesitated for a moment before adding a sweater, Cape Cod could get chilly at night.

As I zipped up the bag, I realized I should probably let my parents know I’d be away for the night. She’d left a note earlier saying she’d be out for the day, but I didn’t want her worrying if she came home and I wasn’t there.

I grabbed my phone and dialed her number. It rang a few times before she answered.

“Hi, sweetheart” she said, her voice cheerful.

“Hi, Mom” I replied. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be away for the night. Chris and I are going to Cape Cod. Just for a little getaway.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke again. “Oh, that’s lovely, honey! You two deserve some time to yourselves. But it looks like I won’t see you for a week, then.”

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your dad and I decided to book a last minute trip” she said, her tone a mix of excitement and nonchalance. “A bridal convention came up in Cuba, and we thought we’d turn it into a bit of a holiday. We fly out early tomorrow morning.”

“Cuba?” I repeated, still trying to wrap my head around it.

“Yes” she confirmed. “We’ll be gone for a week. I was going to tell you at dinner tonight, but I guess this works too.”

“Oh” I said, unsure how else to respond. “Well, have a great trip, then.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You have fun with Chris, okay? And make sure the studio stays a float while I’m gone!”

“I will” I assured her.

After we hung up, I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment. Mom and Dad in Cuba? That was unexpected, but I supposed it didn’t really matter. I’d have the house to myself for the week, which was rare.

I finished packing my bag, lost in a day dream until the sound of a car pulling up outside snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced out the window and saw Chris parked outside in the rental car.

I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs to meet him. Whatever this night away held, I hoped it would be the reset we both desperately needed.

Chris opened the passenger door for me with a small smile, taking my bag and tossing it gently into the backseat before I got in. The rental car smelled like fresh leather, and the interior was pristine, not too far off his usual car. I buckled in, glancing over as he settled into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel confidently.

As we pulled away from my house, Chris glanced at me with a grin. “I’ve got you some snacks for the trip. They’re in the back seat” he said, nodding toward the rear.

I twisted around and spotted a paper bag filled with goodies. Curiosity piqued, I reached for it, pulling it onto my lap. Inside, there were all my favorites: a bag of salt and vinegar chips, a chocolate bar, a can of Fanta, and even a small bag of gummy bears.

I laughed softly. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“Had to” he replied, a playful smirk on his lips. “Can’t have you complaining about being hungry halfway there.”

I unwrapped the chocolate bar and broke off a piece, popping it into my mouth. “I wasn’t going to complain” I teased. “But this definitely earns you some bonus points.”

Chris chuckled, his eyes flicking toward me briefly before returning to the road. “Good to know I’m earning points.”

The car hummed softly as we merged onto the highway, the city slowly giving way to more open spaces. I leaned back in my seat, letting the scenery blur past us. The tension that had been weighing me down since last night started to lift, piece by piece.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from the car engine and the low hum of the radio playing a soft indie tune. I opened the bag of gummy bears and offered some to Chris. He plucked out a green one and popped it into his mouth without taking his eyes off the road.

“So, this villa” I said, breaking the silence. “What’s it like?”

“Nice” he said, his tone casual. “Big porch, private access to Long Pond. The pictures made it look cozy, thought it’d be perfect for us.”

I smiled at the thought, imagining us sitting by the water, the world finally feeling quiet and still for a moment.

The drive stretched on, but with Chris beside me and my favorite snacks in hand, it didn’t feel long at all. By the time we reached Cape Cod, the late afternoon sun was casting golden hues over the landscape, and the tension I’d been carrying felt like a distant memory.

The villa was stunning, much bigger than I expected. It was perched near the edge of Long Pond, its pristine white exterior glowing softly in the evening sunlight. I glanced over at Chris as he parked the car, his hands still on the wheel as he looked out at the villa with a faint smirk.

“Wow” I murmured. “This is.. a lot.”

Chris chuckled, turning off the engine. “Thought you deserved a little extra.”

We got out of the car, and I grabbed my bag as Chris walked around to join me. The air smelled fresh, carrying the faint scent of the lake and pine trees. The villa's large porch wrapped around the front, and I could already see adirondack chairs with big pillows on them, set up facing the water.

Chris unlocked the door, holding it open for me. Inside, the space was bright and airy, with high ceilings and large windows that overlooked the pond. The hardwood floors gleamed, and the furniture was modern yet cozy.

“Four bedrooms?” I laughed as I peeked into the hallway. 

Chris grinned, tossing his bag onto the couch. “Yeah, thought we could have options”

We walked through the villa, exploring every room. The kitchen was spacious, with marble countertops and state of the art appliances. The living room had a massive fireplace and a TV mounted above it. Upstairs, the master bedroom had a king sized bed, a balcony, and an en suite bathroom with a huge soaking tub.

“Alright, this is way too fancy for us” I joked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Chris leaned against the doorway, watching me with a playful glint in his eyes. “Nothing’s too fancy for you.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through me at his words.

After dropping off our bags, Chris clapped his hands together. “There’s an arcade down the road” he said. “Wanna go? Thought we could make it a little date night.”

I glanced at the clock. It was nearing 6pm, and the idea of a carefree evening sounded perfect. “Yeah, why not?”

“Good” he said, flashing me a grin. “Let’s head out.”

We left the villa and made our way to the arcade, a small, charming spot lit up with neon signs. Inside, the place was buzzing with energy, the sound of coins clinking and games chiming filling the air.

Chris exchanged a few bills for tokens and handed me half. “Let’s see if you can beat me at air hockey” he challenged, his grin widening. “Ready to lose?” he teased, his tone dripping with playful confidence.

“Lose? Oh, you’re in for it” I shot back, already eyeing the air hockey table.

We headed straight there, and Chris slid me a paddle, smirking as he dropped the puck onto the table. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I was born ready” I replied, bracing myself.

The game started off evenly matched, the puck zipping back and forth across the table as we both focused intently. Chris scored the first point, and his triumphant grin was maddening.

“Lucky shot” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Pure skill” he countered with a wink.

I leaned into the game, determined to even the score. The table’s vibrations buzzed under my palms as I deflected his shots and sent the puck flying back toward him. My persistence paid off, I managed to sneak a goal past him, and my celebration was nothing short of theatrical.

“Oh I have this one!” I declared, laughing.

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Not a chance.”

The match was intense, filled with laughter, playful banter, and a few “accidental” distractions from Chris. By the end, he edged me out with one last goal, throwing his arms up in exaggerated victory.

“Champion of the universe” he announced dramatically, pointing to himself.

“Champion of being annoying” I retorted, laughing.

Next, we moved to the skee ball lanes. I took a moment to examine my lane, plotting my strategy. Chris stood beside me, casually rolling his first ball and landing an effortless 50 point shot.

“No way” I muttered, trying not to let him psych me out.

I took my first roll and managed to land in the 40 point slot, earning a small cheer from Chris. “Alright, alright. Not bad” he teased.

The game turned into a full on competition, with each of us trying to outdo the other. Chris had a knack for the high scores, but I managed to hit the elusive 100 point slot twice, earning myself some serious bragging rights.

“Looks like I’m not the only champion around here” I said smugly, watching as Chris missed his last roll.

He shook his head with a laugh. “Beginner’s luck.”

We moved on to bowling, a tiny alley tucked into the corner of the arcade. Chris insisted on going first, confidently rolling his ball down the lane. It curved slightly and knocked down seven pins.

“Decent” I said, grabbing my ball.

My first roll was a gutter ball, much to Chris’s amusement. He didn’t even try to hide his laughter.

“I don’t have the bumpers up this shit is hard!” I said while laughing, lining up for my second roll. This time, I managed to knock down eight pins. “Comeback season” I declared with a grin.

The game was a rollercoaster of strikes, spares, and the occasional gutter ball, on my behalf. 

After bowling, Chris pulled me toward a claw machine filled with plush toys. He studied the prizes like a man on a mission, his eyes locking onto a large white teddy bear holding a red rose.

“You want it?” he asked, already feeding tokens into the machine.

I smiled. “It’s cute, but those things are rigged.”

“Not when I’m in charge” he said confidently.

I watched as he maneuvered the claw with precision, lowering it carefully over the bear. The claw gripped it tightly and began lifting, and I held my breath.

To my surprise, it made it all the way to the chute without dropping. Chris reached in, pulling out the teddy bear with a triumphant grin.

“For you” he said, handing it to me with a flourish.

I hugged the bear, unable to stop smiling. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

Chris shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

We left the arcade with our tickets redeemed, my new teddy bear in hand, and hearts lighter than they’d been in days. As we made our way back to the villa, the sun was long gone, the moon casting a glistening glow over the lake.

We stepped into the villa, the lingering excitement from the arcade still buzzing between us. I set the teddy bear on the couch, its red rose contrasting beautifully against the neutral tones of the living room. Chris stretched his arms above his head, his hoodie riding up slightly to reveal a hint of his toned stomach, before plopping onto one of the oversized armchairs.

"Alright" he said, pulling out his phone, "What’s the plan for dinner? Fancy some Uber Eats?"

I smiled, kicking off my shoes as I sat cross legged on the couch. “Honestly, carbonara sounds amazing right now. And maybe a bottle of wine wouldn’t go a miss.”

Chris chuckled, already scrolling through options. “Carbonara and wine it is. Anything else? Breadsticks? Dessert?”

I tilted my head, considering. “Breadsticks, definitely. And maybe some tiramisu if they have it.”

He nodded, his fingers flying over the screen. “Got it. You’re lucky you have me, your personal gourmet delivery expert.”

I laughed, leaning back into the cushions. “Oh, is that what you are now? Adding it to the resume?”

“Absolutely” he said with mock seriousness. “It’s a highly sought after skill. You understand how many people would love to have such qualifications?”

A few minutes later, he set his phone down on the coffee table. “Food’s ordered. Should be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Perfect” I said, stretching my legs out in front of me. “That gives us time to pick out a movie or something.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Or we could just sit out on the deck, enjoy the view for a bit while we wait.”

I glanced toward the sliding glass doors leading to the deck. “You’re right that sounds nice.”

We grabbed a couple of blankets from the linen closet and stepped out onto the deck. The air was cool, but not cold, carrying the faint scent of pine and the water. Chris draped one of the blankets over my shoulders before wrapping the other around himself.

“You know” he said, leaning on the wooden railing, “it’s kind of crazy how peaceful it is out here.”

I joined him, resting my arms on the railing as I looked out over the lake. “It’s like another world. Hard to believe it’s just an hour and a bit out of the city.”

Chris nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Makes you think, doesn’t it? About what it’d be like to live somewhere like this all the time.”

I turned to look at him, my heart tugging at the sincerity in his voice. “Would you want that?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Maybe someday. For now, though, I’m happy just being here with you.”

The warmth in his words settled over me, a quiet comfort that chased away the lingering tension from the past few days.

Before we could dive further into the conversation, the soft buzz of his phone broke the moment. He glanced at the screen and grinned. “Dinner’s here. Be right back.”

As he disappeared round the front to grab the food while I stayed on the porch deck, I noticed a heater behind us on the wall, and the gas fire pit next to the table. Chris was too distracted by trying to make everything perfect to even notice them so I decided to turn them on just for a bit of extra heat.  

As Chris came back onto the deck, his arms full with the Uber Eats bag and wine bottle, his face lit up in surprise. The orange and yellow glow from the heater and the fire pit bathed the space in a warm, cozy light.

"We have a fire pit?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"We do have a fire pit" I said, laughing. "I thought we could make the most of it and eat out here. It’s too nice not to."

He shook his head, still smiling. “You always think of everything.”

Chris set the bag on the table while I stepped inside to grab plates. On my way back, I turned on the TV mounted on the wall of the deck, connected my phone to the Spotify app, and shuffled my liked songs.

“This is a vibe” Chris said, nodding appreciatively as he started unpacking the food.

I set the plates down and helped him dish out the carbonara, adding the breadsticks and tiramisu to the table. Chris popped the cork on the wine bottle and poured us each a glass, the flickering light from the fire pit reflecting in the deep white liquid.

We sat down, the heater above us keeping the cool night air at bay. The sound of the lake lapping against the shore mixed with the music, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

“This is really nice” I said, taking a bite of my carbonara. The creamy, rich sauce was exactly what I’d been craving.

Chris leaned back in his chair, his plate nearly empty already. “It’s perfect. I’m glad we came here.”

I looked at him, the golden light from the fire illuminating his features. He seemed more relaxed, the usual tension in his shoulders gone for the moment.

As the last bite of carbonara disappeared from my plate, the opening chords of Strangers in the Night by Frank Sinatra filled the air, smooth and timeless. My heart skipped a beat as the familiar melody swirled around us.

“Oh, I love this song” I said, the words slipping out before I could think. It had always been one of my favorites.

I leaned back in my chair, letting the music wash over me. “I want this to be my first dance song at my wedding” I added, almost wistfully.

Chris, who had been slowly finishing his wine, looked at me with a soft smile. “First dance, huh?” he repeated, as if savoring the thought.

Without another word, he stood up, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand stretched out toward me. “Dance with me.”

I blinked in surprise, my pulse quickening. "Here? Now?"

Chris nodded, the smile on his face playful but sincere. “Why not?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Okay” I said, standing and placing my hand in his.

He gently pulled me toward him, guiding me to the center of the deck where the soft glow of the fire pit illuminated the space around us. The cool night air seemed to soften, like the world around us faded into the background as the song played on.

His hands settled on my waist, and mine naturally rested on his shoulders. We swayed to the music, the sound of Sinatra’s voice filling the space between us. There was something intimate about the moment, about the way he held me close, as though we were the only two people in the world.

“I really want to marry you one day, Y/n” Chris whispered in my ear, his voice steady but filled with raw emotion. “It feels so right.”

His words hung in the air between us, and I couldn’t help the way my heart swelled in response. It was like every doubt, every fear I had felt about the future, about us, suddenly melted away. There was something about this moment, the way he held me, the way he spoke so honestly, that made everything feel certain.

I pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all I saw was sincerity. His hands remained on my back, steady and sure, and I could feel the weight of his words, the truth in them.

“I-” I started, but my voice caught. My chest felt tight, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me felt like I should say something grand, something that matched the enormity of what he’d just shared, but the truth was, I was overwhelmed in the best possible way.

Instead, I just smiled, letting my heart speak for me as I reached up and kissed him softly on the lips. It was simple, but it was everything.

“Me too” I whispered when I pulled away. “It feels right.”

Chris leaned in, his hand still cradling my cheek as his lips met mine. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was the kind that made the world fall away, leaving only the two of us. His other arm wrapped securely around my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t bear for there to be even an inch of space between us.

I melted into him, my hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was the kind of kiss that spoke a thousand unsaid words, every emotion pouring out in the simplest but most profound way.

When we finally pulled back, our foreheads rested against each other, and I opened my eyes to find his already gazing into mine. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting every feature I adored. His eyes held a softness I rarely saw, a vulnerability that made my heart ache in the best way.

“I’m in love with you” Chris said, his voice barely above a whisper, but each word landed with the weight of something undeniable.

My breath hitched, the sincerity in his tone sent butterflies swirling in my stomach. I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming rush of happiness and love.

“I’m in love with you too” I replied, my voice trembling slightly as I smiled at him. “So much.”

Chris’s lips curved into that lopsided smile I adored, and he brushed a thumb over my cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped. “You don’t know how happy that makes me” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

We stood there for a moment longer, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the weight of our words settle. The fire crackled softly in the background, Strangers in the Night played on, the timeless melody floating around us as we held each other, the worries of the past days melting away.

In that moment, everything felt perfect. Nothing else mattered, not the chaos waiting for us back in Boston, not the uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring. It was just us, standing under the stars, wrapped in the kind of love that made the world feel small and infinite all at once.

a/n: THEYRE SO CUTE I CAAAAAANT . If you've never heard this song before please listen so you get the full feels!!! Part 20 tomorrow. (Hopefully 6pm GMT)

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe @sturnslutz @2prcntmilkluvr

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy | 4. A Mistake

Summary: Y/n goes to an event with Leo for Valentine's Day and Harry's upset. Hurt feelings lead to a messy fallout.

Note: This is stepmon!reader x stepson!harry - both are adults in this story but don't read if you don't like it.

Word Count: 12,565

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, inappropriate & forbidden relationship, age gap, cheating, lying, angst

A Good Boy Masterlist

“M’not ready to leave,” Harry’s words were muffled as he spoke with his face smushed into the soft part of Y/n’s inner thigh. “I can skip my first class. I can skip them all.”

She laughed. He was adorable with wild curls and flushed cheeks. She almost gave in. Told him to just stay with her all afternoon and she’d skip tennis practice. They could finish off all those strawberries they bought on Saturday at the farmer’s market. But she knew better. And so did he. Their weekend had been nothing short of spicy and fun.

