#i swing both rays | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlyswan · 1 year ago

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summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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soulofapatrick · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss Me Tired - Percy Jackson x Female Reader

Summary: you can't sleep so go to find your best friend - Percy

Words: 1.9k

warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

I find myself tossing and turning, the sheets tangling around my restless limbs, as elusive sleep evades me once again. The Apollo cabin is quiet, the soft hum of night almost suffocating in its stillness. Moonbeams trickle through the window, casting gentle patterns of the wooden floors.

Grateful for being on the bottom bunk tonight, I slide from under the covers with practiced ease. The gentle thud as my feet meet the floor barely makes a sound, but each step feels amplified in the silence of the sleeping cabin. Slipping on a pair of shoes without lacing them up, I make my way to the door, my heart pounding louder than the muted thuds of my footsteps. The door creaks slightly as I ease it open, wincing at the noise before exhaling a relieved breath as it swings shut behind me.

Staying close to the comforting cover of shadows, I weave my way through the lingering clusters of campers, their hushed conversations mixing with the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The children of Nemesis and Nyx, silhouetted against the faint glow of the campfire, seem engrossed in their own whispered discussions, oblivious to my presence as I navigate the edges of their gathering.

I skirt the edges of the Poseidon Cabin, a refuge I’ve often visited, and slip inside, grateful for the cover of darkness. The familiar scent of saltwater and adventure lingers in the air. The cabin is eerily quiet, echoing with the absence of Percy—the solitary presence that usually defines it.

My steps echo softly against the wooden floor as I venture further in. The moonlight filters through the windows, causing elongated shadows that dance across the cabin’s interior. Percy��s empty bed confirms his absence, leaving the cabin strangely deserted.

Curiosity propels me deeper into the cabin, my gaze landing on the backdoor open, leading to the pontoons. The moon’s silvery trail illuminates the pathway to the water’s edge, inviting and ethereal. The realisation settles in—Percy, the sole child of Poseidon, often seeks solace by the lake, where the water sings the tales of his father’s realm.

The sight before me steal a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. Percy sits there, silhouetted against the shimmering reflection of the moon on the water, a portrait of quiet strength and contemplation. His unruly hair catches glimmers of moonlight, creating an otherworldly halo around him.

As I draw nearer, the tranquility that envelopes him seems almost tangible. The lake mirrors the night sky, stars dancing on its surface, and Percy, the living embodiment of that serene beauty, captures my attention entirely.

He turns at the faint rustle of my approach, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his pretty lips. His sea-green eyes, illuminated by the moon’s gentle glow, hold a depth that echoes the mysteries of the ocean. It’s mesmerising, the way he seems both a part of the night and a beacon within it.

Percy’s messy black hair catches the moonlight in a way that makes it seem like constellations have woven themselves into the strands, each unruly wave a testament to the untamed spirit he embodies. His lightly tanned skin, kissed by the sun’s rays and caressed by the gentle breeze, holds a warmth that feels inviting even in the cool night air.

As I settle next to him, a comfortable ease settles between us. Percy shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and I follow suit, instinctively resting my head on his shoulder. It feels oddly natural, as if this silent language of unspoken understanding has been written int he stars all along. The coolness of the night dissipates against the warmth of his presence. His shoulder, solid and reassuring beneath my head, carries the weigh of both the wards burdens and its beauty.

His sea-green eyes, s deep and enigmatic, gaze out into the horizon, the mysteries of the universe reflecting in their depths. The seven expression on his face speaks volumes, as if he’s a silent guardian, watching over the secrets of the night. The gentle breeze whispers secrets to the night, and I feels Percy’s arm, strong and comforting, wrap around my waist, pulling me a fraction closer to him. It’s a gesture of silent understanding, an unspoken invitation to share the weight of ur silent night-time musings.

“Why can’t you sleep, Mouse?” Percy’s voice, soft and inquisitive, breaks the tranquil silence with my stupid nickname he made for me. His concern is palpable, yet I hesitate to divulge the true reason behind my sexlessness, my heart pounding against the confession I’m afraid to voice.

I shift slightly, trying to evade the truth, the words catching in my throat as I struggle to articulate the turmoil within, “Just… thoughts, I guess. You know how it is.”

But it’s a hollow response, a mere veil covering the truth that simmers beneath the surface. The mere thought of Percy and Annabeth together as a couple, a union so celebrated and cherished among demigods, twists a knot in my stomach, a painful reminder of my unspoken feelings for him.

The fear of vulnerability and the ache of unrequited affection hold me captive in a silence that feels suffocating. I can’t bring myself to admit the ache his closeness evokes, the ache that surges every time I see them together, facing the world as a pair that everyone wants to see. The perfect couple.

A grumble of protest escapes my lips, as I know he sees through my lie as he stays silent, a frustrated sound that I can’t seem to contain. I turn my face, burying it in the comforting crook of his neck, hoping to hide the turmoil that threatens to spill over. His chest rumbles with a soft laughter, a sound that’s both comforting and teasing, pulling me out of my momentary retreat.

Before I realise it, his finger hooks gently under my chin, lifting my face to meet to gaze. The concern etched into his expression melts away any remaining resistance, coaxing me to open up even as my heart clenches with the vulnerability of it all.

“Hey,” He murmurs softly, his sea-green eyes searching mine, an unspoken invitation tp share whatever weighs on my mind.

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to dissipate. The urge to confess tugs at my heartstrings, a silent plea to unburden the ache that gnaws at me. But the words romain elusive, trapped behind a barrier of fear and insecurity.

My heart hammers against my chest as his thumb traces a gentle path across my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seeps into the cracks of my guarded emotions. I meet his gaze, sea-green eyes holding mine in a silent conversation that speaks volumes.

I feel myself drawn to him, my eyes inadvertently tracing the curve of his lips. The soft moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face in a way that feels almost surreal.

As my gaze lingers on his lips, a surge of emotions—longing, fear, and a yearning for something more—swirl within me. Self-control wavers as my heart takes over, propelled by an undeniable urge to bridge the gap between us.

Without warning, without calculation, I lean forward, closing the space between us. My lips meet his in a moment that feels both suspended in time and yet over too soon. It’s a soft, tentative touch, a leap of faith and vulnerability woven into the tender connection.

For a heartbeat, the world stills around us, the air crackling with the unspoken truth of our shared emotions. The warmth of his lips against mine like a revelation, a stolen moment that lingers as a testament to the unspoken desires I’ve kept hidden. But, just as quickly as it happens, the weight of the moment hits me, the reality crashing down like a tidal wave. I pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, my heart thundering in my chest, uncertainty clouding my thoughts.

“Perce… Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“

Before I can finish my stammered apology, the words tumbling out in a jumble of regret and confusion, Percy’s gentle touch silences my anxious ramblings. He leans in, cutting off my faltering speech with a soft yet determined press of his lips against mine. It’s a kiss that carries a subtle urgency, a reassurance woven into the tender connection that leaves me breathless and wide-eyed.

His lips, warm and inviting, mould against mine in a way that feels both familiar and utterly new. There’s a tenderness to his touch, a silent promise of understanding and acceptance that sends a shiver down my spine. His kiss tastes like the promise of untold stories, of shared secrets whispered in the stillness of the night.

My heart leaps in my chest, responding to his gentle yet confident touch. I reciprocate, tentatively at first, before letting myself be swept away by the overwhelming rush of emotions. My hands, initially hovering uncertainly in the space between us, find their place, one resting against his chest and the other timidly finds its way to his cheek, relishing the warmth and softness of his skin.

His hands, strong yet tender, find their place at the small of my back, pulling me closer in an embrace that feels both reassuring and exhilarating. The closeness of our bodies, the shared warmth between us, creates a cocoon of intimacy that blurs the boundaries of friendship and something more.

The moment lingers, suspended in a haze of shared emotions, before Percy breaks the kiss, his breath mingling with mine as he gently pulls me onto his lap. My knees rest on either side of his hips, a sudden rush of adrenaline mingling with the warmth of our closeness. Then, he guides me down, our bodies molding together in a dance of longing and unspoken desires. His hands, firm yet gentle, cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he leans in for another kiss.

This time, there's a hunger in his touch, a raw passion that ignites between us. Our lips meet again in a union fuelled by the unspoken confessions of our hearts. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a dance of lips and tongues that express the emotions we've kept buried for so long. His fervour is matched by mine as I respond eagerly, the longing I've harboured finally finding an outlet in this shared intimacy. The taste of his kiss is electrifying, a rush of emotions that consumes every inch of my being.

My hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer in a silent plea for more. Our bodies meld together, the heat of our closeness building an unspoken intensity that blurs the lines between friendship and an uncharted territory of passion.

In the soft moonlight, our embrace becomes a symphony of desire and longing, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection we've discovered. And as we lose ourselves in this intoxicating moment, the boundaries of what we were and what we might become blur in the heat of our shared passion.

“Come on sweetheart,” Percy finally pulls away, “You can sleep here tonight.”

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#percy jackson #percy Jackson x reader #percy Jackson x you #percy Jackson x y/n #percy Jackson smut #percy Jackson fluff #percy Jackson angst #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #pjo #percy jackson series #camp half blood #pjo fandom #percy Jackson one shots #percy Jackson headcanons #Logan lerman

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joelsrose · 24 days ago

Text

Good Neighbours: Chapter 3

previous chapter

Uncle Ray had been talking non-stop about something while you ate your breakfast, the sound of his animated voice filling the kitchen. You nodded occasionally, only half-listening as you focused on your plate.

Between bites of toast, you caught snippets about fishing gear, tents, and the best spots to pitch a campsite.

Last week he’d managed to convince you to spend the weekend camping by the lake—a prospect you weren’t exactly thrilled about.

But how could you say no? Ray had been nothing but kind to you, letting you stay with him while you figured out work and life.

A sudden knock at the door interrupted his monologue. "One sec," he said, setting his mug down and heading toward the front door.

You took the moment of quiet to exhale, picking at the crust of your toast. Then you heard it—Ray’s familiar greeting, but it was the name that made you freeze.

"Joel!"

Your heart skipped, and your cheeks burned as the memory of your last encounter came rushing back.

The towel. The awkwardness.

The fact that you’d practically fled the house afterward, muttering to Sarah about feeling sick, just to avoid seeing him again.

Now, here he was, just on the other side of the door.

Your ears strained as their conversation carried into the kitchen.

"You and Sarah decide to come camping with us?" Ray asked, his voice chipper.

Your head whipped toward the door. Camping? Joel?

"Nah," Joel replied, his voice as steady and smooth as ever. "Sarah’s got somethin’ on this weekend, but I’m free if you’ll have me."

Your stomach flipped. He’s coming?

"Perfect!" Ray said with enthusiasm. "I’ll send you the details, alright? Gonna be a good time—just like old times."

You stared down at your plate, your appetite suddenly vanishing as you tried to process this new development.

The thought of spending an entire weekend with Joel—tents, campfires, and all—made your pulse quicken in ways you weren’t sure you wanted to unpack.

Ray returned to the kitchen, grinning as he clapped his hands together. "Well, that’s settled! Joel’s joining us for the weekend."

"Great," you said, your voice higher than intended. You cleared your throat, willing your cheeks to cool. "Should be… fun."

Ray didn’t notice your sudden shift in demeanor, too busy rattling off plans for the trip.

But as you sat there, nodding absentmindedly, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the weekend with Joel Miller in such close quarters.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"Alright, we got…" Ray trailed off, listing a seemingly endless checklist of items as you stood by his truck, Joel beside you.

Joel had greeted you earlier, his tone warm and sweet as always, but you’d been quieter than usual, offering only a shy smile in return.

The memory of your last encounter still lingered in your mind, making it harder to meet his gaze without your cheeks warming.

Ray suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his expression twisting into one of realization. "Shit," he muttered, looking up abruptly.

Both you and Joel turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Joel asked, his voice calm but curious.

Ray scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowed. "Forgot the tent stakes."

Joel glanced toward the truck, then back to Ray. "I can run to the store and grab some."

"Nah," Ray said, shaking his head. "Got plenty at the shop. Just slipped my mind."

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. "I gotta swing by there anyway—got somethin’ to sort out real quick. Y’all go on ahead."

"Wait, what?" you said, blinking at him in surprise.

Ray waved a hand as if to brush off your concern. “You go with Joel. I’ll be right behind you. No sense in all of us sittin’ around when you can get there a bit ahead and start settin’ up.” He was already moving. “It’s a two-person job anyway.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but before you could say anything, Joel turned to you with an easy shrug.

"Sounds good to me," he said, his gaze steady as it met yours, a flicker of amusement playing at the corner of his lips when he noticed your expression.

You glanced between the two of them, feeling cornered. "Yeah, okay," you finally said, forcing a smile you hoped wasn’t too strained. "That’s fine."

"Perfect," Ray said, clapping his hands. "I’ll be right on your heels’."

Joel gave a small nod, tossing his keys into his palm as he motioned toward the truck. "C’mon," he said, his voice steady but carrying a teasing undertone that made your stomach flip.

As you turned, his hand tapped lightly against your lower back—not firm, but just enough to nudge you forward, a playful gesture that felt oddly intimate.

"Chop chop," he added, his tone carrying a smirk you didn’t need to see to feel.

Your steps faltered slightly, the unexpected touch making heat creep up your neck. "Alright, I’m moving," you muttered, trying to sound unbothered even as your pulse quickened.

As you climbed into the passenger seat, the realization of the situation hit you fully.

It was going to be just you and Joel, alone in the truck, heading to the campsite together.

And by the way he settled into the driver’s seat, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he adjusted the mirrors, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t entirely oblivious to the tension humming between you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The truck rumbled steadily along the open road, the low growl of the engine blending with the soft twang of an old country song drifting from the radio.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow across the rolling landscape, the light spilling through the windows in soft streaks.

Joel’s hands rested easily on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping absently to the rhythm of the music, the motion so unintentional yet somehow captivating.

You tried to focus on the scenery, letting your eyes trace the endless stretch of fields and trees as they blurred past. Or you pretended to scroll aimlessly on your phone, though your grip tightened every time the silence between you stretched a little too long.

About thirty minutes in, Joel glanced over at you, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "You always this quiet, sweetheart?"

You blinked, caught off guard, and quickly turned your head toward him. "What?"

"Been sittin’ here, waitin’ for you to say somethin’," he teased, his voice low and smooth, like he had all the time in the world. "Thought you might’ve fallen asleep on me."

"I—no, I’m just…" You trailed off, fumbling for a decent response under the weight of his gaze. "Taking in the view."

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little too knowing. "Uh-huh. That what you’re doin’? Seems to me like you’re avoidin’ lookin’ at me."

"I am not," you huffed, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, your voice carrying a hint of frustration—though more at yourself than at him.

Joel glanced over at you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hmm," he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. "Seems to me like you ran off the other day."

You blushed remembering the compromising position you had been caught in.

Is he seriously bringing this up?!

"I didn’t run off," you said quickly, shifting in your seat. "I just… wasn’t feeling well."

"Is that right?" he murmured, his tone dripping with skepticism. He turned his eyes back to the road, but you didn’t miss the way his lips quirked, like he was fighting back a grin.

"Poor baby," he cooed, his voice dipping lower, soft and teasing.

You froze, your eyes trained on the car window, a scarlet tinge painting your cheeks.

"Or maybe," he continued, his tone slow and deliberate, "you just got a little… embarrassed."

Your head whipped back toward him, your brows furrowing. "What? Why would I be embarrassed?"

Joel shrugged, the movement casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his eyes flicked over to you, sharp and knowing.

