#i'm still trying to keep my descriptions down to a few lines

[pintobug]

maintenance

dbf!joel miller x female reader

chapter 7: who’s still standing when the smoke clears?

rating: 18+ MDNI

masterlist

summary: first day back at the diner & a flat tire? joel can make it better.

word count: 5.5k

tags: internal conflict, mentions of anxiety/OCD, mild angst?, little bit of fluff, very transitional chapter im sorry lol, age gap, reader is 23, joel is 46.

a/n: got myself back on schedule. have the next few chapter outlined and i’m excited to write them. thank you all for being beyond patient. <3 also- i've tried to make my writing of reader to be as neutral as possible besides the mention of a little bit of hair length. but if theres ever a sentence of time where you guys think i'm possibly too descriptive of the reader, please point it out!!! i literally just think of myself when writing and have found myself mentioning that readers face turns red when embarrassed while that isn't true for all skin tones. so as i've caught it i've tried to change it to things like 'you feel your face warm' instead. if theres anything i'm overlooking please do not shy away from calling me out! the next chapter will be fun you guys i promise

You did not expect your first day back at Riverside Diner to be so fucking horrendous. It started with two people calling out. Not too bad, but that was just the beginning. Frank was ticked off, but he picked up some tables here and there to take some of the pressure off of you and the other servers. You were nearing the end of your shift, beyond thrilled to go home, get clean and settle down. You’re proud of the way you handled it- just being thrown into the pits of hell like you haven’t missed a day. Bill even tossed some french fries in a paper boat your way, his silent way of thanking you.

You pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen to look for Frank in the dining room. You locked eyes with him immediately and knew something was wrong. His eyebrows were all pinched up, eyes wide enough to see the whites clear as day and that forced a little too wide smile of his. Frank is moving quickly between the aisles of booths and nodding frantically at the new tables. Your shoulders dropped, the lead weight in your chest pulling them down. You have a feeling you won’t be able to leave right now.

“Hey, sugar.” Frank says with pleading eyes and a sickeningly sweet tone.

You inhale deeply and nod your head, knowing exactly what he’s asking for.

“Need me to stay a little longer?” Deep down you hope he says no.

He nods his head.

“Overheard a few of the tables talking about the arena on campus. I guess there's a band playing- I don’t know. But I need hands, hun. I cut Michelle ten minutes ago. It’s just us.” He wears a pained expression on his face while admitting that last part.

You can’t leave him. You exhale while scanning the dining room, the bell on the door indicating that new customers are filing in is relentless. Slowly but surely table after table filled up, then it was the bar stools and no one was able to flip tables quick enough to keep the line out the door under control. Double sat, triple sat and before you know it there's six tables that don’t have drinks yet. You can’t even think about the bar yet.

“Excuse me!”

You can’t even tell which table it’s from.

Your forced smile is fading and tunnel vision sets in. Frank checks in with you here and there by patting his hand on your back while passing by. He’s running around you, weaving through customers trying to lessen the load. Trays of drinks going out quickly. You’re sure you forgot to put syrup on one of the tables but you can’t remember which. Tightness in your chest reminds you to breathe.

“Come on.. Not now.” You mutter to yourself while repeatedly jamming your finger into the service computer.

It locks up and freezes every now and then but you didn’t have the time for it right now. You’re only halfway through putting the damn order in when it seizes up. You close your eyes and bite back a groan. You can hear the kitchen scrambling, Bill barking out dishes, ticket numbers and tables that he’s still waiting for one more thing. Your throat feels tight. You’re wasting time standing here and just waiting for the stupid fucking computer to pick back up. You slam your guest check down onto the counter and make a round of the tables.

“Can I have a refill?”

You have to double back to grab the cup which wasn’t even empty. It sloshed as you gripped it up and spilled onto your forearm. You cursed under your breath and quickly turned away. Before you dropped that drink off another table stopped you.

“Hi, how much longer for our food?”

Words to the tune of: ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ are bubbling at the back of your throat. You bite them back and force a toothy grin.

“I’ll check.” You feign kindness.

Quickly you drop off the refill and practically run into the kitchen and past the swinging doors. The first thing you notice is the constant mechanical whirr of the ticket printer spitting out the papers non stop. Bill keeps this a well oiled machine but even now there's tickets hanging from the printer that haven’t been looked at yet, bodies darting from station to station- plating, wiping, topping and serving it through the pass. Bill whistles to you and gestures to the plates he set on a large serving tray.

“Booth ten.” He says, scrapping the ticket and piercing it on the pin.

You grab the large tray mindlessly and head back out into the dining room.

Ten. Ten. Booth ten. Ten.

You’re bobbing through people standing in the walkways, your ‘excuse me’s falling on deaf ears.

“Can I have another straw?” “I think I ordered…” “Are there more napkins?” “…An extra side of bacon.”

You don’t even know which direction the voices are coming from at this point. Somehow you make it there in one piece and don’t even remember setting the food down.

“Can we have syrup?” “And some more napkins.” “If you have any hot sauce, we’d love it if you could bring some out!”

Fuck, you knew you forgot the syrup. By the time you grab the bottle you forget what table even asked for it. You chewed nervously on your lower lip while almost jogging up and down the rows of tables before finally- no syrup in this booth. You set it down, apologize and scurry back to the kitchen before they have the chance to get a word in.

The computer. Holy shit you forgot about the fucking computer. You still didn’t finish putting that order in. You try to now show your pure panic on your face while making your way back to the system. You whine quietly, bouncing on your feet impatiently as you wait for the screen to wake up. It takes a few seconds longer than usual but it’s up. All the air leaves your lungs in a long exhale. Quickly, you enter the order that was forgotten about. Double check it and send it.

You’re running on fumes. Your hands are sticky from syrup and drinks splashed up your arms and your apron is covered in crumbs and smeared whipped cream. Your sweat is sticking to your temples and you’re sure you’ve sweat off half your makeup. There's an ache in the soles of your feet and your lower back and your palms and your bladder- you really need to fucking pee.

The bar. How could you forget about the bar? You quickly make your way behind it and check in with each and every customer sitting there. You turn around and refill, turn again and set it back down. You’re grabbing ketchup, cream, sugars, tabasco, syrup, butter squares, silverware and anything else you could think of- they’re asking for it. The sweat is visible running down your temples, beading under your eyes and the top of your lip.

It goes on for so long. So, so long. Frank trying to keep up with tables, Bill trying to keep up with the kitchen and you trying to keep up with survival right now. But there is a turning point. A light at the end of the tunnel where you’re printing more checks than you’re creating. The bell on the front door no longer signals patrons coming in, but going out. You’re actually able to clean a table off here and there.

It ends. Eventually. You don’t know how it ends but it fucking ends. Hours later. Hours after you were supposed to be home and in bed. When the last customer exits Frank quickly locks the door behind them and takes a moment to lean against the door.

“Holy shit.” Is all he says.

You finally get to pee before starting the break down. Your head is buzzing while clearing tables, thoughts on loop of how exhausted you are and how gross all of these tables are.

“Don’t do any silverware. Just.. We just need to get this place looking like a bomb didn’t go off, hun.” He speaks slowly, clearly exhausted while beginning to sweep the floors. You just finished cleaning the last table when Frank lets you go. He shushes you when you tell him you can still help but he thanks you and pulls you into a hug before sending you on your way.

You made it to your car twenty minutes ago but you just couldn’t muster up the courage to start it. The center of your steering wheel is at the focus of your stare the entire time. Grateful doesn’t even begin to explain your feelings towards sleeping in a little more earlier today. You didn’t have enough time to walk, so you took your car. If you had to walk home after all of that you might have lost it.

Empty. Drained. Fatigued.

All accurate words to describe you right now.

In time you manage to start the car then slowly pull out of the spot and start heading home. You turned into the street and stopped at the red light once you reached it. Sighing, you peered over to your phone that's sitting in the passenger seat. There's a few texts from Ellie. That’s it. You’ll see her soon so you don’t need to answer her right now. There's a soft pull in your chest. You were hoping to see a text from Joel, if you were honest with yourself. Something to pick you up after the shit show you encountered.

The light turns green.

You slowly turn the wheel to the right and let up off of the brake and-

POP! Pfffffffffft.

You jump at the loud noise and slam your foot into the break just as your car slowly begins to tilt. You look around frantically with wide eyes.

“Fuck.” You whispered, peeking out into the street.

You gently pushed your foot into the gas, trying to pull to the side and you heard the crunch of glass under your flattened tire.

“Fuck.” You say again but sharper this time.

You quickly throw the car into park and fling the door open, legs moving quickly while rounding the hood of the car and-

There it is.

The flaccid rubber of the passenger side tire.

You refuse to believe it. Theres absolutely no fucking way you popped a tire after the day you just had. The universe has to be playing some sort of sick joke.

You’re mouth hangs open. Flat. Throat is dry. Buzzing fills your ears and tears sting your eyes and your fingers start to numb and your chest is tight and the dizziness starts to creep in and now your face is wet from tears you don’t even have to push out. A broken sob leaves your lips. You pat your hands down your jeans and your pockets are empty. There’s fucking syrup everywhere and the sweet smell on your hands is starting to turn your stomach.

Nauseous. Dirty.

You throw open the passenger door and scramble for your phone with trembling fingers. Everything is blurry through the stinging in your eyes but you find your phone and swipe through it maniacally. You don’t even know what you’re doing all you can feel is lead in your chest and in your stomach and pins and needles in your arms and running down your fingertips and-

“Another late night call?”

The sound of his voice makes you cry harder.

“Woah- What's wrong?” His voice is taught and frantic, that slow sultry drawl now thrown out the window.

You choke out his name.

“Where are you?”

You’re babbling and making no sense. Sore. Your eyes are sore and your throat is sore and your nose starts to run.

“Baby, please tell me where you are?”

You hear keys over the line. You’re rubbing your eyes to regain some sight through tears and running makeup while choking out the closest street sign you can make out and that you think there's a coffee shop behind you. You’re stuttering, every word that passes your lips pulls any lasting energy in your body. Hands are so numb you can’t hold the weight of your phone anymore and it bounces back onto the passenger seat while you sob uncontrollably. Raw and broken and loud.

Crumbling onto the curb, you try to soothe yourself by wrapping your arms around your knees. But you’re sticky. And dirty. Your chest is heaving with breaths ripping through your esophagus. There’s nowhere you can go to wash off and you’re all alone with the walls closing in despite being outside, crying too fucking hard to see your hands right in front of your face.

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. It could be seconds, minutes, or even closer to hours. It’s all melting into one. Continuous sobs while your hands paw at your face in a useless attempt to dry it from tears.

You hear his voice in the distance all muffled and broken up between your sobs. The usual roar of his truck engine is just barely there. A sharp pain in your lungs prevents you from taking a full breath. All the muscles are constricting around your chest. You can’t take a deep breath and your eyes are fluttering while the ringing in your ears takes over everything, deaf to any other sound.

If you thought your throat was raw before, you were sorely mistaken. Every breath hurts. Ripping in and out of your esophagus that's heating up from all the irritation to the point where you’d believe it if you coughed up blood.

Two strong hands settling at your shoulders drags you to a somewhat conscious state. Your face is hot, head throbbing from all of the blood whooshing around. You’re hunched over and shaking. The hands. Strong hands. You feel them gently on your cheeks, tilting your head up. You hear your name over the all familiar crashing waves.

Joel is on the verge of panicking himself. His large hands are enveloping the side of your head that's slick with tears and sweat and who knows what else. His calloused thumbs are swiping at the tears but it’s no use. They keep rolling. Joel catches a glimpse of what should be the whites of your eyes- all red and irritated now with puffy lids. Your lips are swollen and red. He can’t tell what is tears, spit, snot or sweat but he doesn’t care. He just needs to make sure you’re okay.

He’s feverishly scanning your body over and over and over again. No wounds. No injuries. That he can see at least. His stomach turns, nursing his own bout of anxiety but anger bubbles over that as the worst comes to his mind.

Did someone hurt you? Did someone fucking hurt you and leave you here?

He can’t spend time seething over the possibility while you’re hysterical in front of him. He needs to reel you in. He starts by whispering your name but it’s overshadowed by your cries and gasps for breath. He repeats it but can see the disconnect. You’re looking through him right now. Not at him. He’s talking but you’re not hearing.

He does the only thing he thinks he could and pulls you into his chest there on the curb with his knees digging into the asphalt. Joel soothes a hand down your back repeatedly and whispers into your ear. He’s talking aimlessly about anything that comes to mind. But it starts to cut through.

He pulls you from his chest after some time and takes another look at you. This time you’re looking at him. Really looking. Pupils dilated. His heart throbs heavily. Seeing you like this makes him sick but he doesn’t dwell on it. He knows he needs to be a rock for you right now and he wouldn’t want to do anything else. All caution is out the window. Joel doesn’t care if anyone sees him consoling a ‘client’ at this time of night. The word leaves a bad taste in his mouth. You’re no damn client to him, no matter how badly he tries to convince himself.

He thinks about you a lot. He tries to control himself, he swears he really does but it’s to no avail. He tries not to contact you the second he opens his eyes and it’s getting painful. He doesn’t have an easy time trying to process these emotions. Forget explaining them. He’s not good with words despite how well he can talk you through it. Joel likes to think his actions speak for themselves.

They do.

The waves begin to settle and the gravel of his voice takes over.

“Shhh, s’okay sweetheart.”

“Gonna need to try and calm down f’me, now.”

“I’ve gotcha, darlin’.”

Your voice is frail and cracking.

“M-My tire.. I’m dirty.” You sputter out through a coughing fit and quieting sobs.

He can just barely make out what you’re saying through your gasps for breath and coughing.

“Are you hurt? Did somebody hurt you?” His voice is soft and unwavering with fear in his eyes.

“No!” You choke out and sob into his hands that linger at your face.

You don’t mean to raise your voice at him but he doesn’t mind. You bring your hands to cover your face but instead they clamp over his hands that cradle your face. He pulls you closer into him, feeling the sticky syrup grab onto his shirt and frowns. It doesn’t bother him really but he knows it's upsetting you.

“C’mon baby, look at me.” Joel tries to coax you through your heavy breathing but you don’t listen.

Slowly he pulls his hands from your face and finds your eyes again. Joel takes both of your hands in one of his and presses it to his chest. He takes slow, calculated breaths that force his chest to expand and collapse.

“Breathe with me darlin’.” He whispers

You tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest but it was hard. Joel reeled you back in with a squeeze of your hands. You can feel the soft thud behind his chest. Steady and strong. You flatten your one palm there and try to focus. Rise and fall and thud. He’s here and he’s real and you can feel him.

You suck in a slower breath through a tight jaw, attempting to match him. It’s broken and shaking but it’s slower. Joel nods his head encouragingly and continues to exaggerate his slow, deep breaths.

You’re almost matching his pace now, your own heart no longer thumping in the base of your throat. Tears are slowing to a drip down your cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” Joel speaks up eventually.

“No.” Your voice is hoarse.

“Why are you out here all alone, sweetheart?”

“Tire.”

He looks over his shoulder at it and then back to you.