“You can’t skip your classes, Harry. As much as I’d love to laze here with you all morning we can’t.”

He sighed and laid his chin over the top of her thigh as he looked up at her. He’d woken her up like that. Nuzzled in between her thighs and softly licking her awake. He refused to go harder or faster so his slow, lazy tongue up and down her labia drove her mad. She got everything wet as he continued gently eating her out. He wanted to be extra gentle with her because he’d fucked her extra hard the night before. At her request. He made her come and then he pounded into her, biting into his lip hard, breaking the skin as he thrust into her harshly, stretching her out with every brutal thrust. He was getting a little better at holding off his orgasm. Though, last night he did have to keep pulling out to catch his breath. She was sighing and moaning and slick for him. And when she finally did come she was shaking and mumbling so loudly Harry had to laugh but then was abruptly interrupted by his own orgasm.

And so in the morning, he went easy. Delicate strokes with his tongue slipping through her crease and over her clit. She did ask him to go faster, harder, anything. But he shook his head with his eyes on hers and just continued lapping up her sweet, slippery, arousal. He wanted to make it last as long as possible. Didn’t want to rush her to her orgasm. Didn’t want it to be over because that meant it would be time for him to leave.

“When can I see you again?” He asked as he kneaded the underpart of her thigh softly.

“I’ll think of something. We’ll make it work. “

.           .           .

Tennis practice was more difficult than Y/n imagined. Her whole weekend had been full of Harry, which meant a lot of sex. And that meant she was a little sore in some spots so she wasn’t quite on her game. But the reminder of why she was feeling sluggish only made her smile.

And if it hadn’t been for the lack of actual sleep perhaps her body would have been more willing to work harder during practice. But being next to Harry in bed was akin to sitting at a table with her favorite dish plated and made just for her. With no one around to tell her not to taste or dig in. It was impossible to resist.

So they’d wake in the middle of the night or during a nap and slip together until they were satisfied. Hours of sleep were lost for Y/n over the weekend but she wasn’t upset about it all.

She realized that just the thought of him made her heart skip a beat. The smile that worked its way over her features and the tingle of excitement and the thrill of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time pulled her through the few following days she didn’t get to see her Harry.

The Valentine’s Day party was on a Friday but Y/n wanted to see Harry so badly she could taste it. It had only been three days since she’d seen him but three days had her longing for him in a way she hadn’t expected.

Harry was doing his best to keep his thoughts from entering into the depths of the truth of what they were doing. Tried not wondering if Y/n had slept with his dad since he’d returned from the Hamptons. Tried not imagining how pretty she’d look at a Valentine’s Day party and what might happen later that night. But sometimes the mind wasn’t kind. And Harry could not stop imagining that she was naked and doing things to his dad that she’d done to him.

And when she called him as he was in the middle of letting his thoughts spiral the burst of hope that filled his muscles and his veins made his dimples dig into his cheeks as he answered.

“I was thinking I could come over tonight. To you. Do you think I could be sneaked in?”

He hadn’t expected her to ask to see him. He was sure she was doing fine without seeing him. Figured that while he was plucking the worst images from his tortured mind, she was off shopping and laughing with her friends. He knew she wasn’t that shallow, of course. It’s just that his thoughts weren’t allowing him any grace.

“Yeah. Definitely. Should be easy.”

It was easy. Harry was on the first floor and he was lucky enough to have his own room. She was able to walk right in without anyone spotting her. Not that most of the guys there would even know who she was.

There was no time for talk the moment the door was closed behind Harry. He pulled at her t-shirt and wrapped her in his arms and captured her lips in his.

She dropped her little bag onto the floor and moved her arms up and over his shoulders as she let him kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in months. That’s kind of how it felt. She’d missed his sweetness and his eagerness. Missed him.

“Mmmm… Harry… baby...” She whispered as he moved his lips down to her neck. “I missed you. God I just needed to see you so bad.”

Harry moaned as he dragged his mouth over her skin and up to her jaw, “I just need you so bad.” He was shaking to have her in his arms and in his room.

When he brought his mouth back to hers his hips pressed against her and she moved her hand down to his sweatpants and dipped a finger under the elastic band to feel his happy trail under her nails. He whined into her mouth and she smiled.

She had wanted to give him a blow job so badly all day. Which was unusual for her. She didn’t mind giving blow jobs but with Harry, the way he’d moan and whimper and beg her… she just loved how responsive he was to her.

“Let me suck you off. I want you in my mouth.” It was all she could think about when she drove across the city to go to him.

Harry’s chest was on fire and his heart was ravaging his ribs as she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She spit on his tip and took him down her throat and focused her eyes up to him.

“Fuck, Y/n. I’m gonna come so fast. I’m sorry…” he frowned as he whined his words and carded his fingers into her hair. She bobbed up and down, slippery and warm on his cock, sucking and using her tongue to circle and slither over his skin the way he loved.

She just needed to show him how she was feeling. How much she missed him. Harry was so much more vocal than she was about how he felt and how much he needed her when they spoke on the phone. She kept her feelings a little closer to her heart. Not revealing as much but giving him bits and pieces. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him too but she also wanted to do the right thing in guarding his heart.

Of course, doing the right thing, well, they were way past that, she reasoned as she dipped down over him further and tasted the precome pushing out through his slit. They were so far beyond doing the right thing it shouldn’t have mattered. But she did want to protect him in some way and by not revealing that she missed him just as much as he missed her she thought he might be able to deal with the distance better.

In truth, she had no idea what she was doing. She’d never done anything like it before. She just hoped that at the end of whatever they were doing, they’d both be okay.

Harry groaned as he rolled his hips gently into her, his pink lips dropped open watching her mouth stretch around him, drool dripping down her neck, her eyes blinking up at him.

“Please… oh my god…” Harry gasped when she brought her lips up and suckled his tip, her tongue swirling and lapping just under his frenulum.

He came so fast it was embarrassing. She always did it to him. Always had him shaking and giving in to her so quickly. He didn’t know how she did it. Not even fucking his own hand was as quick. He was convinced it was some kind of sorcery she used on him but he knew what it was. He knew that she just did it for him like no one else did. He’d watched porn with hot women but none came close to how hot he thought Y/n was. No girl he’d ever met and dated or did anything sexual with at all did it for him the way Y/n did it for him. Her voice and her eyes and her confidence. He’d never been in love but if he were to fall for someone, if he wasn’t already, it would be for her.

Harry choked out a moan and his knees buckled the slightest as he throbbed and pumped hot come down her throat. She slurped and sucked it all down with her hands holding onto his ass, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck!” He shouted when she pulled on his cock particularly hard to milk the last drop from him and then he laughed, his chest heaving.

A heavy knock cracked on his door, “All right in there Styles?” A male’s voice teased from behind the door.

Harry took a deep breath as Y/n pulled her lips off of his cock, “Fine. Thanks.” Harry shouted, not taking his eyes off his lover.

The pair lay in Harry’s full-sized bed with the radio on chatting about nothing. Harry had his arms wrapped around her middle with his head on her hip. He was like a big teddy bear that constantly wanted to be held and near to her. He just wanted to touch her and look at her. She loved how warm and touchy he was. Loved that he needed to physically be next to her when they were together.

“Tomorrow’s the party?” He hesitated to ask but couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Got fitted for my dress earlier today. What did you do today, Harry?” It seemed like every time they were alone together and having a conversation they were lying and assembled jointly in one way or another with Harry squeezing her tight while she combed her fingers through his hair. It was maybe the best feeling she’d ever had with a lover. Ever. It was gentle and kind. Loving. Like there was no rush or reason to do anything other than to look at one another and be near to one another. Touching, smiling, kissing.

Harry had one class only and he finished an assignment due on Monday so he was ahead of schedule. The studious young man that he was.

“Hate that we can’t celebrate Valentine’s Day together,” Harry lifted himself to sit up, causing Y/n’s hands to fall away from his hair. His sudden change in demeanor had caught her off guard.

She pulled at his hand and sat up, “I know. I hate it too, Harry.”

“Do you hate it? Or are you just saying that so I feel better about all this?”

She squinted her eyes at him and shook her head, “What do you mean by that? Of course, I wish we could spend it together.”

Harry stood up from the bed and walked to his small kitchenette to grab a bottle of water, uncapping the lid and chugging a big gulp before turning and lifting the bottle, “Want some water?”

Y/n climbed off the bed and slowly walked toward Harry. Not understanding the mood change, “No. I’m okay right now. Thank you. But please continue with the previous thought. Explain what’s going on in your head.”

“I’m just…” he shook his head and sighed and walked past her to sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know. I know what this is. You and me. But feels like it’s just me who really wants more. Feels like, you’re doing just fine. You know?” He looked up at her as she followed him to where he was sat on the bed.

“No. I don’t know. You think I’m not just as excited to see you as you are me?” She stepped herself in between his legs and brushed her fingers over his forehead and into his hair. Perhaps she should start being more open with him about her feelings. But then again, that could make things even worse in the long run.

“No,” he laughed incredulously. “I don’t think you are. You don’t understand how I feel. How much I want you. And it’s not fair for me to feel this way because I knew all along what this was. But I can’t help it.”

Pausing her hand in his hair, she pulled her fingers out and nudged at his chin so he’d look up at her, “Where’s this coming from? You know how much I like you, Harry. You’re all I can think about.”

He searched her pretty face as she stood over him and shook his head, “You don’t understand how I feel. You don’t feel the same way I feel for you.”

She stepped away and rubbed her hands down her face. She couldn’t force him to believe her but she was sure she was feeling just the way he was. The intense longing she felt for him for the last three days told her as much.

“What do you want me to do, Harry? Should I leave, Leo? You and me, we can just run off into the sunset and never turn back? Will that prove to you how I feel?”

Harry stood up and paced from the kitchenette to his window and back, “You won’t though. I know it. You won’t leave my dad. You don’t have the balls to do that. You need his money and that big house and that huge ring you’re wearing…”

Y/n looked down at her wedding ring and felt a blanket of shame cover her body and pool around her feet as he continued.

“You wouldn’t do that because if you do that then you’ll be stuck with a boy. I can’t provide for you and buy you a nice car or take you on lavish vacations. I can’t compete with my dad on any level.”

Shaking her head as he spoke she was feeling insulted. A bit angry. But she knew he was speaking from a place of hurt.

“Harry…” she approached him and put her palms over his chest and looked up at him, “Stop. I’m here with you because my feelings for you are far greater than I can really even comprehend. You don’t need to compete with Leo or anyone. You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met. You can choose not to believe me but I’m here with you because I couldn’t be away from you a moment longer. I missed you. I needed you.”

He pulled his lips into his mouth as she spoke.

“Do you hear me? Harry I… I want to be so careful with you because you’re so special to me. I…” she sighed and looked up into his big green eyes, her hands traveling up his neck to keep his attention on her, “I want you. You’re better than your dad. To me, you are. I’ve missed being with someone I’ve felt this way for. As for your dad? I don’t feel this way. Harry, you are… god…” she started to tear up as she spoke. Unable to finish her thought as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.

“I’m sorry I said those things. I’m just so jealous and I hate this. I don’t think you’re that way. I know you’re better than that. It was rude for me to say that.” He spoke into her hair.

He felt ridiculous. Harry could be emotional. He tended to allow his sensitive nature to get the best of him at times and this was one of them. He hated that he’d insulted her the way he did but it just fell out of his mouth before he could think. He wished he could take it back.

“I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it. I know you know me better than that.”

Harry pushed his mouth to hers in haste. His emotions were too much to handle. He couldn’t talk anymore or he’d just get worked up again. He didn’t know how he was going to stay sane the following evening while Y/n was spending Valentine’s Day with another man.

His forceful kiss to her mouth was met with a pinch to her hips as he pushed her back into his bed. “Need you…” he breathed against her lips as he pulled her shirt off and she settled onto the bed and scooted back as he crawled after her, putting his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulling them down.

She wore the sweetest little lacy pink bra with a tiny bow at the center and matching panties that barely covered anything. When he caught sight of what she’d worn under her clothes he thought he could cry again. Had she done this for him?

In fact, she had. After getting fitted for her party dress she stopped at La Perla and picked out the little set. The bra didn’t give her much support but it wasn’t meant to be practical. It was meant to be sweet and pretty. She looked through the various shades and fabrics and tried on strappy pieces with black leather and soft white lace. She put on a bright red bra and thong set she wound up buying, but the pink lace with bows and delicate straps reminded her of Harry. How soft and intimate it looked. So pure and sheer but sexy. And when she put it on all she could think of was how it matched his lovely personality. His tenderness. The way he was so delicate with her and how big his heart was. It felt like what he’d pick for her if he were with her.

“Do you like it?” She smiled at him as he let his fingertips brush over the little bows at her hips and the lace along the edge and up her tummy to the bralette where her tits were spilling out the smallest bit.

“I fucking love it. Y/n,” he looked up at her with a pained face, brows scrunched, and shiny eyes. “You’re… so pretty. Prettiest woman I’ve ever seen and, god,” he pushed his thumb into the fabric that covered her breast and poked at her nipple, “More than just pretty. You’re phenomenal. In every way.”

She hadn’t expected him to give her this response. She knew he’d probably like it. Figured he’d give her some attention while she was wearing it and then he’d want it off but to see his eyes tear up was unexpected.

She cupped his cheek with her palm and spoke quietly, “I bought it for you. I’m really glad you like it.”

Harry let out a shaky breath as he caged her in, arms on either side of her waist, and then scooped her into his arms, holding her tight to him, “Fuck. You’ve got my head spinning, Y/n.”

She let him take the lead. He eventually pushed his boxers down and insisted she keep the set on while he made love to her. He said that. Love. She got hot and felt herself begin to get emotional at his words and his soft touches.

“Keep it on,” he put his hand over hers before she could push the pink fabric down her hips, “Want to make love to you while you’re in this. Show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

And show her his appreciation he did. He pulled the material to the side gently and licked at her until he was so hard it ached and he began whining, not able to handle not being inside of her any longer.

He slowly pushed her legs apart and dragged his nose and lips up from her hips to her tits and then to her neck before sneaking a hand down to keep the crotch to the side as he slowly pushed into her. Always loving and craving the initial plunge. The little muscle at her entry stretching wide open for him.

The bed in his room was squeaky. It wasn’t as sturdy as the one in his room at Leo’s house but with the way he was fucking into her slowly, long and deep strokes, there wasn’t too much of a racket. The slow bounce of the mattress springs was all that could really be heard over the radio. A few moans and soft gasps.

Harry went from watching her face as he bottomed out, stuffing himself into her as far as he could reach, to kissing her while slowly rolling his hips into her.

He could feel the lace on his shaft as he thrusted, and he enjoyed the way it irritated the smooth, velvety skin on his cock. He hoped it left a mark. One to match the mark she’d left on his heart.

“Harry…” she breathed his name as he looked deep into her eyes. It felt so intense this way with him. He was moving into her so slowly but pushing in so deep her toes curled every time his balls were tucked up to her bottom, “I need you…” she panted as she scratched her nails down his back.

He began to shake with the way his heart was pumping so hard. His mind was a blur and the wetness between them felt so warm and perfect that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to recover from the moment. She went to visit him. She wore something special just for him. She said she needed him.

And it was too much to verbalize exactly how he felt. He wasn’t quite in control of his thoughts in that moment as he kissed her mouth and plunged into her as she panted and licked her tongue against his. “Y/n… please stay with me,” his teeth were clenched as he spoke the words on accident. It was only meant to stay in his head, that statement. But it came out and he gasped when she lifted her legs to wrap around his back and pressed her heels into his ass to push him in deeper.

“I’m here with you all night, baby,” she spoke against his lip.

Harry moaned and pushed himself so he could look down at her, never ceasing his movements into her, “I mean stay with me. Be with me. Me and you,” he dipped down to kiss her again feeling the heat of ecstasy travel up his spine.

“I want to stay with you,” her words were breaths against his lips. It was the only way she knew how to respond. Because she couldn’t stay with him like he suggested and he knew that. But she could tell him that she wanted to.

The bed under her slowly gave way to their weight with Harry’s hips pressed against hers every time he bottomed out and it was giving her the perfect friction. His lips on hers and puffs of breath from his nose made her feel like she was encased in him. It was all she wanted.

“You feel so good, baby. I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come…” she whined as she felt him tremble and his hips began to roll a bit faster. She could feel that he was just as close as she was.

Harry lifted up again to look down at her, never ceasing the decadent roll of his hips, “Want to watch it. Want to see how you look when you come on my cock,” he whispered over her.

His eyes were dark with lust but the tip of his nose was red as if he’d just been crying. Perhaps he had been.

“Yes baby, yes… yes… yes…” his deep plunges through her insides and pushing her walls apart had her knocked upward over and over. He kept himself deep inside, never pulling back, only fucking into her so that his tip could get into her deep, so she could feel him inside of her tummy and pressing into all her parts, claiming them as his.