"I dunno," he said, feigning innocence. "Could’ve been the whole ‘caught-you-in-a-towel, dripping-all-over-my-kitchen-floor’ thing."

Your mouth dropped open, heat rushing to your face as you struggled to find a retort. "I—" you stammered, but nothing coherent came out.

Joel’s smirk deepened, and he gave a soft chuckle that was as maddening as it was alluring.

"C’mon now," he teased, his voice low and warm. "Ain’t nothin’ to be shy about, darlin’. Just thought it was funny how quick you bolted."

"I didn’t bolt," you snapped, though your voice was weak, your embarrassment only fueling his amusement.

Joel shook his head, his grin softening into something quieter, more thoughtful.

"Well, for what it’s worth," he said, his voice steady now, "I was makin’ pancakes for ya. Thought you might’ve stuck around long enough to try ‘em."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. The teasing edge was still there, but it was gentler now, almost like he was giving you an out.

Joel glanced at you again, his eyes warm but still glinting with mischief.

"Guess I’ll have to make ‘em for ya another time," he said.

Then, with a smirk that made your heart trip over itself, he added, "But next time, maybe try not to run off. Deal?"

You bit your lip, torn between mortification and the flicker of something lighter in your chest. "Deal," you muttered, your cheeks still burning as you turned back to the window.

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and low, curling through the air like it was meant just for you. It tugged at the corner of your mouth, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile—just a little.

“Plus,” he said, taking a slow glance in the rearview mirror before shifting his gaze to you, “you’re pretty cute when you’re flustered.”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

When you arrived at the campsite, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks. You weren’t much of a nature girl—that much was certain.

Cities had always been your preference, with their buzzing energy, brunch spots, and chic rooftop bars. But this… this was something else.

The lake stretched out like a sheet of glass, its surface catching the blue of the sky above. Surrounding it were towering trees that seemed to stand guard, their branches swaying softly as their leaves whispered secrets to the wind. The ground was a tapestry of earth and scattered pine needles, dappled with shadows from the sunlight breaking through the canopy above.

The air was cool and crisp, brushing against your skin with the kind of freshness you didn’t realize you’d been craving. It carried the subtle, grounding scents of pine and damp earth, mingling with the faint, refreshing tang of lake water.

Somewhere in the distance, the soft chirp of crickets began to fill the quiet, a sound that seemed to amplify the stillness.

“Wow,” you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away.

Joel was already unloading the truck, you couldn’t help but glance over, your eyes catching on the way his broad shoulders shifted as he lifted a heavy pack from the bed.

The fabric of his t-shirt stretched across his back, damp in places where the heat of the day had taken its toll, clinging in a way that left little to the imagination.

His arms flexed as he slung the pack over one shoulder, the muscles in his forearms tightening as he adjusted the straps with practiced ease.

His hair was messy, a little damp from the heat, and as he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, you couldn’t help but notice the way his lips parted, exhaling a quiet sigh.

"You just gonna stand there or give me a hand?" Joel teased, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as you scrambled to grab one of the bags. "Right. Sorry."

The two of you worked together to set up camp, Joel guiding you through the process with surprising patience. His voice was steady as he explained how to secure the tent, his hands brushing yours once or twice as he passed you supplies.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨�� ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, you were both seated on a log overlooking the lake, the golden-orange light reflecting off the water like fire.

You pulled your knees to your chest, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "This is beautiful," you said softly, almost to yourself.

Joel turned his head toward you, a small smile playing at his lips. "Yeah," he murmured. "It is."

You glanced at him and caught the way his eyes lingered—not on the lake, but on you. Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

"You come here often?" you asked, desperate to fill the silence.

Joel nodded, his smile turning wistful. “Used to. Sarah’s mom and I came here a lot when she was little,” he said, taking a swig of his beer he rummaged from the cooler earlier. “Sarah loved it out here.”

The mention of Sarah’s mom made you pause.

You hesitated, debating whether to ask the question lingering in your mind.

It felt like prying, but you couldn’t help yourself. "Is she… still in the picture?"

Joel’s expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes dimming just slightly.

He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze falling to the water. "No," he said simply, his voice low. "She, uh… found someone else when Sarah was about 8. Took off, never looked back."

Your heart clenched at the weight of his words. "Joel," you said softly, turning to face him. "I’m so sorry."

He shook his head, a faint, almost bitter smile tugging at his lips.

"Don’t be. Was a long time ago." He exhaled, his gaze far away now. "It’s just… you don’t forget, y’know? Even when you think you’re past it, some things stick with you."

You knew exactly what he meant—your own memories filled with pain, sorrow, and heartbreak.

You didn’t know what to say, so you reached out, letting your hand rest lightly on his forearm. His eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

"You’ve done a hell of a job with Sarah," you said gently, your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to rise. "She’s amazing. That’s all you."

Joel’s smile softened, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Thanks sweetheart’," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten.

Joel shifted beside you, his gaze fixed on the fading sunset, but there was a tension in his posture, a quiet hesitance that made your heart beat just a little faster.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and rough, like he’d been turning the words over in his mind.

“So, uh… you got a boyfriend or somethin’?” he asked quickly, following the question with another swig of his beer.

The question hung in the air, the weight of it surprising you. He didn’t look at you right away, his focus still on the water, but the way his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh betrayed his nerves. It almost sounded like it hurt him to ask.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Um, no. Not really." you said shaking your head at the thought of your ex.

Joel’s head tilted slightly, his eyebrows raising as he finally glanced at you. "Not really?" he repeated, his tone teasing but his expression curious. "Never heard of a relationship status like that before."

You laughed softly, bumping him lightly with your shoulder. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

His lips quirked into a small smile, and he leaned back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Well, I don’t. Enlighten me."

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your shirt as you tried to find the right words. "Before I moved here, I, uh… I had a boyfriend. But, um…" You trailed off, your gaze dropping to your lap.

Joel straightened a bit, his brows furrowing. "But what?" he prompted gently, his voice softer now.

"He cheated on me," you said finally, the words tumbling out quickly, like you wanted to get them over with.

Joel let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. "Shit," he muttered, the word carrying a quiet anger that made your chest ache.

"Yeah," you said, shrugging lightly. "So, guess that makes me single."

Joel nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the lake, but his silence felt heavy, like he was holding something back.

The quiet stretched between you until he spoke again, his voice low and deliberate.

"Stupid," he said, almost to himself shaking his head slightly.

You blinked, turning to look at him. "What?"

He met your eyes then, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense, like he was searching for something in your face.

"He’s stupid," Joel said, his voice firm, rough around the edges. "For lettin’ you go." He paused, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if the words had cost him something.

"For hurtin’ you like that."

The weight of his words settling heavily in the space between you.

The implication of it all—the care, the quiet anger, the way his voice seemed to carry something he wasn’t ready to say aloud—made your chest tighten and your head spin.

You blinked, caught in the haze of the moment, your breath hitching as his gaze bore into you.

There was something raw in the way he looked at you, something unspoken but unmistakable, and it made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

His eyes dropped, lingering on your lips for a moment too long, and your heart stuttered in your chest. That’s when you realized how close you’d both leaned in, the space between you barely a breath now.

The world seemed to slow, the rustling of the trees and distant hum of the lake fading into the background as his gaze flicked back to yours, dark and searching.

Was he about to kiss you?

The thought sent a rush of warmth through you, your breath catching in your throat as you stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the smallest movement might break the spell.

But before anything could happen the bright sweep of car headlights cut through the twilight, lighting up the campsite like a sudden flare.

Joel blinked, his jaw tightening as he tore his gaze from yours and pulled back, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching truck.

"Hey, kids!" Uncle Ray called as he climbed out of the truck, his cheerful tone breaking the spell entirely.

Joel leaned back slightly, the moment slipping through your fingers, but his eyes flicked back to you for just a second longer, holding something you couldn’t quite name before he turned away completely.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The fire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows across the campsite as you sat quietly, listening to Joel and Ray talk.

Their conversation drifted between sports, old stories, and small-town gossip, but your mind wandered, the distant rustle of the lake’s waves blending into the comforting hum of their voices.

You rested your chin on your palm, idly toying with the s'mores—the one indulgence you'd packed yourself for this trip.

The flames danced before you, casting flickering shadows across the campsite, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but wish Sarah were here with you.

As much as you appreciated the stillness of the evening, the crackling fire, and the quiet, her energy—her easy, unfiltered laughter—would’ve been a welcome distraction. Anything to drown out the thoughts swirling endlessly in your head, thoughts you couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You took a small bite, the sticky marshmallow clinging to your fingers as you gazed into the flames, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand, trying to be subtle about it.

But Joel noticed—of course, he noticed. His eyes flicked to you, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, soft and almost imperceptible.

She’s so damn cute, he thought, his chest tightening as he watched you across the fire.

You sat there with your knees tucked up, eyes heavy with sleep as you nibbled absentmindedly on your s'more, the firelight casting a warm glow on your face.

He let the moment linger, committing the image to memory—your sleepy gaze, the way the marshmallow stuck to the corner of your lip before you brushed it away.

Joel wasn’t one for sentimentality, but something about this, about you like this, hit him square in the chest.

And now, as much as Joel loved Ray, he couldn’t help the thought creeping into his head - Will he ever stop talking?

Joel’s attention kept slipping, his focus torn between Ray’s stories and the way your face looked in the flickering glow of the firelight.

The soft shadows danced across your features, and he found himself studying the curve of your cheek, the way your lashes rested lightly against your skin when you blinked.

You looked peaceful, and yet, there was always something behind your eyes—something quiet, something he wanted to understand.

He wanted to sit closer to you, feel the warmth of your presence just a little more intimately. He wanted to hold you like he had that other night, your body pressed against his, as if in that moment he could protect you from the things you didn’t say aloud.

He wanted to ask you about your life—about the things that made you smile, the things that weighed you down.

Joel swallowed hard, dragging his eyes back to the fire, trying to steady himself. But no matter how much he tried to focus on Ray’s words, his thoughts kept circling back to you.

It was frustrating, almost infuriating, how effortlessly you seemed to have carved out a space in his mind, a place he wasn’t sure he was ready to give, yet couldn’t seem to stop offering.

As if on cue, Ray let out a quiet groan, patting his stomach. "Whew, ate too much," he muttered under his breath before pushing himself to his feet. "I’m gonna call it a night. Thanks for settin’ up the tents, you two."

He turned to you, smiling warmly. "Bright and early tomorrow, kid. Got a full day planned."

You gave him a thumbs-up, your lips curving into a small smile. "Good night, Ray."

"Alright, good night, kid. Night, Joel," Ray called out as he made his way to his tent, the soft sound of the zipper pulling closed signaling his exit.

Now, it was just you and Joel, the fire flickering between you in the quiet stillness of the night.

Joel stood then, the movement drawing your gaze. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might be heading to bed, leaving you alone by the fire. A quiet pang of disappointment tugged at your chest, one you didn’t quite understand.

But instead, he stepped around the flames, his boots crunching softly against the earth, and lowered himself onto the log beside you.

The quiet weight of his presence settled warmly at your side, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his arm against yours.

"Hi," he said softly, his voice low and quiet, like it was meant just for you.

"Hi," you replied, your voice just as soft, your lips curving into a small, shy smile.

"You gonna make me one of those?" he asked, nodding toward the s’more in your hand, his voice low and teasing. "

A laugh escaped you, light and soft as you tore your eyes away from him, reaching for the ingredients. "Only if you say please," you quipped, trying to keep your voice steady despite the warmth rising in your chest.

Joel huffed out a chuckle, leaning back slightly and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Please," he drawled, the word slow and deliberate, laced with just enough sarcasm to make you roll your eyes.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, assembling the s’more with shaky hands as you felt his gaze on you. It was infuriating how much you could feel his presence, how aware you were of every slight shift of his weight, every flicker of firelight dancing across his features.

When you finally handed it to him, his fingers brushed against yours, rough and warm, lingering for just a second too long.

He didn’t say anything at first, just took a bite, his eyes closing briefly as a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.

"Good?" you asked, unable to hide the small grin creeping onto your face.

Joel opened his eyes, glancing at you with that familiar smirk. "Damn good," he said, his voice soft but still laced with that teasing edge.

But then his gaze shifted, his smirk fading into something quieter, more intense.

He looked at you now the way he had while you both sat by the lake—the same look that had made your breath catch, the same look that had made you think, for one charged moment, that he might kiss you.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand coming up to cup your face so casually it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest as his thumb brushed across your bottom lip, wiping away something you hadn’t even realized was there.

"You got some," he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges.

Your mind spun, your words failing you. "Oh," you said, dumbly, your breath hitching as his thumb lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

"Some chocolate," he clarified, his lips twitching in amusement at your reaction. His hand dropped, but not before he licked his thumb, tasting the chocolate he’d just wiped from your lip.

It was intimate—so much more than it should’ve been. The warmth of his touch lingered, the rough pad of his thumb still ghosting against your skin, and it had your cheeks blazing, heat spreading through you like wildfire.

You couldn’t look away, your gaze locked on his as your mind raced, struggling to process the charged moment that had just unfolded between you.

"There," he said, his tone soft but edged with a faint smugness. "All clean."

"Thanks," you said again, your voice barely above a murmur, feeling completely thrown off balance.

You stumbled over your words as you stood, nervously brushing off your hands. "I should—I should get to bed. Like Uncle Ray said—uh, big day tomorrow."

Joel tilted his head, the faintest glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked up at you. That same quiet confidence was back, the one that made your stomach flutter in ways you wished it wouldn’t.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and warm, the words rolling off his tongue like a secret just for you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You lay in your tent, staring up at the dark fabric above you, every creak of the trees and gust of wind outside making your heart race.

Why did no one ever tell you how scary camping was? you thought, pulling the sleeping bag tighter around you.

Your mind reeled, replaying every horror movie you’d ever seen—axe murderers, wild animals, supernatural monsters. It was all crowding your thoughts, the darkness outside feeling heavier with every passing second.

“Shit,” you muttered, sitting up abruptly, your pulse hammering in your chest. At this rate, you weren’t going to get a wink of sleep.

Then you heard it. A twig snapping just outside your tent. Your breath hitched as you froze, every muscle tensing.

That’s it. You couldn’t do this anymore.

Without another thought, you bolted out of your tent, your bare feet crunching softly against the forest floor as you made a beeline for Joel’s tent, flashlight in hand.

The rational part of your brain told you to turn around, that this was ridiculous, but the panic gripping your chest had you unzipping his tent before you could second-guess yourself.

Inside, Joel lay on his side, his broad shoulders rising and falling steadily with each breath, his face softened in sleep. The sight should’ve calmed you, but your panic was still bubbling just under the surface.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hesitating for a moment.

You didn’t want to wake him—this is ridiculous, you thought—but the howl of the wind outside made your nerves spike again.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn’t stir. His breathing stayed even, his face relaxed.

"Joel," you tried again, this time a little louder, leaning down and giving his leg a small shake. His brow furrowed slightly, but his eyes stayed shut.

"Joel," you hissed, shaking his leg a little harder now.

He groaned softly, shifting onto his back as his eyes cracked open, squinting at you in the dim light.

His voice was rough with sleep, low and gravelly as he mumbled, "What…? What’s goin’ on, honey?"

"I—" You hesitated, suddenly feeling absurdly childish standing there in your pajamas, barefoot and anxious.

What were you, five years old?

Joel sat up slowly, running a hand over his face to wake himself up. His brows furrowed, concern softening his features as his eyes locked on yours. "What’s wrong, darlin’?" he asked, his voice gentler now. "You alright?"

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I—I’m scared," you admitted finally, your voice small. "I can’t sleep. The wind, the noises outside, it’s just…" You trailed off, feeling the words catch in your throat.