“Did something happen before that?”

“Work.” You have no energy to give anything more than that flat, one worded answer.

You can’t force anymore and Joel knows that, so he doesn’t push. He lets you sit quietly against him for some time.

Eventually Joel taps you and pulls you up with him while holding you steady.

“C’mon with me.” He whispers and walks you over to his truck that's pulled in front of your car.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walk next to him. Joel lowers the tailgate of his truck and turns to you then picks you up like it’s nothing and sets you onto the edge with your legs dangling off. He stands between your knees with hands at your shoulders, steadying you.

“I’ll be right back.” He mutters and leaves you to dig in the cabin of his truck.

You’re slouched over with the weight of the world on your back and your arms collapsed into your lap. You sniff and rub your wet nose with the back of your arm and let it collapse again. Joel returns shortly with a bottle of water with the cap already removed.

“I always got some in the back seat.” He says casually while gesturing it towards you.

You blink at it a few times then look at Joel before slowly taking the water bottle into your shaky hand and bringing it to your lips. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead while you take small sips. Then another. And another. And the last one lingers for a long time. The water hurts going down your throat, still swollen and raw from your cries but it will help.

“You tell me if you need somethin’. M’gonna fix that up for you.” He says while giving your thigh a gentle pat and a squeeze.

You don’t respond or react but look at him with wet and irritated dyes. You watch him walk over to your car and ponder for a moment with his hands at his hips and one knee cocked out. He rifles through your trunk before coming out with the car jack. He slips it under the car and starts cranking it up.

Joel works quietly and doesn’t say anything to you while he’s working but he does look at you maybe every ten seconds just to make sure you’re still there and breathing. Maybe to make sure you’re not going off the deep end again. Joel has noticed small comments over the past few weeks but he has never pressed you on anything you haven’t come outright and told him about. But he makes a note in his head to press you about this. Not right now. Or any time tonight. But he will. Joel doesn’t know if he’s helping you and it makes him feel uneasy. Could he be making this worse for you? His only saving grace is that you’re no longer screaming and crying. He replaces your flat tire with the spare in your trunk in record time.

“Still got it, huh?” He jokes lightly.

It’s exactly what he said after moving your dresser into your room and it makes your heart heavy. You remember how you responded all those weeks ago but you do not have the energy to do it now. It doesn’t look like he minds. Without another word he helps you off of the tailgate and sets you back on your wobbling feet. Joel walks with you around his truck to the passenger side and opens the door for you. You grab onto his shoulder while climbing in.

“Stay here.” He says.

You listen, no desire to move in the slightest. The rumble of your car's engine startles you and you whip your head to the side. Joel slowly rolls your car against the side of the road, lining it up before shutting it off again. Guilt pangs in your stomach. Moments later he returns with your phone, bag and keys. He reaches over you to set them all on the center console and lets his hand rest on your knee.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out.

He tuts quietly and shakes his head. Hus pressed into the side of the car, knees pressed into the running board and arm slung over your thighs. His other hand brushes some hair from your face while he whispers to you.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. When I told you to call me next time you needed me, I meant that. M’proud of you for rememberin’.”

You open your mouth to blubber out another apology but he cuts you off with a simple kiss. It’s sweet. Gentle and warm against your face that feels like an open wound. You barely return the kiss but not because you don’t want to, you simply don’t have the energy to. He pulls back from the kiss and just stays close. Your eyes bore into his, almost ready to cry again from how sweet and gentle he’s being despite not knowing what the fuck is going on.

“Moved your car into an actual spot so you won’t get a ticket. I’ll take you back here tomorrow morning, alright sweetheart?” He hums.

You slowly nod.

“Can I take you home?”

You nod again before Joel buckles you into the seat and gently closes the door. He rounds the hood of the truck and hops in the driver's seat. His hand makes immediate contact with your knee, heavy and comforting as he drives away. The ride is silent other than Joel triple checking if you’re okay. And to remind you to drink water. A few more squeezes of your knee and you’re sitting outside of your house.

Ellie’s room light is on. Fuck.

“She home?” Joel questions while lowering his head to look at what you’re looking at.

“She is,” You say quietly with eyes lingering on the window. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Joel turns the key and the engine rumbles before stopping. He didn’t question your request.

“Can you wait here? I can sneak you in.” You say while unbuckling your belt.

“Sneak? Why do you have to sneak me in?” He asks with saddled brows.

“You want Ellie to see you bringing me home this late? You didn’t even want the neighbors to see you coming over without a toolbox in your hand.” It sounds more harsh than you mean it.

It makes Joel’s chest tighten but he doesn’t comment because it’s true. He did say something to that effect. He regrets it. But he’d be silly to deny the excitement he gets from sneaking around like a teenage boy again.

“Stay here?” You look over your shoulder at Joel.

“You sure you’re okay to go in by yourself?”

“Just for a second. I’ll be okay.” Your voice keeps its soft, hushed tone.

Joel nods and watches you exit the truck, walk to the front door and disappear.

You sigh the second you enter your house, a comforting and familiar space feels better than the sidewalk at midnight. You hang your bag on the hook and slowly wall up the stairs to Ellie’s room.

“Ellie?” You call out quietly with a hand on her door knob.

Slowly, you push the cracked door open while the door squeaks and you silently curse yourself. No answer. She’s laying on her belly, game controller in hand, slipping off the bed. Face smushed into the comforter she’d sprawled on top of. You blink a few times and shake your head. She had to have fallen asleep in the middle of a game, the monitor still had a game lobby up with quiet music playing on a loop. You sigh quietly and back out of the room, quietly clicking the door shut.

You turn and make your way down the steps again and open the front door. Joel is still sitting in his truck across the street from your house. You wave for him to come in and wait for him to get up to the doorway. You lock the door behind him and gesture him up the steps while ‘shhhhsh’ing him when he takes a step that creaks too loud.

“She’s asleep,” You whisper once the two of you make it into your room. “and I really need to shower. But feel free to make yourself comfortable here.”

You look around your room with Joel in it. It’s surreal.

“Let me come in with you.” He says softly while taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t speak for a moment, surprised at his comment.

“Come in with me?” You repeat his words back to him.

He chuckles quietly and nods his head.

“Yeah, come in with you.” He repeats again in a lighthearted tone.

So, you shower together. The water was warm enough to create steam that fogged the mirror as it billowed out from behind the curtain. Joel steps in first and makes sure the water feels right before taking your hand and guiding you under the stream. It feels normal. You don’t stop to think about being fully nude in front of him for the first time because he doesn’t make it feel like you should. He’s soft and gentle, no lingering stares anywhere but your face and his hands massaging shampoo into your hair. Joel cradles your head and tilts it under the water to let it wash away the suds then brings you out of the stream to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He’s doing all of the work for you, sudsing the soap between his hands and the washcloth and softly scrubbing it over your arms to get rid of any sticky syrupy patches. You want to stay like this forever.

With his hand, Joel pushes his hair away from his face, now shades darker from the water and slicked back. Brown eyes blinking the water away under heavy lids. A pang of guilt hits you low in your stomach for the second time. You don’t even know what time it was when you called him. He has to be exhausted but here he is in the shower, washing your strawberry scented soap off of your skin.

“Feelin’ alright?” He says just loud enough over the patter of water.

“I’m alright.” You nod your head slowly.

He turns you around a few times in the water making sure there's no more suds latched onto your skin before reaching around and turning the water off. You wrap your arms around your chest and stand there with water rolling down your legs while Joel reaches for one of the towels hanging up. He helps you out and wraps the warm towel around your shoulders. You pull it tighter around yourself while Joel reaches for a second towel and wraps it around his waist. He reaches out and settles a hand on the door knob.

“Wait-” You blurt out and he turns his head back to you, not moving a muscle.

“Let me check and make sure she’s still asleep.” You whisper.

Joel nods and stands to the side. You slowly turn the knob and push the door open, peeking out to confirm that the coast is clear. You open it and gesture Joel out, his arms filled with the clothing the two of you were previously in.

“I’ll be in there in a minute.”

He nods his head and presses a soft kiss to your lips before you watch him disappear into your bedroom. You take a deep breath and sigh while turning to face the mirror hanging on the wall. There's still some stubborn mascara under your eye. You fasten the towel under your arms and start to spot clean with a cotton pad. Moments later you’ve got a clean face, brushed teeth and you’re about to finish detangling your hair when a soft knock rasps at the door. You pause and turn towards it, cracking it open.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you’re greeting with Ellie’s drowsy face. You’re grateful her eyes are barely open because she can’t question the pure shock on your face when you see her.

“Y’got home so late.” She mumbles while rubbing her eyes.

“I know. I promise I’ll fill you in tomorrow but go back to bed. Your eyes aren’t even open, Ellie.”

“Gotta pee.” She says with eyes still squinted.

“Shit, sorry.” You cringe and slip out of the bathroom.

“Goodnight.” Ellie grumbles.

“Night, Ellie.” You whisper while slipping into your bedroom.

You slowly click the door closed and turn around, pressing your back into the door and sighing heavily.

“Looks like you seen a ghost, darlin’.” His low voice breaks the anxiety building in your stomach.

You force a breathy laugh and lift your head to look at him. God, it takes all of the air out of your lungs. His hair is no longer soaked, it’s damp and starting to curl at the ends like it normally does. His tanned torso is exposed with hair littering his chest with a fine line down his soft stomach while it disappears under the band of his boxers. His sweatpants hung so low on his hips you could see said band before the elastic of his pants just under it. That was it. Joel Miller, damp in your bedroom. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

It reminds you of the night of the storm. When he surprised you at your front door, soaked to the bone. The only difference is, this Joel just helped you through a panicked episode without a shred of knowledge of them, washed you off and showered you clean and this Joel helps you get dressed, too. He helps you pull on a shirt over your head and he makes sure none of your hair is caught in the collar of it. He holds out his arm to balance you while you’re slipping on a pair of your shorts. This Joel lays in bed next to you under your comforters with your back pressed firmly into his chest and his strong arm draped over your waist.

You like this Joel, too.

[vingtetunmars]

Steady Now...

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: A quiet crush. A stolen glance. In the peaceful lull between seasons, you — Jackson’s gentle, sharp-witted stable handler — find yourself growing closer to Joel Miller. He’s gruff, older, and carries the weight of a broken world, but something about him pulls you in.

Part 2

Tags: NSFW, smut(18+), mutual pining, hesitant Joel, age differences (reader is in late 20s, Joel is 56-57), set between season 1 and 2, Jackson!Joel Miller, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yall), "i'm old." "i dont care.", no physical description of reader. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hey, I'm back with another one. This fic is basically just my fav tropes for joel. Hope you guys enjoy this one. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 7k

masterlist

You'd wake up before the sun most days.

There’s a comfort in the quiet, before boots start crunching on snow-packed roads and kids race down the street toward the mess hall. The stables were still, save for the soft grunts and stomps of the horses inside. You’ve always liked mornings best — when your breath fogs the air and the world feels like it’s just for you and the animals.

Jackson has its rhythm, and by now, you’ve settled into it like a hand in a well-worn glove.

You'd muck stalls first, throw feed into troughs, and check hooves. Sometimes Shimmer tries to nose into the grain early and you gently swat her away, muttering something soft under your breath. She’s a smart one. Too smart, really. Jesse said the two of you are alike — calm on the outside, chaos underneath. You’d argued that you weren’t that dramatic, and he just grinned, the cocky little shit.

Most afternoons, a few of the younger kids tumbled into the stables for their riding lessons. It’s become something of a ritual. You'd make them brush the horses first — “no shortcuts,” you always say — and they groan and roll their eyes but they do it anyway. You kept them in line with firm kindness. You weren't a pushover, and they know it. That’s why they trust you.

Dina’s got a natural seat. You told her that once, and her whole face lit up. Kat’s a little more cautious, her grip too tight, but you know she’ll grow out of it. Jesse mostly comes by to not help, but he always carries water buckets without being asked, so you let him hang around. They're good kids. In a world like this, that still feels miraculous.

Tommy stops by sometimes, checking on the horses, asking if you’ve had any trouble. He likes to walk the stalls with you, swapping stories from his patrols. You weren’t dumb — you know part of it is because Maria told him to keep an eye on things. But the other part is just Tommy being Tommy. He’s got that older brother energy, steady and protective in a way that’s comforting without smothering.

You’re one of the few people he really talks to. He’s told you things you suspect he hasn’t even told Maria. Not secrets, exactly — just things that linger in the bones. Memories. Regrets. The kind of things you’d only say aloud when your hands are busy and your heart feels safe.

Lately, though, there had been someone else lingering at the edge of your days.

Joel Miller.

He came back quiet. Grim-faced. Walked into Jackson like a man trying not to be noticed, even as the entire town noticed anyway. You know of him — everyone does. Tommy’s brother. The man who crossed the country and lived to tell about it. The one with the girl.

Ellie.

You liked her. She didn’t say much to you, not yet. There’s something sharp and watchful in her. Like she’s waiting for something to go wrong.

You understood that feeling.

As for Joel… well. You tried not to look too long. Not that it matters — he barely looks at you. Or anyone, really.

But you’d see him sometimes, walking Ellie to school, hauling lumber to help Tommy repair the walls, standing near the stables but never in them. His eyes always scan the horizon, like the fences aren’t real, like he was still out there somewhere, still waiting to be ambushed.

You thought about saying something — Hey. You like horses? Want to meet Shimmer? — but you don’t.

He was older. A lot older. And you know that’s not a crime, but it’s enough of a difference to keep your feelings folded up in your chest like a letter you’ll never send. You’ve got eyes, sure. You could admire a man who looks like he’s carved out of stone and gritted teeth, who spoke like every word has to be earned.

But admiration wasn't the same as invitation.

So you keep it to yourself. You let yourself glance when he walks by. You try not to linger.

And you get back to work.

Because horses need feeding, and kids need teaching, and life, somehow, goes on.

The wind carried a bite today. Not a storm, not yet, but the kind of chill that makes your fingers ache by noon.

You were brushing down one of the older horses, a sleepy gelding named Rusty, when the barn door creaks open. You didn’t look up right away. Not many people come this early — Tommy’s off on patrol, and the kids don’t roll in until after breakfast.

But then you heard the boots. Light. Hesitant.

“Hey,” a voice said. Dry, clipped. Still working out if it wants to stay or bolt.

You turn.

Ellie stands in the doorway with her hands shoved in her jacket pockets, shoulders tucked up like she’s trying to make herself smaller. Her eyes flick past you, scanning the stalls. She doesn’t meet your gaze right away.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, soft enough that she can ignore it if she wants. “You lost?”

Ellie snorts, barely. “Just wandering.”

You gesture with your chin. “You wander into barns often, or am I just lucky today?”

That earns a real reaction — the corner of her mouth pulls up. Brief. But it counts.

“I remember this place,” she said eventually. “From before.”

You nod. “Yeah. You came through with Joel, right? Didn’t stay long.”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Didn’t think we were gonna.” Then, quieter: “Guess plans change.”

You don’t ask. You could. You’ve heard whispers — that something went wrong in Salt Lake, that Joel came back different — but you weren’t the kind of person who digs at wounds. People talk enough already.