They rocked together, Harry’s thighs working himself into her slowly and deeply until her release finally snapped and she moaned loudly.

“Don’t look away, please, look at me,” Harry gasped as he felt her begin to spasm around him. She brought her gaze back to his and her orgasm exploded at the look on his face. He came the moment she looked back at him. Both of them forced themselves to keep their eyes open to watch as the other came from their connected bodies. Harry’s deep groans and raspy, breathy whines met with Y/n’s soft coos and choked moans. He was so deep inside of her, pressing himself even deeper as he poured into her, letting his come coat her insides in ownership. He wanted to make her his.

A sick and twisted little part of his brain hoped her implant wouldn’t work this time. That he could knock her up and she would have to leave Leo and then she’d be his and he could have her. Keep her.

“Fuck, baby…” she yelped when he gave her one last rough push. Wanting that little bit to just make a difference somehow.

Harry kept his eyes on hers and he watched her features relax and she smiled, bringing a hand up to his face, “You’re amazing, Harry. The best I’ve ever had.”

His grin was tranquil and flirtatious. She loved his cheek. His confidence. She also loved his softness and how sensitive he was. It was the best of both worlds and she never realized she’d need it so much in a lover.

“Yeah? I keep hearing you say that and I think I’m gonna start believing it soon.”

She laughed with her thumb at his temple, softly rubbing the skin next to his eyes, “You should just believe me when I say it. Take my word for it.”

It was true. She felt so connected to him. So deeply intertwined that she was positive there was no one better. No one who could make her feel like he did.

Y/n had told Leo she was with Gina. That she’d been at the spa with her and got waxed and ready for the party and had too many glasses of wine so she couldn’t drive home. That was her excuse as to why she couldn’t come home Thursday evening when she was spending it with his son.

And Harry didn’t have classes on Fridays so they slept in until nearly 10 am before Y/n realized she needed to go and actually get waxed otherwise Leo would realize she’d lied to him. And it was going to be a last-minute thing anywhere she could get in without an appointment so she knew she had to get going with the party starting at 5. She also still had to go pick up her dress after the final alterations were complete.

It was always the same, leaving him. He didn’t want her to go. She didn’t want to go. But it was necessary. And she left the sweet little pink set behind to keep in his room, “This is just for you to see. Not for anyone else. Okay?” She said when she put the fabric on his bed before kissing him goodbye and leaving.

.           .           .

Harry loved that Y/n came to visit him. It felt like they were a couple when they were alone together. He could see them being together. Imagined it all the time. But he knew the deal. She wasn’t his. Though, she did tell him some things that made him feel like she was at least, in part, his. But that didn’t change the reality.

He was spending Valentine’s Day by himself. He had a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon his dad got him for his birthday. He fully intended to treat the $300 bottle kindly. It was meant to be sipped slowly. Enjoyed for a special occasion. But when he thought of how Y/n was on his dad’s arm, probably at that very moment, accompanying him to a Valentine’s Day party, thought about how his dad didn’t care for her the way he did, didn’t cherish her and dream about her and stop himself in the middle of a mundane task to smile as his heart throbbed when he imagined her smile and her laugh. That his dad was fucking someone else who lived nearby and took her on a weekend away with him… How could any sane man want to be with anyone else once they had Y/n? Harry couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t fathom it.

“Fuck it,” he spoke to himself as he got up and crossed the room to pull the bottle out of the cabinet. He grabbed a glass and looked down at it before deciding he was going to just drink straight from the bottle. The highest form of disrespect for such a sought-after bourbon. A middle finger to his dad. And to the entire situation he was in really.

Placing the glass back in the cupboard he picked up the bottle at the neck and brought the 90-proof liquor with him to the small couch that sat across from his television.

Harry wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d had alcohol a good handful of times but usually at frat parties where it was provided for him. And he certainly never drank alone.

Peeling the foil off the cap and tossing it to the floor, he pulled the top and cork out of the bottle and placed it on the coffee table in front of himself.

He didn’t have anywhere to be the following morning so that was good, he figured. Better to have the morning open in case of a hangover. And he’d have all day Sunday to finish his homework.

And with that thought, he leaned forward to grab the bottle, brought the opening of the neck to his lips, and took his first pull of the evening.

.           .           .

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo had scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Waiters walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

 “Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

She blinked her eyes and looked between the pair and cocked her head, “Oh. I’m sorry. I must be mistaken. I thought Leo said…” She shook her head not wanting to finish that sentence. It dawned on her that Leo had been with their daughter. Parker. Or, at least that’s what it was starting to look like. An interesting turn of events.

And it wasn’t much longer after that small discovery that Y/n spotted her husband. He was holding a glass of wine and speaking with a couple, laughing casually and acting as if he hadn’t been missing for nearly thirty minutes.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Y/n squeezed his arm as she took her place next to him.

Leo looked down at his wife and grinned, “Oh? I’ve been around. Here and there. I did go outside for a bit to get some air.”

Liar.

As cold and closed off as Leo could be, she knew when he wasn’t being forthright with her. But she wouldn’t call him out on any of it. How could she? She’d keep the information close to her chest. Something to hang onto for another day. She was curious about Parker, though. Not sure which of the two daughters she was. She’d only met one but never got the young lady’s name as there was another woman talking Y/n’s ear off. That daughter had been quite young, though. Harry’s age. Y/n knew the other daughter was closer to Y/n’s age.

Another three glasses of wine and a slow song with some lovey-dovey lyrics had Y/n feeling a bit sentimental. She was wishing Harry was there. Wishing she could catch his eyes from across the room. Wishing she could pull him into a corner and kiss his warm mouth and run her fingers through his curls.

It wasn’t as if the party was boring or anything. Well… okay. It was quite boring. It was just a bunch of rich people in a massive house worth millions drinking expensive wine, wearing expensive clothes, and pretending to care about what was going on around them.

Y/n watched as Leo’s eyes followed a pretty brunette with a slim nose and a long neck traipse across the room toward the bar for another glass of wine. The young woman looked to be Y/n’s age. Perhaps even a little older. She was very pretty. Her dress was flattering and she had a slim waist and curvy hips. This one- this one, Y/n thought, was more Leo’s taste.

Maybe it was the four glasses of wine or maybe it was just her natural penchant to be outspoken and assertive, but she decided to introduce herself to the woman. Find out her name. Look into her eyes and determine if this woman had actually been with her husband all weekend.

Y/n wasn’t necessarily jealous. She did feel a bit betrayed though. Her husband had lied to her in some way. She knew that much. Knew that he’d been talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones as Harry told her he’d overheard his dad. Knew that a woman had chirped excitedly next to him when he’d been on the phone with her while he was in the Hamptons and that Leo sounded like he was quickly trying to think of a reason why there’d be a woman there when he mentioned the Valentine’s Day party.

Rebecca was a great cover. She was in her 50s and he thought that once Y/n laid eyes on her all her questions would be quashed and she’d forget all about it. But he hadn’t anticipated Y/n to open her mouth and mention the Hamptons to Mrs. Manera.

“Hi,” Y/n sidled up to the brunette, “I’m Y/n Styles. I don’t think we’ve met yet.” She motioned to the bartender for another glass of wine. Probably a bad idea. She would certainly feel five glasses in the morning.

The young woman gave herself away immediately as her eyes widened and she opened her mouth for a moment, searching the room quickly before returning her sights to Y/n, “Uh… oh, hi! I’m Parker Manera, Phin and Rebecca’s daughter.”

Y/n watched her nervously sit her glass down and wipe her hands down her expensive dress and then pick her glass up again before shifting on her feet with a forced smile on her face.

“Oh! You’re Parker. Your mom and dad were just telling me about how you were in the Hamptons all weekend. It’s such a small world,” she laughed lightly and placed her free hand at her hip in a show of confidence, “My husband Leo was there last weekend too. What a funny coincidence.” She smiled widely as she kept her eyes on Parker’s.

The poor thing swallowed harshly and looked down at her glass before letting her eyes dart around the room again, most likely in search of Leo, “Oh. Yeah. Uh… huh…” She took a sip of her wine and then looked at Y/n, “Yeah, that is a coincidence.”

.           .           .

Harry was trying to pay attention to his best friend as he gave him a pep talk. But it was useless. He couldn’t ever understand what Harry was going through and he had no idea that he’d been sleeping with his stepmom.

“Don’t worry man. Not every Valentine’s Day is going to be spent alone like this. You’re still young, dude!” Tyler said, trying to cheer him up. Only Tyler didn’t realize what Harry’s real issue was. He just thought Harry was depressed because he was still single and a virgin.

Harry had called Tyler and asked him to come over to share the bottle of bourbon with him. He realized early on that he would not be able to drink the whole bottle alone, nor did he want to.

“I know. Just feels shitty. You know my dad and Y/n are at a party tonight. With a bunch of other assholes probably. Sounds so boring. Would hate to spend a romantic day out with rich assholes.” Harry was only on his third glass of whisky but the stuff was strong and he was feeling the alcohol burning in his gut and winding through his veins, impairing his thoughts and his emotions.

Tyler laughed, “Yeah, but after their boring night out they can go home and shag. Unless your dad’s too old for that,” Tyler joked before taking a healthy swig and looking at the TV that was on as background noise.

Harry frowned and felt himself nearly gag at the thought. That was exactly the kind of thing he was trying not to think about, “What’s wrong with you? You’re a dick sometimes you know that?”

“Sorry. You probably don’t want to think about your dad fucking your hot stepmom do you?” He teased.

Only it wasn’t funny to Harry. Not at all. He was spiraling and he’d called his friend as a distraction yet here they were discussing a topic that was a punch to the gut and had Harry surging with jealousy and hurt.

“Shut the fuck up, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry barked and stood up from the couch to pace his room, “I fucking hate this!” He ran his hands into his hair and felt his anger peak.

“Whoa. Okay. Sorry dude. Wasn’t trying to get you upset. It was a joke.”

“Yeah? But it’s not a joke. That’s what’s gonna happen. She’s gonna go back home with my prick of a dad and fuck him. Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And that’s what couples do on Valentine’s Day.”

Tyler looked at Harry in confusion as Harry pulled at his roots and sniffed, his nose red and his eyes bloodshot, “She’s fucking him and she’s not even… Goddamnit!”

“What’s going on Harry? Are you okay?” His friend stood up, suddenly aware that Harry was not doing well at all.

“No. I’m not fucking okay,” he sighed and shook his head before looking at his friend, “I’ve… you can’t say anything to anyone, okay?” He continued pacing.

Tyler nodded, still standing up, not moving from his spot, “Of course. You know any secret you have is safe with me.”

Harry stopped his restless motions and dropped his arms by his side, “Y/n and I… we’ve been seeing each other,” he looked down before he could watch Tyler’s expression. “We’ve been sleeping together.”

Tyler’s silence indicated his shock. He had not been expecting to hear that from Harry. All the times they’d teased him about getting with her they were just kidding. No one ever thought that it would actually happen.

Harry resumed his confession, “And it’s been really good. We like each other too. My dad’s a dick. He’s sleeping with another woman. Which is allowed, but… nah… that’s a long story. I’m,” Harry looked directly back at his friend and approached the couch before plopping down heavily over the cushions, “fucking sad. I’m a mess over it.”

Tyler sat down next to his friend and nodded, “So you and Y/n. And that means you’re not a virgin? She’s the one that…” his words faded out, letting the context fill in the blanks.

Harry nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well, fuck man. I’m sorry. Here,” Tyler leaned forward and grasped the bottle, handing it to Harry, “sounds like you need some more of this.”

.           .           .

Y/n wasn’t mad. Not at all. Nor jealous. But she would keep this information tucked away for a rainy day perhaps. Or maybe it would never be brought up. It did, however, make her feel a bit less guilty for her own insolence.

And she wondered what he had been up to when he disappeared. She imagined that he’d been with Parker. Doing what exactly? Well, she had some ideas about the nature of what they were doing. In fact, part of her did hope maybe he’d gotten his needs taken care of. Hoped that he wouldn’t want anything from her that evening because she was completely satisfied with how well she’d been treated just that very morning by Harry.

That was only going to get trickier as time went on. The more time she spent with Harry, the less she wanted to spend any time with Leo. And she was still irked at him for the comment he made to her before they left for the party. She planned to use that as an excuse for not having sex with him if he tried to initiate. But excuses would dwindle eventually. She couldn’t keep pushing off sex with her husband.

She and Leo said their goodbyes as everyone began to leave the party as normal. Most people were grabbing their jackets and purses and Y/n was shaking Phineas' hand when Leo leaned into Y/n and spoke quietly, “I’ll be right back, dear. Wait for me in the car.”

Fifteen minutes. She waited for 15 minutes for her husband and she knew what he was up to. Or at least in part. And that­­­­­– that did piss her off. The disrespect of it. She shot off a quick text to Harry wishing she was with him. Wishing she could just drive her husband’s car to Harry’s dorm and stay with him for the night. Finish off her Valentine’s Day properly.

Are you awake still?

It was almost midnight and a Friday night so she assumed he would be awake but by the time Leo made it to the car, Harry still hadn’t seen the text yet.

“What were you doing, Leo?” Y/n looked at his side profile as he began to drive down the long driveway to the gate to exit.

“I had to use the bathroom,” he placed his palm over his stomach and blew out a big, dramatic breath. “Think I ate too many crab cakes.”

Another lie. But also something to bring up should he want anything intimate from her tonight. A stomachache was an automatic no for sex.

“Let me drive, then. If you’re not feeling well that could be dangerous.” She didn’t mind playing dumb.

“Oh, it’s okay. I took some Pepto Rebecca offered me and I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay. Good. That was nice of her. She was lovely to chat with. I really enjoyed the party. Phineas is also a hoot,” she exaggerated with a smiley tone. “Oh, and their daughters!” Y/n turned to watch his face as she continued, “What’s the younger one’s name again?”

“I think it’s Iris. No, Ivy. I think Ivy.” He answered as he nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.

“And then their older daughter, Piper. She was–“

“Parker.” Leo interrupted.

He took the bait and he didn’t even know it.

“What?” Y/n acted confused.

“Her name is Parker. You said Piper. I was just correcting you.”

Y/n smiled to herself, “Oh. I really thought she told me Piper. But I guess you’d know better than me.”

Leo’s body language did not change whatsoever. He was cool as a cucumber but man was he dumb. He didn’t have to act differently for her to know he was lying straight to her face. No, his answers gave him away.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Parker was really sweet. Talked about what we did last weekend. I told her all about the girls and how we go out for girl’s night every other Friday. Even invited her to come to our next one.” She lied.

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, “Why’d you do that?” He turned to glance at her before looking back to the road.

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling. She was just having a bit of fun. It was also most definitely the five glasses of wine she’d had, “Because I like her! She’s my age and I feel like we have a lot in common. Oh! And it’s so funny, Leo. You won’t believe this! She was also in the Hamptons last weekend! And it’s wild that she had no idea that her mom was there when I told her that you saw Rebecca while you were there,” she shook her head dramatically and laughed. “Crazy.”

His jaw clenched but he remained quiet. Perhaps she’d taken it a bit too far. Now maybe she’d just given away that she knew something. But she just shrugged and turned to look out the window. She couldn’t wait for her bed. She just hoped that Harry would give her a goodnight text before she went to sleep like he usually did.

But he didn’t. She showered and plugged her phone in and checked her messages and still nothing.

Y/n was thankful Leo didn’t seem interested in having sex. She silently thanked Parker for a job well done as her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

Sensing light through her eyelids, she slowly blinked her eyes open. It took a moment to climb out of her wine-induced groggy haze but when she realized it was her cellphone she quickly rolled to her side to reach for it.

“Hello?” She spoke quietly and sat up against her pillows.

“Sound so pretty,” Harry’s words were watery and disconnected. “You with my dad?”

Y/n knew right away he was drunk. She grinned and shook her head as she responded, “No. I’m in my room. Where are you?” She was just happy to hear his voice, despite him being inebriated.

“My room. Tyler’s passed out. Drank some whisky so I didn’t have to think about you and my dad fucking. Didn’t work.”

The grin fell from her face, “What? Harry, we didn’t. But–“

“Bet you did. Probably trying to just make me feel good,” his speech was difficult to understand as his tongue seemed to be getting in the way, but she could clearly interpret his bitter tone.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“So you can go back to having sex with another man?”

“Stop it, Harry. I was asleep just now. In my own room. We can talk in the morning when you’ve sobered up.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke into the receiver.

As much wine as she’d had at the party, Harry had clearly had a lot more alcohol in his system.

“F’course. Would hate to disturb you. Just a nuisance to you anyway…” his volume dropped as his words trailed off.