Joel’s expression softened further, his eyes scanning your face. He didn’t laugh or tease; he didn’t make you feel silly for being afraid. Instead, he shifted to make space beside him, his hand patting the empty spot.

"Come here," he said softly.

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Come here," he repeated, his tone so gentle it made your chest ache. "Ain’t no reason for you to stay awake all night alone and scared like this. Get in here."

"I—" You hesitated, glancing at the small space and then back at him.

His eyes held yours, unwavering and soft, like he could see straight through your hesitation.

"It’s alright. C’mere," he murmured, shifting slightly as he stretched out his arm, creating a perfect space for you to slip into.

The gesture was so natural, so effortless, that it nearly took your breath away. His arm, strong and steady, formed a kind of haven, one that felt both safe and oddly intimate.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you stared at the spot he’d made for you.

"C’mon, darlin’," he coaxed gently, his voice dipping just enough to feel like a quiet promise. "Ain’t no need to be scared. I got you."

The sincerity in his tone broke through your hesitation.

Slowly, tentatively, you moved toward him, settling into the space he’d made for you. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close in a way that was firm yet incredibly gentle, like he’d done it a thousand times before.

This should’ve felt strange—you were pressed up against your neighbor, for god’s sake. But it didn’t. Somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. You tried to justify it to yourself—he was just helping you out, that’s all. But like this? In a way that felt so intimate, so unspoken?

"There," he said softly, his voice a warm murmur against the quiet of the night. "Ain’t nothin’ gonna bother you now. I’ll make sure of it."

You felt the tension in your body begin to melt as you rested your head against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing grounding you in a way that nothing else had all night.

The sound of the wind and the creaks outside faded into the background, replaced by the soft, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat.

"I know it’s silly. I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it.

Joel’s arm tightened ever so slightly around you, his hand brushing a soft, reassuring circle against your shoulder.

"Don’t apologize," he murmured, his voice low and steady, like the words were meant to wrap around you as much as his touch did.

His eyes closed, his breath evening out as he rested his head back against the pillow. "Just sleep, darlin’," he added softly, the warmth in his tone settling something deep inside you.

The way he said it, so sure, so unbothered, made your chest ache in the sweetest way. You nodded against him, your cheek brushing lightly against his chest, and let his steady heartbeat guide you toward rest.

Joel was right here, holding you like it was the most natural thing in the world—and for the first time in what felt like forever, it was enough.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Joel woke to the soft weight of you curled against him, your arm draped across his torso, your face tucked against his chest. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you—peaceful, unguarded, your lips parted in a soft pout, your quiet snores barely audible above the faint rustle of the wind outside.

His stomach twisted, a mix of warmth and something far more dangerous. What the hell was he doing? Twice now he’d woken up with you wrapped around him, and both times it had unraveled something in him he’d been trying so hard to keep tightly wound.

Joel’s eyes drifted over your face, the soft curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell in loose strands against your skin. You looked so damn comfortable, like you belonged there, and that thought alone was enough to stir something deep in his chest—a quiet ache that he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.

He sighed quietly, his hand resting loosely on your back as he stared up at the ceiling. This is the second time, he thought, his jaw tightening. Second time I’ve woken up like this.

He knew better. He should know better. This—whatever this was—it couldn’t happen. He was old enough, wise enough to keep his distance, to stop himself before it got to this point.

But here you were, soft and warm against him, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

His fingers twitched against your back, the warmth of your body seeping into him like you were something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You felt too good, too easy, too right.

Joel let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling gently under your weight. He should move—wake you, untangle himself—but he didn’t. Instead, he let his hand linger, the quiet intimacy of the moment too tempting to let go of just yet.

As the first light of dawn crept through the tent, Joel knew he was stuck—stuck in this limbo with you, caught somewhere between what he wanted and what he knew he shouldn’t have.

But for now, just for a moment, he let himself stay, because being wrapped up in you felt like the one thing he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You trailed behind Ray and Joel as the three of you hiked up the winding trail, the morning sun filtering through the canopy of trees above.

The air was cool, but the steady incline was enough to leave you breathless, your legs burning with every step. You were grateful Joel had gotten out of the tent first that morning, leaving before Ray could see the two of you together like that. You weren’t sure how you’d explain that—not that anything had happened, but still.

Joel walked ahead of you, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt, the material damp with sweat that clung to his back. The sheen on his arms caught the light as he carried the pack effortlessly, his movements steady and unbothered, like the hike was a stroll through the park. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked—how natural he seemed out here, in his element.

"You alright back there, Miss Chicago?" Joel called over his shoulder, his voice carrying easily over the rustle of leaves and crunch of boots against dirt.

You gave him a look, narrowing your eyes as you panted. "Fuck you," you huffed under your breath, though it lacked bite.

You were a lot of things at the moment—sweaty, tired, slightly annoyed—but you weren’t going to let Joel know how winded you actually were.

Joel’s grin was quick and teasing, his eyes glinting as he slowed his pace just slightly.

"I’m fine," you huffed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Don’t worry about me, Miller. I’m hot on your heels."

Joel turned fully this time, his gaze dropping to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought he might actually say something encouraging.

Instead, his lips curved into a smirk as he glanced back to make sure Ray was still ahead of him. Then, his eyes flicked back to you, and he leaned in slightly, mouthing, "Definitely hot."

He finished it with a quick wink, the teasing glint in his eyes making your stomach flip.

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away quickly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered under your breath, though you knew he’d caught the blush spreading across your face.

Joel chuckled softly, turning back to the trail as if nothing had happened, but the faint curve of his smile stayed firmly in place.

You followed behind him, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the steep incline.

Your mind lingered on his words, definitely hot, playing them over like a loop you couldn’t quite shut off. Should you read into it? Probably not. But then again, waking up tangled together in his tent that morning wasn’t exactly nothing.

Something was there—you felt it every time he looked at you, every time his teasing remarks left you flustered.

Still, just because you were both single didn’t mean it was more than some harmless, shameless flirting. Right?

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as you finally arrived at your destination. Ray let out a satisfied sigh, shrugging off his pack as he took in the view. "Looks the same as the first time I got here," he said, his voice warm with nostalgia.

The lake stretched out before you, secluded and serene, surrounded by tall trees that swayed gently in the breeze. A tire swing hung from one of the branches, swaying lazily over the water’s edge. The sunlight danced across the surface, making it glimmer like something out of a postcard.

"Wow," you breathed, taking it all in.

"Worth the hike?" Joel’s voice came from beside you, low and teasing.

You turned to him, meeting his gaze, and smiled softly. "Definitely."

Ray didn’t waste a second. "I’m goin’ in!" he declared, pulling off his shirt with a laugh before running straight for the water. He launched himself in with an impressive cannonball, the splash sending ripples across the lake.

You laughed, shaking your head as he resurfaced, grinning ear to ear.

Joel leaned against a tree, his arms crossed casually as he watched you. "How about you?" he asked, his voice lighter now, but his eyes holding a flicker of something else.

Your mind flashed to his earlier comment, the one that had left your cheeks burning and your heart racing. Definitely hot. Maybe it was time to get back at him, just a little.

"Yeah," you said, feigning nonchalance. "Me too."

Before Joel could respond, you reached for the hem of your shirt and tugged it over your head, revealing the bikini you’d been wearing underneath.

Joel froze, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but no words came out. His eyes flicked down, then quickly back up to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw his breath hitch.

You furrowed your brows innocently, tilting your head at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "What?" you asked, your voice light and teasing as you reached for the waistband of your shorts. With deliberate slowness, you shimmied them down, the movement undeniably purposeful, knowing full well he’d notice.

Joel’s gaze flicked toward you before he quickly averted it, his jaw tightening as you folded the shorts neatly and placed them on a nearby rock, your every move radiating nonchalance. The corners of your lips tugged into a small, mischievous smile as you caught the faintest hint of color rising to his cheeks.

Joel blinked, clearly trying to recalibrate. "Nothin’," he muttered, his voice rougher than usual as he dragged a hand over his jaw.

You smirked, pleased with the small victory, before turning and walking toward the water’s edge. You didn’t miss the way his gaze followed you, though he tried to play it cool by pretending to adjust his pack.

As you stepped into the water, the coolness refreshing against your skin, you turned back toward Joel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

"You comin’ in?" you called, grinning at him.

Joel tilted his head, his lips curving into a slow smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Yeah," he said finally, his voice steady. "I reckon I am."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You followed Joel up to the tire swing, the soft crunch of dirt under your feet mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. He stood by the swing, holding the rope steady, his grin easy and teasing. "C’mon," he urged, motioning for you to step closer. "Ain’t as scary as it looks."

Joel went first, gripping the old tire swing like it was second nature. He turned to glance at you, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Watch and learn, sweetheart,” he said with a wink, and before you could even roll your eyes, he pushed off.

He swung out effortlessly, his strong arms flexing as he held on, and for a moment, it looked like he was flying, the sunlight catching on the water droplets clinging to his skin. Then, with a whoop that was both boyish and entirely too charming, Joel let go, plunging into the lake with a splash that sent ripples all the way to the shore.

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as he resurfaced a moment later, shaking water from his hair like a wet dog. He treaded water with an ease that made it seem like he belonged here, his grin wide and infectious as he tilted his head back to look at you.

“Alright, darlin’, your turn,” he called, his voice teasing but warm.

You stood by the swing, hands hovering over the rope as you hesitated. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at him.

Joel leaned back slightly, his arms moving lazily through the water to keep himself afloat, his movements effortless, almost hypnotic. His grin softened, melting into something gentler, more coaxing as his eyes locked on yours.

"C’mon," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, steadier, carrying a reassurance that made your chest tighten. "I won’t let ya get hurt, I promise."

You bit your lip, eyeing the swing skeptically. “I feel like I’m gonna look ridiculous,” you admitted, your cheeks heating.

Joel let out a soft laugh, his head tilting to the side as he watched you. “Darlin’, you couldn’t look ridiculous if you tried,” he said, his tone so genuine that it made your stomach flip. “Just grab on and let go. I’ll be right here.”

You glanced between him and the swing, nerves buzzing in your chest. “You better not laugh at me,” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Cross my heart,” Joel said, grinning as he made the motion across his chest. "I’m right here," he added, his voice low and steady.

That got you.

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping you as you grabbed the rope. With one deep breath, you pushed off, the swing carrying you out over the water as your stomach flipped wildly. For a moment, it was like flying, the wind rushing past you, and then you let go, landing in the lake with a splash.

When you resurfaced, gasping and laughing, Joel was already there, the water rippling softly around him as he swam closer. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and warm, his smile utterly intoxicating.

“Yeah, that was fun,” you said between breaths, your laughter still bubbling up despite the water dripping down your face.

His grin widened, a flicker of pride lighting up his eyes. “See? I told you,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “You gotta trust me.”

You smiled back, the heat in your chest having nothing to do with the exercise. “I guess I do.”

“Mhm,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his eyes holding yours for just a second too long, the space between you charged and undeniable.

You drifted lazily in the lake, the water cool against your skin, but all you could feel was Joel. He was close, his presence magnetic, his movements slow and effortless as he treaded near you. The sunlight played off his damp skin, the lines of his face softer but no less handsome in the golden glow.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hands brush against your waist, his grip steady and grounding as he pulled you closer. Instinctively, your hands found his shoulders, your fingers curling against the firm muscles beneath his warm skin.

The water rippled around you, but all you could focus on was the way his eyes locked on yours, intense and unguarded, like he was seeing something no one else ever had.

“Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft, uncertain, though it wavered under the weight of the moment. “We should go back…” you muttered looking over your shoulder for any signs of Ray.

“Shh,” he interrupted gently, his voice low and soothing, a quiet command that wrapped around you like the current itself. The sound of it made you fall silent, your breath catching as his hands steadied you in the water.

One rested firmly on your waist, grounding you, while the other splayed across your lower back, keeping you close, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken.

“Just let me look at you,” he murmured, his words soft but heavy, like they carried more weight than he was willing to admit. His gaze roamed your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes again, the intensity in them sending a flush of heat cascading through you.

You blushed deeply, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath under his gaze. The world around you seemed to fade, the water, the trees, the sky—all of it narrowing to just Joel.

He leaned in slowly, his eyes dipping to your lips, and your heart raced as you let your eyes flutter shut, anticipation coiling tight in your chest. His breath was warm against your skin, his grip firm yet gentle, and you swore you could feel the moment stretching endlessly between you.

"Are y’all still by the swing?" Ray’s cheerful voice called out, loud and oblivious, shattering the fragile spell between you.

Your eyes snapped open, and before you could think, you instinctively pulled back, the sudden movement sending a small splash of water between you.

Joel let out a low groan, his hand dragging through his wet hair in frustration as he turned slightly, shouting back, “Yeah! We’ll head your way!” His tone was steady, but the edge of irritation was impossible to miss.

You were already making your way toward the shore, your movements quick and deliberate, your back turned to him. The air felt heavier now, your heartbeat racing as you tried to steady yourself, to push away the lingering heat from the moment that had almost been.

“Alright!” Ray’s voice called again, carrying easily over the water.

Joel stayed where he was for a moment, watching you climb out, droplets of water trailing down your skin in the glow of the fading sunlight.

Shit, he thought, running a hand down his face, his chest tight with the ache of longing.

Every second he spent with you seemed to unravel him a little more, his desire for you growing into something he wasn’t sure he could contain.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As you trudged down the trail toward the campsite, your eyes kept drifting to Joel’s broad back, his steady strides cutting effortlessly through the uneven terrain. Sure, you’d been drawn to him from the start, his rugged charm and shameless flirting throwing you off balance in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

But what had just happened at the lake—it felt different, like something had shifted. The memory of his touch, his gaze, lingered, warm and unsettling all at once.

A knot twisted in your stomach as the thought struck you: were you catching feelings for Joel?

The idea made your chest tighten, a mix of worry and something dangerously close to hope creeping in as you tried to shake it off.

As you continued down the path, your foot caught on something—maybe a root, maybe a loose rock—and suddenly you were falling. A sharp pain shot through your ankle as you hit the ground, your hands instinctively gripping at it. "Ah, shit!" you exclaimed, your voice tight with pain.

Within moments, Ray and Joel were at your side, their footsteps hurried and voices tinged with concern. "What happened?" Ray asked, his eyes scanning you anxiously.

You pushed yourself up slightly, your palms pressing into the dirt as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. The pain radiated like a hot wave from your ankle. "I think I—shit—I tripped over something," you muttered, your voice breaking slightly as the pain settled in.

Joel knelt beside you, his brows furrowed in focus. His gaze flicked to your face, softening when he saw the tears threatening to spill over. "I’m gonna press here, sweetheart," he said gently, his voice low and soothing. "You let me know if it hurts, alright?"

You nodded, biting your lip as he carefully pressed his fingers against the tender spot. A sharp hiss escaped you as the pain flared, and Joel pulled his hand back immediately, his jaw tightening.

"I don’t think she can walk down the rest," he said firmly, looking at Ray. "I’ll carry her."

"What?" you blurted, shaking your head despite the pain. "It’s not much further, Joel. I can—"

He cut you off with a soft but commanding tone. "It’s not much further, darlin’, but you’re not walkin’ on that until we get some ice on it. No arguments."

Ray hesitated. "You sure, Joel?"

Joel gave a small smirk, his confidence unwavering. "Piece of cake," he said, already reaching for your hand to help you up. He steadied you as you rose, your good leg bearing all your weight. His hand on your arm was firm, his touch grounding.

"Joel," you started, hesitating as embarrassment washed over you. "I might be too heavy—"

"Not a chance," he interrupted, his voice soft but resolute. "Now get on my back."