Instead, you lean against the stall, brushing slow circles into Rusty’s shoulder. “You wanna come in?”

Ellie hesitated. Then stepped fully inside, letting the door close behind her. The barn muffled the wind. Inside, it was warm and smells like hay and leather and something sweet under the surface.

“I used to help out,” she said, voice cautious. “At the stables. Back in the QZ. Not like this — just feeding and mucking. One time a horse bit this guy named Max and he cried like a baby. I was ten. It was hilarious.”

You smiled. “Yeah, horses’ll do that. They don’t care how tough you think you are.”

Ellie drifted closer to the stall, eyes on Rusty now. You watched the tension start to bleed from her shoulders. A little. Not all the way, but enough that she doesn’t look like she’s about to bolt anymore.

“He seems nice,” she murmured.

“He’s a grumpy old man,” you said, scratching behind Rusty’s ear. “But we love him anyway.”

You glance at her then. Her brow lifted, barely — like she’s trying not to smile again.

“You like animals?” you asked.

Ellie shrugged. “Guess so.”

Another pause. Then she asked, “Does it ever get… easier?”

You blinked. “The horses?”

She shook her head. “Jackson. Staying in one place. Pretending things are normal.”

That quiets you.

You leaned against the stall door, looking past her, toward the snow-dusted trees just visible through the slats.

“I don’t know if it ever feels normal,” you admitted. “But it gets less… loud, I guess. The fear. The twitchy feeling in your chest. You learn to breathe again. Might take a while, though.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment. Then: “Yeah. Sounds fake, but okay.”

You laughed. She didn't.

But she does touch Rusty’s nose when he leans close enough. Just the briefest brush of her fingers against his muzzle. You watch how gently she moves. She’s got good instincts — like she’s always waiting for something to go wrong, and still, she tries anyway.

“I could show you,” you said.

She blinked. “Show me what?”

You gestured toward the saddles hanging on the far wall. “How to ride. For real this time. Not just tossing hay and ducking out before you get spit on.”

Ellie tilted her head. Suspicious. “Why?”

“Because horses are good company,” you said simply. “And because it might help. Feeling a little more in control of something. Plus, Rusty owes me for biting me last winter. You can help me keep him in line.”

She doesn’t smile. Not really.

But she nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Maybe.”

The porch creaked beneath his boots as he leaned back in the chair, a mug of coffee cooling slow in his hand.

It’s late morning, sun barely cutting through the clouds, and Jackson hums along in its steady rhythm — distant hammering from the north wall, dogs barking at something near the mill, Maria shouting at a runner who forgot his goddamn gloves again. It's the kind of noise that would've driven him up a wall years ago.

Now, it was almost peaceful.

Tommy sat beside him, boots kicked up on the railing, a little too relaxed for someone who was supposed to be leading patrols in two hours. Joel didn’t say anything about it. He wasn't in the mood to start a lecture, and besides — Tommy’s earned some quiet.

“You talk to Ellie this morning?” Tommy asked, squinting up at the sky.

“Briefly.”

“She seems better lately,” Tommy said. “Still got that mouth on her, but… I don’t know. Somethin’ feels lighter.”

Joel nodded, slow. “She asked me about horses.”

Tommy turned to look at him, eyebrow raised.

“Said she wants to learn how to ride,” Joel added. “Said she was at the stables talkin’ to someone.”

“Oh,” Tommy said, and something in his face relaxed. “That’d be her, then.”

Joel frowns. “Who?”

“You know. Her. The one that handles the kids. Stable hand. Been here a few years now.”

He did know. Of course he did.

Because Joel Miller wasn’t a fool.

He’d seen the way you move around Jackson — always steady, never loud. You made it a point not to cross his path directly, but he’s caught the looks. Short ones. Careful. Not flirtatious — not exactly — but... warm. Curious.

Too warm.

At first, he thought he imagined it. But it kept happening — that split-second shift in your eyes when he walked past, the way your voice dipped into something softer when you spoke to Ellie with him in earshot. Not obvious. Not inappropriate. Just... there.

He didn’t like it.

Or rather, he shouldn’t like it.

Because you were what, late twenties? Maybe? Young enough to be one of the kids he used to teach to patch drywall back in Austin. Young enough to still laugh without bitterness stitched behind it.

It wasn't right.

It was stupid, is what it is. Entertaining the thought. Entertaining any thoughts. Not when he’s still waking up every other night with his jaw clenched so tight it hurts. Not when he's still not sure what the hell kind of man he’s managed to become.

“She’d be good for it,” Tommy said, nodding like this is just logistics. “Got patience. Knows how to work with tough kids. Ellie’ll like her.”

Joel grunted.

Tommy side-eyed him. “You don’t think so?”

Joel took a slow sip of his coffee. It was bitter and lukewarm.

“She’s fine,” he said. “Just gotta make sure Ellie don’t get too distracted. That’s all.”

Tommy chuckles under his breath. “Christ, man. Let the kid learn how to ride a horse.”

Joel didn’t respond.

Because he was thinking, unwillingly, about what you’d look like helping Ellie into a saddle. About your quiet way with animals. About your voice — not just the sound of it, but the shape of it. Like you speak to be understood, not heard.

He thought about how you never push. Never linger too long.

And how sometimes, that’s worse than the ones who do.

Because it’d be so easy to say yes.

So easy to let her in.

But Joel Miller knew better.

So instead, he drained the rest of his coffee, sets the mug down, and muttered —

“I’ll walk Ellie to the stables tomorrow.”

Tommy grinned, just a little. “Sure you will.”

Joel didn’t take the bait.

The stable smelled like pine and saddle soap this morning — clean, for once — and you were brushing down Cinnamon when you heard the crunch of boots on the snow-packed earth outside.

You didn’t turn immediately. You figured it’s one of the younger kids, maybe Jesse swinging by before patrol to bum a coffee. But then the door creaks open and a voice floats in behind the cold air.

“Go on.”

It was Joel.

And Ellie.

You glanced up, already trying to make your face neutral. Calm. Friendly. Not stupid.

Ellie walked in first, already in a jacket too big for her, sleeves shoved halfway up her arms. Her expression was lighter than it was a few days ago. She looked... not quite happy, but maybe a step in that direction.

You offered her a small smile. “Look who’s back.”

She shrugged. “Guess I got bored.”

Behind her, Joel lingered in the doorway. One hand on the frame like he hasn’t decided whether to stay or not.

You didn’t say anything to him.

But your eyes flickered — once, quickly. You take in the layered flannel, the gray creeping into his beard, the set of his jaw that always looks like he’s bracing for something.

And then you’d look away.

You moved over to the saddle racks, keeping your hands busy. “You remember Rusty?” you asked Ellie. “He's been waiting for you.”

Ellie stepped closer, already reaching out to pet the stallion’s neck. She talked more than she did the first time — asked about reins and saddles and how to tell if a horse is pissed off. You answered her gently, careful to keep your voice even, your movements steady.

But sometimes — sometimes — you glanced back.

Just for a second. Just to see if he was still standing there.

He was.

Joel didn’t miss much. That’s kept him alive more times than he can count.

So he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyes lift, quick as a blink, when you think he’s not looking. The way your mouth tilted just a little when you laugh at something Ellie said — softer than usual. Like you’re letting your guard down for a second.

Like you wanted him to see it.

And he didn’t like it.

Mostly because he did.

You were too young. Too kind. Too whole in the ways he’s not. And it’s not just the age — though that’s enough on its own — it’s the life you must’ve lived. The one where you still smile with your whole face. Still wave to kids. Still talk to horses like they’re old friends.

And Joel’s not part of that world. He never will be.

Still — he watched the way your hands guide Ellie’s, slow and careful on the reins. He watched the way you move, with purpose but never sharpness. Like you’ve learned how to survive without turning to stone.

He hated how easy it would be.

To step closer.

To say something.

To want.

Ellie swung up into the saddle with a grunt, her arms flailing for balance. You steadied her gently, laughing under your breath, and Joel tore his eyes away. Looked at the snow instead. At the mountains. Anywhere but at you.

At first, he didn’t say much.

Just a nod when he dropped Ellie off. A grunt when you said good morning. Sometimes not even that. Sometimes just that tight-lipped expression like he was doing you a favor by standing there, arms crossed, watching Ellie with narrowed eyes while she tried to get Rusty to turn in a straight line.

You were fine with it.

You really were.

You had horses to feed and boots to clean, kids to teach and saddles to oil. You weren’t about to start talking to a brick wall with a Southern accent.

Still.

Every now and then, you asked a question. Small ones.

“This her first time on a horse?”

“She nervous?”

“You ever ride?”

And sometimes — not always — he answered.

“Once or twice.”

“No, she just don’t like losing.”

“Had one in Austin. Didn’t last long.”

It went like that for a few days.

Quiet.

But not cold.

And then, one morning, you were cleaning the brushes when he stepped a little closer and said, “She said you told her about that horse that bolted last winter. The one that knocked Jesse flat.”

You blinked, then grinned. “Yeah. She liked that part.”

He snorted. Not quite a laugh, but close.

After that, it kept happening. In pieces.

One day, he asked you how you kept the younger horses calm when it snowed heavy. Another, he pointed out a loosened saddle strap before you noticed it yourself. The conversations never lasted long — a minute, maybe two — but they added up. And you found yourself waiting for them. Measuring your mornings by them.

And then one afternoon, it just... happened.

Ellie was off riding slow circles in the clearing just beyond the stables. You and Joel stood near the fence, boots crunching lightly on packed snow. It was quiet — a rare, good kind of quiet. The kind you didn’t mind sitting in.

You handed him a flask of tea. Something warm for your fingers more than anything else.

He hesitated, then took it.

You didn’t watch him drink. You just looked out toward Ellie.

“She’s getting better,” you said.

He nodded. “Picks things up fast.”

“Got a stubborn streak though.”

“Yeah,” he said, and this time there was something in his voice. Something almost fond. “Wonder where she got that.”

You smiled a little.

He handed the flask back.

“I used to be more talkative, you know,” you said. “Before all this. Back when conversations didn’t feel like a negotiation.”

He glanced at you, just briefly.

“Still talk more than most,” he said.

That surprised a laugh out of you.

“Is that your way of sayin’ I talk too much?”

“Didn’t say that,” he replied.

“But you thought it.”

Joel tilted his head slightly, eyes still on Ellie. “Nah,” he said. “Don’t mind it.”

That quiet sat between you again. But it was different now. Not empty — just full of things unspoken.

You looked at him, and for once, didn’t try to hide it.

“Me neither,” you said.

And Joel didn’t look away.

Not this time.

You told yourself three times on the walk over: it’s not a big deal.

You weren’t bringing Joel dinner. You weren’t hoping for anything. You just made too much stew — which was true — and you knew Ellie didn’t love venison, and it’d be a shame to waste it. That’s all.

That’s all.

It was a crisp evening, the kind where smoke curled up from chimneys in lazy ribbons and the sky was pale with cloudlight. You carried the bowl in both hands, covered with a clean cloth, careful not to spill it.

When you reached Joel’s porch, you paused.

The window flickered with warm lamplight. You could hear faint music — one of those old folk tapes Tommy brought back from a run. Inside, someone was moving. Heavy steps.

You knocked twice.

The door opened slower than expected.

Joel looked surprised to see you. Or maybe not surprised — just tired. Like he hadn’t planned on company and wasn’t sure whether to let the moment stretch.

“Hey,” you said lightly, lifting the bowl a little. “Uh... made too much stew. Again. Thought I’d see if you and Ellie wanted some. Before it goes cold.”

You kept your tone casual. Nonchalant. Not nervous, even though your palms were sweating under the ceramic.

Joel’s eyes flicked down to the bowl, then back up to your face.

“That right?”

“Yeah. It’s good today. Won’t be tomorrow. Too much thyme.”

He looked at you like he knew exactly what you were doing — and also, maybe, like he didn’t mind.

He took the bowl.

“Thanks,” he said, after a beat.

You smiled. “No rush returning it.”

You turned to leave before he could say anything else — because staying longer would make it something it wasn’t. You didn’t need to see if he smiled back. You didn’t need a thank you from Ellie. You were just being... kind.

Just neighborly.

Right?

Still, as you walked back through the snow, you felt a little lighter. Like maybe this was your way of reaching out without falling flat on your face. And maybe — just maybe — Joel would reach back.

The stew was warm. Too warm for just leaving the house. She must’ve come straight over.

He knew what it meant. What it could mean. But he also knew how carefully she’d phrased it. Just enough plausible deniability to call it nothing.

He watched Ellie dig into it, muttering something about “finally, someone in this town who knows how to use salt.” Joel only half-listened.

His eyes were still on the empty bowl.

Clean. Sturdy. One of those old ceramic ones the town stockpiled from thrift runs. Familiar.

Too nice to just leave sitting in his kitchen.

It’d be rude not to return it.

Eventually.

He came just after sunset.

You were half-sitting on your worn couch, a book open in your lap that you hadn’t really been reading, when the knock came — three short taps.

You opened the door, and there he was: bowl in hand, snow in his hair, eyes a little cautious like he was already telling himself to keep it brief.

You smiled anyway. “That was fast.”

Joel shrugged. “Didn’t want to forget.” He held the bowl out like it was some kind of peace offering.

You took it, fingers brushing his — just barely — and stepped back from the door.

“You want some coffee?” you asked. “It’s late, but... I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He hesitated. Long enough that you nearly backtracked.

But then: “Sure.”

So you poured two mugs, set the clean bowl down on the counter, and moved back to the living room with Joel trailing behind. You sat on the far end of the couch, tucking your legs beneath you. He settled on the other end, cautious, like the cushions might betray him.

The fire cracked softly in the corner.

He held the mug with both hands. “Ellie liked the stew.”

You smiled, sipping your own. “She say that, or did she just eat like she hadn’t seen food in a week?”

Joel cracked the smallest smile. “Both.”

And just like that, the tension eased.

You talked.

About horses, mostly — Cinnamon’s sudden fear of wheelbarrows, how Jesse still held the reins too tight, how Dina was secretly a natural but pretended not to care. Joel mentioned growing up near horses in Texas, never getting attached, but remembering the sound they made in the cold. The huff of breath. The soft scrape of hooves.

He made a dry comment about one of Tommy’s failed repairs in the watchtower, and you snorted so hard you nearly spilled your coffee.

Joel laughed.

Actually laughed.

It was short. A little rusty. But real.

And it did something to you — like a warm press behind the ribs. You smiled down at your mug, trying to quiet the flutter in your chest.

For Joel, it was worse.

Because his heart was pulling in closer, just an inch. Just one easy step.

And his head — that damn part of him that always ran the numbers, always counted the years and the blood on his hands and the time he didn’t have left — it told him to stop. That this wasn’t fair. Not to you.

But then he’d glance sideways, and you’d be watching the firelight with that soft, far-off look, half-listening and completely calm, and that thought would falter.

Maybe this was harmless.

Maybe staying a little longer wouldn’t ruin anything.

Maybe.