“You’re not a nuisance to me. It’s why I answered. Was excited to hear your voice. Now, go to sleep, Harry. Okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He actually probably would not feel better in the morning if his current state was any indicator.

The phone was silent but she could still hear him rustling around, sniffing, “Harry?”

“Y/n.” He said mockingly.

“Are you okay?” She knew she should probably just hang up but didn’t want to make things worse.

“No. I’m not.”

“I think you worry too much. You should go to sleep, baby.”

“Mmm… Sounds so nice. But I think it’s not fair is it?”

Y/n sighed and held her phone out to see what time it was before putting the receiver back to her ear, “What’s not fair?”

“You can fuck other people. You do too. You’re fucking my dad. I should go be able to fuck other people too if I want. Tyler told me I should.”

Y/n gulped down the upset and tried to keep herself level. He was drunk and not thinking straight. And the comment about Tyler had her wondering if his friend knew about their affair.

“Let’s discuss it when you’re feeling better tomorrow. You’re drunk, Harry. I don’t think this conversation will go anywhere good if we keep talking while you’re so upset.”

“Should have known. Yeah. We’ll see.”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but he’d hung up. She heard the click and then the silence of her room enveloped her completely as her phone went dark with the ended call.

It was nearly 3:30 in the morning and lying back into her bed and closing her eyes did not bring sleep like she hoped. Instead, her mind went into overdrive considering all the things Harry had said.

And he was right. He should be allowed to do as he pleased. To sleep with others. He should. It would be healthier for him. For her. What they were doing was a mistake. It wasn’t going to end well and Harry’s words rang in her head for hours.

She hated the idea of him sleeping with anyone else but that was not fair. How could she expect him to only sleep with her when she was married to his father and sleeping with him? Though she hadn’t slept with Leo since before she and Harry started their affair. Still. At some point, Leo would expect something and she’d need to give him something.

So, instead of sleeping, she wound up writing in her journal with a mug of Ceylon, hot ginger, and lemon tea. She wrote down her feelings and the things she’d tell Harry. The things that needed to be said.

They couldn’t continue on as they were. They were both going to get hurt and she didn’t want to imagine hurting Harry more than he was. She could tell this was hurting him. When she’d seen him Thursday night he expressed some hurt feelings.

And as hard as it would be, she had to break it off. Had to end their affair because they would both only get more attached. The sooner the better.

He’d hate it. He’d fight her on it, she just knew it. He’d plead with her. He’d say something that would make her waver. Make her want to just give in and let him have his way. But it wasn’t healthy. It was a relationship that could never be revealed. His father couldn’t know. And the thought of leaving her current situation to be with Harry felt ridiculous.

Yes. It was ridiculous. Because she was 27 and he had just turned 21. And he was her stepson. Ridiculous to consider leaving Leo because then what? Harry might not even feel the same way for her in six months. A year. Five years. And she’d be back to square one because leaving Leo meant leaving everything he’d given her behind. Of course, there was a prenup involved in their marriage. That had been the plan all along. She knew going into it that this was how it would be. Should they ever divorce, she gets nothing really. As it should be, she surmised. She wasn’t entitled to anything from Leo if the arrangement was called off. She would have nothing.

She had no career. No money of her own. Very few things she’d bought herself.

Her mother would just say I told you so. Which would be well deserved.

So to stop their little thing as soon as possible was better than waiting until it all blew up in their faces. She hated the thought of not being able to kiss him or chat with him about personal and private things only a lover should know. She’d miss his flirtatious banter and the little pinches he gave her skin when he wanted her attention. It would be hard to wake up every morning knowing she’d never have someone warm and kind to wake up with. His scent. His eyes. His hair. His fingers. His voice.

She scribbled her thoughts and a tear fell onto the page she was pouring her thoughts into.

She didn’t want to do it. She wanted to keep him and have him to herself. Enjoy the secret, private relationship that had maybe been the best she’d ever had. But that was the part that needed to come to an end. Their secret affair would be exposed or Harry would get hurt (and so would she). He was already hurting. It was already hard and they hadn’t been at it for that long. She imagined the longer they continued the worse it would be for Harry. His soft heart would continue to break in front of her and their whole relationship would be based around the sadness and the turmoil and the secrets. It was healthy for no one.

When the pale light from the sun began to stretch into her room she put her journal down and texted Marla. It was early. Maybe a bit too early, even for Marla.

But she needed someone to talk to. Someone to help her straighten out her mind. She was feeling selfish, angry, hurt, and most of all, her heart was being squeezed with a vice in her chest and it was hard to breathe. Hard to think straight.

When you wake up will you please call me?

Her tea was barely touched. It had gone cold and because she forgot to pull the bag out it had also turned bitter. She winced at the taste and placed the mug down on her side table. That seemed to be an appropriate illustration of how her life was going at the moment. She hadn’t taken care to make sure the tea was tasty and done correctly and now it couldn’t be salvaged. A perfectly fine cup of tea to waste.

Y/n felt her phone vibrate and she plucked it up quickly to answer. It was Marla.

“Morning. Thank you for calling me.”

“Of course. Everything okay?”

Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to begin crying again, “Not really. Went to a party with Leo last night. Learned he’s been seeing another woman my age, though the issue is that he brought her to the Hamptons last weekend and lied to me about it. Told me the girl’s mother was there with him. And it was just a weird night. So, there’s that. But then Harry called me in the middle of the night, completely wasted,” she went on with the story and what was said, barely taking a breath to pause as Marla listened closely.

“So, I need to just end it with him. Before he really gets hurt. Before I can’t let him go. Because that’s for the best. But now I’m also worried about this Parker girl. If Leo’s been seeing her frequently and taking her on vacations with him then I don’t know what that means for me either. What if I break up with Harry and then Leo wants a divorce because he’s fallen in love with Parker? I don’t care that he’s with her. But my concerns about it are mostly just selfish. I don’t know what to do. I honestly feel like the worst person in the world. I’m selfish and I’m in the middle of this strange affair. I know I need to break it off.”

Marla had listened quietly and hummed affirmatively throughout. She hadn’t realized the depth of feelings involved until then.

“I feel like it might be better if you do break up with Harry. That makes the most sense. He’s so young and you are technically married to his father so even though you can sleep with another man, you’ve picked the wrong one.”

“I know. I’ve never made such an epic mistake in all my life. It’s a mistake, what I’ve done. Isn’t it?”

“I think so. Yeah. You can’t help how you feel. I understand why you are doing it. Why you like Harry so much, but… if you can never be with him openly then that probably makes this a mistake. Will you see him today?”

“I’m going to go see him. Yes. I hate this so much. Can I come see you after? I’m gonna need someone to talk to and cry to a bit. I don’t want Leo wondering what’s wrong with me. Not that he’d care much.”

.           .           .

Her text to Harry went unanswered. She imagined he might still be sleeping. Hungover from the night before. Hell, she was even hungover from the night before but five glasses of wine at 27 will do that to you.

She chewed the skin at the edge of her thumb as she walked around her neighborhood in the hills. She couldn’t stay in the house with Leo looming because she would frequently begin to burst into tears out of nowhere and she couldn’t have him seeing that.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and nerves were making her skin crawl the longer she waited to hear back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t just ignoring her altogether. And to drive all the way to his campus on a Saturday at noon would be an hour's drive.

But maybe that’s what she needed. Maybe a long drive and some loud music with her windows rolled down would be better than walking along the winding streets of her neighborhood and waiting for him to respond. Yes. That’s what she’d do. She’d go to him. She needed to. This needed to end. Only then could they both move on and begin to heal.

.           .           .

Harry did see the text come in from Y/n. Sort of. He opened up a singular eye and squinted to read the message but the words were fuzzy and his headache was killer. He couldn’t move. Lifting the phone to look at the text was a feat in and of itself and that had been all for nothing because he couldn’t even make out the words on his screen. He knew it was from Y/n but when he closed his eye he drifted off into a dreamless sleep once again. Tyler never budged from his spot on the couch.

But when there was a knock at his door and his phone was ringing right next to his head he was forced to sit upright and take in his surroundings. His head was still pounding but the nausea from the night before had mostly passed. Mostly.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy and dry and pained.

“Harry. It’s me. I’m at your door.”

It took a minute for everything to fall into place. He stood up and slowly made his way to his door and when he opened up, even though he knew Y/n said she was there, somehow it still took him by surprise.

He silently greeted her and gestured for her to enter.

His TV was on but the sound was muted. Tyler was draped over the small couch with his mouth gaped wide open in a dead sleep. A bottle of liquor, empty on the small table in front of the couch was the final clue as to what had gone on the night before.

She could tell Harry had just woken up. That at least made her feel a bit better. He wasn’t purposely ignoring her.  

“I’m sorry I showed up like this,” she spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Tyler up. Especially because it would look suspicious to him to see Y/n there. Though she assumed he knew based on Harry’s comments about Tyler when he called her in the middle of the night.

She was so pretty but she looked so sad. Harry could tell, even with a killer headache and a queasy stomach that she was pensive.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about that call last night. Got very drunk. And wound up telling him about us,” Harry looked over his shoulder at Tyler then back at you. “So… I’m sorry about that too.”

Y/n watched as Harry got himself a glass of water and chug it before waking Tyler up and asking him to go back to his room.

Tyler eventually got up and greeted Y/n politely, “Morning. Uh, sorry. I just need to run to the bathroom and then I’ll be out of here.”

It was awkward. Sitting on Harry’s bed while she watched his best friend drag himself to the bathroom. Knowing he knew about them. She wondered what Harry had told him exactly. And now she imagined he’d be calling Tyler after she left to tell him what had happened and how she’d broken his heart. Not dissimilar to what she’d be doing with Marla.

Harry stood awkwardly against the foot of his bed with his head turned to look at Y/n, “I am sorry you know. I can tell you’re upset. Is that why you’re here?”

He did feel bad. He’d been way out of line. Wildly jealous. Drunk.

“In part,” she looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot but he was still so handsome. If she weren’t there at that moment to break up with him she’d stand up and pull him in for a kiss. She wanted to. “But I wanted to talk to you about something else too.”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy curls, “Y/n,” his green eyes looked so bright and tired. The next words he spoke in a quiet whisper, “Please don’t.” She almost didn’t hear him. Almost. But she did and the moment he said it her heart dropped into her stomach. This was going to kill her.

Tyler opened the door and said goodbye quickly but Harry didn’t take his eyes off Y/n’s. He knew what she was doing. Why she’d come. He could just feel it. Tell by the way she was looking at him.

“Is that why you’re here, Y/n? To break up with me?”

Y/n patted the spot on the mattress next to her, “Come sit with me. Please.”

“Damnit!” Harry walked toward his kitchenette and leaned over the small formica countertop with his back to her, “I fucked up. I am not good at this. I’m too emotional.”

Y/n had broken up with a fair amount of guys in her life. Some were easier than others. A few times she was on the receiving end of the breakup. It was never easy.

But this one felt a lot heavier. It felt like ripping out a page from a beautifully half-drawn masterpiece before it was ready to see the light of day. Torn in half and tossed into the trash and wasted all without having had the chance to be completed and filled in with color and then framed and hung. It could have been beautiful.

She got up from the bed and walked across his room to stand behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, smushing her cheek into his back all in silence.

Harry’s breaths were heavy and his t-shirt-covered back was warm against her skin. He brought his hands up over hers and hung his head.

“Harry,” she whispered and squeezed him tight, “I don’t want to do this but–“

“Then don’t,” Harry turned around to face her and took her hands into his, “Then don’t, Y/n.”

Shaking her head she blinked away her tears and tried to focus on her task. It had to be done. It was better for him in the end. And she only wanted what was best for him.

“This can’t go on. We’ll only get hurt. It’s already hurting.”

Shiny tears filled in Harry’s eyes and when he finally blinked they fell down his cheeks and to his chin, “Do you not-“ He shook his head and looked down for a moment as he sniffed to compose himself. Looking back into her eyes his thumbs softly caressed her thumbs, “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“It’s not that,” she shook her head, “It’s because I think this guilt and pain will just get worse. You’ve been so upset and unhappy. I don’t want to see you sad.”

“This is making me sad, Y/n. If you’re trying to do something to protect me, then don’t. I can handle it. I know the deal.”

She closed her eyes and lifted his hand up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles, “I know. But it’ll be easier if we do it now. The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll be. We’ll both wind up hating each other. It’ll be messier than it already is. You don’t want to be some secret forever do you?” She looked up at him.

“I would if it meant being with you. Whatever that means. Whatever it takes.”

“You don’t mean that. I don’t think you understand how awful it would be.”

“I haven’t been given the chance. I can get used to it. I’ll be better.”

Y/n dropped his hands and brought her arms up, cupping his face with her palms, “You’re so young. You’ll get over me. You’ll find someone you can be happy with openly and fall in love and have all those things you deserve.”

Harry’s mouth was slightly open as he drew in breaths of air (unable to breathe through his nose as he was crying). He put his large hands over hers and shook his head, “And what about you? Don’t you deserve love and someone who will be only yours? My dad can’t give you that. I can.”

“I agreed to the arrangement with your dad, Harry. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. My only concern is you. You are the one that deserves to have all those wonderful. Not me.”

“No. You’re wrong. You deserve it too. I want to be the one to give that to you.”

She tried to stop her sinuses from tingling and the tears from forming but she couldn’t. Her lips quivered as she tried to respond but her words were swallowed in her throat when she sucked in a sharp breath of grief.

She was helpless to her natural emotions as she felt her cheeks wet. She wanted to be strong and confident when she broke up with him so he’d see she meant it but her position crumbled with his delicate temper. He was too tender and lovely for her to keep up a cold façade.

“Please, Harry. Don’t make this harder. We can’t see each other anymore like this. I will miss you but this can’t go on.” She brought her hands down from his face, causing his hands to fall away.

“Who’s going to show you affection and give you intimacy then, Y/n? You can’t go about life without out. I can see how much you need it. You need me.” He sniffed as more tears fell.

“Harry…” she shook her head and backed away as she wiped her face.

But he grasped her wrist, not letting her get too far, “Don’t. Please, Y/n. You’re gonna break my heart.”

Y/n looked down at her wrist and back to Harry’s soulful gaze, “You’ll be okay. You’ll find someone better.”

He let go of her wrist and let out an incredulous laugh, “The fuck I will.”

He pushed himself off the small counter and walked to his window to look outside. His attitude had changed. Now he was clearly frustrated. Angry.

“You will,” she followed behind him but kept a small distance, “I promise.”

“So you’ll just be fucking whoever comes along that you like instead of me since my dad isn’t offering love to you. Is that what you wanted? Just company. No attachment? No love?”

That’s what she thought she wanted. Before she met Harry. In fact, she thought she’d be okay with just having Leo from time to time to fill in the physical parts of intimacy. The rest she could get from her friends.

But it all changed with Harry. Which is why she needed to stop it before it was too much. Before she was completely in love and had him ruined as well.

“I will be okay, Harry. I’m doing this because I want you to have everything you deserve.”

“Fuck that.” Harry turned to look at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want. You don’t want me? Fine. We’ll go back to how it was before. Except less friendly, I think, because I’m not sure I can handle being too friendly with you. If that’s what you want. Fine. I want you to have whatever your heart desires too, Y/n. And if that’s not me then I can’t change your mind.”

“Harry… that’s not how it is–“

“That’s exactly how it is. You’re here to break up with me. So we’ll break up. Despite how amazing we are together. We’ll just call it quits. Give up before we can really see what happens. Before we really even got going.”

“It’s because this was a mistake, Harry. This should have never happened, you and me. It’s only caused deep hurt and it will only grow worse if we continue.”

Harry nodded and looked up toward his ceiling to pull the tears back into his eyes, not wanting to let any more drop down over his cheeks, “You’re right.” He looked back at her and she could see a bit of anger rise in his demeanor, “This was a mistake.”

5. When In Greece

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[beautifulplaceofyouth]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | SERIES 

Excuse me for spelling the chapter number wrong, I was in a hurry and didn't have time to change it.

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

Ch. 12

Ch. 13

Ch. 14 (End)

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Happily ever after with a fluffy and spicy scene involved. They have one more person in the family. Just a happy emotional ending. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: The long waited epilogue is here. I hope it's not too sloppy. I know it's pretty short, sorry. \: Haven't have time to publish it earlier because of health issues but I wanted to end the series finally so you don't need to wait longer! Enjoy .

TEN MONTHS LATER

Jungkook POV

Leaning back in the chair, he felt exhausted from the paperwork which needed to be done because of his kingdom's new adjustments and changes since his wife started living with him so if he wanted this place to be peaceful for her health, he needed to get it sorted out.

It meant better security around the castle and banning all the people who wanted him gone from the throne. It was hard work for several months but it was time to be able to breathe better once he finishes everything.

Massaging his neck, he felt stiff after working so much in the office all day. He already missed his wife and the little sunshine.

He smiled at the thought.