With a reluctant nod, you looped your arms around his shoulders as he crouched slightly. Joel’s hands found their place under your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing at all.

The trail back was mercifully smooth.

Joel carried you with a strength that felt almost unreal, his movements so steady and sure you barely felt the jostle of each step. The warmth of his back seeped through his shirt, an unspoken comfort that anchored you to the moment. Hesitant at first, you let your head come to rest against his shoulder, the fabric brushing against your cheek.

He walked as though your weight was nothing, his voice low and steady as he spoke to Ray. There wasn’t a single hitch in his breath, no sign of exertion, just the quiet cadence of his words blending with the crickets chirping softly in the underbrush.

"You doin’ okay back there?" Joel's voice rumbled, breaking the gentle silence. He tilted his head just enough to catch your gaze out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," you murmured, though your cheeks flared with a heat you couldn’t quite shake—a blend of gratitude and something softer, more vulnerable. "Thanks, Joel."

He answered with a low hum, the sound laced with a teasing edge. "Told ya—piece of cake. Almost forgot you were there."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

By the time you reached the campsite, Joel set you down carefully, his hands lingering just long enough to make sure you were steady on your good leg.

He gave you a small, crooked smile, his eyes holding yours for a moment before his voice cut through the haze of your thoughts. "You alright?" he asked softly, his hand steadying you as he helped you hop over to one of the foldable chairs by the fire.

His grip was firm but careful, ensuring you didn’t put weight on your injured ankle. Once you were settled, he crouched down slightly, still eyeing you with that quiet intensity.

"Yeah," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not as bad right now."

"Good," he said, straightening up, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with something softer. "I’ll be back with some ice and Tylenol, alright?"

You nodded, watching him as he turned and strode toward the supplies. Your heart was still racing, and not just from the pain. Joel had just carried you down that hike—effortlessly, like it was nothing.

The memory of his arms around you, solid and sure, sent heat rushing to your cheeks. He was strong—so much stronger than you’d expected, and the thought left you flustered.

You bit your lip, your gaze lingering on him longer than you meant to.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

That night, you sat quietly by the fire, the soft crackle of the flames filling the cool night air. The logs had burned low, their glow dimming to faint embers that flickered and cast dancing shadows against the surrounding trees.

Your ankle, now taped up, felt manageable—the ice and Tylenol doing just enough to take the edge off the pain so you could move on your own if needed.

Ray stretched out with a dramatic yawn, breaking the comfortable silence. "Welp," he muttered, patting his stomach in satisfaction, his tone thick with exhaustion. "Gonna call it a night. Early morning and all that." His movements were slow and unhurried as he ambled toward his tent, tossing a casual "Goodnight, kids," over his shoulder before ducking inside, the zip of the tent flap marking his retreat.

Silence settled over the campsite, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the fading pop of embers. Neither you nor Joel spoke at first. The weight of the moment pressed between you, thick and unspoken, as the firelight flickered across his face.

When Joel finally stood, the motion was slow and deliberate. He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you—steady, searching—made your chest tighten. He tilted his head ever so slightly, a subtle gesture toward his tent, his expression unreadable but his intent unmistakable.

Your heart fluttered, skipping a beat as you hesitated for only a moment before rising to follow him. The distance between the fire and his tent felt both impossibly short and agonizingly long, the quiet stretch of night amplifying every step you took.

Inside, it felt impossibly small, the air thick with the quiet intimacy that seemed to hang between you. Joel had already settled on his side, his arm resting under his head as he watched you crawl in, his gaze soft and inviting.

You lay beside him, the warmth of his body pulling you in like gravity. It felt so natural, so easy, as you nestled closer, your hand resting lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips.

You didn’t even stop to question how strange this was—sharing a tent, practically cuddling with your neighbor, a man you’d met barely a week ago. But it wasn’t weird, right? This was because you were too scared to sleep in your own tent, wasn’t it?

He was just helping you out, being kind in his own quiet, steady way. That was all. Even if his arm was draped around you, pulling you close against his side, and his fingers were threading softly through your hair, lulling you into a calm you hadn’t felt in ages. Right?

“You’re warm,” you murmured, your voice soft and muffled slightly against his skin, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Yeah?” Joel replied, his voice low and quiet, the sound of it wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut as his arm slid around you tighter, pulling you even closer.

Joel chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, warm and soothing. “This better than last night, huh? No scary noises to worry about,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

His fingers trailed absentmindedly up and down your arm, the motion gentle and rhythmic, sending a comforting warmth through you.

You smiled against him, the memory of your panic almost laughable now. “No scary noises,” you agreed softly. “No axe murderer waiting for me.”

Joel laughed then, a warm, genuine sound that made your heart flip. He glanced down at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as your eyes met.

You grinned, your eyes glimmering with a soft, doe-like sheen, their glossy warmth catching the faint light and making you look impossibly endearing.

For a moment, everything felt weightless, suspended in the quiet intimacy of the tent. His gaze lingered on your face, tracing over your features as if committing them to memory, before dipping to your lips.

The air seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension. His teasing smile softened, his expression shifting into something deeper, more serious. His lips parted, and he muttered under his breath, so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.

“Fuck.”

Your smile faded, replaced with a small furrow in your brow. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice tinged with worry. A small part of you panicked.

What if he regretted this? What if you’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross?

“I—” Joel began, his voice catching as his gaze darted away for a brief, fleeting moment. He looked almost nervous, his lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a quiet sigh. “You do somethin’ to me. I—damn it, I don’t even know how to say it.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as you stared up at him, searching his face for answers. His expression was a storm of emotion, raw and unguarded, and for the first time, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"In a good way?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, your chest tightening at the way his eyes held yours. They were so steady, so sure, yet there was a fire in them that made your pulse race. His gaze flicked to your lips for a beat too long, like he was fighting a battle within himself.

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice soft but resolute. "A good way."

"Joel," you murmured, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, unbidden, as though it was the only word you could find.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as his thoughts raced. This might ruin everything, he told himself, but damn it, he needed you.

The way you looked at him, those soft, glossy eyes wide with uncertainty and longing, made it impossible to think straight. His gaze dropped to your lips again, this time lingering with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t just desire—it was something deeper, something raw and consuming.

He wanted you in a way that terrified him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked finally, his voice low and tender, almost hesitant, as though he was offering you every chance to stop this, to pull away. The vulnerability in his tone made your chest ache, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

"Kiss me," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips in a desperate rush, raw and unfiltered. You didn’t think—you couldn’t think. All you could feel was the tension crackling between you, the way his eyes burned into yours as though he was already memorizing every inch of you.

His lips were on yours in an instant, feverish and hungry, his hands cupping your face as if you were something precious yet utterly irresistible. His movements were urgent, almost frantic, yet there was a tenderness woven into the desperation, as though he was pouring every unspoken word, every pent-up feeling, into the kiss.

His calloused fingers brushed against your skin, the roughness a stark contrast to the softness of his lips. The texture grounded you, tethering you to the intensity of the moment.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands trembled slightly against your jaw as he pulled you closer. His kiss was unrestrained, unrelenting, his lips parting to taste you more fully. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a barely controlled hunger evident in the gesture, and a quiet, throaty sound escaped him—a mixture of longing and satisfaction.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a confession, and a plea all at once.

When he finally pulled back, his breaths came shallow and uneven, . "I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I should admit," he murmured, his voice husky and raw. His thumb brushed softly over your cheek, but his eyes flickered, betraying the intensity still burning within him. His gaze darted to your lips, swollen from the force of his kiss, then back to your eyes, searching for some unspoken permission.

And then he leaned in again, his lips finding your neck this time, moving with an almost reckless need. His kisses were sloppy, open-mouthed, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his teeth and tongue grazed your skin.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, holding him close as his lips lingered just below your jaw. He sucked lightly, enough to make your breath hitch, then harder, marking you in a way that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine. You knew you’d see the evidence of his hunger in the morning, and the thought made your heart race.

"Joel," you breathed, your voice trembling with need but steady in its conviction. His lips stilled against your skin, his head tilting to meet your gaze. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, stealing the air from your lungs as if he could see straight through to the ache building inside you.

"I want you," you admitted, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.

It was almost embarrassing how easily this man unraveled you—how just one kiss, one touch, had set you alight. Your cheeks burned at the realization, but the need to feel him, to close the aching gap between you, overpowered any hesitation. Your voice was soft but unwavering, laced with the weight of everything unspoken yet so desperately felt.

You felt his breath hitch against your neck, a quiet exhale that sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightened slightly, grounding you while tethering himself.

But he stopped you with a gentle shake of his head, his lips curving into a small, almost pained smile. A soft chuckle rumbled low in his chest, but it wasn’t mocking—it was tender, full of something unspoken yet profound.

"Shit, darlin'," he murmured, his voice low and warm, his hand still cradling your face as though you were something fragile. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the soothing touch making your chest tighten. "I want you too—more than you probably realize. But this…" He paused, his voice quieter now, steadier. "This ain’t how I wanna do it."

It took everything in him to stop. The way you whimpered his name, the way your eyes burned with unrestrained desire, had him teetering on the edge of his own resolve. Your soft, gasping breaths and the way your fingers clung to him ignited something primal, something he struggled to hold back. The tension in his body betrayed his words, the strain of his cock against his pants a glaring contradiction to the restraint he was forcing himself to maintain.

His eyes softened as his lips quirked into a small, apologetic smile. His hand moved gently, brushing a stray strand of hair back from your face. "You deserve better than… a tent on the floor," he said with a wry grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "When it happens—"

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the quiet certainty that hung in the air. "When?" you whispered, barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel nodded, his thumb grazing your bottom lip in a way that sent shivers through you. His eyes held yours, steady and full of something that made your pulse race. "When," he repeated, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Gonna do this right. You deserve that."

"Okay," you whispered back, your voice soft, your chest aching with the intensity of the moment.

Joel leaned in slowly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the touch warm and lingering, filled with a tenderness that made your eyes sting. "Now, go to bed," he murmured, his voice low and sweet, wrapping around you like a quiet command, like a promise.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

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m0llygunn · 1 year ago

Note

boyfriend!eddie and reader having sex in the back of his van whilst it’s raining 😫

Hi! Thank you for the request! I got a little carried away with the love-y, poetic-y stuff but theres still all that smutty stuff too!

18+ only, please!

wc: 3.2k

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It started slow then all at once. It was the kind of rain that warrants attention, the kind that demands you sit and watch.

So that’s what you and Eddie had done. It was the safer option as well, to pull off the highway instead of pressing all the way home through the storm. Instead, you pressed through until you got to the old field just on the cusp of Hawkins that you two used to visit when you had first gotten together.

It really was just a field. An old lot that you’re sure someone owns but hasn’t invested a lick of time into. Overgrown grass and a forested edge. Weeds and wildflowers weaved their way in and took claim to the land. The place is theirs but you and Eddie have been known to borrow it in the past. Not so much in the present.

Just you, Eddie, and the wildflowers.

It was where you first really hung out. In his van, doors propped open, letting the breeze in— it was where you got to know each other. It was home to the first time you held hands and the first time you shared a kiss. It was home to a lot of late nights where Hawkins seemed too overbearing and you both just needed to get away.

In a sweet way, it was kind of like a home to where your love for each other sprouted. You and Eddie used to say that there were just as many wildflowers out in the field as there were kisses you’ve shared here.

Beyond kisses, it was a place of innocence.

When you and Eddie grew to that stage of your relationship, you spent more and more time in his room, growing more and more familiar with each other. Eventually, you stopped coming to the field. As time passed, the tire tracks in the grass faded and once again, the field was a place that only the wildflowers reigned.

Today though— today, you pay the field a visit.

Heavy rain on petals, dripping from their leaves like tear drops, you’re greeted by the weeping wildflowers, more abundantly spread on the land than you remembered.

In the way the flowers appear to cry, it elicits a similar feeling inside you, like the swell of happy tears, born from being reunited with a lost friend.

Eddie puts the van in park, reaching his hand back across the center console to squeeze your thigh. “We’ve got a lot of kisses to catch up on,” he says, meeting your gaze and nodding his head towards the plethora of brightly coloured speckles amongst the vast green.

“Better get started then,” you laugh.

Like time had never passed, you and Eddie follow the same routine you used to. With a polite wave of his arm for you to go first and a gentle murmur of ‘ladies first’, you maneuver yourself to the back of the van with Eddie following suit.

You both kick off your shoes and you take your seat, the place that Eddie has always set for you. He swings the back doors open, letting the mist of the rain and the dimmed rays from the clouded sky in.

“Really raining, huh?” Eddie says as he settles next to you.

“Yeah, we needed it though. I would say the flowers needed it, but it looks like they’re doing just fine on their own,” you say fondly, scooting yourself to get a better view of the outside and coincidentally closer to Eddie. He does the same, shifting so he’s closer to you.

He brings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you flush to his side.

“So, those kisses…” he says, grinning at you.

“Smooth, very smooth,” you smile, tilting your chin upwards to him as an invitation.

Eager as always, he wastes no time closing the distance between you two.

Lips to lips, nose pressed against nose, he brings a hand to your jawline and he leans forward into you. Eager, very eager.

“Something tells me you want a little more than just kisses,” you laugh when he parts his lips from yours, trailing his pecks across your cheek and dipping them down to your neck. You practically feel his smirk against your skin.

“You know me so well,” he laughs softly, breath fanning over your skin.

You run your hands down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. He pulls away enough to help you remove it, flashing you a grin in the process. He’s not going to say it, but you both know he’s not the only one who wants a little more than just kisses.

His shirt thrown to the side, you run your fingers over his bare chest. The breeze coming in, and your gentle touch work in tandem to sprout goosebumps over his skin. He shivers, shaking his head gently, making you huff a soft laugh. He flashes you another smile, this time, hands grabbing to lift up your shirt.

“Let’s see how you like it,” he teases.

He pulls the cotton of your shirt up and over your head and before he has the chance to touch you, you already feel the crawl of goosebumps over your skin, as well as a light mist from the rain blowing in. Shivering immediately, Eddie laughs softly, but doesn’t hesitate to bring you close to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you warmed up,” he teases, making you laugh.

His arms snaking behind your back, a quick tug on the clasp on your bra has it coming undone. He guides you downwards, helping you lay back onto the carpeted and blanket covered floor.

Both arms caging you in, he hovers over you, letting you still feel his radiating warmth, but leaving just enough space between you two to free you from your bra. His mouth spreads into a smirk as soon as your hardened nipples come into his view, already perked and pebbled from the chill.

“S’cold,” you whisper.

“Poor baby,” he coos.

He dips his face down, placing kisses to your collar bones and slowly working his way down. His hands rub your sides in long languid motions, careful friction with the intention of warming you up. At the same time, he presses his body to yours, sharing all of his warmth.

His kisses get lower and lower until he’s sucking harshly on your chest, each press of his mouth like a spark of warmth in your bloodstream. He’s doing a good job of keeping his promise to warm you up.

His mouth connects to your nipple, the heat of his mouth like a sweet relief that encompasses your whole body, all the way down to your core.

Your hands weave into his hair as his tongue swirls and sucks. When he switches sides, taking your other nipple into his mouth, you hardly have the mind to feel the way the dampness of your skin nearly frosts in the air. No, instead, your hips cant upwards, seeking relief elsewhere now.

“Eddie,” you hum, tugging lightly at the roots of his hair.

He hums back with a raised inflection in his tone— asking you what you need without parting his mouth from you. You lift your hips again, the denim of your jeans meeting his lower belly with the way he’s positioned over you.