“I missed this,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “Just... talking. Sitting with someone. Feels normal.”

Joel looked at you then.

Really looked.

And for a second, he didn’t fight it.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It does.”

You didn’t start bringing him coffee.

That felt too forward.

But you did start making enough for two when you knew Joel was around the stables. Sometimes you’d “accidentally” pour too much into your thermos and offer him the rest, passing him the cup with a shrug.

“Guess I can’t measure,” you’d say, dry.

Joel would take it with that unreadable look of his. “Suppose I can help with that.”

You didn’t touch him.

But sometimes, you’d brush past — just close enough to make the air shift. A hand on the gate near his. A glance that lingered one beat longer than it used to.

“You keep showing up like this, people are gonna start talkin’,” you joked once when he brought Ellie for her lesson.

Joel grunted. “Let ‘em.”

That surprised you. And for a moment — just a flicker — you let it show.

You didn’t flirt.

Not really.

But when Joel grumbled about something — how early it was, how cold it got at night, how damn much Tommy snored — you’d smirk and say, “Careful, Miller. Keep complaining and I might start thinking you like talking to me.”

And Joel?

He never said no.

He’d glance down, a huff of breath in his chest, something quiet and half-smiling at the corner of his mouth. And he always came back.

You weren’t brave enough to ask why.

Not yet.

But he hadn’t stopped you.

And that had to mean something.

The air in the barn was sharp with sawdust and winter. Joel leaned against the post with a mug in hand, watching Tommy hammer a loose plank back into place along one of the feed storage doors. Their boots crunched in old straw.

Tommy swore quietly as a nail bent sideways.

“Need a different hammer,” he muttered, straightening up and wiping his hands on his jacket. “This one’s for shit.”

Joel grunted. “Maybe the hammer ain’t the problem.”

Tommy shot him a look. “Didn’t know you came out here to heckle me.”

“I come out here to supervise. Free of charge.”

Tommy chuckled, stepping aside to grab a better tool. “How’s Ellie doing with the riding lessons, by the way?”

Joel paused, swirling what was left of his lukewarm coffee.

“Fine,” he said. “She listens to her.”

“Really?” Tommy laughed, impressed. “Didn’t even listen to me when I tried. Thought she was gonna sock me for telling her to sit straight.”

Joel smirked, then leaned a little heavier into the post. “She’s patient with her. Surprised me.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, she’s good with kids. Been teaching some of the younger ones since we got her settled.”

Joel looked out toward the pasture. The snow-covered stretch of fence, the sky a dull silver.

“She ever talk about where she came from?” he asked, tone even. Casual. Or at least trying.

Tommy didn’t catch the shift — didn’t hear the edge of it. He just kept hammering.

“Not much,” he said. “Came in around three years back. Said she was with a group before, didn’t say where. Sounded rough. Guess she was the only one who made it.”

Joel’s grip on the mug tightened just slightly.

“She ever say how?”

“Nope.” Tommy gave a small shake of the head. “Didn’t have to. You can see it on some people, y’know? The way they move. The way they check corners even when they’re home.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“She’s got that.”

A pause.

“But she never acted like she wanted trouble. Said she’d help patrol if we needed it, but... asked to stay with the stables.” Tommy straightened again, stretching his back. “Said she liked the quiet. The routine. I think she just wanted something that didn’t involve losing people.”

Joel’s chest pulled tight. He kept his face neutral.

“Guess that makes sense.”

Tommy gave him a sideways glance. “Why? You curious?”

Joel shrugged. “Just... gettin’ a read.”

“She’s good people, Joel. Smart. Quiet. Can handle herself, but doesn’t try to prove it all the time. Could’ve joined the scouting team or worked up north with weapons, but she didn’t. Wanted a job that didn’t need a gun on her hip every second. I respect that.”

Joel nodded again, like that answered a question he hadn’t asked aloud.

“She’s single, by the way,” Tommy added, like it was nothing.

Joel glanced over. “Didn’t ask.”

“Didn’t say you did.”

Joel rolled his eyes and pushed off the post. “Hammer’s fine, by the way. You’re just gettin’ soft.”

Tommy snorted. “said the man nursing a cup of coffee like it’s a damn antique.”

Joel walked off without another word, but he wasn’t heading far. His steps slowed once he was outside, eyes drifting out toward the stable building.

It was just curiosity.

Just trying to understand the kind of person teaching his kid how to ride.

That was all.

You weren’t expecting him.

It’d been three days since you made that throwaway comment, something mumbled between talk of saddles and the shifting weather. “Pipes’ve been acting up again,” you’d said, half-laughing. “Woke me up the other night—thought someone was trying to crawl through the damn walls.”

You hadn’t meant anything by it. Not really.

But now Joel was at your door, standing there with his sleeves rolled up and a toolbox in hand.

“Pipes still makin’ noise?” he asked, voice low and steady.

You blinked. “Joel—uh. Yeah. Sometimes.” You leaned on the doorframe, brows raised. “You came all the way here to play plumber?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Got bored.”

You smirked. “Didn’t know you got bored.”

He didn’t answer that. Just looked at you, patient. Waiting.

You stepped aside. “Alright. Come in, then. Make yourself at home—just don’t start charging me for labor.”

He passed you with that slow, deliberate way of his, and you hated how your chest stirred at the sound of his boots on your floor. He went straight to the back wall, crouching where the pipework came up behind the little utility closet. You hovered in the doorway.

Joel pulled a wrench from the box. “This it?”

“Yep. That’s the one that hisses like it’s judging me.”

He huffed a breath. Might’ve been a laugh.

You leaned a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed. “Didn’t peg you for the handyman type.”

“I ain’t,” he said. “Just old.”

You let out a small laugh. “So that’s where the wisdom comes from.”

He glanced over his shoulder, catching your eye. “That what you think I am? Wise?”

“I think you’re a mystery.” You didn’t blink. “But hey—if the mystery wants to fix my pipes, who am I to stop him?”

You watched the way the corner of his mouth twitched. Barely there, but enough. He shook his head slightly and turned back to the task.

You lingered.

The tension settled into the room like a second skin — not sharp, but heavy. The kind you could pretend didn’t exist if you were careful with your words. If you didn’t look too long. If your fingers didn’t ache to fidget with something.

“I could’ve gotten Tommy to look at it,” you offered lightly. “You didn’t have to come all the way over.”

Joel didn’t turn. “Didn’t say I had to.”

Your heart skipped. Just a beat.

You shifted your weight. “Well. I owe you, then.”

“You don’t.”

“But maybe I wanna owe you.”

That made him pause.

His hand stilled on the pipe. His shoulders drew tight. Then, slowly, he straightened, turning to face you with that unreadable stare. Your breath caught in your throat — not fear. Not even nerves. Just the sense that you were toeing a line neither of you had the words for yet.

Joel looked at you.

Really looked.

His voice, when it came, was quiet. Rough. “You always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

He tilted his head. “Like you don’t mean half of what you’re sayin’.”

You didn’t look away.

“I mean it,” you said, soft. “I just know when to pull back.”

He held your gaze for a second too long.

And then—like a spell breaking—he looked away, returning to the pipes.

“I’ll finish this up,” he muttered.

You smiled faintly. Not triumphant, not smug. Just... warm. Like a spark had finally caught.

The pipe was quiet now.

The room wasn’t.

Joel stood by the door, toolbox back in hand, like he meant to leave. You stayed by the kitchen counter, arms folded loosely over your chest, not pressing him to go — but not rushing to fill the silence, either.

“Thanks for this,” you said. Your voice was warm, casual. Like everything wasn’t coiled tight between your ribs. “You want coffee before you head out?”

He didn’t answer right away.

He looked at you — long enough that your fingers started tapping against your arm.

Then he set the box down again, slow. “Yeah. Alright.”

You poured two mugs, handed one to him without brushing fingers, barely. He took it, leaned against the wall, sipped without a word.

And the quiet stretched.

And the air pressed in.

It wasn’t awkward.

It was thick — like something had been building and building and now it was just waiting for one of you to cut the cord.

You didn’t mean to say anything.

But your voice broke through anyway. “You’re quieter than usual.”

Joel looked at you.

He set his mug down.

And then he said it — simple, flat, direct:

“I noticed.”

You blinked. “...Noticed what?”

“The looks.” His tone wasn’t accusing. Wasn’t soft either. Just real. “The glances. The way you… hover sometimes. The jokes.”

You froze, heat crawling up your neck.

“I ain’t stupid,” Joel said. “Not blind either.”

Your throat went dry. “Didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“You weren’t.” He exhaled, jaw ticking. “But I still saw it. And I shouldn’t have let it go on this long.”

The words hit harder than you expected.

You opened your mouth — to say what, you didn’t know — but Joel kept going, his voice rough now. A little too fast. Like he needed to get it out before he lost his nerve.

“You don’t want this,” he muttered. “Not really.”

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’m old. Got more ghosts than friends. I’ve done things — things I don’t talk about. And I’m not someone you—” he swallowed hard, like the words turned bitter in his mouth, “—should be wastin’ your time on.”

“That’s not your call to make.”

“You could find someone your age,” he shot back, voice sharp. “Someone without all the shit I carry.”

“I don’t want someone else.”

Joel looked at you like you were breaking some unspoken rule. Like you’d just reached into his chest and knocked something loose.

“I’m not some kid, Joel,” you said, stepping closer, coffee abandoned on the counter. “I’m twenty-eight. I’ll be thirty soon. I’ve survived things, same as you. I’ve lost people. I’ve seen how the world works.”

You paused, searching his face. “It’s not like it’s illegal.”

His mouth twitched, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

You kept your voice gentle. “I wasn’t asking for forever. I wasn’t even asking—you’re the one who brought it up. But if you’re trying to push me away, Joel, don’t pretend it’s because I can’t make my own choices.”

The silence returned.

But this time, it felt earned.

Joel ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor, shoulders tense.

And then he spoke — low, soft, quieter than before:

“I liked the glances.”

Your heart clenched.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “That’s the problem.”

You didn’t smile. Not yet. But something eased inside you.

The words hung between you like a string pulled taut.

Joel hadn’t moved. Still leaning against the wall, jaw tight, hands clenched by his sides like he didn’t trust them to stay still.

Your chest rose slow with your breath. Measured. Steady. And then you stepped closer — close enough that your knees brushed the coffee table as you lowered yourself next to him on the couch.

Close enough that your shoulder just barely touched his.

“Are you gonna push me away again?” you asked, quiet.

Joel’s eyes flicked to yours. “I should.”

“But you’re not.”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t have to.

His jaw twitched, and when you looked at him — really looked — you saw it: not just the hesitation, but the wanting underneath it. The ache he tried so hard to fold behind all that worn-down steel.

You shifted again, closer, slow and careful like you might spook him.

He didn’t move away.

“If you really wanted me to stop,” you murmured, “you’d already be out the door.”

Joel exhaled like it hurt. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me.”

He turned his head toward you, eyes searching yours like he was looking for a way out — but none came.

And then his voice, low and strained: “You don’t know what I’ve done. What I carry. It ain’t light.”

“I never said you had to be.”

He looked down at your mouth.

Then back at your eyes.

“I’m too old for you,” he said. A protest without teeth.

You leaned in, barely a breath away now. “Then don’t act your age for once.”

That broke something.

Joel surged forward.

The kiss was messy — more force than finesse, rough with restraint finally snapping. His hands were on your jaw, your waist, the back of your neck like he couldn’t decide where to hold you first, couldn’t believe he was touching you at all. You kissed him back just as hungrily, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like you could anchor him there.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered against your lips, between every breath. “This is a bad fuckin’ idea.”

You pulled back just enough to smirk. “Then stop.”

He didn’t.

You tangled again, mouths pressed hot and unyielding, fingers threading through his hair, his calloused hands firm on your hips like he’d been imagining this long before he ever admitted it.

His body was heat and solidity, but his kiss — for all the tension, the weight behind it — was careful. A man afraid of letting go completely. A man trying to memorize every second because he didn’t believe he deserved them.

You broke the kiss only when your lungs protested, forehead resting against his, breath mingling.

Joel’s hand stayed on your cheek.

Neither of you said anything for a moment.

Then, finally, your voice — quiet, teasing: “Still a bad idea?”

Joel swallowed, eyes closed. “Worst one I’ve had in years.”

You smiled against him.

“Good,” you whispered.

His hands were back on you before the next breath could fall.

You didn’t stop him.

Your fingers slipped beneath his collar, tracing the scarred skin of his neck, tugging him down to kiss you again — slower this time, deliberate, not rushed. But there was heat there, hunger. A need to feel, to prove something.

Joel’s hand slid along your spine and under your shirt, calloused fingers skimming over the small of your back. You gasped into his mouth when his palm flattened over your ribs, thumb brushing dangerously close to your breast.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered, mouth ghosting along your jaw. “Tell me now.”

But you pulled your shirt over your head instead.

That was your answer.

Joel swore under his breath, voice gravel and smoke. His lips returned to yours, then wandered — the slope of your throat, the hollow beneath your ear, the edge of your shoulder. His mouth was reverent, starved, like he was tracing something he’d dreamed of but never thought he’d earn.

You tugged at his flannel, desperate to feel him closer. He let you pull it free, and when your hands found his skin, you both froze for a beat.

So much scar tissue. So much history written across his body.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss just over his heart.

Joel breathed deep — and then lowered you back onto the couch.

Your back hit the cushions, and he followed, bracing himself above you with an arm. His other hand slid down, dragging the hem of your pants with it, fingers curling over your hips, your thighs, until you lay bare beneath him.

“Look at me,” he said.

You did.

And when his hand finally touched your pussy, you arched, every nerve alive. His fingers were slow at first — skilled, attentive, learning what you liked by instinct. His mouth found your nipple when you gasped, and that was it — your thoughts blurred, pulse wild.

“You’re already so—” he stopped himself, jaw tightening. “Fuck.”

You whispered his name, breathless.

He kissed your lips again, deep and lingering. Then pulled back to undo his belt, hands trembling.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice nearly breaking. “I’ve got you.”

And when he finally eased into you — slow, careful, letting you adjust — your hands clutched his shoulders, grounding yourself in the solid weight of him, in the realness of it all.

Your pussy stretched to take his cock in fully, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you.

Neither of you spoke.

It was too much. And not enough.

Joel rocked into you — gentle at first, deliberate. The pace of a man who knew restraint better than most. But your fingers in his hair, the way you whispered his name, the way your legs wrapped around his waist — it all undid him.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, voice cracking.

“Christ,” he rasped, driving in deeper, slower. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

His forehead pressed against yours. Your breath mingled. His hips stuttered when you clenched around him, your nails biting into his back.

“Don’t stop,” you begged.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

Joel's gaze locked with yours, his expression intense and filled with desire. He increased his pace, his body moving with a sense of urgency.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, his breath hot against your skin. "Jesus, baby. You're so tight.”

He could feel you getting closer, as desperate for release as he was, his breath ragged and uneven.

"That's it, baby. Let go. Come for me, come for me," he huskily murmured, his words a mix of guidance and command.