She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and he was grateful for her giving him such a gift. He had his wife's blue eyes, father's nose but already growing small wings which was surprising considering the fact his wife is just a human. He at least inherited something from his world too and he was glad that the baby boy will have freedom to fly like his father can.

His love for her was so strong that he even rejected his position as guardian angel from heavens above.

It was not a hard decision. He already knew he will have Y/n by his side for eternity but the high angel council was disappointed in him to lose his powers because of a human. Months later they started to see that they can't do anything to change his mind so they allowed him to live on earth and still have his wings at least for protection.

Now he had people to depend on. A beautiful family by his side and he couldn't be happier.

The link with his wife allowed him to feel her emotions and as he sat there, thinking about her, the distress was getting stronger than usual. He didn't understand why.

Mindlinking her, he sent her his thoughts.

"Are you awake, my love?"

His question was left unanswered so it meant that she is sleeping because it was late at night already.

Immediately standing up, he took his cloak as well as his sword and headed out of the door. He needed to find out what's wrong with her.

His royal adviser Minho, the fallen angel was already waiting by his chambers when he bowed to his king," Your Majesty."

"My wife. Is she inside?"

"Uh, yes. She hasn't been outside for several hours so I assume the young prince also is inside."

He furrowed his eyebrows," And you are informing me only now?" he glared at him, his eyes blazing with emotions.

Minho bowed again, trembling in fear," I'm sorry, Your Majesty. It will not happen again."

"You better. Now leave," dismissing him, he went inside his chambers.

Leaving the cloak and the sword on a small wooden bench by the door, he went further inside, only just to stop in his tracks.

His wife was sleeping on a rocking chair, holding their baby boy, both were dreaming about something but the look on his wife's face worried him.

Is she ill? She was sweating.

Silently approaching them, he took his son in his arms when she blinked her tired eyes open," Jungkook?"

"Hey, love," he softly whispered and leaned down to kiss her forehead, feeling her face burning," Do you have a fever?" His concern was obvious.

She shook her head and just closed her eyes. That alarmed him.

Taking his son to the nursery room, he put him inside the crib to sleep, kissing his the crown of his head," Goodnight, Fin. I will go take care of mommy so sleep well my sweet boy," in response, the the baby boy just murmured something in his sleep.

Smiling, he went back to the living quarters to see Y/n in the same position as before.

He gently picked her up as soon as he reached the bed, putting her on the middle pillow where she usually slept in. It was strange that she wasn't moving at all. He could feel that she was burning, distressed about something.

Completely undressing from his attire, she didn't even resist when he pulled all of her clothes off so she isn't hot under the covers.

"Sweetheart, darling, are you sick?" His worried hushed tone made her whimper when she burrowed herself in his arms, suddenly shivering like she was cold.

This won't do.

Lifting her up in his arms again, he carried her towards the big bathroom where the biggest bath was located in their private space that they used for whenever they were together or for times when one of them has a headache. There was also a special medicine cabinet in case either of them have an emergency.

When he entered the bathroom, he quickly placed her inside the huge tub. Turning the tap for warm water, he let it run into the tub filling it up until it was nearly at the top. Then he turned off the water and added some smelling herbs for her to heal the body faster and possibly temperature will drop to normal again.

Taking the medicine for the headache and fever in the small bowl, he put it beside the tub for easier access.

Sliding behind her, he pulled her naked body between his legs, hugging her to his chest, her hair already wet and sticky against her skin. Gathering it together, he tucked her hair in front of her over her left shoulder so they doesn't tickle his nose that much.

Kissing her neck slowly, he takes one medicine pill and gently tips her head up with his hand beneath her chin, his fingers resting against her throat in a gentle hold," Open your mouth, baby."

Her tired eyes open with little strength as she obediently opens her mouth. Smiling at her, he slips the pill between her lips," Suck it gently. It's has a sweet taste to swallow better," he explains.

He watches her tongue wrap around the pill as she starts to suck it and he felt proud that she managed to keep it inside of her mouth so long before finally swallowing.

"Good girl," he coos, running his fingers through her long, silky hair and massaging the soft scalp.

She snuggled closer to him, nuzzling against him making him chuckle at her cuteness," Are you sleepy yet? You've probably been tired of nursing our son all the time and I haven't even checked your health. I'm sorry for failing you," he dropped his head against her shoulder in guilt.

Like a good wife she always is, Y/n lifts her hand over his head, massaging his hair gently," It's okay, Jungkook. I'm fine now because of you."

"No, it's not. You deserve more," he said as she moved away slightly and looked at him with sad blue orbs.

His heart clenched as he noticed how pale she was and how thin she has gotten over the past few months. "I promise I will spend time with you and our son more often now. It's just my duties require so much work that I..."

"It's okay, Jungkook. I know. You're the best husband and king in the world. To me you're perfect in every aspect. Times can get rough sometimes but that's why we are here for each other to support and help in the times of need. Being parents are not easy but I'm glad to be here with you, with our baby living the best life every woman could ask for. You've given me the world and I love you for that," her eyes are full of love for him and he can't help but feel tears forming in his eyes. It was hard to breathe for a moment.

He still couldn't believe that she belongs to him. This beautiful woman was his forever. And so is the son she gave birth to.

Taking her cheek, he seals his mouth over her inviting rosy lips, the tears escaping his eyes in silent waterfall. His emotions were too strong, too overwhelming.

The link between them showed him that she is really telling the truth. She loved him unconditionally and always would.

"I love you," his breath shuddered in fear to lose her, afraid to look away from her beautiful, soulful blue eyes.

As if reading his mind, she cupped his face between her hands, caressing his cheeks lovingly with her thumbs. Her eyes filled with joy and warmth which brought him happiness as well as relief.

A soft smile appeared on her lips," I love you too."

He never cried. Never. The life before made him grow up with nerves of steel but now the thought of something happening to her and his son, the thought of losing them scared him beyond belief.

But this time it happened. Everything came crashing down in a matter of seconds and he couldn't hold it in anymore. Not when she told him that she loves him. Forgives him for not caring enough about her feelings or health issues.

He was shaking uncontrollably as he held her tighter. His eyes shut tightly while he sobbed uncontrollably in her embrace.

She was ill so he didn't wanted to burden her with worry for him but she just held him tightly back, slowly straddling his lap, kissing him with all of her last energy from how tired she was but it was like she doesn't care. The only important thought was reassuring him, to show him how much she loves him.

Pulling slightly back, his eyes were blurry from the crying, probably red when he rested his forehead against hers," You're my whole world, Y/n. You and Fin are the most precious souls in my heart right now. I'm so happy that you chose me," his smile is brighter and this time his wife is holding her tears back but failing miserably when she starts crying and laughing.

When she calms down, she looks at him," We are such sappy fools."

He chuckles at that," You're right. We are a mess. But only with you," he says in a low voice and suddenly realizes their position when her clit slides against his hardness.

"Fuck," the feel of her wet slit against his throbbing cock makes him drop his head back on the edge of the tub.

"Baby...If you don't want me to fuck you right here, I suggest you to leave the tub. I'm really hard because of you," he whispers in husky voice, watching her carefully for her reaction.

She still blushes even after all these months together, even after giving birth, she always seem shy when he talks to her dirty.

"Sweetheart," his plead was enough to make her lift her hips in encouragement as she hid her face in his shoulder.

"All right," she breathes and that's what it took to grab her hips and push his length inside of her, sinking deep enough to feel her walls contracting against his length. He groans at the feeling that they're connected by nothing but skin and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist keeping her close to himself as he pulls out only a tiny bit then thrust back in with a strong thrust before taking her again.

"Jungkook ah," she whines in pain as he moves fast and harder.

Not able to take any more, he grabs her ass as he leans forward, lifting her body up high above the surface of the tub, spreading her legs enough to split her in two, causing both of them to moan loudly at their new position.

'Fucking hell! I can't stop myself. She feels amazing. Too good to be true. So beautiful.

"I'm so sorry, love. I can't help myself," he chokes out while pulling out to come deep inside of her once more.

Y/n throws her head back, screaming his name.

With an angry grunt, Jungkook pushes harder into her, grunting again in pleasure at the feeling of being filled, filling her until his balls hurt but he can't find any ounce of self control because of her and her smell, her taste.

He couldn't help the loud, guttural noises as his cock jerks against her, pumping so powerfully inside of her and he knows it's coming soon.

He knew that Fin is sleeping two rooms away but fuck, she felt incredibly good and he had to make sure this moment stays between them until they reach heaven and the end of their journey.

Pushing himself deeper inside of her, he holds her tighter to him, his body trembling with ecstasy. His eyes closed tight and he grunts louder, almost moaning," Come for me, Y/n..."

His thrusts became harsher, his grib beneath her ass leaving bruises but her moans only intensified as he comes faster and deeper into her, feeling how she clenches around him and the way his seed bursts inside her with one powerful thrust.

Silencing her last scream with his mouth, his tongue diving between her hot lips, he felt almost feverish as she when they both began to feel tired from the powerful orgasm. His thick forearms held her in the air till he slipped out of her, both of their cum dripping out in the water.

Lowering her back into his lap, she clings to him tightly, breathing heavily against his ear.

"You're incredible," he kisses her neck.

"And you're insane," she giggles softly, still out of breath," I feel like Fin will wake up after this because of us."

"Well, not my fault that my cock feels so good that you scream and beg for it more," teasing her, she only blushed but with a smile on her face.

Closing his eyes, he hugs her to him again before they go to the bed.

Not soon after there was crying heard outside and his beautiful wife pokes him in the ribs," Told you."

He rolls his eyes but chuckles," Yeah, yeah, yeah but this time you go to bed. I will take care of him, okay?"

She looks worried," But,-"

The stern look shuts her up when he kisses her temple," No, you need to rest. End of discussion."

"Fine. But come to bed after, will you? I miss your warmth," she pouts.

Kissing her one more time, Jungkook promises her," Always, Ms. Jeon. My queen.”

Since he was born, his duty was to protect Y/n and now he was glad that she has chosen him.

He will always love her and that will never change.

THE END

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

Taglist: @lepau123 @the-princess-of-mischief-1998@11thenightwemet11 @khadeeeeej @almosttoopizza@jiminismine4ever (If you want to be tagged, please message me)

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[messrmoonyy]

Pretty little thing

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

Prompt- based on a dark tess request that I lost the original prompt of but was along the lines of older Ellie and reader being friends and reader getting a crush on Tess, trying to make Tess reciprocate things until she finally gives in and fucks the reader including Dacryphilia , overstimulation, overall a more mean Tess. This also includes various other small requests that a mashed into this including face sitting and more Jackson Tess.

A/N- will say this isn’t very ‘dark!tess ‘ but you guys also requests a meaner/ rougher smut scene with Tess. So. You got it. I think. Prawn with plot. Enjoy

Warnings- 18+ || reader is a littlleeee obsessed, Tess is kinda mean. And patronising, canon compliment violence and discussions of infected, implied age gap, smut: fingering ( reader receiving ), overstimulation, degradation, dacryphillia, dumbification, choking, face sitting/ oral ( reader receiving), orgasm denial

Word count- 12.7k ( I am so sorry💀 my next one will be shorter I promise 😭)

Navigation | TLOU masterlist | AO3

Reblogs and comments appreciated and encouraged! <3

You were woken up to the sound of knocking. At first you weren’t entirely sure if you were hearing it or if it was something in your dream. That kind of far off, echoey sound to it where you were only half awake and still coming to terms with being back in the real world again. But it was real. When you fully opened your eyes the sound continued.

As your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room you first noticed you weren’t at home, your sleep disorientated brain failing to tell you exactly where you were right away. But you knew it wasn’t your home.

The knocking continued and you remembered that was why you had woken up in the first place.

“ I’m not going anywhere so open up or I’ll just come in and Joel will be pissed if he has to fix this lock again “ came a muffled voice from behind the door, an incredibly bored tone to their words. You sat up and winced as your neck ached from the funny angle you’d fallen asleep in, tired eyes adjusting to your surroundings “ I know you’re both in there one of you better open this door in the next ten seconds “

You were at Ellie’s. Sat on the floor, clearly having fallen asleep with your head lolled backwards onto the couch. The knocking continued, making you realise just how much your head was hurting. Your tired mind attempted to piece together the night before.

Drinks with Ellie. Then Dina, then Jesse.

Jesse and Dina were no longer there but Ellie was sprawled face down on the couch, snoring quite contently, clearly not even shifting at the sound of whoever was at the door. You groaned again and got to your feet as the knocking continued “ 5. 4- “

“ alright. I’m coming. Fuck “ you rubbed at your tired eyes and sighed. You didn’t even know why you felt so shitty. You’d barely even drank that much. Maybe it was lack of sleep and the absolute neck breaking angle you had somehow passed out in.

You crossed the room and cracked the door open, wincing away from the early morning light and squinting to adjust your eyes and focus on the blurry figure in front of you.

“ well hello sleeping fuckin beauty “ you were suddenly wide awake as you realised who was stood there. Arms folded and eyebrow raised as she eyed your post sleep look. You must have looked a mess. Bedraggled hair and eyes barely open, still wearing the clothes you’d been wearing the day before, but now with an odd stain on the front of your shirt that you weren’t entirely sure of the origin of.

“ oh. Tess “ she craned her head to look inside and rolled her eyes at the sight of Ellie passed out still, now mouth agape and drooling onto the cushions.

“ it’s your lucky day. You’ve been moved to pairs patrols. Get dressed. Meet me at the stables in 10. And tell Ellie she’s due out in a couple of hours too. So wake her ass up “ you tried your best to process the information as she turned and started to walk away

“ I- huh? I only do group patrols “

“ don’t make me come back and get you! “ she called as she continued to walk, not even answering your question. You closed the door and started to wake up fully, internally screaming at yourself for having stood there in front of her looking like… well. That.

Though you’d guessed she’d probably seen you worse. She’d been there the day Jesse had decided making his own moonshine was a good idea. In fact she’d been the one holding your hair back as you’d puked up said moonshine in her bathroom, rubbing soft circles into your back as you begged her not to tell Maria about it. She never had to your surprise.

You walked over to where Ellie was still dead to the world, not even having moved an inch at the sound of Tess and her knocking.

“ El. Ellie. Elliieeee. Dude come on “ you sighed, nudging at her with your knee “ Ellie. Ellie! “ she startled so suddenly she rolled off the couch, face first onto the floor.

“ what the fuck man! “ she grabbed a cushion and tossed it at you, missing completely and knocking over something on her desk instead.

“ Tess was here. I’m on patrol in 10. You’re out soon too she told me to wake you up. So. Now you’re up “ she muttered something under her breath and slowly pushed her way back up onto the couch, tipping her head back and closing her eyes again

“ my head hurts “ she groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes “ were Jesse and Dina here last night or did I make that up? “

“ no. They were here. In fact it was Jesses idea to play that stupid drinking game “ you still weren’t entirely sure on the rules and you’d damn played it. Though you did get the idea that Jesse seemed to be making them up on the spot anyway “ can I borrow a shirt? I won’t make it back to mine and to the stables in 10. And I don’t want Tess to be angry with me “

You didn’t wait for her to answer you, knowing she’d say yes anyway, and rummaged through her drawers for something clean to wear. You figured your jeans from yesterday would be fine and even though Tess had already seen you in the questionable stain shirt. You did not want her to see you in it again.

“ Tess? “

“ yeah. I just told you she was here. She said I’m on pairs patrols now “

“ that’s good. Isn’t that what you wanted? Maybe they paired you with her. That’s why she came to get you “ you could only hope. The entire reason you’d asked to be on pairs patrols in the first place was so that you could possible be partnered up with her. Though the chances were a little slim. She almost always went out with Joel.

“ she goes out with Joel “

“ Tommys back on patrols now. I bet he’s going with Joel. Ease him back into it “ Tommy had been out of rotation for a few months, taking time to help out Maria with the new baby. It couldn’t of been easy they already had one young kid, Maria definitely needed his help. You helped her out from time to time, but she had entrusted you with other things around town in her absence. Not entirely important things, you did get the feeling she was trying to make you feel needed. But it was whatever. You were happy to help.

It would make sense to pair Tommy up with Joel if he was back in rotation now. Pair him with someone he knew well, who was strong and capable, just in case he was a little rusty after a few months out.

So maybe Tess was missing a partner now. And pairing a newbie to pairs up with someone like her, someone who knew what they were doing and could do the trails with their eyes closed, would make a lot of sense.

You finished getting changed and grabbed your backpack from by the door, eager to leave even with your post sleep grogginess still clouding your head. You didn’t want to keep Tess waiting.

Ellie had flopped herself into bed now instead of the couch and you left her to it, your goodbye falling on deaf ears as she fell back into sleep again.