He removes his mouth from your chest with a wet ‘pop’ before looking up at you with a cute smile and contradictory dark eyes.

“Feeling warmer?” he asks through his grin.

“More,” you whisper pleadingly.

His smile deepens, eyes dancing in amusement as he passes his hands down your sides a final time, pushing himself up and giving himself the space he needs to remove both of your remaining clothes.

“You know,” he starts. His hands work at your pants, undoing them, while he spares you quick glances, a certain mischievousness lingering in each look your way. “They say if you ever meet somebody who might have hypothermia, you’re supposed to cuddle with them naked.”

“Funny,” you huff quietly, trying to stop the way your lips demand to tug up. You lift your hips for him as he shimmies your jeans down your body.

He meets your gaze once again with raised brows. “I’m serious, saw it on one of those survival shows,” he says as he throws your pants to the side.

You match his gaze, raising your brows to mirror his. “Eddie, you’ve already got me down to my underwear, don’t think I need any more convincing,” you reply with nothing but adoration for him in your voice. He laughs, and you beckon him forward, sitting up just enough to reach his pants, tugging the belt undone. Eddie helps you with the rest, freeing himself from both his denim and boxers.

“Hope nobody comes out here or they’re gonna see a whole lotta ass,” he says as he tosses his clothes next to yours.

You bring your hands to the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and Eddie quickly takes over, pulling them the rest of the way down your legs and adding them to the pile of clothes.

“Nobody comes out here,”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause it’s not your ass on the line, it’s mine,” he laughs as he situates himself, guiding your knees outwards to make space for himself. His hardened cock demands your attention as it bobs in front of you, but you catch his gaze.

“They’d be lucky to see your ass,” you smile sweetly at him, knowing it’s the truth— that if someone did come out here, he’s the one in the direct line of sight, not you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he smiles back, rolling his eyes. You huff a laugh through your nose, pulling him closer to you, making kissy lips at him. He indulges you, leaning forward and sweeping you up in a kiss that he’s quick to deepen.

With his body hovering over yours, he moves his forearm to rest on the floor under your shoulder to keep himself steady. His free hand snakes between the two of you, sliding along your lower belly until he reaches your mound. His fingers quickly breach your folds, gliding towards your already slicked hole. Groaning into the kiss, he gathers your wetness on his fingertips before moving back up to your clit.

Slow circles on your sensitive button, your breath hitches. At the same time, your hips buck— your body's way of demanding more.

The kiss becomes sloppy, wet, and full of your heavy pants. Eventually, you lose the capacity to move your lips against his as he continues his movements, speeding them up ever so slightly. Your chest rises and falls with your quickened breaths as he works you past just relief and well into the territory of explicit pleasure, heat blooming heavily in your lower belly.

“Need you t-t—“ you stutter, your own ragged breath interrupting your speech.

“Need me to what, baby?” Eddie asks, relishing in the way he has you worked up like this, nearly so far gone that you can hardly speak.

“Inside. You,” you moan, trying to gather your wits. “Please.”

“My girl wants to cum on my cock?” he says tauntingly, loving the sight of you like this. He speeds up his fingers and your hips stutter, the emptiness inside of you becoming too much to bear.

“Please,”

“I don’t know if you’re ready for it. Think you’re warmed up enough?” he taunts again, keeping his unrelenting pace on your clit.

“Mhm,” you hum in a strangled breath. “Please, Eddie.”

His movements on your clit stop and are replaced with the throb of need. Before your whined breath can carry up from your lungs, through your throat, and out your mouth, his cock is at your entrance pushing in, quickly bottoming out inside of you. He steals every ounce of your breath, pushing it from you in a heavy mewl, his own deep groan sounding in your ear as he leans in closer to you.

“Fuck, how’s that feel, baby?” he asks.

You suck in a breath, whining softly, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. He hums, encouraging you to answer his question.

“Feels good, Eddie.” you moan.

“Yeah?”

“Always feels good.”

Eddie presses another kiss to your cheek, followed by a quick peck to your lips before shifting. Taking both your knees in his hands, he tilts your hips upwards giving himself better leverage. As he does, he cock perfectly pushes against your g spot, knocking you breathless once again.

“Just like that, huh?” he rasps, watching you as you take steadying breaths, eyes already fluttering. You nod your head fervently, desperately needing him to move.

Meeting his gaze, he smiles softly, knowing exactly what you need.

Slowly but surely, he pulls his hips back from yours. Pushing back in, the head of his cock grazes that perfect spot again and you sigh contendently as your eyes flutter unrelentingly in your pleasure.

He finds a steady pace that has you moaning and mewling. Every stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the chilly breeze is a thing of the past. The way the rain patters against the van and the gentle sounds of the wind whispering through the air doesn’t breach your consciousness in the slightest. The only thing on your mind is Eddie— and when he brings his hand to your clit, continuing those pleasure filled little circles, your mind is reduced to nothing but a puddle of love for him and how he’s making you feel.

“F-fuck, feels so good,” he stutters, picking up his pace.

You feel the heat simmering in your belly and you know any second you're about to reach your peak. Grasping forward, you anchor yourself to Eddie with a desperate hand wrapping around his arm, clutching onto him with everything you have.

His breathing is ragged, grunts and groans decorating each thrust into you. Skin on skin, the sticky slapping and the wet obscenities with each pump give nature's sounds that echo through the field a run for their money.

He picks up his speed on your clit, abruptly pushing you right over the edge. Your body tenses, pulses, and stutters under him, washing you over in the euphoria of your high. Eddie’s not far behind as he chases you into the waters of pleasure.

With your hips jerking kinetically from his fingers on your clit, he relents his movements, pressing his hand to your hip, anchoring himself to you much as you had done to him. As his fingers press into your skin, his pace starts to become uneven.

With a low groan, he thrusts deeply into you, his hips meeting yours completely. The depth of his reach and sudden contact on your sensitive clit has you jolting, adding a second wave to your dwindling orgasm. Your muscles tense harshly, fluttering around him, making him nearly whine as he comes undone. Drawing from you once again, he continues slow, shallow thrusts, working himself through his release.

Your orgasm subsiding, you hum happily, still feeling the tingly remnants of pleasure in your body all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. Eddie collapses besides you, not going far at all, mere inches from being halfways on top of you.

Reaching your hand over his back, you're met with his wet skin, more damp than just sweat, and you retract your touch out of surprise.

“S’just rain,” he mumbles into your skin. You return your touch, gliding it down the expanse of his drenched skin. You use your hand to slick it off from him.

“Didn’t know you were getting rained on,” you say, shaking the water from your hand before settling it back down against his back, cuddling closer to him.

“It’s only water,” he replies, lifting his head to see you, a grin pulled across his rosy face.

You both lie like that for a while, sharing whispers and each other's company before separating enough to put yourselves back together. In the moment you hadn’t noticed just how much rain was blowing in through the open doors. Only after the fact did you realize the way the carpet was heavily dotted with wet drops and how both yours and Eddie’s legs were coated in a misted dew. Eddie got the brunt of the rain, his whole backside dripping wet.

You helped him dry off, giving him kisses for his sacrifice despite him telling you it was well worth it. Once you were both redressed, you wrapped the two of you in one of the fuzzy blankets you keep back here.

“Why’d we stop coming here?” Eddie asks, pulling you in tighter to his side.

Tilting your face up towards him, you raise your brows as you meet his gaze. “Because you started only bringing me to your bed,” you reply, hiding your smile by pursing your lips. He laughs, face lights up with amusement, a deep smirk spreading across his face because he knows you’re right.

“Well, this was fucking amazing, I think we should do this more often,” he jest, pinching at your side. You squirm but he rubs his hand over the affected area, soothing the pinch and the tickles away.

With a warning raise of your brows, despite your unwavering smile, he takes the hint, placing a quick kiss to your cheek like a sugar coated apology.

You agree with him, you should come back here more often, but you don’t indulge him in that information just yet. Instead you redirect your gaze over the kingdom of wildflowers in front of you.

The rain, slowing to a drizzle, your eyes reap over the field, taking in the small details you used to be so well acquainted with. It’s both nostalgic and bittersweet. It’s the same place you once knew, yet, at the same time, it’s entirely different.

It’s a tender wash of feelings. The field flourished without you. Similarly, you and Eddie flourished without the field. It was a funny thing to come back like this— like both you and Eddie, and the field greeted each other so dearly, with heavy rain drops that felt like tears, only to show off the ways in which you’ve both grown since you’ve been apart.

Growing is a part of life, as it is a part of love, both of which you’ve become familiar with ever since you met Eddie. Before, you thought love was supposed to be fiery crimson and vibrant magenta, heavily embellished with love hearts and fireworks. As time has gone on, you’ve grown to understand that love has shades. Love can be vivid and flashy and extravagant, but it can also be the simple things.

Right now, love is an overgrown field, hued blue from the overcast sky, with green grass sprinkled in pink, orange, yellow, and red confetti. Love is rosy cheeks and rain misted skin. Love is simple, natural. Love is you, Eddie, and the wildflowers.

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Thank you! hope you like it <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

Text

silent treatment II m.león x i.engen x reader

mostly a mapi x r silent treatment II m.león x i.engen x reader

your eyes fluttered open as sunlight streamed into the bedroom, a particularly bright ray hitting you right in the eyes as you whined tiredly and rolled over, burying your face in the nearest warm body.

"good morning!" the brunette cheered out with a chipper grin as she flung open the other set of curtains, the only morning person out of the three of you as you tucked your body tighter into mapi who exhaled tiredly.

"no." was all the tattoed defender grumbled, arms wrapping tightly around you as you tugged on the covers, pulling them up and over your heads, both of you sighing in relief at the sudden cocoon of darkness.

"hey!" you smiled into your girlfriends warm skin as her fingers wrapped tightly around the top of the blanket holding it firm as your other lover tried to tug it away from the two of you.

"too early." mapi mumbled again as you nodded your agreement, fingers tracing lines absentmindedly up and down her bare back as your hand slipped up her top.

"time to get up my loves!" you both collectively groaned as the cover flew away from you pryed out of mapi's vice like grip, ingrid squealing a little as she stumbled backwards and fell, the covers landing on top of her with a gentle thump.

pulling your head gingerly out of your lovers neck you blinked a few times to adjust to the sunlight before noticing the tangled mess of limbs and linen, covering your mouth to stifle your laughter.

"not funny!" ingrid scowled yanking the duvet off her head, mapi cracking one eye open as an amused smile tugged at her lips, her strong hands wrapping around your biceps and pulling you back down into her embrace.

"little bit funny." you sighed out happily as mapi's lips pressed against the crown of your head and the norwegian stood to her feet, glaring down at the two of you. "vamos! up." she clapped impatiently as neither of you moved.

"fine! i will pour the coffee down the sink and give your breakfast to the neighbors." the taller girl shrugged as your eyes widened and you tried to sit up only to be squeezed tighter. "no princesa, she is bluffing." mapi warned quietly, eyes still closed and face calm without a hint of worry.

"elskling." ingrid tapped her wrist and nodded to the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as you huffed. "oye! traitor." mapi opened her eyes with a slight pout and a glare as you wiggled from her grip, swinging out of bed.

"amor do you love coffee more than me?" the defender accused, crossing her arms and staring at you unimpressed as another pair of limbs wrapped around your midsection.

"in the morning...si mi vida." you grinned honestly, ingrid laughing victoriously and bending down slightly to pepper your face with kisses. "y mis besos?" the tattooed footballer laying alone in bed questioned, tapping her lips expectantly.

with a roll of your eyes at her dramatics you broke free from ingrids hold, bounding back to bed and jumping on top of the half blonde, kissing her lips shortly and sweetly over and over.

seemingly satisfied with your efforts she turned to your other girlfriend and again tapped her lips expectantly. with a roll of her eyes that mirrored yours ingrid joined the two of you in bed, ducking her head and fiercely kissing the shorter girl beneath her.

as they broke apart a tattooed hand gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back down, your girlfriends tongue filthily licking the inside of your mouth as ingrids lips kissed gently down your bare shoulders, the sleeves of one of mapi's shirts rolled up and hanging off your body.

turning your head you nudged ingrids chin up and pressed your mouth to hers, nipping at her bottom lip and smiling as she pinched your hips in a silent warning.

though right as you felt mapi's calloused palms sliding up your thighs and toying with the waistband of your underwear you grabbed her hands, pinning them either side of her head and pulling away from the norwegian who frowned and attempted to chase your lips.

"is something burning?" you sniffed the air, letting go of one of mapi's hands to press against ingrids chest, stopping her as her eyes widened and within seconds she'd flown off the bed and raced off into the kitchen.

"my eggs!"

"hola capi." you smiled in greeting, kissing alexia's cheek as the taller girl pulled you into a hug. "hola, i hope you remembered our deal chica." the blonde raised an eyebrow, nodding behind you to where your girlfriend was taking photos with jana.

"deal? i don't remember a deal." you smiled slyly, the older girls face turning downward into a frown as she opened her mouth to scald you and you ducked away, tucking yourself into frido who squeezed you tightly lifting you off your feet a little.

"vale amigas!" jana clapped, nodding for the small group of girls to follow her to their seats as you again darted away from alexia who tried to grab the back of your jacket, grabbing your girlfriends free hand instead.

"hold this please princesa." mapi handed you her crutch and leaned more of her bodyweight into you as you helped her up the few stairs and down into her seat.

catching ingrids eye as they lined up to take the team photo on the pitch below you sent her a grin and a wave, the brunette sending you a wink before an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you away.

"alexia!" you huffed, pushing her off as she cornered you at the end of the aisle. "amiga you promised! i sat with her last week it is your turn." the older girl poked at your chest with a fierce glare which did very little to rattle you given you knew deep down she was just a big teddy bear.

"i live with her every day! you can sit with her for two hours ale she is your best friend." you poked her back as the captain scoffed, opening her mouth to argue with you as there was a tug on the back of your jacket.

"what's the matter?" your girlfriend asked with a frown, looking between the two of you for an answer. "they are arguing over who has to sit next to you because you do not shut up the whole match." jana piped up from the seat beside her, shoveling a mouthful of popcorn into her mouth as frido smacked her leg mumbling about manners.

"what!" mapi protested with wide eyes, looking to both of you for some sort of clarification but the guilty smiles she received only confirmed it as the brunette scoffed.

"i do not talk the whole match!" mapi argued with a scowl as alexia utilized the opportunity to push past you and dart down to the free seat beside frido, sending you a victorious smirk.

"puta!" you mouthed back at her before dropping down into the seat beside your now very sullen looking girlfriend. "do you really think i talk too much?" mapi asked, eyebrows knitted into a deep seeded frown and arms crossed over her chest.

"corazón you don't talk too much all the time, but you do talk a lot during the games, even at home." you answered kindly but honestly, trying to grab her hand as she moved it out of the way.

"bien i will not speak a single word the whole match. watch!" mapi challenged, scowl deepening as your face softened. "mi amor i don't want that, please." you promised, squeezing her knee as she purposefully avoided your gaze as the whistle blew.

with a sigh and a shake of your head knowing just how stubborn the defender really could be you opted out of arguing with her about it, instead pulling her arms apart and grabbing her hand, interlacing your fingers.

glancing to her left and meeting your gaze the girl softened and sighed, interlacing her fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand as your smile returned.

but despite your prompting and questions she really was one of the most stubborn women you'd met, and not a single word left her mouth the entire first half beside the occasional hum of agreement.

"maría! this is stupid por favor, talk to me." you practically begged as the defender shrugged, turning back to the pitch and pulling out her phone as you groaned.