You came with a shudder — clinging to him, head buried in his shoulder, a strangled sound caught in your throat. And Joel — God, Joel — followed seconds later, muffling his groan in your neck as he spilled deep inside you.

You stayed tangled on the couch, limbs heavy and warm.

No words were said.

But his fingers traced lazy lines over your arm.

Part 2

—comment if you wanna be added to this fic taglist

taglist: @started-with-f-ends-with-uck @havensucks

[ddejavvu]

Hii hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if I could request a criminal minds blurb where reader is Penelope’s best friend and they’ve met for lunch in a cafe near Quantico, and reader is telling Penny about this new guy she hooked up with a few nights ago, reader tells Penny how big the guy was and then a few minutes later Spencer walks in and reader is like “P omg that’s the guy!!” And gestures towards Spencer who’s the only person ordering at the counter? I just feel like Penny would be equal parts both shocked and horrified that her sweet innocent boy Spence has a sex life but also that he’s HUNG?? I literally love you and all your Spencer works and I feel like you’d write this perfectly 🫶🫶

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Penelope is absolutely enraptured by the play-by-play you're murmuring to her over the low din of the cafe's patronage. The whirring and grinding of the machines behind the counter only further aid in your attempt to keep your conversation private, and you can smell sweet strawberries on the bubbly blonde when you lean in to give her details.

"And he reached for his fly- ooh, Penny, the way his arms looked," You gush, remembering the thick veins that had corded his bone while he'd wrestled with his belt, "He whipped his belt out of the way, and- stop!" You urge her when she wriggles her brows at you, "He took his pants off, Penny, and I swear to god I've seen thighs thinner than that dick."

Her resulting squeal is much less hushed than you'd managed to keep the rest of your conversation, and you swat at the arm that's not holding her coffee. She gets the message but resorts to stamping her feet beneath the table instead, a repeated clicking that blends in much better with the mechanical whirring of the baristas' handiwork.

"He was so thick, and Jesus- Penny, he was long, too, just big all around," You recall, insides throbbing with a phantom ache at the memory of what you'd taken last night, "I swear he had me seeing stars," You sigh, glancing down at the pale pink ring of lip gloss around the mouth of your cup, "I'd beg him to come over again tonight, but I think I need a week to recover."

"A week," She breathes dreamily, "I could barely feel the last guy I had."

"Oh, I could feel him," You laugh, "It's like I still can, I'm pretty sure he bruised- oh fuck!"

"What?" Penelope's brow dips instantly, concern etched into her pretty features, "What's wrong?"

"It's him," You grip her hand, nails digging into her skin, "It's the guy from last night!"

"Big dick dude?" She asks, and your frantic nod confirms her theory.

She tries to be subtle, bless her, when she turns to see him, but when the only person that she sees standing in line for a drink is her coworker, her brain chugs along slower than normal.

Where's big dick dude?

Oh, Spencer's here!

I don't see big dick dude.

Spencer is-

You're not sure even the most talented actor could ever recreate the sheer horror swimming in her gaze when she turns to face you again. Her eyes are blown wide and her mouth, lined in a pretty fuchsia paste, is downturned in a grimace.

"Please tell me you're not talking about the skinny mess in the sweater vest."

"That's exactly who I'm talking about!" You gush, trying to avoid his gaze lest he thinks you're trying to follow him around, "Penny, isn't he dreamy?"

"That's- oh my god," She recalls your descriptions, thicker than thighs, longer than you've ever seen, "I have to resign."

[seokminfilm]

gorgeous ☆ yoon jeonghan

☆, pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader ☆, description: gorgeous yoon jeonghan was all yours. ☆, warnings/tropes: non-idol au, established relationship, boyfriend jeonghan, a mention of food, a potentially suggestive line, flirting, kissing, lots of skinship, pet names: bunny (reader's), han, hannie (his), jeonghan is called pretty and gorgeous ☆, lyr's footnotes: missing jeonghan terribly. that's it. also this is dedicated to the biggest jeonghan stans i know @hanniescookie and @kissbyoon ily both sm ☆, now playing: banana shake ~ hus ☆, word count: 642 ☆, written for: @kstrucknet

"you're staring again, bunny." jeonghan says with a sing-song voice, lips curved into a tantalizing smirk as he sips on his lemonade.

flushed, you roll your eyes, not denying his observation as you shrug. "what can i say? my boyfriend is absolutely gorgeous."

that makes jeonghan fall back into his chair, fluffy black hair curling around his face as the wind starts to dance around him. his porcelain skin is glowing with the suns rays, and his tired eyes sleepily survey you up and down as his lithe, soft fingers drum on the table.

"you know, i'm starting to think that pasta got to your cute little head." the sentence makes a laugh bubble out of you, and you shake your head, standing up as jeonghan follows suit.

"oh no. i'm one hundred percent convinced it's you that got to my cute little head," you reach for jeonghan's hand, to which he takes quickly and rubs his fingers along his knuckles.

the parisian sun gently shines down on you and jeonghan's bodies as you stroll through the bustling streets. the sky is a dusty blue, fluffy clouds as soft as the kiss jeonghan presses to your forehead. "hannie, no."

""no" what? do you not want my love anymore?" jeonghan's biting back a smile, feigning surprise as you shake your head. your hand slyly slides up jeonghan's arm, cold pale skin under yours as he grins. his eyelashes brush his glass skin as he blinks, chocolate eyes wide open again seconds later.

"if you keep kissing me while we're walking," jeonghan pauses to giggle as you press another kiss to the back of his hand, "we're going to lose our turn to the park."

"are you sure you still want to go? doesn't our bedroom sound so much more fun?" you flirt, eyes filled with mirth as jeonghan looks down at you. he's enjoying this side of you, seeing you rise up to the challenge and react to his jokes in the way he know you will.

"later. i still need my vitamin d." jeonghan slides a hand around your waist, fingers digging in just enough to be a reminder that he's there. you laugh, trying to ignore the blush that rises to the surface of your face. jeonghan detects it anyway, smirking in triumph as he steers you to the park.

the park itself is slowing down, a few stray couples and families still lingering around. tourists also take pictures, posing in front of all the sights. jeonghan wastes no time leading you to a tree close to the waterline of paris, sitting on the ground bdfore strippinghimself of his jacket and letting you sit on it.

"oh, what a gentleman you are," you tease, finding a comfortable position on the jacket before you steal a glance at your boyfriend. his short-sleeved black tee hugs his body in just the right way, slender limbs encasing you in a hug that screams jeonghan.

his hands are calmly rubbing circles into your back, and he presses kiss after kiss onto of your hed as you snuggle into him.

"you really are gorgeous, han." you say after a few minutes of quiet reflection, and jeonghan chuckles that signature chuckle, pulling way just to look at you.

"really?" jeonghan asks, voice just barely above a whisper as you nod. you let your fingers find their place in his curly hair, gently scratching his scalp as he shudders under your touch.

"yeah. beautiful." you say again, leaning in as jeonghan's eyes fall half-lidded. he's staring down at you lazily, the ghost of a smile on his face before you lock lips with him. you taste everything that is jeonghan, lemonade, strawberry chapstick, and vanilla icing blending into a flavor that can only be described as 'yoon jeonghan'.

it's a flavor you know you'll never get tired of.

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Princess - Lip Gallagher

Lip Gallagher x F! Reader 18+

Summary: Tony's little sister has a crush on Lip and Lip has fallen for her even if she seems like a princess.

Words: 2400

Warnings: NSFW, Dry sex / Dry humping, alcohol, marijuana

~MDNI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was Tony Markovich's little sister and she had the world's biggest crush on Phillip Gallagher. Lip hadn't always liked the girl, he found her too shy, always hiding in the background but the last few months, bumping into her as she leaves her brothers place to then hanging out together, he found himself falling for her. Walking sunshine would be his best description of her, followed closely by princess which she complains about although she secretly loves the nickname.  

Lip was apprehensive to start anything with Tony's little sister, the man might like Fiona and by extension Lip and his family, but he was still a cop and he'd seen how scary he could be towards her boyfriend Kyle a few years back so it was no surprise she'd been single since. Y/n however was afraid Lip just wasn't into her and had been too afraid to say anything, her anxiety keeping her feelings just below the surface. It was hard though, watching him with Karen then even harder when they stopped seeing each other because now she could feasibly tell him how she feels but still the words would stick in her throat.

Tonight, she sat huddled under a picnic blanket, staring at the small crackling fire as people around the makeshift circle laughed and chatted. She glanced up when a beer bottle entered her line of sight and smiled up at Lip who was offering her the drink. "Thanks Lip, looks like it was a fight for the cooler tonight" she mused, eyeing the small group of guys that were stood around said cooler yelling at each other. "Ah, worth the fight I recon" Lip had laughed as he sat down beside her and as she tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Getting a glare from her in response, "It's not my fault I dressed for summer in summer, only for the temperature to drop like it's fall".

Lip pulled out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag of it, watching the smoke he blows back out dissipate into the air. Turning slightly, he offered it to y/n before remembering she doesn't smoke, "sorry, I always forget, you're a princess" he scoffed, lips curled into a playful smirk. He often made fun of her for it but never with the intention of forcing her into it and up until now she had never shown an interest either, never seemed bothered by the teasing. However, to his surprise he felt her fingers brush over his hand as she moved to take it from him causing Lip to raise a brow in surprise.

"Y'know I'm joking right? It's fine you don't smoke" Lip was quick to reassure her as he turned to face her properly. "Yeah, I know. You'd never make me do anything I didn't want to Lip. I want to try it, just been afraid of getting caught by Tony and he's working tonight, so" she shrugged, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "Plus, I know I'm safe with you for my first-time smoking weed so, if the offer stands?" Lip nodded, that familiar warm feeling settling in his chest which he was quick to wave off as the weed even though he knew better. He handed the joint to her, explaining how to smoke it then watching as she followed his instructions.

Y/n only held it in her lungs for a few seconds before the dry burn of her lungs had her coughing. Lip reached over, rubbing her back as he laughed at her, a shit eating grin on his face. “Cat got your lung?” Lip laughed again, only to get whacked in the chest by her hand causing him to cough. Y/n shot him daggers but her lips were quirked up, her features alight with amusement the way he loved and it made him smile and that warm feeling tighten.

It only took a few minutes for it to kick in, but when it did, y/n found herself entranced by the fire, the way it moved and the flames broke off and flicked up into the sky had her captivated. Lip however was captivated instead by her, the way her eyes watched the flames and reflected them and the little gasp when it made a particularly loud crackle. At one point y/n leant into Lip’s side, his arm moving to wrap around her while she spoke, “Does it always feel this peaceful?” Lip shook his head, squeezing her lightly, “Not always, depends on the person and how often they smoke.” Y/n made a small sound in reply before smiling up at him. “I think this is the first time in my life I actually feel calm, like I can talk without everything catching in my throat, I like it” her voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the fire.

She perked up as a new song came on, “Oh! Oh Lip, I love this song” she beamed, standing up and extending her hand to him, “dance with me?” Had it been anyone else he would’ve said no but he couldn’t, not to her and with that he placed his beer down and took her hand. Y/n wasn’t a good dancer, but her awkwardness was rather endearing to Lip as they danced to a few songs, laughing freely as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Lip smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugged her back before lifting her up and spinning her around. She giggled, holding on tighter until he set her back down. Y/n expected the anxiety to bubble up as she looked up at him but instead found only the uninhibited desire to kiss him. One hand still holding his shoulder, the other moved to his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him, catching Lip off guard entirely. It took a second for him to kiss back but once he did, he never wanted to stop. It was a simple kiss, but they could both feel more, so when she pulled back, he pouted causing her to laugh.

“Walk me home?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Lip nodded, “yeah, ‘course.” He took her hand and they headed for Tony’s house, although as they reached the foot path, the cool breeze had y/n shivering, curling into his arm. As much as he liked her being that close, he felt bad and quickly pulled away to shed his coat and wrap her in it, smiling when only her finger tips peeked through the sleeves. Taking her hand again, he was relieved when she leant back into him. As they reached the porch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling back at him, “coming?” Lip was quick to take her outstretched hand and follow her in. They walked upstairs and she pushed open one of the doors, he looked around her bedroom before looking back at her. She was kicking off her shoes and hopping onto her bed so he followed suit, coming to sit beside her, back against the wall and feet hanging off the other side of her bed while she sat facing him, legs tucked to the side.

Her fingers brushed his hand, pulling his eyes to her, “can I kiss you again?” Lip smiled, leaning forward and she was quick to meet him halfway. This time the kiss wasn’t unexpected and Lip made sure to make it a good one. His hands sat either side of her face, fingers curling into her hair as his tongue traced her bottom lip and without hesitation she opened her mouth for him, giving him complete control as she leant into him. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and Lip moved a hand to her waist, pulling her closer until she was sat, straddling his lap. The kissing only got more heated from there, Lip ran his hand on her waist under her top, loving the way she leaned into his touch. His hand moved to her back, tracing up and down her spine before returning to her waist.

Lip broke the kiss causing y/n to whine before he pressed his lips to her neck, hands moving to shove his jacket off her shoulders. She easily shrugged it off, letting the heavy fabric hit the floor as she focused on the way his teeth nipped her neck making her gasp. “Lip” her voice came out so softly it was barely audible but their proximity meant he heard her and he smiled against her throat, “Princess?” Her cheeks reddened at the teasing tone, her fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the short pieces at the back making him groan as he looked up to her. Both of his hands sat on her hips now and he gripped them tightly, pulling her forward, grinding her against the rough denim that wasn’t doing much to conceal how hard he was in that moment. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat, cheeks now a deep shade of red as she looked down at him.

“Lip, I…” her voice trailed off and Lip stopped, eyes lifting to meet hers, brows knitting together, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” She shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before glancing down, “I want to, I really do but, you should know I’m, well I’m a virgin.” Lip felt bad, the way she whispered the word ‘virgin’ sounded like she was ashamed and his hand caught the side of her face, encouraging her to look at him, “It’s okay.” Now it was his turn for his voice to trail off as he sighed, “You’re still high though, we can’t… you’re first time should be sober.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before I invited you up here, now we’re both, I’m sorry Lip!” y/n rambled, immediately afraid she’d ruined his night and was about to hop off when Lip grabbed her hip, shaking his head, “It’s okay, we can just, make-out if you want? Or not if you don’t want to.” She shifted her weight back to the centre of his lap to kiss him however the friction had them both groaning. She was quick to apologise again and Lip was just as quick to reassure her it was okay, pressing his lips to hers in hopes of returning to the make-out session.

Lip kept his hands to her back and waist, his lips on hers or the hickey he had started earlier. Y/n however was still well aware of just how turned on they both were and decided to roll her hips against him. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the desperation for some form of friction, either way, feeling Lip dig his fingers into her waist made her smile. It wasn’t until she did it a second time with a bit more force that Lip realised it was no longer an accident, he glanced up at her with a brow raised and she bit her lip, “Is this okay?” Lip was sure he should say no and stop her, he should be decent and tell her to go to bed, but his decency seemed to stop at sex. Grinding on one another though? That was fair game. So instead, he found himself pushing his hips hard up into her, watching with a smirk as she gasped.