As you walked towards the stables the early morning air cleared your head a little and you finally were able to process what the day had in store for you. You’d been asking to be moved to pairs patrols for a while. You’d been on patrols since the day you’d hit 16 and been allowed out in the groups. You knew the regular group routes like the back of your hand, could take down infected better than some of the others could. So you had years of experience behind you now. You had truly solidified your spot on the roster.

But to your dismay. Tess was never on groups. She was always on pairs.

So you’d started talking to Maria and asking for pairs patrols. With the soul intention of being paired with Tess. Not that you’d thought it would happen. But it was always worth a shot, right? Maria was like a second mother to you, she’d taken you under her wing when your mother had taken ill and died a few years back. They’d been close since they were kids so you guessed Maria felt obliged.

So you knew in the end you’d bring her round to make her put you on pairs. And you did have the slightest of suspicions she knew why you wanted to be on pairs.

She gave you looks from time to time when she saw you both together. You did guess you weren’t exactly subtle with it.

How on earth you were supposed to survive a few hours completely alone with her? Even if that was what you’d been hoping for ever since you’d first met her. When that silly schoolgirl crush had first reared it’s head when she, Joel and Ellie had turned up in Jackson. It had only gotten stronger as you got closer to Ellie, spent more time with the three of them. You were a couple years older than Ellie but she’d stuck to you like glue almost immediately. She didn’t really seem to want to talk to anyone when she first arrived but you clearly had something going for you, cause she’d wanted to talk to you.

And you weren’t apposed to that. You loved Ellie. And it meant you got the added benefit of spending time with Tess. So what was there to dislike?

You’d gotten a little braver as you’d spent more time with Ellie over the years, finding excuses to sit close to Tess whenever you’d hang out with the family. Convincing her to dance with you at the parties Maria and Tommy threw in the tipsy bison from time to time, letting your hands wander a little too much but blaming it on the alcohol. When half of the time you hadn’t even drank a drop.

You’d practically thrown yourself at her multiple times over the years but she never quite reciprocated. But there was… something. The way she never actively stopped you immediately, would simply give you a look. Or tell you to be careful in a low tone that made butterflies swarm in your stomach.

You still thought about the last party Maria threw, when you’d made her dance with you and her face had been so incredibly close to your own. The tension between you had been so thick it was like no one else was even in the room with you, she swarmed every single one of your senses.

You’d thought she was going to kiss you that night. If only you’d had the guts to close the minuscule gap maybe she would’ve. But instead she’d dropped a light kiss to your cheek, dropped her mouth close to your ear and murmured ‘ be careful ‘ before leaving.

It had sounded almost like a warning. Like a woman on edge that was so close to snapping, a warning that you wouldn’t like what would come your way if she did snap. But you knew you would. It’s all you could think about. And knowing she was so incredibly close to giving in… maybe today might be your lucky day after all.

You didn’t know why she was holding back. At first you had thought it was because of Joel. When they first arrived in town to anyone with a working set of eyes they looked like a couple. The way they were so ridiculously in tune with the other, so much so that you’d often watched them have entire conversations without even opening their mouths. They worked and moved as one, were fiercely defensive and protective of the other.

It had been quite the surprise when you’d found out that they weren’t a thing. You’d gone over to their place to hang out with Ellie and she’d shown you around, shown you how Joel had his own room. And so did Tess.

From that point on you’d had less shame about swooning over her. Knowing she wasn’t actually with Joel. And that stupid little crush had stayed with you right though to the current day. Where it was now as strong as ever.

And seemingly finally ready to burst.

You had tried everything in your power. Even getting with occasional other person with the simple motivation of making her jealous. Nothing was working.

But you were persistent.

Tess was waiting for you by the stables leant back against the wall with her arms folded, as they always were, rolling a stone under the toe of her boot absentmindedly. It felt like an almost childlike thing from her, something innocent. A side to her that you only ever saw in those family nights at Ellie’s.

She looked up when she heard you approaching, a smile pulling at her lips.

“ right on time. I was beginning to think spending so much time with Ellie would rub off on you “ you rolled your eyes but smiled too. Ellie would be late to her own damn funeral it was true. She had zero concept of time keeping “ do you have a horse? “ she asked with a nod towards the stables behind her.

“ I usually just ride with Ellie when we go out on the group patrols “

“ are you confident enough to ride on your own? “ you were. But you stopped before you spoke, a lightbulb suddenly burning brightly in your mind. If you said you weren’t confident would she let you ride with her? Or would she just send you right back to group patrols. Was it worth the risk of saying no? Just for the chance of getting to sit close against her for a while? “ you can just ride with me if- “

“ yeah. I’ll ride with you “ you said it far too quickly. And you prayed it would just come across as you having some fear of riding alone and not that you were desperate to have some kind of physical contact with her. Of literally any kind.

The small smirk that pulled at her lips didn’t tell you which one she thought it was. If she was laughing at you for being afraid. Or was simply smirking because she knew you too well now and she knew exactly why you’d said it. Either way you didn’t really care, because the outcome was still the same.

“ alright. Let’s go “ you followed her into the stables as she checked out her horse, following closely at her side as she walked it by the reigns down towards the main gates out of town.

All of the morning patrols were waiting, Jesse up front looking far too put together for someone who had downed enough whiskey the previous night to absolutely obliterate his liver. He was reeling off the patrols and the routes they were taking, making sure everyone was present and correct.

“ we’re on a good route “ she said quietly, still looking at Jesse and feigning interest in his words “ easy as fuck. It’s why me and Joel always pick it “ she said with a small laugh “ unless you’re in the mood to fuck some shit up, then it’s not so great “

“ blowing the head off of some infected. Tried and tested stress reliever “

“ exactly “

“ so. Which route are we on? “

“ ski lodge. Nice and quiet. And the lodge is nice too, spend most of your time there because the patrol doesn’t take long. Definitely the best route to be on. Told you. It’s why Joel and I always request it. And I convinced Jesse it was a good route for a newbie so. Joel’s on the creek trails with Tommy “ she seemed quite smug with herself at the fact she’d gotten the better route.

It did sound nice though. And spending some time alone with her in the lodge? You really were winning today.

When Jesse finished giving out his orders, you mounted Tess’ horse behind her, scooching as close as humanly possible and holding onto her. You wanted to move your hands under her jacket, feel the warmth of her through the soft plaid shirt she had on. But you resisted, convinced that if you thought about it hard enough you’d feel it through the canvas material of her jacket.

You watched as the large gates out of town were opened, the wood creaking loudly.

Your family had been one of the founding members of Jackson, helping Maria and her father build it up into what it was currently. So all you’d ever really known was the town. So every time those gates opened you felt some rush of adrenaline. Excitement mixed with anxiety at leaving the safety of those walls.

Even though it was exactly the same, you always felt like the air was fresher the second you left. A cooler breeze, a warmer sun. It was nice. Summer was creeping up fast. The days were getting longer, warmer, brighter. It made you feel more awake.

Horse rides in the spring were much nicer than the winter too, the warm sun on your skin and the light speckling through the leaves of the trees. Jackson was unbelievably pretty.

Tess was quiet for a while as she rode, taking you in the opposite direction you were used to. The woods were a little denser than the routes you were usually assigned. It made the ride a little bumpy but you didn’t mind, it gave you another excuse to hold tighter to Tess. Able to use the excuse of some fear of falling off if she questioned it.

“ scared of riding or something? “ she eventually asked, a slight teasing tone to her words as she spoke.

“ not really. I’ve rode alone before but. I don’t know. I feel better with someone else. I fell off when I was younger and broke wrist. Freaked me out I guess “

“ they freaked me out at first “ she confessed “ before Jackson i’d never rode before. Joel taught me “ you wouldn’t have guessed that. She seemed a pretty confident rider right from the start. She seemed pretty confident with everything. You didn’t think you’d ever actually seen her afraid.

“ I didn’t think you were scared of anything “ she scoffed at that

“ i didn’t say scared “ she went quiet again then as you continued on. She didn’t speak again until you reached the lodge “ we’ll tie the horse here. The patrol route is just along the ridge up there, loops back around. Then down into the town down there, there’s a lookout log in one of the houses at the end of the street. Loop back up. Easy as fuck “ you nodded, squinting in the early morning sun as it cut through the gaps in the trees. Some birds were tweeting away on the branches and it felt almost peaceful.

She jumped down from the horse then turned to you

“ c’mon “ she grabbed at your waist to hoist you down, your hands falling onto her shoulders to support yourself. Your mind blanked for a moment at the feel of her hands on you, feeling as though they were burning through the material of your shirt. Something passed over her face as she looked at you, as if noticing the silent reaction you were having. But she said nothing.

She let you go and grabbed her rifle, nodding to something behind you

“ that’s the way. Follow me “ you grabbed your own gun out of your backpack as she started walking, running to catch up to her.

You trailed a little behind her as she walked, simply so you could get a better look at her. Even there when there was no one else around, no one she needed to look tough for. She still oozed confidence. The way she walked. The way she kept her head held high. No attempts to shrink away. To hide. To walk in the way Ellie had done when you first met her, like she was too afraid to take up space.

Tess wanted to take up space. She wanted people to know who she was and what she was about. She wasn’t afraid… of anything it seemed.

In fact. You knew she wasn’t.

You’d heard the stories. The rumours. The things that Ellie had told you. That Tess and Joel weren’t… good. They didn’t do good things. They hadn’t. But a twisted part of you liked that. Wanted to know more. Details. Wanted to hear about what she had done and all she was willing to do to stay and alive and to protect the people she loved.

You wanted to be one of those people. Wanted her to do sick things to protect you, to prove all she was willing to do to keep you safe.

You craved a love like that. A desperate and all consuming kind. A kind you knew she could give you.

If she would just stop holding herself back.

“ got some runners “ she said looking over the ridge to one of the towns in the distance. They were pretty far out, looking almost like little ants dashing around the place from so far away.

You watched as her hands moved into a comfortable and familiar position with her gun, pulling the trigger and taking down the strays with ease. You were fixated. On her face, the way her eyes narrowed as she aligned her shot through the scope, the way her lips parted slightly as she steadied her breath. Ammo was precious and she made every shot worth it. You watched her fingers, how long and slender they were. You wanted to melt between them. Wanted to feel what it was like to turn to mush beneath her finger tips.

You had spent many nights dreaming of how they felt. How they’d feel in your hair, trailing across your back, wrapped around your throat, curled up inside of you.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

“ alright. Let’s keep moving “ she snapped you out of your daydreaming as she lowered the gun, one look over now showing the little ant like runners were motionless on the ground.

“ that was impressive “ you said, clearing your throat lightly in some attempt to distract your thoughts.

“ it’s practice “ is all she said, carrying on along the track. You wondered if this was some old hiking trail or something. If people had come through there years ago, walking that same path for fun. Not to shoot infected. Though you weren’t entirely sure how anyone could find trekking through the woods fun. But maybe that was because your idea of it was so tainted.

It was pretty. You couldn’t deny that. The morning sun in the mountains and the flowers in full bloom. But you had a much better view.

As you watched her you wondered if she ever thought things like that about you. You had caught her watching you before. Many times. And she wasn’t sheepish about it either. She didn’t immediately look away if she saw you had caught her, would hold it another second or two and then look away.

It did make you think.

She came to a stop again looking out at a town slightly futher out than the last. She pulled some binoculars from her pack and looked though them for a moment.

“ wanna take ‘em? “ she asked, lowering her binoculars and looking over at you. The sun was catching her just right, enveloping her in golden light like the goddess you so often heralded her as. You were very obviously staring but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Maybe it was because she could clearly see that you were. And were certain you saw her lips quirk into a smile. Just a subtle one. But a smile “ hello? Are you suddenly mute? “

She waved a hand in front of your face and you shrugged, not even a sliver of embarrassment in your face. You wanted her to see you. Wanted her to know you were looking.

“ my gun doesn’t have a scope “ she held out her own gun to you, swapping it with your own

“ have at em “

“ alright “ you moved to stand closer to her, looking through the scope at the small group of runners aimlessly wandering around across the way.

You were a pretty decent shot. Better than others in town for sure. But you were no one if not an opportunist. So you missed your first two shots. And then your third. Repressing your smile when you heard her slightly frustrated sigh.

“ I’m getting there im getting there “ you said, missing a fourth shot.

“ you’re wasting all my fuckin ammo that’s what you’re doing. Come here “ she moved to stand behind you, her hands falling over yours to readjust your hold, her chest pressed firmly against your back. You didn’t hold back your smile that time, unable to hold onto the giant grin that spread across your face at her closeness “ now try “ she said, stepping back but holding her hands to your shoulders.

You made the shot. Of course you did. Even if it did take a second longer than normal to steady your aim, Tess’ hands on you throwing you off.

“ that’s it “ she praised “ good girl keep that up “ that threw you again, freezing a little at the term of endearment. The praise. From her. God you were fucked.

You cleared the ridge of infected and turned your head to look at her with a beaming smile.

“ pretty good huh? “ she was much closer than you’d thought, so close you could see the individual lashes on her eyelids, the freckles that sprinkled across her nose.

“ pretty good “ she confirmed, she had a slightly quizzical look on her face as she looked at you. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Then she reached for her gun and stepped back.

“ sometimes some down by the ski lift too. Then we’ll grab the horse and head into the town “ you gave a nod and followed her.

She made quick work of the couple stragglers by the ski lift before you headed back down the track towards the lodge.

“ you like watching me “ she noted as you walked, catching you slightly off guard “ you’re not subtle about it so don’t bother saying you don’t “ you wouldn’t lie to her anyway. You weren’t ashamed. And if you were as un subtle as she said? Then what was the point anyway.

“ I do “ you confirmed with a shrug “ you’re nice to look at “ she scoffed at that, her face giving nothing away on what she really thought “ you watch me too “

“ you’re nice to look at “ she echoed, teasing tones to her words and a glance in your direction. She looked you up and down for a moment before looking back at the trail in front of her.

She had looked you up and down for barely a second, but it had made your cheeks burn. One simple look from her made you crazy. That paired with the ‘good girl’ from earlier was sending you into a spin.

She had said it to you once before whilst round at Ellie’s and Ellie had teased you for days about how flustered it had made you. It often made you wonder if Ellie knew of your ever growing desire for her pseudo mom. But probably not. Ellie was incredibly clever but oblivious as all hell when it came to things like that.

She had still questioned if Dina even liked her after the first time they had kissed, still asked you from time to time if you were ‘ sure she doesn’t have a thing for Jesse? ‘ as if Dina and her weren’t practically attached at the hip.

You wondered how she’d react if she knew. How Joel would react. How anyone would. It wasn’t like the gap in your ages was huge. You weren’t some doey eyed teenage running after a grown ass adult. You were an adult. Albeit a younger adult than her. But. Still. You wondered if it would raise eyebrows.

Though a part of you kind of liked that. In fact you really liked that. You could already picture how unbelievably smug you’d feel walking around with her, how much you’d love to shove it right into the faces of the other people in town who had tried it with her- and failed quite miserably from what you had seen and heard.

It was actually quite frustrating how she batted people away and yet still managed to make you jealous when you weren’t the full centre of her attention.

You made it back down to the lodge and Tess helped you back up onto the horse, happy to have your arms back around her again as you headed down into the small town.

“ is there usually infected down here? ���

“ no. They tend to stay higher up. Don’t ask why cause I don’t fuckin know “ you smiled at that, immediately knowing that Ellie and her one million and one questions about everything were probably the reason behind her immediate request for no questions “ hold tight it’s bumpy down here “ you didn’t need to be told twice for that.

“ it’s nice out here isn’t it? “ you said as you crossed a small stream “ almost romantic right? “ Tess scoffed at that

“ you don’t strike me as the romantic type sweetheart “

“ oh? And what’s that supposed to mean”

“ you know “

“ I don’t “ you feigned innocence, knowing exactly what she did mean but wanting to make her say it. That she knew about you trying to her attention. That she paid enough attention to hear about the occasional fling with townsfolk with the soul purpose of making her jealous. You needed your delusions confirmed.

“ oh. Then I guess it’s not you that’s seducing anyone that comes within ten feet of me? Funny. Could’ve sworn it was you “ she knew. She’d noticed. It had worked.

“ I think you’re a little confused Tess “ you said close to her ear, trying to suppress your smile “ now why would I do that? “ you pushed the most innocent tone you could, a picture of pure demure innocence that was as far from the truth as could be.

No sweet innocent girl would spend her time fantasising about fucking her best friends mom.

“ I told you to be careful sweetheart. Do as you’re told “ her voice had taken on that low, almost threatening sultry tone it had done in the Bison. The one warning you to stop because she would eventually break and you didn’t want her to break.

But god did you want her to.

You reached the town with the air so thick between you you felt like you could cut it with a knife but you tried to ignore it and do your job.