"i don't see why you are complaining chica, this has been the most peaceful match." alexia sighed dropping into the chair beside you as jana wandered off to get more food with frido as mapi sent her best friend a dirty look.

ignoring her you continued to try and get a comment from her, the match resuming and the silence continuing. "bebé vamos i miss the sound of your voice, pleasee." you poked at her cheek as she swatted away your hand, tucking her knees to her chest and focusing on the pitch.

giving up with a defeated huff you did the same, cheering extra loud for your girlfriend and friends considering the silence bar some clapping from beside you.

the girls wrapping it up with a 4-0 win you all stood and started to head back down into the tunnel to greet them, frustratingly your girlfriend still remaining silent just humming every now and then as jana rambled on about her weekend plans.

"hello kjæreste." ingrid grinned as you flew toward her, the taller girl wrapping you in a hug and spinning you around a little before gently placing you back down, mindful of your knee which was a few weeks off of you finally returning to the pitch again.

"you played so well baby, you're really coming into your own and your confidence holding the back line!" you complimented, smiling at the soft blush which coated her cheeks, kissing them and turning away as mapi joined you.

"hola mi amor." mapi greeted your girlfriend with a tight hug and you sighed in relief to finally hear her voice again. but as you asked them where they wanted to go for dinner it became apparent that though the defender was talking, it wasn't to you.

"maría!"

"mi amor can you please tell princesa that i would like some water?" mapi craned her neck back and looked upward to ingrid who smiled, much to your dismay not taking your side.

"if you want water, you can ask me yourself!" you stood in front of her with hands on your hips and a scowl, the spaniard only smiling at you enjoying how much this was getting under your skin.

"mapi! what do i have to do? i already said sorry!" you whined, ingrid squeezing the older girls hips who sighed. "mi amor, please tell princesa that if she makes me a cake, i will forgive her." your girlfriend relayed as ingrid gave you a look and you groaned stomping off to the kitchen.

"love it is nearly ten at night, give her a break. you do talk too much and you know it! but we love you anyway." ingrid chuckled, kissing at the girls neck who sighed. "but this is much more fun, she does whatever i want." mapi grinned cheekily but with a stern look from the younger girl she exhaled deeply, pushing up and off of her.

"bebita, come cuddle." you pulled your head out of the pantry at the sound of her voice, ignoring her open arms and continuing to rummage around. "hey, did you hear me?" mapi frowned as you grabbed out a packet of sweets you'd hidden and kicked the pantry closed.

"bebé!" you called out to ingrid who raised an eyebrow curiously. "can you please tell maría that-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before the older girl pounced, her lips ravishing yours as she pressed your shorter form against the counter top, teeth gently biting down on your bottom lip and tugging on it with a smirk.

"don't even try it princesa."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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fanged-fanfics · 25 days ago

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Hello! I hope you're doing alright and that you're getting plenty of rest. I've recently discovered your blog, and I love your one shots that I've read so far. I've read your Macaque x GN reader with a baby (which is cute, btw), but I was wondering if you could do one with Sun Wukong as well? Maybe in this one, while little baby is watching their daddy and MK train and witnessing Sun do an impressive move, the baby excitedly calls out Dada to him. Cue the proud, teary-eyed papa flinging them high in the air (but not too high), happy that he is their first word, while GN reader watches on, also proud of their little one

🧡👑 Little Peach Speaks — Wukong x Parent!GN Reader Drabble 👑🧡

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

For quite a while, parenting wasn't something Wukong was sure he was going to do. His strongest memories of interactions with kids were the likes of Nezha and Red Boy. Both of which were mainly him fighting them violently, which did not give a good start to potential parenting. MK was a much better example of his capabilities, even if the kid was more like a little brother. Still, it wasn't perfect, but he had slowly warmed up to the idea as the years went by.

You, however, had changed a lot of that. With you by his side, he was able to feel comfort and reassurance that he had been missing. Learning to communicate with you strengthened his confidence, and after a good long while, you both agreed to have your little cub. Wukong stuck to the ideal immediately, imprinting as a father onto the cub the second they were born. He may not be perfect (he was used to the FFM cubs, which were more durable and a lot closer to keeping up with him), but several hours of watching you tend to the cub with wide and damp eyes helped him greatly.

Taking the cub along for training with MK didn't initially seem like a good idea. The training, of course, usually didn't get too bad, but there was sufficient flinging and big heroic tricks that made the area of the dojo dedicated to it one to tread with caution. So, to keep out of harm's way, you were given a special spot a few feet from where the training would actually take place, fit with you own special chair and a side mini table to rest your belongings. You were gently bouncing the little cub in your lap, the baby awake and alert. They looked around with their wide and curious eyes, taking in all the colors and new shapes the dojo provided. The gentle feeling of warm sun rays was also good for them. You had a steady hand around the cub, balancing and watching them closely.

Your eyes occasionally flicked to the scuffle ahead, seeing the two lads train tirelessly as always. You smiled, hearing your cub coo in their direction. You sat them on your lap, sitting up straighter. "I know you can't see it very well, but that gold blurr right there is your baba" you explained. The cub babbled softly, and you chuckled as you gently pet their fuzzy little head. "He's always a busy monkey. But he's training the next hero, you know" you explained. You were aware this was mostly you talking to the air, but your cub had their little eyes latched onto the training session. So you pretended they were old enough to understand, if only for a little humor. "He does this to protect you, little sprout. To protect all the people of the city. He's a very strong hero"

The cub had their fist in their mouth, gumming at it absentmindedly. You gently pulled it out for them, rubbing the itty bitty paw with a cleaning rag you had prepped. As you did so, the cub stared steadily ahead. Wukong pushed off of an attempted staff swing from MK, doing a backflip in the air before landing on his prehensile tail. He chuckled as MK stumbled back, leaning on his knees with wheezing pants. "Good job, bud! Getting a liiittle faster!" He beamed proudly. "It doesn't feel like it" MK complained with an irritated pout. Wukong chuckled, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders before getting into a battle stance again. "That means it's working! If this was easy, it wouldn't be good training". MK groaned, spinning the staff around. After a quick chug from a nearby water bottle (one of your ideas), he shook his head before crouching as well.

Before either could charge, Wukong's ears picked up on a very small and struggled out, "Dada!". His head whipped around in your direction, seeing you looking down at your cub surprised. Wukong narrowly missed an attempted hit by MK by immediately zipping to your side, leaving the successor to fumble. "Did they-?" Wukong asked, and you nodded "They did, I swear! Just now". Wukong kneeled down, level with his cub "Can you say it again, little peach? Please? For dad?". The baby giggled, leaning forwards and putting a tiny paw on his nose and chirping out a "Dada!"

Wukong's face lit up like the sun, scooping the cub from your lap in a swift motion. He tossed them up in the air, but kept in mind his strength, catching them immediately "Yes!! Dada, that's right! Oh, good job, little peach! That's so perfect" he said, voice full of vibrant joy "Can you say 'baba'?". "Abbppt.. bb... daba!" The cub babbled. Wukong tucked them into his chest, nuzzling his cheek into the top of their head "Good enough! Oh, you're so smart already! You're gonna be the next Great Sage, huh?" He cooed. You stepped up, a hand on his shoulder as you pet the cub's chubby left cheek "Such a smart little blossom" you said gently, chuckling as you noticed a tear pricking Wukong's eye. He gave the cub a kiss on their head, before kissing your cheek "They're perfect, sunshine" he said, before adding in a teasing tone, "Told ya I'd be who they said first". You gave him a playful light nudge, heart full of pride as you looked at your grinning cub.

"Uh.. Monkey King?" MK asked nervously "Should I... go, or-?"

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rafesangelita · 6 months ago

Note

hi angel! i love your work so much and fell in love with bambi!reader, so i was hoping you could write something for me ^_^

can you pls pls pls write bambi!reader comforting rafe after he gets into it with ward? i feel like she’d know exactly how to comfort himmm (pure fluff pls, i read too much smut lmaooo)

warnings: ward cameron, arguing, shouting, a little bit of physical violence, poor rafe who deserves so much better, mention of murder (i’m not referencing peterkin), fluff, soft petting, words of affirmation

a/n: aww bambi!reader has been getting so much love, it makes my heart happy to know that you enjoy the works that she’s in <3

“you had one job, rafe.. one!” ward had been shouting at rafe for nearly an hour already, his face flush with anger. “you really have a way of fucking things up, huh? i should put a caution sign on your forehead.” rafe’s fist clenched as he listened to his father, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest with every word that ward spat.

“i already told you that i couldn’t close out the business accounts and wire the money to a different one. apparently i’m not next in line to own cameron development anymore. ‘you know something about that?” rafe was in disbelief when he had to find out from a service representative that his own father took him off of the family business, something that he worked hard all these years for in order to prove he was worthy of running.

ward froze. he had forgotten about that. “were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just gonna be a coward about it?” rafe stood up, towering over his father with that crazy look in his eyes. “what you forgot to do before you faked your own death instead of facing your problems like a man, was take my name off of the inheritance of tanneyhill.” he laughed, “i own this shit now.” rafe stepped closer, backing ward into the wall. “get out of my house.” ward was seething, his hand coming up to fist rafe’s shirt.

“your house? i’m the one who worked like a dog to get us here.” ward said through gritted teeth, shoving rafe in his chest. rafe stumbled, scoffing out a laugh as he then pushed his father. “worked like a dog to get us here but you were more than willing to leave me here while you start a new life in fuckin’ guadeloupe.” rafe fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“leave. and don’t ever come back.” ward’s chest was rising and falling, both him and rafe glaring at one another. “you’re cut off. good luck keeping up with this place on your own.” ward smiled bitterly. “cut off?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “i’ve been cut off, dad. i haven’t used a cent of yours since i was nineteen. all this time i’ve been making money my own way, and a lot of it too. ‘seems like your old man brain forgot about that.” rafe nudged ward as he walked past, his father following him out of the master bedroom.

“i’m leaving. when i come back i want you out of here,” rafe grabbed his truck keys, his skin on fire as he looked up the staircase, “and by the way, asshole, i’m not by myself. i got the prettiest girl on the island on my arm everywhere i go.” ward watched as his son walked out the front door. rafe was seeing red the whole time he drove to your house, cursing under his breath as he recalled his father’s words.

“the fucking nerve that guy has.” he punched the steering wheel, nostrils flaring as tears pricked at his eyes. he was the only one who was there to take care of things when ward was ‘gone’. even going as far as committing crimes so his father wouldn’t face any kind of scrutiny. yet, there he was telling him that he was a fuck up.

rafe spent the next five minutes mumbling to himself, his hands shaking as he parked outside your driveway. you were curled up on the porch swing, an open book in your lap when he walked up the stone path. all it took was one look at your boyfriend to have you scrambling up from your seat, eager to soothe him in any way you can. “oh, ray, what’s wrong?” you guided him inside, locking the door shut before both of you made your way up to your room.

“it’s ward. he came back just to tell me shit about not closing the bank accounts under cameron development.” you knew all about rafe’s conflict with his father. from the way he favored everyone else over his eldest, to the constant nagging and insults. sitting rafe down on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk at the sight of defeat in his shoulders, his eyes void of any emotion.

slipping his shoes off, you took your usual seat in his lap, stroking the outline of his jaw as he vented. “i’ll never be good enough for him. i killed for him goddamit, and what do i get in return? ‘i should put a caution sign on your forehead.’ rafe imitated ward’s voice from earlier. you blinked, pecking his cheek. “you’re an amazing son, rafe. shame on him for not recognizing that.” rafe stared up at you, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

you were the only one that looked at him with pure adoration, the only one who made him feel like he had a purpose. “i think you’re amazing, rafe. you don’t sit around, waiting to get things done, you’re so helpful, and so, so kind— to me.” he chuckled at the clarification, rubbing a large hand over your knee. “you think so?” he leaned his head against your chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “i know so.” you sighed, breathing in his scent.

“wanna be little spoon tonight?” your voice alone made him relax, his eyes fluttering shut.

“..yeah.”

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riddlesb1tch · 7 months ago

Text

Nature's A Bitch

Azriel x reader

summary: Reader is on her period and amidst the crankiness due to a lack of sleep and her hormones going haywire, she says something to Azriel she doesn't mean. Now, she has to apologise.

warnings: mentions of blood (only once and nothing gory)

You clutched your stomach, groaning in pain as another cramp hit. Earlier in the night, you’d woken up to excruciating pain in your abdomen and had odiously discovered you’d gotten your period. The rest of the night was spent barely getting any sleep, staying in a fetal position in an attempt to relieve the cramping. However, they only seemed to intensify as the night went on. Your only option was to ignore the pain and try to fall asleep.

It was a Saturday morning when the usual knock sounded on the door. You buried yourself under the covers, groaning, trying to drown out the annoying sound of Azriel knocking on the door. Due to having barely gotten any sleep the previous night, you’d rather never wake up again than be awoken at this hour. Especially knowing what waking up entailed.

This was routine for the two of you. You and Azriel had been best friends for decades and somewhere along the way, you fell into a routine where Azriel woke you up on days he was home with a hot cup of coffee. The two of you would sit in bed and drink it then head to training.

Of course, this caused both of you to get teased a lot by the rest of IC about each other but you didn't care. It was fun chatting with Azriel about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. Today, though, you just weren’t in the mood or the physical state to wake up.

By your guess, it was the ass crack of dawn right now, like every single day when he came to wake you. Mother Nature had built a chicken into this male that started cawckawing at the first rays of sunlight. This normally amiable quality of his annoyed the shit out of you today.

The knocking continued on the door but you didn’t respond, doing your best to ignore the sound and sleep again.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Azriel’s voice boomed as he barged into your room. His thudding footsteps approached the bed before he rolled you over to make space for himself to sit.

“Brought you coffee,” he said gently. Extra black as you like it.”

You continued ignoring him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone for the day. He did not, however, because you could still feel his knee slightly nudging your back as he sat next to you on the bed. Honestly, his presence felt quite nice because suffering all night felt a bit lonely. It was only his relentless attempts at waking you up that nagged you.

When you didn’t reply, Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Y/n?” He asked, peeling the covers back from your face a little bit.

You didn’t know why this simple act enraged you so much. It was the mood swings that came with a period but the simple act of Az lifting the covers off your face made you snap. You sat up so fast that Azriel jerked back in surprise, spilling some of the coffee on your covers.

“What the fuck do you want, Azriel?” you yelled, furiously glaring at Azriel who looked at you stunned. He had never witnessed an outburst like this from you.

He gaped for a second, then said, “What do you mean? I came to wake you up like I do every morning,” he stated in confusion.

You shook your head in frustration, massaging your temples to relieve the building headache now.

“Yeah well maybe I don’t want your ass barging in here every fucking morning to ruin my day,” you said in frustration, pulling the covers back over your head and trying to fall asleep.

Azriel’s heart dropped all the way to his feet. That was the one sentence he’d dreaded to hear from anyone in the family but it especially stung coming from you. You and Azriel had been there for each other for the longest time. You had been there every single time he felt his inadequacies overtaking his qualities, been there to bring him down from every single nightmare, every reminder of his horrible past. So for him, it felt like having all that information made you realise you didn’t want to be his friend and simply put up with him because you were too kind to hurt him. Well, that had been his suspicion. A suspicion you’d just confirmed.

You didn’t see the pained look in Azriel’s eyes when you said that, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil of emotions. Some part of him knew you didn’t mean it and were probably just having a bad day. Another, bigger part of him though, was chastising him for being a burden, telling him that he was as unwanted as he’d always thought and now the truth was in front of him.

He got up from your bed and set the coffee cup on your nightstand. This time, no thudding footsteps were telling you he was walking out of your room. You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind Azriel before you were pulled back into a deep slumber.