Things devolved into desperation after that, both tipsy and high, they wanted to feel good and their hot kisses full of tongue and teeth were only adding fuel to the fires burning in them. Lip was now gripping y/n’s hips tightly, using them as leverage to drag her over his now painfully hard cock, grunting as he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck. Y/n was no better, the previous slow rolling of her hips was now faster and getting uneven like her breathing, the small whimpers and moans only pushing Lip closer to his own climax. “Fuck, princess, you sound so sweet” Lip groaned against her ear, kissing her temple then her lips. She had avoided speaking, knowing sentences weren’t going to be achievable right now but she stuttered nonetheless, “so close, Lip, so” her voice cut off with a particularly harsh thrust from Lip. “Lip, Lip please, Lip,” she whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as she chanted his name. She came moments later, body tensing as she cried out his name while Lip kept her moving as until he came too, groaning against her chest.

Y/n began to come down from her high, head resting against his shoulder as she got her breathing back to normal. Lip held her tightly still, arms now wrapped around her waist and his head leant back against the window. They stayed like that for a while, both enjoying the euphoria and comfort within one another before finally y/n leant back, cheeks red as she looked at Lip. He was quick to kiss her before leaning back to meet her eyes, “you okay?” She nodded, “yeah, I’m okay. You?” Lip nodded, kissing her cheek softly. “It’s probably really silly but god I am so tired now” she whispered causing Lip to laugh. “No, it’s not, it’s pretty normal. I should get home anyway; let you get to bed” He smiled softly at her.

Nodding, y/n slipped herself off his lap, “Yeah, plus if Tony comes home to us in bed together, I think he’d kill you.” Lip laughed nervously, hopping off the bed and grabbing his jacket, holding it in front of his crotch in hopes he could hide the dark patch they’d both made. He leant across the bed, kissing her gently but with a depth that had her head spinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow princess” Lip smirked at her before heading out. Y/n sat on her bed wondering if she just imagined it all or if it was some crazy weed induced hallucination, however as her eyes flicked across the floor, she noticed Lip’s scarf on the floor and she went a grabbed it. With the scarf in hand, she curled up under her covers, bringing the scarf up to her nose and breathing in, smiling at the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer she knew it was real and found herself falling asleep to thought of seeing Lip again tomorrow.

[lone-esper]

Her Game

Lee Hyunseo/Leeseo × Male Reader

Pussy Eating, Squirting, A Little Bit Of Thigh Fucking, Pussy Fuck, Creampie

3,202 Words

I'm experimenting with a longer build-up while focusing more on the situation/story rather than the smut scenes. Honestly, I am a little dissatisfied but oh well, tell me what you guys think if you would.

The click of the locker room door feels unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet.

Just moments ago, the space had been a low hum of activity. Jiyeon, Leeseo’s ever-present manager, was fussing over a loose thread on her costume, while Leeseo herself was slumped dramatically in a chair, fanning her face and letting out exaggerated sighs. Now, there’s only you and her.

“It's so hot,” she whined, her voice dripping with a carefully crafted exhaustion that didn’t quite reach her bright, watchful eyes. “Jiyeon unnie, I’m so, so thirsty. But not for water. For that special strawberry milk from the big convenience store three blocks away. The one with the little cartoon bear? Please? I can’t perform my best without it.”

Jiyeon hesitated, glancing at the clock, but one look at Leeseo’s perfected pout had her grabbing her purse and keys. “Alright, alright, you little diva. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You,” she said, pointing a stern finger at you, “keep an eye on her. Make sure she rests.”

And then, the click.

You’re the new guy on the security detail, barely a few months into the job. Your primary role is crowd control and creating a buffer, but for solo schedules like this, you’re also a glorified assistant, a presence meant to deter any sasaengs and handle minor logistics.

You’ve been trying to keep your head down, to be professional, invisible. You spend your time in the corners of rooms, like you are now, arranging equipment cases and neatly folding discarded towels. You're aware of her, of course.

It’s impossible not to be. She’s Leeseo, the giant baby of the group, all long limbs and dazzling smiles.

You’ve seen her on stage, a whirlwind of charisma, and you’ve seen her off stage, a master of cute antics, constantly clinging to her unnies or charming the staff with a well-timed pouting.

The silence stretches, and you feel her gaze on your back like a physical touch. You pretend to be absorbed in your task, aligning the water bottles with military precision.

“Oppa.”

Her voice is different now. The whiny, childish edge is gone, replaced by something softer, smokier. It slides down your spine and coils low in your gut. You turn slowly.

She hasn’t moved from her chair, but her posture has changed. She’s no longer slumping. She’s leaning back, one hand braced on the seat, her head tilted. The short skirt she’s wearing for the concept shoot is hiked up slightly, revealing the tops of a pair of delicate, pastel pink stockings.

They disappear high up her thighs, into the shadows beneath the fabric. Her legs are crossed, drawing your eyes to the smooth, honey-toned skin of her calves and the gentle curve of her knees.

“I’m still so tired,” she says, her voice a low murmur. “This costume is so tight.” She uncrosses her legs and lets them fall open just a little. It’s a subtle shift, but it feels like the whole world has tilted on its axis. “My legs feel so cramped in these stockings.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Should I… get you a different chair?” you ask, the words sounding stupid and hollow even to your own ears.

A slow smile plays on her lips. It’s not the bright, innocent smile for the cameras. This one is pure temptation. “No, oppa. I need help with something else.” She pats her thigh, the sound is a soft thump in the silent room. “These stockings. They’re so hard to take off by myself. I’m too tired to bend over.”

Your heart hammers against your ribs. This is a line. A massive, brightly lit, neon-glowing line that your job description, your professionalism, and every ounce of common sense screams at you not to cross. But you’re young, and she is breathtakingly beautiful, and the look in her eyes is not a request. It’s a challenge. A dare.

“Please, oppa?” she asks, her voice dipping into that whiny tone again, but this time it’s a weapon of seduction. She pouts, her bottom lip glistening. “My legs are aching.”

You take a hesitant step forward, and then another. It feels like you’re walking through water. You stop in front of her, your tall frame casting a shadow over her. From this angle, looking down, the view is even more intoxicating.

The skirt seems impossibly short, and her thighs look even more incredible. They are not the stick-thin limbs of some idols; they are full, strong, dancer’s thighs. Meaty, just as you’d imagined, with a soft curve that promises heaven.

“Okay,” you hear yourself say, your voice is suddenly rough.

You kneel. The cold tile floor is a shock to your knees, grounding you for a moment. You are at her mercy, positioned perfectly between her legs. The air is stuffy with her scent, a mix of sweet perfume and her own unique, feminine musk. She shifts in her chair, parting her legs a little wider to give you access.

“They’re attached up here,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the hem of her skirt. “You’ll have to… reach inside.”

Your hand trembles as you reach for the hem of her skirt. The wool is soft beneath your fingertips. You lift it slowly. The pastel pink stocking top comes into view, held in place by a delicate garter strap connected to a lacy band around her thigh. And just above it, the bare, supple skin of her inner thigh. The sight makes the air catch in your lungs.

“Be careful, oppa,” she breathes, a shaky words.

Your fingers brush against her skin as you work the small clasp of the garter. It’s hot. So incredibly hot. She lets out a soft gasp as your knuckles graze the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. You manage to unhook it, and the stocking immediately loses some of its tension.

“Now the other one,” she instructs, her voice barely a whisper.

You repeat the process on her other leg, your movements a little bolder this time. As you unclip the second garter, you let your fingers linger for a fraction of a second too long, feeling the faint, rapid pulse beating beneath her skin. She shivers, a full-body tremor that you can see and feel.

With both garters undone, you grasp the rolled hem of the stocking on her right leg. You begin to peel it down. The nylon whispers against her skin as you reveal her thigh, her knee, her calf. You roll it carefully all the way down, over her ankle, and off her foot. Her bare leg is flawless, glowing in the artificial light of the room. You set the stocking aside and reach for the other one.

As you begin to roll the second one down, she stops you. Her hand covers yours, pressing it firmly against her thigh.

“Wait,” she says, her eyes dark and hazy with yearning. “You’re so kind, oppa. So handsome, too.” She leans forward, her other hand coming up to cup your jaw. Her thumb strokes your cheek. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I’ve seen you.”

You can’t speak. You can only stare into her eyes as she leans closer still.

“I’m so wet, oppa,” she confesses. She shifts her hips, a small movement that makes the fabric of her panties rustle. “Ever since you walked in today. I sent Jiyeon-unnie away for you.”

Her confession shatters the last of your resistance. This isn’t an accident. It’s a calculated, desperate seduction. And it’s working.

“She thinks I’m such a kid,” Leeseo continues, a bitter edge to her tone. “They all do. But I’m not. I’m a woman. And I want you.” She guides your hand from her thigh, moving it deliberately towards the apex of her legs. She places your palm flat against her crotch, right over the thin cotton of her panties.

It’s completely soaked. You can feel the damp heat through the fabric, a shocking, undeniable proof of her arousal. She moans low and presses herself against your hand.

“Please, oppa,” she begs, her facade of control crumbling into raw, open need. “I need you to taste me. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

The request, so blunt and needy, sends a jolt of lust through you. You don’t need any more convincing. You lean forward, your nose brushing against the damp fabric of her panties. The scent is intoxicating—sweet, musky, and utterly Leeseo. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and pull them off.

Her pussy is a revelation. Plump, pink lips, glistening with a creamy, white wetness. They are dewy and slick, already weeping for you. She gasps as the cool air hits her exposed flesh. Without a second thought, you lower your head and press your mouth on her cunt.

She screams, a sharp, choked sound that is quickly muffled as she presses a hand to her mouth. Her hips buck wildly. The taste of her is even more addictive than her scent. You lick up her cream, savouring the flavour as you explore her folds and ridges with your tongue. You find her clit, a hard little pearl hidden beneath its hood, and you lave it with attention.

“Oppa! Oh, god, oppa, yes!” she cries into her hand, her body convulsing.

She grabs fistfuls of your hair, not to pull you away, but to hold you closer, grating herself against your mouth with a frantic energy. Her wetness floods your mouth. She's getting closer, her moans becoming more desperate, her breathing ragged.

You work your tongue faster, harder, determined to give her what she wants. With a piercing cry, she comes apart, her body seizing in a powerful orgasm, her inner walls clenching and releasing as she overflows your mouth with her climax.

She slumps back in the chair, boneless and panting, her eyes glazed over. You pull back slowly, your chin and lips slick with her juices. You look up at her, and she gives you a dazed, grateful smile.

But you’re not done. Her orgasm has pushed you over the edge. The bulge in your pants is now a painful, throbbing ache. You stand up, your movements are urgent. Leeseo’s eyes widen as she takes in the prominent shape of your huge cock straining against the fabric of your trousers.

“Oppa…” she breathes, her eyes full of awe and hunger.

You don’t waste time with words. You undo your belt and unzip your pants, freeing your erection. It springs out, thick, long, and lubricates with a bead of precum at the tip. Leeseo licks her lips, her gaze fixed on it.

“It’s so big,” she whispers reverently.

She’s still waiting and open for you, her thighs trembling. But you want to feel those amazing thighs wrapped around you first.

“Could you, uhh, wrap your legs around my neck,” you hesitate.

She obeys instantly, her dancer’s flexibility allowing her to hook her ankles behind your head. You position between her legs and push your hips forward. The head of your cock presses against her wet folds, but instead of pushing in, you slide up, rubbing the length of your shaft between her plump, wet labia and up against her still-sensitive clit.

Her head tosses back. “Oh, that feels so good!”

You hug her legs close, sinking your cock between her meaty thighs. They grip you tightly, her wetness and your precum making an easing, hot sheath for you. You fuck her thighs, your beat hard and fast, the sound of your skin slapping hers echoing in the room. She moans with every thrust, her hands gripping the sides of her chair, her knuckles white.

“Please, oppa, put it inside me,” she begs, her voice broken. “I need to feel your cock inside me. All of it. Pretty please~”

Her plea is your command. You pull back, the head of your cock hovering at her entrance. She is so wet, so ready for you. You push forward, and the thick crown of your cock slips inside her. She cries out, a mix of discomfort and pleasure. She’s tight, so wonderfully, virginally tight.

“You’re so tight, Leeseo,” you groan, pushing deeper.

You fill her completely, stretching her, burying to the hilt inside her. You’re both panting, staring at each other in a moment of sheer, primal connection. Then you begin to move.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. You pull almost all the way out before slamming back into her, hitting her inner walls with every deep thrust. She screams your name, no longer bothering to muffle the sound.

Her legs are wrapped around your waist now, her heels digging into your back. The skirt is bunched up around her waist, a ridiculous accessory to the raw, hardcore fuck you’re giving her.

“Faster, oppa! Harder!” she cries, meeting your thrusts with her own.

You’re both lost in a haze of lust. The world has shrunk to this locker room, to the feeling of her hot, wet pussy milking your cock, to the sound of her ecstatic screams, her needy expression. Your climax building, a deep, hot pressure in your balls. You lean down and kiss her, a rough, sloppy kiss, your tongues tangling as you pound into her relentlessly.

“I’m going to cum, Leeseo—Shit…”

“Me too! Come inside me, oppa! Fill me up!”

Her words are all you need. Grunting low, you unload deep inside her, your body shuddering with the force of your discharge. She screams as your hot seed floods her, her own orgasm shaking her to the core, her inner walls clenching around your cock in a final, blissful spasm.

You collapse on top of her, your forehead resting on hers, both of you panting and cover in thin sweat. The silence returns, broken only by your ragged breaths. After a minute, you slowly, reluctantly, pull out of her. Her juices and your cum spill out, dribbling down the crack of her ass.

She looks at the mess, then up at you, a wicked, satisfied smile spreading across her face.

“That was amazing, oppa,” she says, her voice satisfyingly husky. She reaches out and traces a finger along your jaw. “This will be our little secret. Right?”

Just then, her phone, lying on a nearby bench, buzzes. A message from Jiyeon. ‘On my way back up! They were out of the bear one so I got the one with the kitten. Hope that’s okay!’

Leeseo giggles, a sound that is both innocent and deeply corrupt. “You better get dressed, oppa,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Unnie will be here any second.”

Your mind is a feedback loop of pure static. The message from Jiyeon registers somewhere in the distance, a foghorn from a world you no longer inhabit. This room, right now, is its own universe, smelling of sex and her sweet perfume.

You're still breathing heavily, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. You quickly, clumsily, tuck yourself away and zip your pants, the metal teeth seeming deafeningly loud.

Leeseo, however, moves with a calm grace that is terrifying. She swings her legs off the chair, standing up without a hint of a wobble. A single, pearlescent trail of your mixed fluids runs down the inside of her thigh. She doesn't wipe it away with panic. Instead, she grabs a makeup wipe from the vanity, her movements fluid and practised.

She carefully cleans herself, then smooths down her plaid skirt, adjusting it until it sits perfectly on her hips. With a few deft pats and pulls, she erases any evidence of your frantic, quick-fucking climax. She picks up the discarded stockings from the floor, folds them neatly, and places them in her bag.