“ we check in the buildings? “ you asked

“ just patrol the street. House down the end there? There’s a lookout log, we mark it off and head back. Then kill time until it’s time to change. Told you this route is easy “ you nodded and jumped down from the horse, grabbing your gun again just in case.

You made your way quietly down the street, your eyes looking at every single house you passed. Anytime you came across old buildings it made you wonder who had been there before. What the towns and houses looked like before they were derelict. Where were the people now? How many of them were still alive?

“ you ever live in a place like this? “ you asked. You didn’t know a whole lot about Tess and her past. In fact you knew nothing about her before the apocalypse. Ellie had never told you anything. You knew about some of the things she got up to in the 20 years before she’d found Ellie. Tommy had told you. Ellie had mentioned things. But pre apocalyptic Tess? You knew nothing

You wondered what she had been like and how much she had changed.

“ no “ was all she said.

“ where did you live? “

“ Detroit “ she said again, simple and matter of fact “ you? “ she was deflecting the topic away from her.

“ Jackson. Jackson. And er. Jackson. I’ve never seen anywhere else. What’s Detroit like? “ she shrugged

“ fine. I don’t like cities “

“ why? “

“ you ask a whole lot of questions sweetheart “ maybe spending so much time with Ellie really was rubbing off on you.

“ I’m just interested in you “ Tess scoffed again, glancing over at you for a moment

“ really? Never would’ve fuckin guessed that “

You both went quiet again as you walked. She looked like she wanted to say something else but was too distracted. Stopping in her tracks outside one of the houses in the street.

“ you hear that? “ she whispered.

You did. The shuffling and quiet sobs and groans that could only be infected. Tess slowly reloaded her gun and nodded in the direction she wanted you to follow her. You held your gun firmly, crouching below the window ledge next to Tess.

“ we’re gonna do this nice and quietly “ she said, her voice steady and low “ knife? “ you withdrew it from where you kept it tucked in your boot and she nodded “ okay. Nice. And quiet “ you had taken down infected more times than you could count, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying each time.

One bite and you’d be a goner. That’s all it took.

Tess carefully climbed though the window, you close on her heels. Once inside the house you spotted two. Thankfully. Easy. Tess made light work of the one furthest away and you took down the other just as swiftly, quiet in your approach before plunging your knife into its skull, angling it’s head backwards so it’s teeth couldn’t grab at you.

Tess snuck through into the next room, clearly hearing something else as you carefully lay the body on the ground, wiping the blood from your knife on the remaining upholstery of the couch. She was dropping the body of another infected to the floor as you joined her.

“ I don’t hear anymore “

“ should we check upstairs? “ Tess nodded and you led the way, careful on the stairs that looked ready to collapse at any moment. Upstairs you found a dead body, one that clearly hadn’t been as strong when the infection had taken over. You were just thankful for the fact that roof was half collapsed, fresh air spilling into the room so that the spores had dispersed.

“ this one’s done “ Tess said, looking over the body. You wondered how long it had been there. You guessed a while, the floor surrounding it was covered in dried out tendrils, the legs of the person practically melting into the hardwood. It made you sad to think about anyone ending up that way “ let’s go. We need to mark this down in the log “

She left the room before you, mildly fixated on the body on the floor. You’d never want to end up that way. The second you got bit you’d shove a gun in your mouth and end it before the fungus could control your mind. No way would you end up like that.

You left the room to find Tess had already gone back downstairs. But before you could make the precarious trip back down, you heard something. You assumed it was probably another runner that you had both somehow missed and decided to take it out too. Last thing you needed was it getting out into the street.

So you snuck into the room on the opposite side of the hall, pushing open the door slowly.

But what you found was not a runner. It was far worse.

It happened too fast for you to even process exactly what was happening at first. One second you were looking at the rotting wood of the door, the next the split open face of a clicker was bearing down on you.

You were too shell shocked to even scream, simply pushing and kicking to keep the gnashing teeth of the clicker away from you. The screeches it made made your ears ring, deafening you as it desperately tried to bite. To spread.

“ Tess! “ you frantically fumbled around for your knife, not sure where it had slid off to and unable to reach down for your gun.

The screeching was only drowned out by the sound of a gunshot. Blood splattering over your face as Tess shot it in the back of the head, it still screeching and wriggling to bite you. To fill your blood with fungus and control your mind.

She appeared above you, kicking it off and shooting a further two bullets into its face until it stopped squirming. It lay twitching on the ground for a few moments before going still. You pushed yourself onto your elbows trying to catch your breath.

“ well shit “ you gasped, looking up at Tess who was watching you intently, her eyes wide in concern. And maybe shock at how that was your reaction. But what else were you supposed to say?

You felt something twisting deep in your belly, the way she had thrown herself in harms way to protect you. How she looked stood there with her stern face looking down at you. Powerful. Strong.

You’d never wanted her so badly. Which was funny to think about. You’d just nearly died. But there you were simply thinking about your knight in shining armour.

“ you okay? You gotta be more fucking careful “ she held her hand out to you, pulling you up to your feet again. She ran her hands over your arms and turned your face in her hands “ clean? “ you were lost for words and simply nodded.

You didn’t entirely know what it was. Maybe it was the fact she had protected you without a second thought, had put herself in harms way. Killed for you. Maybe it was just the adrenaline cursing through your bloodstream.

“ well, could at least say thank you sweetheart “

You couldn’t help yourself.

You dove forward, kissing her without a second thought, wrapping your fingers around her wrists that were still holding your face.

It was like she had expected it. Kissing you back in an instant, her grip on your face tightening to move you how she wanted. You had initiated it but she had the control. She took your breath away. Your lungs burning with the lack of air but you didn’t want to stop. It was a little desperate, pure adrenaline and lust and nothing more. But you didn’t mind.

You were too focussed on her. Her taste. Her lips. They were as soft as they looked, pillowy against your own. She kissed you like you were her source of air, as equally desperate as you. Which was an interesting revelation for saying how long she had been rejecting your advances.

She broke away first, leaving you gasping for air as she scanned your face with her eyes. She held you for a second longer before stepping back.

“ I think that was all of them I don’t hear anything else “ she said in a steady tone “ let’s go fill in the log. And head back “ she turned before you could answer her, question whether or not she was angry or as happy as you were. You could never tell with Tess. She was too difficult to read and it was annoying. Because she was so incredibly good at reading everyone else.

You followed on her heels as she went back downstairs and walked in purposeful strides towards the house at the end of the street, from the outside it looked like all the other abandoned ones in the town. But she lead you up the half collapsed stairs and into the bedroom at the front of the house. The log was hidden under a box in the closet, months and months worth of patrol logs written down.

You glanced over as she filled it in, noticing most of the patrols were marked by her or Joel.

You didn’t know if you should talk about what had happened. The infected or the kiss. Or both. So you decided to just say nothing, watching as she noted down the infected in the house and up on the ridge, marking it as now all clear. Though it did sting ever so slightly that she wasn’t acknowledging it. Acting as though it simply hadn’t happened.

“ okay. Let’s go “

The house was on the edge of the town, a stream running along the back. You wondered if it was the same one you’d seen earlier. Tess stopped beside it, kneeling down to cup some of the water in her hands and wash the blood that had gotten on her face. You joined her, washing away the blood from the clicker and rinsing your hands in the cool water.

“ thank you “ you said suddenly. Realising you still hadn’t said it. Tess looked up at you with a small look of confusion, drying her hands off on her jeans “ for the clicker. Saving me “ she shrugged and stood up again, nodding back up the street.

“ it’s nothing. Let’s go “ you sighed, a little frustrated that that was all she had to say about it

“ it’s not nothing “ you said as you hurried to keep up with her “ you saved my life “

“ let’s not be dramatic now sweetheart “ dramatic. You huffed in mild annoyance and followed her back to the horse. How was she so blasé about it? Yes clickers weren’t exactly a new thing. And she had killed hundreds of them before. But she had still saved you. Had still stopped one turning you into a mushrooms little puppet.

“ I don’t think me saying thank you for killing a clicker for me is being dramatic Tess “ the glance she gave you was almost amused. Like she found it funny. Like what you were saying was stupid or funny. It was annoying “ don’t look at me like that “

“ like what? “ you didn’t even bother to answer her as you both headed back up the street. You mind began drifting back to the image of her standing above you, to how concerned she had looked as she frantically checked you for bites. You’d not seen her switch up so fast before. From looking so sinister and stern to looking almost soft.

Soft Tess was rare. You saw it so very little. Only in glimpses in those nights spent at Ellies, possible cracks in her strong facade. Light leaking through the gaps and showing what she might have been like before.

Had she had a family? Spent nights frequently like those with you, Ellie and Joel? But with her husband. Or wife. Did she have kids? Had she been alone? There was so much you wanted to know but quite certain you never actually would. She was too closed off. Those parts of her buried deep deep down so that maybe even she couldn’t reach them anymore.

You had seen it in others before. Seen how much the infected world had changed them, left them a shell of who they used to be. You couldn’t help but wonder how broken Tess was. You couldn’t imagine her as someone who was happy and joyful and that was sad. Because you knew at some point she had been.

A small, cocky part of you liked to think you’d get through that hard shell eventually. You’d pick away at her until she showed you some glimpse of the past her.

No time soon though. That shell was there to stay for now. But you didn’t mind. You liked her now. You liked her tough exterior and her intimidating gaze. You liked the adrenaline she sent cursing through you blood. You thought that maybe the nice and caring type wasn’t really the person for you.

Tess was.

The ride back to the lodge was quiet, your arms wrapped back around her again with your hands resting on her stomach. You could feel the heat seeping through her shirt now. From the adrenaline of the infected no doubt, you wanted to untuck the fabric from her jeans or carefully undo the buttons. Feel how hot her skin was, how it feel against your fingertips.

You almost laughed at yourself. How quickly your mind could dart back to the ever underlying lust that constantly bubbled in your veins.

She didn’t help you off the horse this time, dismounting herself and heading into the lodge. You got the idea that the ride to the lodge had given her time to think. A tension settling in the air now.

Was she annoyed? Angry?

You guessed the only way to tackle it was head on.

“ are we gonna talk about it? “ you asked as she dropped her bag down on the table, placing her gun down beside it. She didn’t look up at you, shedding her jacket too “ Tess “

“ what do you want me to say? “

“ anything “ she scoffed and looked over at you. She had that look again. That warning. That look that was almost dangerous.

“ anything “ she echoed, mocking.

“ even if you want to pretend I didn’t- we. Didn’t. At least tell me that for fucks sake “ you said, throwing your hands up in annoyance before leaning back against the bar with a sigh. She was so frustrating at times.

“ is that what you think? Is that what you want? “

“ no of course it’s not “ she was watching with a deep intensity, focussed and determined. It made you squirm “ I’ve wanted to kiss you for months “ you confessed with some new confidence “ and I know you did too “

“ oh? You know? “ she said with a small laugh, mocking again. She’d been doing that a lot. If it had been anyone else it would have pissed you off.

“ yes. I see how close you are to cracking “ you said, eyebrow raised and some cockiness dug up from god knows where. You knew it would push her buttons deliciously. She didn’t like being challenged. She didn’t like anyone attempting to one up her, get in her head and know what she was thinking. What she did enjoy was crushing that person like an ant under her boot, kicking them two pegs back where they belonged.

“ you think you know me now? Huh? “

“ I do “ she scoffed. Again.

“ you know nothing sweetheart “ her tone was growing lower. Darker. It made butterflies burst in your stomach. It was working. You were so close you could taste it. So close to kicking down those final bricks of the wall she’d built between you both.

“ I know you want me as badly as I want you “ you pushed yourself off the bar and took a few steps forward. The air was suffocating. So thick it was almost making you feel too warm “ so what’s stopping you Tess? I’m right here “ her gaze was piercing. Burning into you so intensely that you had to fight to keep up your confident facade.

“ you never listen. Do you? “ she said calmly “ I told you to be careful “ she had. A lot. But you knew there was something else below that. Something you were so close to finally reaching “ I don’t think this is you being careful “

“ I know “ she moved towards you then, slow but purposeful. Stalking. A predator hunting prey. A fox waiting to dive onto a rabbit and tear it to pieces. Backing you up until your back hit the bar again.

“ what do you want from me? Huh? “ her voice was low, gravely. It made your heart beat fast and something twist deep in your stomach. You wondered if anyone else would be scared. Intimated. If anyone else would back down and walk away. You wouldn’t. You refused.

“ you already know “ it wasnt as confident as you wanted, lower and softer. She was in your space now. She only had an inch or so on you in height, yet you felt tiny. Small. Your breath stuttered.

She nudged her fingers under your chin, tilting your face upwards so you’d look her in the eyes.

“ everyone back in town… they think you’re so good don’t they? “ she said, her eyes burning into yours. It made your knees weak “ but look at you. Listen to you “ her words were teasing. Mocking. Like she was making fun of you but you didn’t even care. You couldn’t think straight. Not with her that close, touching you, looking at you like that “ you’re not good “

“ you’re not good “

“ no “ she confirmed without missing a beat “ I’m not good. But you like that don’t you? “ did you like that she wasn’t good? That she had done bad things and had no ounce of shame about. That she would go to those lengths for the people she loved

Yes.

You did like it.

You wanted her to do those things for you. To go to those lengths.

“ I asked you a question “

“ yes “ you answered immediately, the most confident sounding thing you’d said so far “ yes I like it “

“ does Maria know you behave like this? Think like this? Does Ellie? What would they say huh? “ her other hand came up and brushed your hair away from your face, tucking it softly behind your ear. It felt too gentle in comparison to how she was talking to you “ what would they say if they knew what went on in this pretty little head of yours, hmm? “

“ I don’t know… I don’t think they know. But I’m not subtle am I? “ you tried to joke but her intensity made your breath stutter again.

“ you’re not subtle “ she confirmed “ you’re desperate “ you nodded almost instantly. What was the point in denying it when it was so clearly obvious to her?

“ and I keep pushing you away yet… you keep coming back “

“ you don’t scare me. You can tell me to be careful as much as you like. I don’t care “ that made her smile, huffing a small laugh through her nose.

“ you know the things I’ve done? “ you nodded again “ and you like them “ another nod. She was quiet again for a few moments, eyes slowly scanning down your face and to where she had her body pressed against yours “ does it make you wet? “ she asked with a smirk, your cheeks flooding with warmth at the question “ it does “ you couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Finally “ what do you want from me? “ she asked again, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip lightly. You had to fight the urge to pull her into your mouth and trap it between your teeth.

“ you “ you said simply “ I want you. I need you “ her eyes narrowed a little, the smirk still on her face. She seemed to be thinking, milling it over in her mind and you knew it would only take one more simple thing to finally make her crack completely “ don’t you want me too? “ you asked, voice full of innocence.

She spun you around, trapping you between her and the bar, her hand gripping tightly to your chin to pull you back tightly against her and brushing her lips against the shell of your ear.

“ do you know how much I do? How much I think about this? About you? “ she murmured, her lips pressing against your exposed neck “ do you know how hard it’s been for me trying to restrain myself? With you throwing yourself at me like a bitch in fuckin heat? “ you pushed your ass back against her as an answer, pushing her to finally give in. She was so close.

Her other hand slid down over your ass, unashamedly groping at you through the worn, soft denim of your jeans.

“ then stop restraining yourself. No one’s stopping you “ you wanted to sound confident and cocky, but it came out breathy and quiet.

“ you don’t know what you’re asking me for “

“ I’m asking you to fuck me. Show me how badly you’ve wanted me “ she seemed to hesitate for a moment and you pushed yourself back against her again “ you think I should be scared of you. I’m not “

“ then maybe you’re stupid “

“ maybe I am “ it seemed to be enough persuasion, as her hand moved around to the front and unbuttoned your jeans with ease.

You pushed them down as far as you could reach before she could, too desperate to get them all the way off. But your confidence seemed to vanish the moment she cupped her hand over your covered cunt, palm pressing against you in a way that made you sigh softly.

“ sensitive “ she murmured seemingly to herself, tracing her finger over the outline of your pussy lips and the small wet patch that was already forming on the cotton of your underwear “ already wet for me sweetheart? “ your brain short circuited at that. All your cockiness and confidence melting away.

“ yes. Just for you “ you could feel your underwear flooding as the words left your mouth, as silky and seductive as you could muster. And it clearly worked. She hooked her fingers into your underwear and pushed them down so you could wiggle out of them. Your cheeks burned at being exposed to her. It was what you had wanted for so long. And now it was finally happening.

You pushed yourself back against her again, urging her to touch you properly. You were desperate for it.

“ such a desperate, pathetic little thing “ she said, mocking in her words. The degrading words made you squeeze your thighs together, your cheeks flushing “ ah ah. Legs apart. Be a good girl. You’ve been throwing yourself at me for months and now you try hide from me? “ you did as you were told immediately, moving your legs apart as she slipped her hand down. Her fingers ghosted over you, barely touching at first as she wrapped her fingers around your throat to keep you held back against her.