You woke up around noon, still in excruciating pain from your cramps. Some part of you wanted to stay in bed, in the comfort of your blankets and the warmth they provided. Eventually, though, the disgust from the blood overtook your need to be comfortable, and you willed yourself out of bed. You took a hot shower, used some muscle relief balm on your back and stomach to relieve the pain, changed into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, then guzzled down a couple of painkillers from Madja to rid yourself of some of the misery.

Afterwards, you headed out to eat something.

Because it was the weekend, most of your family was home. Chatter was heard from the living room: sounds of talking, laughing, dishes clinking, and chairs scraping against the floor. A small smile made it to your face. While the scales of your emotions were tilted more to the negative side during your cycle, the bright sounds of chatter and laughter never failed to lift your spirits a little.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted in a much more chirpy mood than earlier this morning.

“‘Morning’ ended 2 hours ago,” Mor judged.

You rolled your eyes at the blonde and looked around at everyone in attendance. One person seemed to be missing; the one who was always there if he was home because family mattered to him the most. So when he was absent from family time, you frowned.

“Where’s Az?” you asked.

“I actually…don’t know,” Rhysand replied, brows furrowing. It was weird that even Rhysand didn’t know where Azriel was since due to his prying nature, he always entered people’s heads and found out what everyone was doing. So if Rhysand was unable to do that, that meant Azriel had blocked him out, which could mean only one thing: he was brooding.

Without another word to your family, you turned around and headed straight for Azriel’s room. Honestly, chances were low you’d find him there since his favourite place to brood was either the terrace or the bench in front of the Sidra, but given the rest of the family was home, there was a higher chance he’d stay in his room to avoid the risk of people talking to him.

You gently rapped your knuckles on the door. There was no response, so you tried twisting the door handle. His room was open, as always, so you walked in…into complete darkness. The room was shrouded in shadows running rampant, trying to veil Azriel from whoever may enter the room.

You practically felt the shadows exhale in relief when you entered as if they’d been waiting for you to come and negate whatever thoughts were running around in their master’s head.

“Azriel?” you called into the darkness.

Silently, you closed the door behind you. Azriel would not appreciate more people prying when he was feeling like this. From muscle memory, you took slow and careful footsteps towards the bed. Shadows swarmed you as you walked, brushing your legs as if urging you on.

Finally, you reached the bed. Your shins hit the mattress and you leaned forward to rest your hands on the bed and feel around to see where exactly Azriel was. Your hand slightly brushed the side of his thigh and you exhaled with relief. Immediately though, that turned into a sharp inhale when Azriel jerked away from your touch.

That was weird. He’d never done that before.

Guessing as to which way he was sitting, you settled down next to him on the bed, one leg folded on the bed while the other dangled off the edge.

“Az?” you called, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked.

Once again, Azriel turned away from your touch. Your anxiety was growing now as you grew more agitated with not knowing what was bothering him.

“Talk to me,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“You-” a broken voice came. “You don’t need to pretend to care, Y/n,” Azriel said.

“‘Pretend to care’ what? What do you mean?” you asked. “Pretend to care about what?”

“About me,” he sniffled.

Your heart audibly cracked.

“Azriel,” you said in a stern voice. “You know I love you. How dare you accuse me of pretending to care about you when you know you’re my best friend.”

He scoffed and you just knew he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t sound like it this morning,” he said angrily.

Now you were confused. You thought back to what happened this morning. You recalled Azriel walking in with a cup of coffee. You didn’t like that he was trying to wake you up. And then you said-

Your eyes widened as the realisation dawned on you.

“Oh Azriel,” you said, at a loss of words to excuse your shitty behaviour. “I- I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage.

“Just forget about it, Y/n. At least now I know the truth,” he resigned.

“No,” you stated adamantly. “You don’t know the truth.”

“Then please, enlighten me. Cause where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been putting up with me for the past five decades because you don’t have the guts to tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me!”

The pain in his voice killed you.

“Azzy,” you sighed in defeat. “I started my cycle yesterday,” you explained. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I just couldn’t sleep the whole night and the thought of getting out of bed was the most painful thing ever so I snapped when you pulled the covers back. I’m sorry, I should have just told you what was going on.”

As you spoke, you noticed the shadows slowly retreating to their corners. Little by little, you could see Azriel sitting in front of you. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and tear-stained cheeks. You felt horrible. You brought a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek.

“Oh Az,” you sighed.

“Is that true?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation.

“Yes,” you nodded earnestly. “Azzie, there’s no relationship I value more than yours and I would never, ever intentionally do anything to damage it. I would especially never intentionally hurt you. I hate myself for saying what I did. I hope you can forgive me,” you pleaded with him.

Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. “Of course.”

You could finally see all of him now. The shadows had completely retreated to their corners save for a couple that remained to stroke your cheek with affection as if thanking you for clearing things up with their master.

“I love you, Azzie,” you smiled at him.

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel said.

He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and clung to you. In that one hug, he communicated what losing you meant for him, and you vowed to yourself to protect this male at all costs.

tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites

Masterlist

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fluff #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader angst #acotar angst #azriel shadowsinger angst #azriel shadowsinger x reader angst

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rileyslibrary · 1 year ago

Text

You discover Ghost’s secret collection. (platonic and a little bittersweet)

———————————————————————

“My office, 5 pm,” he said.

And that’s precisely what you did.

It’s 5 pm sharp, and you’re standing outside Ghost’s office. The worn wooden door stares back at you, and you knock on it twice, pausing for a few seconds before swinging it open. It’s such an odd ritual, this brief interlude between acknowledging one’s privacy and invading it—a fine line or, in this case, two knocks away, between respect and intrusion.

Or, at least, that would be the case if someone was inside to intrude on. Because, peeking your head through the door, you realise your lieutenant is nowhere to be found.

“Lieutenant Riley?” You say out loud.

Silence.

“Ghost?” You say again, this time louder.

Nothing.

You recall his orders. My office, 5 pm.

You check your watch. It’s 5 pm.

“Simon?” You finally whisper as you enter the room, closing the door behind you.

You approach his desk and sit on the chair across from his; your go-to chair whenever you come in here to talk strategy, report on various matters, or vent when something doesn’t go as planned, and you need someone to lend you an ear. He does the latter exceptionally well. Apart from when he decides to serve you with cold, hard truths such as “It was your choice though, wasn’t it,” or “ah, but you started it, so why do you whine now.”

Your gaze drifts to the clock on his desk. You grab it, turn it towards you and peek at the time, thinking that your watch might be in the wrong and you’re indeed intruding. But no. It’s a few minutes past five; he should have been here by now.

You hear footsteps right above you, where the captain’s office is located. They’re not heavy steps but firm. Steps from someone who doesn’t need to assert their presence; they already know who—or what—they are. It’s him, you think. He is up there. Price must have kept him busy; that’s why he’s late.

You adjust your position on the chair, straightening your back and stretching your neck. Left ear to left shoulder, right ear to right shoulder, rotating your head to the right, towards the window, and then to the other side, where a bookshelf is located.

And then, something on the bookshelf catches your eye amid the files and maps stacked on its shelves. You squint, trying to figure out its shape as the sun’s rays reflect on its surface.

You stand up and approach the bookshelf. Your back creates a barrier between the object and the sun, revealing its proper form.

A snow globe.

You trace your fingers on the shiny exterior. Although the scenery portrayed inside the globe is cold and uninviting, the sun has warmed the glass up. Isn’t that how he is? Cold on the outside, uninviting. Touch his insides, those depths of his psyche that he hides so well, and he’s warm. Almost kind. Almost.

You lift it from its position. Heavy. There’s a wolf inside, sitting in the middle. Lonely.

You shake the globe and stare in a trance as the white flakes fall on the miniature wolf. You look closer; it’s not a wolf. It looks more like a...

“Siberian Husky.” You hear his voice from behind you.

Your hands twitch, and the snow globe almost slips from your grasp. Reflexes kick in instantly, and you regain control, gripping the snow globe’s base with both hands. You bring it closer to your chest.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ghost!” You shout.

He closes the door behind him and walks towards his office chair. You place the snow globe on the shelf but keep staring at it.

“A gift?” You ask, pointing towards it.

“No,” he says, opening his desk drawer and taking some papers. “I bought it.”

“You bought it.” You repeat, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes,” he nods. “For my collection.”

“For your collection.” You repeat, raising your other eyebrow as well.

He stops fiddling with the papers and looks at you.

“Is this how we’re going to keep this conversation going?” He asks.

You look at him, then back at the snow globe.

“S-so you collect snow globes?” You ask.

“That’s what I said.” He replies.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” he shrugs. “Souvenirs.”

You have so many questions. So, so many. As if a stray snow globe in the lieutenant’s office wasn’t peculiar enough, now you have the words ‘collection’ and ‘souvenirs’ adding to your confusion.

Another “why” escapes your lips as you trace the snow globe with your fingers. He sighs, slowly standing up from his seat and walking towards the bookshelf. He probably thinks you won’t get to the actual nature of the meeting if your questions aren’t answered.

“Why do I collect snow globes, or why do I collect things in general?” He asks, now standing next to you.

“Snow globes,” you state. “Why snow globes?”

“It’s a small world, innit?” he whispers, lifting it from the shelf. “They are not empty bullet shells or loots from a dead civilian’s house. Plus, I fucking hate keyrings.”

You chuckle, and he turns to look at you.

“When did you start collecting them?” You ask, leaning on the bookshelf, watching him play with the globe.

“Since I began going on missions,” he explains. He lifts the globe higher, towards the sun. “Every time I visit a country for the first time, I buy myself one.”

“An homage to the country?”

“Sort of like that,” he nods. “Especially if you buy it from an old lady who probably needs the money.”

You both look at the globe, reflecting the sunlight towards you. No wonder you mistook the husky for a wolf. People often mistake Ghost for a wolf. Yet, here he is, collecting snow globes and supporting small businesses. He’s a husky; loyal and protective. A smile threatens to escape your lips, but you suppress it.

“It’s pretty.” You whisper.

“You like it?” He asks.

You nod, this time unable to keep your smile concealed.

“You can have it,” he says, extending the snow globe to you and releasing it in your hands.

“No, Lt.!” you shout. “I’d never-”

“Ah, nonsense!” He shouts back, already walking towards his desk. “I’ll be going again next week, so I’ll buy me another one.”

“B-but this signifies your first time there!” You retort.

“And this might be my last,” he replies. He sits back on his chair and pulls it close to the desk as he motions for you to do the same.

But you don’t comply. Instead, you stand where he left you, holding the snow globe close to your chest. You look worried. He looks content.

“Is that why you visited Price before coming here?”

He nods. His eyes have formed little creases at their corners; a hint he’s smiling under that mask of his.

“Sir, please, don’t say that,” you whisper, “you’ll have plenty of first times again.”

He lets out a sharp chuckle and leans back on his chair.

“We, as soldiers, rarely think about our first times,” he explains. “For most people, first times are good. They make them reminiscent of the past. To us, first times are rarely good. Think about it: first time getting shot, first getting captured, first time killing someone.”

“What about winning?” You ask as you approach his desk. “First time winning a war?”

“Ah,” he sighs, “winning.” He interlocks his fingers and lowers his eyes to his lap.

“Yes, winning.” You state, sitting on the chair across from him and placing the snow globe on the desk. “Wars against drugs, against human trafficking, terrorism.”

“Winning a war is a fallacy.” He whispers.

“Lt., what are you saying?” You chuckle nervously, baffled by his response. “That’s war for you; there’re always winners and losers!”

“We’re all losers in war,” he says, raising his index finger to the air. “All but one.”

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head at him. “Who?” you ask.

“Death.” He replies. “Death is the one and only winner; the rest of us are just playing his game.”

———————————————————————

A/N: This was a WIP for a loooooong time. I remember answering an ask a few months ago, hinting at something to do with snow, but I couldn’t find the inspiration to finish it. And then, be it the events of MWIII, be it the Frozen Tundra, it finally clicked. I hope you enjoyed it and I didn’t make you sad. Ghost will return from his trip, and we’ll get to annoy tf out of him again, so don’t worry.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x gn!reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost cod #call of duty

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redfoxwritesstuff · 16 days ago

Text

AN: We've made it 10 days! Good news, unlike some people, I don't have any angst for you... because I don't lick doorknobs.

Summary: You're beyond floored when Alastor asked you to allow him the honor of courting you. You were far from sure as to what that entailed however, with a powerful overlord asking for your time and another lurking in the distance, her thumbs up and smile wide- your back was against a wall. Though you had no idea what to expect from courtship with Alastor, what came with your first outing left you eager to come back for more.

CW: Semi public sex, pool sex, sex on the first date, multiple orgasms, female receiving oral, p in v sex

Your heels clicked against the cool tile in the halls, the sound mixing with Alastor’s making a new music you were only beginning to become familiar with. His long fingers rested across your eyes, hands stacked to keep you wrapped in his arms, blinded by his fingers.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you walked, trusting Alastor to lead the way. Could Alastor hear how it joined the music of your steps? Or was that part of the song of trust for you alone? Letting someone lead you blindfolded anywhere took a lot of trust, especially in hell.

That was even more so true when the person leading you was The Radio Demon, Alastor. You and he hadn’t known eachother a great long time, not really in the grand timeline of hell, but he had caught your eye the day you landed, freshly deceased and judged unworthy of crossing through the gates of heaven.

It had been a few years since then and you couldn’t begin to say when you caught his attention. The two of you seemed to orbit each other, social circles brushing but only just. He existed just on the outside of your circle, an ever present looming red mark that demanded your attention every time he caught your eye but never seeming to properly cross into your circle.

You were a frequent flyer in Cannibal Town and considered Rosie to be as close to a friend as one could call the overlord that owned your soul. She was kind and always so eager to listen to your stories of a life spent on island beaches, sun’s rays warming your skin as your thick hair danced in the salty ocean breeze. She eagerly devoured your stories of island life as that red blotch existed, just off in the distance, waiting for his turn to bask in Rosie’s attention. Though, perhaps bask wasn’t the right word, considering he was an overlord himself.

Needless to say, when Alastor approached you a few days ago and asked if you would consider doing him the honor of allowing him to court you, you thought at first it was some sick joke. You nearly laughed before you caught sight of Rosie standing off behind him with her thumbs up and what could have been the largest smile you had ever seen on her face. Oh, he was serious. This was serious.

“Okay,” you tentatively answered, unsure exactly what you were supposed to do or say. Hell, you were not even sure what the fuck ‘courting’ was or if it was any different from dating, if at all. That wasn’t really something you could ask Alastor, you were sure of it.

“Wonderful!” Alastor had said, cheer radiating off of him as he took your hand in his and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’ll pick you up in a week for our first outing!”

And just like that, he let the emporium in a flutter and you asking, “What the hell just happened?”

You had no more clarification now than you had a week ago. Rosie was no help, simply cooing over you. Whatever had just happened, you knew she had her fingers in it and what’s worse; you were certain she had her fingers in what was happening now too.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Alastor teased as he turned, walking you both backward. He used his back to push open the door, a tentacle reaching out from him to keep it from swinging back on you. “Are you afraid?”

“Anyone would be a little frightened to put so much trust in you,” you whispered, unsure if you should be honest with your… whatever Alastor was to you. Would it be wrong to ask him if courting meant that he was your boyfriend or if that was some other step down the line?

Perhaps you could save your dignity and just ask Rosie again. She was from the same time period, wasn’t she? Eventually, she would have to give you an answer, right?

“I pulled a few strings,” Alastor spoke, turning you again to walk forward. He seemed to not mind that you had admitted mistrust in him, however softly you had said it. “I hope you find it acceptable.”