In the space of thirty seconds, she transforms. The flushed, screaming, climax-ridden girl is gone, replaced once more by Leeseo, the idol, poised and ready. She glances at her reflection in the mirror, fluffing her hair, and patting her cheeks to even out the colour. There is no trace of the debauched woman who just begged you to fill her up, save for the deep, knowing glint in her eyes when they meet yours in the mirror.

She turns to you. The room is still dense with the realization of what you've just done. A career-ending, life-altering act of utter madness. The panic is beginning to bubble in your chest, cold and sharp. What if Jiyeon notices something? The smell? Your flushed faces? What if Leeseo regrets this and tells someone? Your life as you know it would be over.

As if reading your spiralling thoughts, she closes the distance between you, stepping right into your personal space. She rises onto her tiptoes, her lips brushing against your ear. Her breath is hot, and sweet, sending another shiver down your spine, but this one is laced with ice.

"Don't worry so much, oppa," she whispers, her voice a low, conspiratorial hum that is for you and you alone. "I took a pill this morning."

She pulls back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She gives your chest a playful little pat, right over your frantically beating heart.

The words detonate silently in the space between you. A pill.

It wasn't just a crime of passion. It wasn't a spontaneous, reckless moment that swept you both away. For you, maybe. But for her... it was premeditated.

She woke up this morning, this eighteen-year-old girl, and planned for this possibility. She planned to seduce you. She planned to have you fuck her raw. She took a pill to erase the most significant consequence, a calculated move in a game you didn't even realize you were playing until you had already lost.

You just stand there completely dumbfounded. Your mind struggles to catch up, to process the sheer audacity, the cold-blooded foresight of it all. You look at her, really look at her, and you no longer see the whiny kid or even the seductive woman from moments ago. You see a terrifyingly intelligent, determined individual who gets exactly what she wants, with contingencies in place.

The doorknob turns.

Jiyeon bustles in, holding up a small carton of milk with a cartoon kitten on it. "They were out of the bear! But the kitten is just as good for our superstar, right?" she says, her voice bright and blissfully unaware.

"Thank you, unnie! You're the best!" Leeseo chirps, her voice instantly reverting back to its cute, childish pitch. She takes the milk and gives Jiyeon a quick side hug.

Your world spins back into focus, harsh and terrifyingly clear. You're standing in the corner, your pants hastily fastened, the scent of her climax still faint in the air, your cock still aching with the memory of her tightness.

She shoots you one last glance over Jiyeon's shoulder. It's quick, just a flash, but it's filled with everything: their shared secret, her victory, and a promise of more to come. Then she turns away, completely absorbed in her conversation with her manager about the next filming set.

You remain frozen, a statue in the corner of the room.

What the fuck did you just do?

Seriously. What in the absolute fuck did you just do?

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! :) I just really love all of your works for Hellsing and an idea popped into my mind. Could you write an Alucard x darling!Reader where Integra sends them on a mission to Brazil in disguise as a newlyweds on their honeymoon? I'm just sooo obsessed with his Riocard look, I thought it would be so fun to imagine! <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: To be honest I get you anon. He is so handsome in his RioCard form, with his little glass full of blood and wearing that suit 🤭💕💕. @marieisaghost

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, reader is unsettled by Alucard but both of them keep flirting with one another lol, mention of killing, gn!reader

"Lulu, you travel a lot, don't you?" You turn your face to stare at him, gorgeous smile already on his lips as soon as that little nickname left you. "What is it like in Brazil? How are the people?"

He thought about. Ancient as he was, Alucard was present to see or hear about all major events from humanity. And later on, to visit those same countries, as you two are doing now - hunting for a potentially dangerous vampire who climbed the stairs to the success, he was so important now, so powerful but Integra had her way of getting you and Alucard into one of his big parties.

After a few seconds pondering, Alucard glanced at his glass full of blood, long, dark hair hiding his eyes from you as he chuckled.

"The air smells like golden hour and the birds sing so loud, as if they wish for you to sing among them. The Brazilians are like fairies, if you will, as they can't lie but contour whatever promise they made with polite words and jokes. And the common folk are very affectionate." He sipped from his glass, little trinket of blood running down his lower lip before he could lick it. You laughed at that. "And their words sounds like a gentle song, so familiar yet so distante you can't quite remember where you have heard it."

The gentle hum of the plane's engines filled the cabin, the dim lighting casting soft shadows against the sleek leather seats. You sat beside Alucard, watching the clouds drift by through the small window. A moment goes by before you answer him.

"Quiet poetical, don't you think?" You mused, imagining the country based on his description. "Well, I'm looking forward to see it. We will be able to sightsee after the mission is done, right?"

Alucard turned his head slowly, he was still sipping from his glass, sometimes just shaking it to see the red liquid sway gently. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. He always found your mortal, innocent optimism endearing — if not a bit naive. But he never discouraged it outright. No, he enjoyed watching you dangle the idea of freedom, without realizing he was the one holding the string.

He was the one who chose you for this role. So beautiful and all his, pretending to be his cute little spouse.

“Sightseeing?” Alucard repeated, his voice low, filled with the silky cadence you knew too well. He leaned back further into his seat, fingers steepled together as if considering your words. “That all depends. If the mission goes well and... if you behave, darling.”

You shifted uncomfortably, pretending to be preoccupied with the view outside. Sometimes Alucard took his jokes too far, the line between truth and joke unclear.

“Well, I just thought… if we’re pretending to be newlyweds, we might as well enjoy the facade a little more!” You explained your point of view, trying to sound casual. “A little sightseeing wouldn’t hurt. Husband.”

Alucard’s chuckle was soft but dark, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a beautiful sound yet terrifying in other circumstances. “Oh, you’ve been enjoying this facade more than you admit, darling” He teased, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Playing the role of my beloved spouse… It suits you.”

His words were laced with a possessiveness that you couldn’t ignore. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as you tried to maintain composure under his piercing gaze. Alucard thrived on your uncertainty — on the way you balanced between curiosity and frustration in equal measures. He loved seeing you struggle. You knew that. He was an asshole like that sometimes.

“Maybe,” You replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper and your face heating up. Ultimately it was better to let him have this little win or he'll pout and throw a tantrum the entire time. “But it’s hard to keep up the act sometimes, you’re very convincing. I fear I won't be as convincing as you are.”

Alucard’s smile widened, a dark, predatory gleam flickering in his eyes. He leaned toward you, his cold fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with a delicate yet possessive touch. He seemed like he wanted to say something, a secret passing through his eyes, black long hair hiding his face like a curtain, and then he pulled back.

“Rest now, my love,” Alucard said, his voice softer as he reclined back in his seat but the command was clear. "We still have a few hours until we get there. And perhaps, I’ll indulge you with that sightseeing you’re so fond. There's so very interesting places that are open at night.”

You rolled your eyes. "Aye aye captain."

Yoou reached out, your hand sliding around his arm and tugging him toward you. His eyes widened slightly, not in surprise but in curiosity. You didn’t say a word, there was no need. All that mattered was the closeness, the warmth, even if it came from the cold embrace of a vampire. Without a word, you rested your head against his arm, and he allowed you to whatever you wanted, his lips curling into a soft smirk as he watched you for a few seconds.

/⁠～⁠♡

The private plane had landed hours ago, and the sun now hung low on the horizon, casting the hotel room in a warm, golden glow. You stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the fabric of your outfit, a carefully chosen disguise for the next phase of the mission. The luxurious suite you were in felt almost too extravagant, too different from what you were used but trying to argument with Alucard was near impossível. And he wanted to stay at the most expensive place just for the sake of it.

Greedy vampire, you thought, he wouldn't even be able to sleep. After all, he's used to sleep at morning and you, as a Hellsing soldier, is more than used to sleep in whatever you can lie on during night. Extravagance was not your style.

Behind you, Alucard moved with quiet grace, his eyes fixed on you in the mirror. He had already shed his coat, his shirt untucked slightly, looking every bit the devilish rogue he was. He stepped closer, slipping a gloved hand around your waist, guiding you as you fumbled with the buttons on your collar.

"Let me," He asked, his voice low and smooth, as he brushed your hands away and began fastening the buttons for you. His fingers worked skillfully, but his touch lingered a bit too long. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

"You know, I can dress myself," You teased him, raising an eyebrow at him through the mirror.

"Of course you can," Alucard replied with a smirk, not missing a beat. "But why would I miss the chance to enjoy this view?" His hands slid up to adjust the collar, his eyes flickering with amusement.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

Alucard chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in just a bit closer. "I’m many things, love. Impossible is only one of them." He finished with the last button, his hands lingering on your shoulders, fingers tracing the fabric as though he couldn’t help but touch you. You turned slightly to face him, a playful glint in your eyes.

"So husband, what's the plan?" You teased him, emphasizing the word, adjusting your sleeves as he watched you with that ever-present intensity. "Or you're just want to take care of everything alone while I stay helpless by your side, like a damsel?."

Alucard raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Playing the damsel role certainly is fun but not safe. Besides it's counterproductive. I'II catch our target while you search his office for those documents."

You nodded, trying to think of ways to enter the target's office, but the warmth in Alucard's eyes made it impossible. His thumb traced small circles against your waist, and though you hated to admit it, his presence was comforting in moments like these, when the mission loomed large and the stakes were high. He knew how you soothe your worries and fears with just a few gestures.

"Focus, Alucard," You said, but your voice lacked any real conviction.

"I am focused," He replied smoothly, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Just… not on the mission right now."

You felt your heartbeat quicken, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him just a little, your fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. "You’re incorrigible."

His eyes gleamed as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice a low, teasing purr. "And you love it."

You laughed softly, shaking your head again as you turned back toward the mirror. "You’re lucky you’re helping with this mission. Otherwise, I’d leave you to flirt with yourself.

Alucard chuckled, stepping back slightly, though his hand never left your waist. "Oh, I can flirt with myself just fine. But it’s much more fun with you."

You met his gaze in the mirror, your reflection showing the playful tension between you two. Despite everything, the danger, the complexity of your relationship, moments like this felt oddly natural. Easy, even.

"Fine," you said, adjusting the last piece of your outfit and putting your weapons in their proper places. "After this mission and you taking me to sightsee, you should really take me on a date, Alucard. I wouldn't say no."

Alucard’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand squeezing your waist lightly. "Whatever you want, darling. But until then…" His eyes sparkled mischievously. "We make quite the team, don’t we?"

You couldn’t argue with that. Despite the chaos, despite the danger, there was something undeniably magnetic about being at his side. Even if he drove you crazy half the time and acted strange sometimes.

"Yeah," You said with a sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. "We do."

The night air was crisp as you stepped out of the grand hotel, the city’s lights reflecting off the polished black limousine waiting at the curb. The distant hum of life in the city created a soft backdrop of noise, but here, in front of the sleek vehicle, everything felt quieter, more intimate. Alucard, as always, had his hand lightly resting on your lower back as he guided you toward the car.

“After you, love,” He said smoothly, his voice laced with amusement as he opened the door for you. His crimson eyes gleamed under the streetlights, and even in the dim evening, he looked effortlessly sharp in his tailored suit, dark and dangerously handsome.

You gave him a playful smirk before slipping into the limousine’s spacious interior. The leather seats were cool against your skin as you settled in, and a faint, luxurious scent lingered in the air. Alucard followed, closing the door behind him as he took the seat beside you.

As the driver began pulling away from the curb, the city lights blurred past the tinted windows, creating a dreamlike atmosphere. Alucard stretched his arm along the back of the seat, his fingers lightly brushing against your shoulder in a way that felt casual yet intentional.

“Excited?” hHe asked, his voice low and teasing as his eyes flickered to yours. “Or is it nerves I sense?”

You glanced at him, rolling your eyes slightly. “Excited isn’t the word I’d use. This is a mission, remember? Focus, Alucard.”

He chuckled, his hand sliding down to lightly squeeze your shoulder. “I’m always focused. It’s you who seems to be on edge, dragul meu.” His voice was a playful murmur, but there was that undercurrent of seriousness you knew all too well. He thrived in these high-stakes situations, while you, well, you preferred a little less danger and a little more simplicity.

You preferred a better plan, you preferred having more allies. Yet, you had to make it do with just Alucard by your side. Either way, you knew he wouldn't let you hurt yourself.

“I’m not on edge,” You retorted lightly, turning to face him fully. “I’m just thinking about the plan. We’re supposed to be subtle, blend in, gather intel. You remember the whole ‘don’t draw attention to ourselves’ part, right?”

Alucard’s lips curled into that familiar, devilish smirk. “Subtlety isn’t always the most fun, but I suppose I can behave for one night.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Of course, if things get boring, I might have to… stir the pot a little.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I prefer the term ‘charming,’” He corrected you, eyes gleaming mischievously.

The limousine cruised through the city, the lights outside glowing brighter as you approached the heart of the bustling nightlife. The party you were heading to was in one of the city’s most elite venues — a towering glass building that loomed in the distance, sparkling against the night sky. The event was exclusive, crawling with high-society types, all hiding secrets beneath their polished exteriors. You and Alucard were here to uncover one of those secrets.

As the limousine neared the grand entrance, you adjusted your clothes, making sure everything was in place. Alucard watched you with an almost predatory gleam in his eyes, though there was a softness in the way his gaze lingered.

“You look stunning,” He murmured, his voice softer now, devoid of the usual teasing edge. “They won’t know what hit them.”

You met his eyes, feeling a flutter in your chest despite yourself. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smirked, leaning in just a bit closer. “Just ‘not so bad?’ I think I deserve more credit than that.”

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “Let’s just get through this without any chaos, alright? Then I’ll give you all the credit you want.”

The limousine came to a smooth stop in front of the towering venue, the driver stepping out to open the door for you both. Alucard was out first, offering his hand to help you out, his grip firm but gentle. As you stepped out onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the murmurs of the crowd were already starting.

He pulled you close, his arm slipping around your waist as you both made your way toward the entrance. You could feel the weight of his presence beside you, commanding and magnetic.

“We’ll be the perfect couple tonight,” Alucard whispered into your ear as you ascended the stairs, his breath warm against your skin. “Just follow my lead.”

You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a small smile. “I’m used to that by now.”

With that, you both stepped through the grand doors into the glittering party, where the real game was about to begin.

[yuurayuura]

last on the line

👩🏻‍🍳 you hate being a line cook, so why do you find yourself looking forward to the shifts?

PAIRING 🍳🔪🔥 sungchan x fem!reader GENRES & AUS 🍳🔪🔥 line cook au, attempts at humor, yearning, fluff, slight angst, reader is a little hot-headed WORD COUNT 🍳🔪🔥 6.1k WARNINGS 🍳🔪🔥 suggestive, language AUTHOR’S NOTE 🍳🔪🔥 feedback appreciated! this is an old story i polished up. im going feral for sungchan lately woof woof woof

If you wanted a descriptive image of the environment: There's a lot of banging, first of all, that's a good place to start. Something is always banging, clacking, sizzling, burning, beeping, or yelling.

Loud.