“ you feel so good “ she murmured, her fingers simply sliding between your folds, spreading you open and gathering your arousal on the pads of her fingers “ so fuckin wet for me “ you whimpered pathetically as some kind of answer, nerves buzzing at finally being touched by her “ where’s that fuckin attitude now huh? “ she teased, still avoiding your clit “ not so brave now? No? “ you were slightly embarrassed to admit the mocking tone she kept using was simply making you wetter.

You’d be lucky if you lasted ten fucking seconds.

“ please stop teasing “ you whined like some spoilt brat, you knew it would have absolutely zero effect on her but you had no shame.

“ you think you get to make demands? Hmm? That’s not how this works “ she squeezed at your throat, sending you light headed and fuzzy, effectively rendering you speechless “ so stupid you can’t even speak “ she sighed, a mock disappointment in her words that made you whimper.

Your previous confidence was obsolete. But that was what you’d expected. What you’d wanted. You knew she’d break you.

“ you don’t get to make demands do you understand? “ she said in that sultry, stern voice as she released her grip on your neck and turned you around so she could look at you.

“ yes “ you whispered

“ you’re gonna do as you’re told “ her fingers dipped between your folds again, pressing lightly at your entrance. You clenched around nothing, like some silent request for her to just push that little bit further. You needed to know what those fingers felt like inside of you, you’d spent so long staring at them. Imagining. You couldn’t wait any longer it was torture “ and I’m gonna fuck you how I want to “ you nodded frantically, no shame in your desperation for her now. You were quite sure in that moment you’d do literally anything she asked “ and you don’t come until I tell you to okay? “

The moan that escaped your parted lips was pathetic as she finally pushed past the tight muscles at your entrance, pushing as deep as she could get.

“ there we go. That’s what you wanted isn’t it? “ you couldn’t speak, eyes falling closed as you attempted to try and figure out whether or not this was all just some incredibly vivid dream.

You were certain any second you’d wake up in your bed, having dreamt the entire goddamn thing. But the way your skin was prickling with heat, the way her fingers felt as she set herself into a steady rhythm thrusting in and out of you… it had to be real.

She was speaking to you but you couldn’t focus enough. She wasn’t even really doing much. Her rhythm was steady. Her hand not even touching your clit. Yet you were on cloud nine. Pleasure trickling through every single drop of blood in your veins, the simple fact that it was actually happening making you want to explode with joy.

You had waited so long. Worked so hard. And now it was finally in action.

When she realised you weren’t exactly listening to her, she pressed the heel of her hand against your clit so hard it made you see stars.

“ silly little girl thought she could handle it “ Tess said, sucking her teeth and sighing “ barely fuckin touching you and look at the state of you “ you almost wished you could see. Wished you had a mirror to see how much she was ruining you with such little effort.

“ I can handle it “ you mumbled, forcing yourself to focus harder “ I can “

“ you can? “

“ mhm “ she took it as a challenge. Angling her fingers at a spot inside of you you could so rarely find yourself, hitting it over and over again at a relentless pace. Her palm brushing against your throbbing clit with every single movement. Your fingers wrapped around her wrist and she removed the hand still loosely holding your neck to pull your hand away instantly.

“ hands to yourself. Did I tell you could touch me? I don’t think I did “ you resorted to gripping at the worn wood of the bar as she continued back to her previous actions.

The way she was looking at you was too intense, the way she was smiling as she fucked you. Watching every little detail of your face.

You had thought about it too long and dreamt of it for too long, that you were quite sure you were gonna come any second. It had hardly been a couple minutes and you were done already? It was quite embarrassing

“ you need to come already sweetheart? Already? “ you closed your eyes, whines and moans tumbling last your lips as you gave her a small nod. She could read you so well it was scary. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and anticipating the inevitable mocking that was coming your way “ I thought you were better than that. Do you remember what I told you? Hmm? “

“ don’t. Don’t come until you say “ you gasped, nails scratching at the hardwood as she started circling your clit “ fuck. Tess “

“ not yet. You can take some more can’t you? This is what you wanted “ your legs began to shake as she added a third finger, stretching you out around her digits. It was almost too much at first, the surprise and the overwhelming feeling of the initial burn that quickly slipped into pleasure as she squeezed at your neck again.

You could hear your pulse hammering in your ears, throbbing in your temples. The pressure back on your clit again was the final straw. You couldn’t hold on much longer

“ Tess i need to- fuck “

“ what do you say? “ she said in a calm tone, almost bored. As if what she was doing was completely normal, like you watching a movie or something else completely mundane. Not that she was fucking you in the middle of the lodge.

“ please “ you gasped “ please Tess “ you fought to stave it off, trying to angle your hips away from her in some hopes it would move her off the spot that was making you see stars. But she had you trapped and you were stuck there “ Tess “

She milled it over for a few more moments before sighing.

“ okay. Show me what you look like when you come “ you didn’t need telling twice, letting go and gripping painfully hard to the bar as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs shook as she kept up her movements, not stopping even when you went slack. You wiggled to get out of her grasp as she kept thrusting her fingers against your sensitive walls, a squeal of a moan as she pushed against your clit.

“ Tess “ she finally let you go, withdrawing her hand and making you wince “ fuck “ she gripped at your face as you tried to catch your breath, breathing heavily as she scanned your face.

“ do you come that hard for the others? “ she asked, eyes narrowing slightly as she waited for your response.

“ no “ you whispered. She looked incredibly put together still, barely breaking a sweat, her shirt still tucked in, hair still tied up. You knew it was a stark comparison to how you looked.

You wanted to make her look messy. To make her sweat. Make her moan. Wreck that stoney facade.

But she grabbed your wrist as you reached out for the buttons of her jeans.

“ no. You don’t deserve that yet “ you whined in protest but she simply sighed and gave you that mock look of pity as she pushed your hair from your face softly “ you told me you could handle this. So you’re gonna prove it. You think you get to come once and then you’re done? No “

“ I don’t know if I can “ you said with a small laugh. Not exactly wanting to tap out but your legs were jelly. You wanted to touch her even if just to give you time to regroup. To recover. To prepare for what was next.

“ yes you can “ she said without missing a beat “ you’re not done until I say you are. I thought you said you could handle it? “ she repeated her earlier statement

“ I can “ she pulled a face of mock pity, tucking her fingers under your chin so you’d look at her

“ poor baby thought she could take it “ her voice was dripping in sarcasm and you huffed in annoyance. You could “ I thought you were better than this. once and you’re done? That’s pathetic “

“ I. Can. just- fuck can we sit?” Tess grinned at your defiance, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to one of the large couches. She sat down, pulling you onto her lap so your back pressed against her chest

“ better? “ you nodded. It actually was. Your legs had felt like utter jelly “ spread your legs “ you took a moment to comply, getting your energy back. She tapped your thigh with the back of her hand “ do as you’re told “ you complied immediately with that, letting her grab at you and move you how she wanted you “ you gonna be a good girl for me? “

“ yes “ you whispered as her arm looped around your neck, her other hand groping at your chest through the thin material of your shirt. She pressed kisses to your cheek, such gentle gestures in comparison to how she was holding you.

“ gonna be such a good girl hmm? “ she cooed, still peppering your face in kisses as she groped at you “ my pretty girl huh? “ you felt like you were floating, eyes falling closed at the blissful feeling of being called hers ‘my pretty girl’. Hers. Hers. It was softer than how she had been a few moments ago“ you’re all mine now hmm? “

“ yes “ you breathed out, her hand skimming down across your stomach towards the already sticky mess between your legs “ yes im yours. That’s all I want “ you whimpered as her fingers brushed over your sensitive clit lightly

“ of course you do. You’d do anything for me wouldn’t you? So desperate for my approval. My attention “ you nodded immediately, never more certain on anything. You’d do anything and everything she asked of you. You felt her smile against your skin at your fast answer, her teeth nipping at your ear as she slipped her fingers back into you again.

A drawn out moan left your throat at the feeling of her inside of you again. You needed it constantly. Needed her that close, apart of you. You hadn’t realised just how empty you had felt once she was back inside of you again. She loosened her hold on you slightly, replacing her arm around your neck with her hand on your throat again, barely squeezing but enough to remind you she was there. That she had that power. That she was in control. As if you’d ever think any different.

You wondered if you should be concerned by it. She had your life quite literally in her hand. But you liked it. You liked how small it made you feel. Liked the power she had over you. The dizzy feeling she gave you when she squeezed. You knew Tess liked it because she liked the power. She liked the control she had over you.

Your walls were still sensitive from before, squirming in her lap as she moved her fingers inside of you expertly. It made you wonder how she was so good. How many people had she had before you? Did she call those people hers too? Or were you different? It made jealousy rise in your chest, pushing your hips down and grinding on the hand that was fucking you. Desperate to come again in some attempt to prove to yourself that you were different.

Because you were certain it wasn’t possible for anyone to feel as good as you did in that moment. She could never have made anyone else feel like that. Never.

“ oh? Greedy girl “ she said with a small laugh, pressing the heel of her hand hard against your clit the same as she had done before in a way that made your vision flash white, your fingers digging into her skin in a way that must be painful. But she said nothing.

“ I’m yours “ you whimpered, mostly to console yourself more than ask her to confirm it “ I’m yours “

“ yes. You’re all mine “ she confirmed as you rutted against her hand, chasing your next orgasm “ my girl. My special girl that I can use however I want to, isn’t that right? “ the words were almost soft. Loving. But the tone of her voice was so different to that “ keep going. Like that. Show me how desperate you are, keep fucking yourself on my fingers. That’s a good girl “

She urged you on as you continued rutting against her hand. A few minutes ago you hadn’t been sure you could take anymore. And yet now you were chasing another orgasm.

She dropped her hand from around your throat, hand slipping under your shirt to grab at your chest. You took the opportunity to look down at where you were grinding down on her hand. You were mesmerised by the way her fingers disappeared inside of you, taking her down to the knuckles.

She had nice hands, you’d always thought that. But they looked far prettier thrusting in and out of your cunt, shiny and sticky with your arousal. You liked that. You liked the possessive feeling that swelled in your chest. She was covered in you. She was holding you. Fucking you.

“ you like watching? “ Tess said lowly in your ear, nudging her lips against your burning skin “ look at that pretty cunt. All wet for me “ she grazed her teeth over the skin of your neck and you closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of her voice. The sound of the moans spilling past your lips, the lewd wet sounds of your cunt gripping to her fingers as you rolled your hips “ how long have you been thinking about this? “ she asked in a low voice, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke “ tell me”

“ ever since- ever since you arrived in Jackson “ you confessed, trying and failing to steady your breathing “ so long “

“ how many times did you touch yourself thinking about me? Hmm? How many times did you play with this pretty pussy and wish it was me? “ her crude words made you flush and you tried to focus your thoughts

“ so many times “ you whined “ so many”

“ such a pretty head with such disgusting thoughts “ You nodded frantically in agreement, orgasm so close you could practically taste it.

“ can I come? Please. Please “

“ not yet. A little longer “ you whined in response “ you held it before. Hold it again “ you focussed all your energy on ignoring how badly you wanted to come again, ignored the throbbing of your clit and the way your walls involuntarily fluttered around her fingers “ ah. Keep watching. Eyes open, watch “ she said, noticing your eyes had fallen closed.

“ please Tess “ she ignored your plea, sucking and nipping at your neck instead. There’s no way you’d be able to hide those when you went back. She was purposefully going to make it difficult for you. Of course she was “ Tess”

“ no “ it was becoming impossible to hold it off. Was she really going to make you wait until she said?

“ Tess I can’t- “

“ do. As you’re told “ she said sternly, you could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and you tried to focus on anything other than her. Of all the people you had been with, no one had ever made you feel like that. That desperate. That hungry to climax.

The mixture of her fingers curling inside of you and her lips and tongue soothing the tender skin on your neck, it was pure heaven. Like one of your dreams plucked right from your head and brought to life.

The only thing that would make it better was if she’d just fucking let you come.

She worked at your neck for another minute or so, even taking a moment to admire her work. It felt like an eternity before she finally sighed and hummed in appreciation at the bruises blossoming on your skin, before finally giving you the permission you were craving.

“ you can come now “ you felt her smile at the animalistic sound that left your throat, body shaking as you came for the second time. You tried to close your legs, trap her hand where it was but she slapped your thigh and pushed your legs apart again “ I didn’t say you could move did I “ she let her grasp on you loosen when you squirmed away from her touch, shifting onto the couch beside her and running a hand through your hair. Needing to escape the overstimulation she was trying to give.

“ oh man “ you sighed as you steadied your breathing again, dropping your head backwards and closing your eyes. You were exhausted.

You wondered how long you’d been there. How long did you have to run over your return time before someone came looking? What would they say if they saw you like that? Completely fucked out, with Tess of all people. What would Ellie say if she found out you were basically fucking her mom.

Tess’ hands gentle grabbed at your face, making you look at her again.

“ don’t go falling asleep on me now sweetheart “ you couldnt even focus on her properly. Your body ached. There was a dull throb between your legs. You wanted to go home and sleep for the rest of the day. Maybe with her. Cuddled up in her bed, in sheets that smelt like her, in her clothes.

She wouldn’t let you do such a thing though.

“ is there something more interesting to you? “ she tapped your cheek with the back of her hand, pulling your full focus back onto her again “ look at you “ she mused, a smug smile pulling at her lips and her eyes dragging over you in a way that was almost mocking “ nothing going on in that pretty little head is there? No. Dumb little thing “

“ not dumb “ you mumbled “ not “ she scoffed

“ then give me one more? “ everything was too much, your entire body buzzing and frazzled and unable to pinpoint exactly where pleasure was seeping into pain “ one more. And we can stop “ a sick, sadistic part of you didn’t even want her to stop. You wanted her to keep going on and on and on until your body gave out on you, wanted her to fuck you until you passed out. You wondered for a moment if she would. No.

You knew she would.

She was getting off on breaking you, on snapping every support you had keeping you standing, squashing you into a helpless heap on the floor. And you loved it. Craved it.

“ one more” you whispered and she smiled, shifting your legs off of where you’d draped them over her lap.

“ let me taste that pretty little pussy “ the words made you whimper, but you were more than happy to oblige to her wishes. Who were you to decline her? It might be your one and only chance.

You let her position you how she wanted , like some rag doll with no control of her limbs. Pulling you by the hips over her face and guiding you down.

You should’ve known her tongue would be just as skilful as her fingers. Strong and wet on the sensitive skin of your cunt, flicking over your clit in a way that made your veins feel as though they were filled with pure electricity. Sharp sparks running through your limbs and making your legs twitch at the overstimulating feeling.

It was almost painful. You’d never been kept going that long. You were achy. Sore. But you also didn’t want her to stop.

She was more gentle now, easing you over the bump in the road so that it simply morphed into pleasure again.

You let her hold your hips, move you how she wanted, dragging the flat of her tongue over every inch she could reach. It felt so good. So unbelievably good that tears sprung in your eyes again.

Tess noticed.

“ fuck you look so pretty when you cry. Are those tears for me sweetheart? You wanted this didn’t you? This is what you wanted “ you couldn’t give her an answer, your brain was mush. Your legs were shaking. You weren’t entirely sure how much longer you could keep yourself upright. She pulled you back down, brain fuzzy as she fucked your practically abused hole with her tongue. Her fingers still digging into your hips to urge you to move, rocking you lightly against her face.

She lapped at you like she was starved. Humming her appreciation against you, making you gasp and groan at the vibrations it sent through you.

You didn’t ask for her permission to come. Didn’t have the energy. It hit you as blindingly hard as the others, your body shaking and pathetic squealing moans leaving your throat as she held you in place. She didn’t let up in her movements, her tongue still frantic and nose brushing your clit every time you squirmed. She held you there even when you tried to move away, vision blurring as she dragged her tongue over your oversensitive cunt until you were certain you were going to fall.

And at the last moment she let you go, letting you move away as you attempted to catch your breath. You were cautious that you might be slightly crushing her and attempted to stand and move only to give up and slump in a heap on the floor, head lolling back onto the couch.

You felt broken. Completely and utterly ruined. Your bones were liquid, muscles as useful as a newborn baby’s. A smile crept its way onto your face though. You had gotten exactly what you’d wanted. You heard Tess moving around behind you before her hands grabbed at you, tugging at you so you were cradled in her arms as she sat next to you on the floor.

“ you did so well “ she cooed “ I’m impressed “ you nudged your face against her neck and smiled again, she smelt like sweat and the pine soap from the store in town. It was soothing.

“ was i worth the waiting? “ you whispered, your cockiness returning. It made her chuckle

“ what do you think? “ you wondered how this would change things. You hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. Would this just be a one time thing? Would she go back to avoiding you now? You didn’t know. But you guessed even if she did, at least you’d had this.