Wherever Alastor was taking you, you knew you were outside again. The hot air of hell brushed against your skin. If only you could feel the warmth of the sun, you could almost think you were home again with the way the heat radiated, sinking into your bones.

Alastor stopped at some point though you couldn’t say how far you had walked with his hands covering your eyes. After waiting a few moments, he dropped his hands, revealing the last thing you had expected to see in hell.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight in front of you. Alastor chuckled at the gasp that passed between your lips. Before you was a large outdoor swimming pool, filled with clean water that sparkled impossibly blue in the dim light of hell.

“What do you mean, ‘you pulled some strings’?” You turned, facing Alastor with wide eyes.

He looked down at you with a soft smile. “I called in a few favors with the Morningstar family to get this new asset for the hotel rushed. I… I requested it a few weeks ago with you in mind.”

“A few weeks ago?” He had only asked to court you a week ago. What was his plan if you had said no?

Alastor seemed to hesitate for a moment, “Yes, is… is that acceptable? The way you’d talk of swimming, you seemed to long for it.”

You threw your arms around Alastor, jumping up as you hung from his neck. He stepped back, caught by surprise at your enthusiasm. It was hardly a proper display. You knew he favored propriety, much like Rosie did, but in your excitement, you lost yourself. You were about to let go when his arm settled around your waist, holding you to him in a soft hug.

“Thank you, Alastor,” you whispered into his neck. “I haven’t swum since my death.”

“I’m glad you find it acceptable.” He guided you down to your feet.

“I can’t wait!” You grinned up at him before turning on your heels. After a second of hesitation of your own, you took up Alastor’s hand and ran toward the edge of the pool.

“If you’d like to step over into the changing rooms,” Alastor slowed, pulling his hand from yours to gesture to the changing rooms only to find you pulling your shirt up over your head and throwing it aside as you continued eagerly toward the pool.

“Oh,” Alastor chuckled as you looked back at him, shimmying out of your pants. “That’s not what I expected.”

“Are you coming?” You called as you stretched, standing in just your bra and panties, uncaring, or at least so it looked to Alastor, of the fact that he had never seen so much of your skin exposed before.

“I was going to go change,” Alastor again motioned to the changing rooms, though his feet carried him close and closer to the pool’s edge.

He watched as you turned, bra clinging to your breasts as you smiled at him. Red eyes ran over your skin, taking in the curves that had been hidden from him for years. His mother had raised him better than to greedily take in the sight of a disrobed woman outside of the privacy of his home, but she also had raised him better than to murder.

You held your arms out to the sides, smile wide as you watched Alastor’s eyes run down your torso. He had a moment to admire the lacy panties, red as blood that hugged your mound, spreading into thin straps over your hips before you fell back.

Water splashed up around you as you sank deep into the pool. Glee sang in your heart as the water embraced your body. You twisted and turned in it, allowing your body to sink lower and before you pulled yourself toward the surface.

Blinking water from your eyes, you found a sight you never thought you’d see.

Alastor had shed his shirt, shoes kicked off to the side. His eyes met yours as he let his pants fall from around his waist. He stepped out of them, hooves clicking softly against the tiles of the roof.

The sight of him, standing in the closest thing to sunlight hell offered, had your heart pounding in your chest. He was tall, nothing but long, lean lines that seemed to go on forever. Everyone in hell had their bodies twisted, shaped and pushed into something that was a far cry from humanity, in one way or another. Most, like Alastor, took on animal traits and features.

Finding the things to love, to find acceptable in the forms of others and one’s self in hell took many time. Some never managed to even find acceptance in their new form. You had been blessed, finding yourself pleasing, well enough at least. Though you missed what you had been, you didn’t hate what you had become.

You couldn’t tell if Alastor felt the same about his form. He had been covered from neck to toe for the whole of the time you had known him. You didn’t even realize he had hooves tucked into his shoes.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Alastor asked as he stepped toward the edge of the pool.

“Can you swim with hooves?” you asked, cocking your head to the side as you leaned against the edge of the pool.

“I suppose we’re going to find out,” Alastor’s smile turned wide, grin cutting across his face as he sat on the edge and let his legs into the water.

“I’m surprised,” you said, pushing back from the wall to float away easily on your back. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. You didn’t.. You didn’t have to do this for me. Favors are as good as gold down here, and you burned some for me.”

“It’s just a small taste of what is within my power,” Alastor said, swimming toward you. His hoofs clearly made swimming take more effort, yet he managed easily enough.

“You don’t have to buy my affection, you know?” You arched your back, kicking your legs and sending yourself under the water’s surface with the practiced ease of a lifetime spent in the water.

Alastor watched, one ear cocked to the side as a bemused smile settled on his lips. If he didn’t have to buy your affections, how would he go about getting them? You were, as you always were, a mystery to him. As you cut a practiced path under the water’s surface, he could only wait as he watched.

Oh, you were beautiful.

You surfaced in a show, water exploding from your arms as you thrust them up into the air. Hands smoothed water from your hair, sending it cascading down your neck as you gasped for air. As the surrounding water settled, a bright smile grew on your face.

Alastor treaded water nearby, water weighing down the tuft of fur that sat on his chest, a reminder of his animalistic nature when so much of his torso was otherwise nearly human.

“I never thought I’d see you like this,” you whispered as you swam closer.

“How so?” Alastor’s hands twitched in the water, claws causing small whirlpools above the surface. It almost looked like he wanted to reach out for you.

“Relaxed.” You ran your eyes over him, once again taking in the way he was nearly bare in front of you. “You can touch me, you know?”

“Can I?” Alastor’s ear, damp from your splashing, twitched, sending a drop of water down into the pool. “I don’t want to overstep.”

He was such a gentleman. It was almost painful and yet enduring. It made you feel so seen, cherished, respected. Of all the people you had ever been with, none had hesitated to touch you.

You swam up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep yourself above water. His breath hitched as your chest pressed into his, stomach sliding against his as your legs settled, one between his.

“It’s okay.” You ran your fingers through his damp hair, watching the way he melted ever just so under your touches. “I won’t break.”

“It’s been… a while,” Alastor admitted. “I don’t wish to chase you off, to push you too fast. I find I’m rather unsure of the speed courting moves nowadays.”

“It moves however fast we want it too,” you whispered, pushing your body into his more, telling yourself that you were right- courting was dating. It also wasn’t, it was something somehow more. “If I want you to touch me and you want to touch me, you won’t break me by touching me.”

“You wish for me to touch you?” Alastor asked.

“If you want to.” Your body brushed against his in the water. “Then I want you to.”

Alastor’s hands settled on your hips, claws poking at the soft skin as he held your hips close to his body. You wanted him; you realized. The desire for Alastor, his company, his kindness, his power, his body- it snuck up on you. He had snuck up on you, finding himself tucked into your heart before you had even been aware of it.

Could it become love? You thought so. He was a man you could easily love, now that his attention was turned on you.

“Is there anything you do not wish for me to do?” Alastor asked, his hips brushed against yours. “Anything that is too far, too fast?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, eyes darting down to his smile as his hand smoothed over the small of your back, inching higher with each pass.

“I’m surprised you got in the pool with me.” Your thigh ran along the outside of his as you almost straddled his thigh as you ran a hand over his shoulder and down his chest, fingers caressing his sharp collar bone. “I thought you wouldn’t want to risk someone seeing you like this.”

“There is no risk,” Alastor’s smile grew softer, “I put a shield up the moment you disrobed. I wanted to protect your modesty and give us privacy for our first date.”

“Our first date,” you giggled as you ran the heel of your foot down the back of his calf. “Is a lovely one.”

“I’m glad you find it so.”

“Are you going to kiss me?” you whispered, heel smoothing down the fur that grew on his lower calf, leading the way to the transition to deer hoofs.

“Would you like me to?” Alastor teased, fingers twitching between your shoulder blades.

“Would you like to?” you challenged back, not knowing how far you could push him or what it would get you.

“I think that’s a lovely place to start,” Alastor’s voice was deep, thick as he drew you closer.

“Then let’s get started.” You felt a rush as the words left your lips, sounding far more confident in what was between you and Alastor than you actually were.

His lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss. Timid caresses of lips grew, morphed into something more confident as the first kiss became the second. It felt like it took nothing more than a few heartbeats for Alastor to have himself pressed against you.

His fingers twitched, running over the clasp of your bra as his lips met yours again and again. You pressed your pelvis into his, sighing as you felt him stir to life slightly in his boxers.

It had been so long since you felt desired and yet, the way Alastor’s lips left yours, trailing along your jaw and neck combined with the feeling of his fingers digging into your hip, made you feel like the woman you had once been.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Alastor’s fingers twitched over the clasp of your bra again. Your heart thrashed against your ribs as you waited to see what he was going to do. Waiting and hoping.

His lips ghosted over your shoulder as the band around your ribs gave way, falling slack. The only thing that kept your bra from floating away from your chest was how it was pinned between your bodies.

“Is this alright?” Alastor asked, fingers urging the shoulder strap to fall down your arm.

“It is,” you smiled as he let you float away from him.

The bra floated to the surface again as you worked your arms out of the straps. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you floated just outside of Alastor’s reach. His eyes ran over you, taking in the swells of your breasts below the water. The cool water had your nipples pulled into tight pebbles.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Alastor murmured as he encircled you in his arms again, crashing your breasts against his chest.

“No,” you answered honestly.

“Then I shall strive to do so as often as I may,” Alastor’s lips found yours again, hands running along your sides. There was a fire in the kiss this time. He groaned into your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The heat of your core pressed into him, teasing his stiffening cock with the promise of more.

“Will you?” You whimpered as he pressed your back into the sharp edge of the pool.

“For you,” Alastor promised, lifting you easily out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool, “I will fill the airwaves with proclamations of your beauty. Should you ever forget, you’ll need but only to turn on the radio.”

“Oh,” you sighed as Alastor’s fingers snagged under the band of your panties, tugging them slightly lower. He waited for you to protest, looking up at you for some sort of sign. You lifted your hips instead, smiling down at him. The wet lace slipped down your hips, cast aside to float in the water with your bra.

“Magnificent,” Alastor purred, planting his palms on either side of your hips, pushing himself out of the water.

“Not really.” Your protests, weak though they were, were cut off by his lips pressing into yours again. Alastor’s wet torso slipped between your knees as he pulled your naked body to him.

“Yes, really.” He kept you held to him as he pulled himself out of the water. The wet fabric of his underwear clung to him, highlighting every curve of what little of him remained covered, including the hardness of his cock. “May I taste you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, not daring to believe he meant what he said in the way you hoped he did. Your… whatever courting made him was a cannibal, you knew that. Surely that was the sort of taste he meant.

He leaned your back against the hard ground, spreading your legs and wasted no time delving in. He was greedy with his desire, legs spread out behind him. He hooked your legs over his shoulders as pushed forward, spreading you.

You didn’t know what to expect from your first outing with Alastor as your boyfriend maybe, but on the list of possibilities you hadn’t listed being spread out, naked, poolside and moaning his name while his tongue sank deeper into your opening.

There were many things you were learning about Alastor. You learned he was a thoughtful partner. You learned he was a talented kisser. You were in the process of receiving a lesson on how talented he was with other things as your back arched, nipples pointing skyward as you gasped and moaned.

He sank a finger into your fluttering opening, weeping and begging to be filled as you cried his name out again and again. It was forward, so unlike the man who asked you to court him and yet so magically right as he curled his finger again and again, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body as the pool water dried on your skin.

“Ah, ah, Al-Alast-” Your body clamped down around him, spilling more slick that he eagerly drank up. How many had he pulled from you? Two? Three? Your body sagged as the waves of pleasure passed, leaving overstimulation to send bolts of pleasure through your body.

“Cher,” Alastor looked up your body, taking in the way your breasts moved with each having breath, “I fear I got carried away. I forgot we’re here to swim, not feast. Do forgive me.”

Your limbs were noodles as he scooped you up into his arms. You clung to him, body pressing against his as he carried you into the pool, each step down the stairs sinking the both of your bodies deeper into the cold water.

“It’s cold,” you whined, spent body sensitive as he moved you deeper and deeper.

“I’ll keep you warm.” His lips crashed into yours as he pressed you into the cold tile. The heat of your bodies mixed, warming the water around you as you drank the taste of your slick from his lips.

“You will?” You worked your sensitive cunt over his bulge as you clung to him. This was far more than you would have expected or a first date, but his touches left you wanting more.

The typically proper and restrained demon was quickly becoming your favorite drug.

Your legs worked his underwear down, pushing them lower and lower until his hand left your hip and took control, casting them off to float off into the water.

“Are you sure?” Alastor asked as you eagerly ground your cunt against his cock.

“Please,” you whimpered, eager for the feel of him stretching your walls around him.

“It’s not too much?” Alastor asked as the head of his cock nestled against your twitching opening.

“Please,” groaned as he let your body sink down, the head of his cock pushing past your slick opening. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to go insane.”

“Oh,” Alastor groaned, guiding your body lower and lower as you moaned, head thrown back. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

Your oversensitive sex burned as he stretched you, the pool water offering little in the way of lubricant while washing away what you had produced yourself. All you could feel was him as black swam around the edges of your vision.

“You must breathe,” Alastor whispered as he bottomed out inside you.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until that moment. Gasping for air, you struggled, clinging to him as he pushed his body into yours tighter.

“Oh, that is rather unexpected,” Alastor moaned, the flowing water from the vent ghosting past your ass and blowing directly against his balls.

Each thrust into you splashed water up around your bodies, ensuring your chest never stopped glittering in the dim light. You clung to him, moaning his name as his cock nudged every sensitive pocket of nerves in your body. The fur at the base of his cock brushed against your clit, ensuring you could hardly breathe.

“Oh, shit.” You dug your fingers into the neat short hair at the back of his head as he thrust into you again and again, water slowing his pace. “Fuck, Alastor.”

“You are,” he moaned in your ear as your over sensitive cunt clutched his cock, trying to suck him deeper.

“You’re so, fuck, so big.” He chucked as you struggled to put words together, speared on his cock. “I’m so close, fuck. How am I close again?”

“Because I’m that good,” Alastor teased, teeth nipping your lips as he closed his eyes, allowing the warm heat of your cunt to wash over him. The vent caressed his balls, each thrust into you being met with the soft brushes. “I’m sorry, Cher, I’m not going to last as long as you deserve.”

“Fuck,” you moaned as his cock swelled and twitched inside you. “Fuck, Alastor.”

He kissed you, eager to swallow your moans as he pushed into your body again and again. Each time he bottomed out, he felt your walls contract around him, begging for him to give into the pleasure. A deep groan reverberated through Alastor’s chest, running from his throat into you as he kissed you.

You came hard, body finding the strength to grip his cock like a vice. Your head fell back, a trail of saliva connecting your lips as you cried out, repeating his name as if it was the very key to your salvation.

Alastor’s lips hit your neck as he bit down, his own orgasm being ripped from him by the force of your own. Coppery blood filled his mouth as he drank from you. He moaned, swallowing part of you into his body as he shot a part of himself deep inside your core.

He swallowed with each wave of pleasure, pouring and drinking as you clung to him, moaning with every soft thrust until he slowed to a throbbing stop.

“I seem to have gotten carried away once again.” Alastor spoke, breathing heavily as his body stilled, cock keeping his seed from spilling out into the pool water. He licked the blood from his lips before he looked up at you again. “You seem to sweep me away.”

“Oh,” you chuckled weakly, held above water by the arms wrapped around you. “I don’t think I mind.”

“Good,” Alastor chuckled, kissing you again as his softening cock twitched inside you.

If this was what dates with Alastor would be like, you hoped to have many more.

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