"I'm gonna fucking kill myself," you say, and Sungchan's head pops around a corner. "How many?"

You look at the order. "Party of fifteen. I'm serious, I want you to carve my heart out and put it on a plate. Give them that instead. Slice it in fifteen pretty pieces."

He chuckles, and rolls his shoulders, preparing, ducking out of the way of someone passing behind with a hot pan.

Line cook. That is the last occupation you ever imagined you would have, because in every conceivable way, it is a fucking nightmare.

"You know I'm not that good with knives," Sungchan remarks, "but I could make a little soup? Heart...y soup?"

Somehow, that makes it better. You grin at him and he laughs, before running off to save his potatoes in the oven. Party of fifteen, you think, with burning hate, I hope you all die.

Sungchan is good to have around, and though you're reluctant to admit it, he makes you feel less suicidal in the kitchen. When he has a day off, it seems like the shift will never end.

He's nice to everyone, always brightening the room in grim situations, doing quick quips with the other cooks, and comforting the frightened new waiters. Everyone likes him, and keeps commenting on how he should be on the floor charming guests, which makes the tips of his ears flare red.

But no, he sticks to the kitchen, even if it's not his calling. It's a mystery to you.

"Fucking hell," you mumble, dizzy from the heat and the cleaning fumes, looking at the grill. Sparkling, for a few hours at least, before it's inevitably dirty again tomorrow.

"You in for drinks tonight?" Seunghan asks, wiping his face. "I could use one."

"I don't know," you say, hesitant. The best thing would be to go home; it always is.

Yet that rarely happens.

"Come on, Y/n, it's no fun without you," Sungchan grins. "First shot on me!"

Seunghan rolls his eyes fondly. "And now you’re joining us, right?"

"Alright, whatever," you huff, and Sungchan salutes, stalking off to get shots from the bar. Seunghan gives you a look that is easier to ignore when you're this tired.

Some of the waiters have already gathered out by the bar, and outside smoking. The lights are out over the floor, but the string lights around the counter are still on, blurring people out, making everyone somewhat fuzzy around the edges.

You laugh at some waiter's joke when Sungchan arrives with not two, but four shots, and promptly downs one.

"For you," he says, with a silly little bow, making you laugh.

"Two shots? You trying to get me drunk?"

"I would never," he says, blinking those big eyes.

"Do another," you laugh.

"Hey, you're still alive," you chuckle, when Sungchan sits down next to you on the curb out back hours later, swaying a little.

"Of course," he grins, his eyes crescent. "You... guys wouldn't last a minute without me."

"Yeah. But you're off tomorrow though, right?"

"Aw, right."

"Any cool plans?"

"Sleeeeeeeping," he sing-songs, making you laugh again.

"Hey," he says, swaying again. "Cute. Your laugh."

"You're that drunk, huh?" you grin, shaking your head. "That's it, I'm calling an uber for you."

It's a slow night, just a few tables are taken, and one of the waiters calls in sick. You draw straws in the kitchen to see which of you has to cover, and it's just your luck that you choose the shortest one. Fortunately your bestie Jina is in the bar, but unfortunately for you, Wonbin the waiter is also on duty tonight. So there really isn't much to do other than escape the thick tension whenever the two of them get too close.

Thank god for Sungchan, your saving grace, last on the line tonight so he's always the one plating your dishes up.

"Two halibut, one beef rare," he confirms, finishing up the garnish. It's just him and Sohee in the kitchen now, after they sent Eunseok home and you out on the floor. There really was no need for three cooks, and it's clear the two of them are having a good time, listening to Korean hip hop from the nineties on the shitty Bluetooth speaker.

"How is this music relatable to you kids, you weren't even born," you remark, and Sohee gasps.

"Whatever, grandma."

"Hey, at least I was a baby back then," you tease, and Sungchan looks at you, mock offended.

"Relatability isn't about whether or not you were there," he says, like an old sage. "It's about the message... the emotion... the soul..."

"Thanks," you laugh, picking up the plates. "You guys are weird."

After you leave, Sohee rolls his eyes at Sungchan, poking his side to get him to move for the next order. "Dude, you're embarrassing yourself with this."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, grabbing the order from Sohee's hand. "Get chopping, knife boy."

"These people have got to stop ordering mojitos and daiquiris," Jina sighs, carefully placing the drinks on a tray. "The blender is giving me a headache."

"I wish they would just leave already," you agree, knowing that even if they did, you couldn't close up shop. Unfortunately, that doesn't work in a restaurant, but it's a nice thought.

You manage to escape when you see Wonbin approaching the bar for the hundredth time that night, no doubt with another made-up request for napkins or an extra spoon, straw or glass.

Nearing closing time, you hang out in the kitchen door, chatting with Sungchan when you see Wonbin approaching the bar again.

"This is more entertaining than most movies," Sungchan remarks, as you two watch him lean on the counter and Jina gives him an amused look.

"Wish he would just ask her out already," you nod, chewing on a toothpick. "It's been excruciating all night, you know. I wonder where he puts all the extra stuff he asks for that no one needs."

Sungchan laughs, while Sohee clears his throat pointedly behind you, and stops scrubbing down a pan. "You know what they say about stones in glass houses, right?"

Suddenly you both remember you still have cleaning to do.

"Fuck, ow, shit," Sungchan gasps.

It's one of those days where everything goes wrong. The digital order system collapses, leaving you having to write old-school notes. That one isn't crippling; you manage to get a good system going and Shotaro finds a bell in a cupboard that you hang up and hit every time the food is ready. Then the payment system collapses. The power in the kitchen keeps dipping. To top it off, you look at Sungchan in the other end of the kitchen, holding up his bloody hand.

"Who let him touch the knives?" you yell, making your way past the four other cooks on call tonight with haste you didn't know you had left.

"Sorry, I- I just needed an extra filet, I forgot," Seunghan says.

"The meat..." Sungchan says meekly, like that is important right now. You throw the whole cutting board in the trash, meat and all. That's not a priority.

"Seunghan, Sohee, finish up and cut the last damn filet, Anton, Eunseok, do the plating, and chop those potatoes I had started. We're going in the back."

There's little drops of blood on the floor that Seunghan fortunately understands that he has to clean up without you having to snap at him. You grab the first aid kit in one hand and lead Sungchan by the other, back to the break room where there's no one else.

"You know you can't fucking slice for shit, what the fuck are you doing cutting filet," you bite, practically flinging Sungchan down and onto the couch.

He wisely doesn't respond, and watches you rummage through the kit to find gauze and cleaning supplies.

"I can do it myself you know-" he starts, but shuts his mouth after an icy stare.

"I'm fucking doing it so I know it's good enough," you snap, "because apparently this is what happens when you work with children, who can't..."

You trail off and wonder why you're so emotional about this. Sure, it's been a day from hell, and this is just enough to send you over the edge. But even so, even if you can't see yourself from the outside, you know this is an overreaction.

"I'm sorry," Sungchan says, voice barely above a whisper as you wrap his hand in gauze. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

"Don't."

"Why are you so angry? I just tried to help, the orders were piling up and Seunghan was struggling to get everything done, so I thought I should help out. Is that so fucking wrong?"

He gets up and you're so angry, it doesn't make sense but you are, that you consider asking him to go home. Maybe you should be the one to go.

"Thanks," he mumbles, looking confused, hurt, and defeated, raising his bandaged hand.

"I'm angry," you realize, "because you could have seriously hurt yourself."

Sungchan stops on the way out.

"Those knives are really sharp, and you could have cut deep, through muscle. Nerves. If you had cut your tendons, you could have destroyed your hand. Jesus Christ, you could have lost a finger."

"Y/n," Sungchan says, carefully. "I suck, but I'm not gonna cut off my fingers..."

"You do suck," you agree, with a little smile. "Why can't you work on the floor? Seriously. You know you'd be good at it."

"I... don't know," he says. "I like it in the kitchen."

He looks at you with his doe eyes, and you feel yourself soften, shoulders coming down to somewhere resembling their usual height. His hair is that light brown shade you like and shaggy enough that it makes him look soft and pretty.

"No more knives," you warn, pulling yourself out of it. "I mean it."

"No more knives, yes, ma'am," he echoes.

"And the next slow day, I'm sending you to Eunseok for knife school. Got it? You're a hazard."

"Hazard, knife school, got it," he says, nodding sternly to himself, and it makes you smile again.

"I'm sorry, Chanie. Forgive me?"

"Oh, you just love me, nothing to forgive."

So, back to being brazenly confident again, that's good, you think.

There's tension in the kitchen when you get back, but a weight seems to lift when they see no one is angry or bleeding anymore.

You apologize to them for overreacting, and for five whole minutes, there's respectful peace. Until Eunseok decides to speak up.

"So, you two had a little... spat? A... quarrel?"

There's no doubt he intentionally emitted a word - a fact that no one misses. Anton snickers.

"Shut it," you say, biting back a smile.

Usually in a kitchen, even if it's just a regular restaurant like this one, there would be a hierarchy. Maybe if someone had gone to culinary school for more than a single year (Eunseok) there would be, but there isn't. So, naturally, the most experienced one takes charge, at least a little bit, and usually things flow on their own.

You all know each other enough that dividing up tasks is intuitive - like, no knives for Sungchan. Everyone knows this, and he's got the scars to prove it.

"There's really no need for you to be here today," you say, glancing over at Sungchan's still injured hand. It's been professionally wrapped at the hospital, and he's wearing lots of plastic and a glove to protect the food, but still. "You can go home and heal, we can call Sohee in."

"I'm healing fine," he says, stirring the sauce in trained motions, like that simple task is any indication at all of the state of the arm.

It's right before the dinner rush, and as usual, the people on prepping shifts have not prepped enough. Somehow, they always get it wrong, and everyone knows it's not their fault because it varies so much from day to day, but it's still incredibly annoying.

"We're short on potatoes, garlic, stock... Most everything," Eunseok says, grimacing as he reads off the list and looks at the numbers of reservations for the night.

"And pasta," Sungchan adds, elbows deep in the mixer to get the dough out. Eunseok sighs.

"But we have enough fish for three days," you say, stacking filets into neat little piles. "That's something."

Turns out, you didn't even have enough fish. Half of it was put in the freezer, which turns out to be a huge mistake, leaving you having to try and thaw several kilos of halibut and salmon at the last minute.

Then Shotaro, who's hosting tonight, comes through the door to tell you thirty unannounced guests have arrived, just as Anton's huge pot of pasta tips over.

It's not his fault. No one told him that the counter he put the pot on had a bad leg that was meant to be fixed next week, and could in no way support a heavy pot. So now there's pasta and water all over the floor of the kitchen, Anton looks like he's about to cry, and Shotaro slips on a piece of tagliatelle.

"I..." you start, but no more words come out. Instead, you put down the plates you were garnishing, and slide between pieces of pasta on the floor out the door that leads to the backyard.

Sungchan finds you there, behind the loading dock to the warehouse.

You don't want to cry, but there's no getting past it today. So Sungchan sits down next to you and puts an arm carefully around your shoulders.

"I don't want this job," you sniffle, and Sungchan squeezes your shoulder. "I just have to pay my bills."

"I know," he assures, leaning his head on yours.

"I don't even like cooking," you continue, wiping tears on your sleeve. The uniform is dirty now, anyway. "It's one fucking thing after another in there. I'm done."

"Hey," Sungchan says, his voice much calmer than you've felt for ages. "Tomorrow we can quit together, how about that."

He nudges you gently, and you can't help but laugh at the mental image of the two of you marching together to hand in resignations.

"But right now, we need you. You're that load-bearing leg that was missing under the pasta pot. We're falling apart."

"You're funny," you smile. "But I'm not, Eunseok is there. And Seunghan."

"Yeah, but we still need you to tell them to stop bickering, and find some good music to clean up to. You're the only one who knows where the kitchen's phone book is, to call the repair man. And where to find those band aids with the animals on them to make Shotaro smile again. I'll go with you, and we'll get through it together. You know what a great team we are, right?"

You look at him in the low light, beautiful, tired from the shift, and still pulling through. Taking the time to sit out here with you, coax you to come back inside, and insist that you're an important part of the team. Whether that is true or not.

Suddenly you feel like crying again, for different reasons.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," you say, and watch his face light up in a brilliant smile. "Thank you, Chanie."

"Anytime," he says, like he means it.

When you get back inside, Eunseok has already set the team in motion to clean up, and Shotaro is only a little freaked out by the scratch on his forehead. You find the band aids as promised, and help Sungchan calm Anton down, who is in a little bit of a spiral.

In the end, it turns out the thirty guests weren't even eating, they just hung out at the bar. With a little help behind the counter, everything goes smoothly for the rest of the night.

There's not even a question of drinks tonight, it's just Shotaro immediately grabbing beers from the fridge and getting his little writing pad out to keep inventory, before he starts handing them out.

"Yuck," you complain, after a tentative sip of the beer. Sungchan laughs.

"Give it here, I'll steal you something from the bar."

Jina gives you a look, people have been doing that a lot lately, and it's starting to get to you.

"Sungchan, you don't have to-"

He's gone with a flash of that signature grin, your beer in his hand.

"How's that working out?" Jina asks, less than subtly.

"Sohee said something the other day about stones in glass houses," you shrug, and Jina's smile fades somewhat.

"Alright, I'm leaving it."

"Fair game."

It's not like you and Sungchan always stick together. Most times, if Jina's been working, you hang out until she goes home, and then you somehow end up by Sungchan's side or vice versa. It's just a thing that happens, and if Sungchan isn't there, you hang out with Anton, Seunghan or really anyone else on the kitchen staff.

So, you don't really get why it's become this thing that people seem to be noticing, because of course, you're bound to have friends that you like hanging out with more than others, and that you have better chemistry with. Doesn't mean that there's necessarily something more going on.

"This is my own creation," Sungchan says, sitting down next to you with a drink in hand that looks experimental, to put it gently. "It's rum, some other booze, something green, lime, and a dash of something from a small bottle."

"Sounds promising," you say, dryly, accepting the drink.

You take a sip, against your better judgment, cringing at the blend. "This is awful. Thank you."

"Cheers," he grins.

It's a bit unclear how it happens, but you find yourself later that night on Sungchan's couch, looking up at the pictures on his walls.

He lives in a big building, and you've never been there before, only ever heard tales of Sungchan and Shotaro's famous after-parties. They live separately, but the apartments face each other. With the doors open, it's ridiculous how well it works for a late night get together. The crowd naturally splits up into smaller groups, Shotaro has the dance floor, Sungchan has snacks and some movie playing on the TV. People come and go in between, but you find yourself content and sleepy, sinking further into the pillows.

On their own, your eyes find Sunchan across the room. He's talking to someone from the bar, but he's looking at you, so softly it almost seems unfair. When your gazes meet, a smile spreads on his face, like a secret between you. He has the sense to look a little embarrassed about it, as you turn back to the pictures, unable to stop smiling.

You're drunk enough that you can admit how beautiful he looks tonight, all soft in his hoodie and pajama pants, a look you never would have got to see had you not been at his place. It feels strangely intimate, even if there's tons of other people around, it feels like it might actually be just the two of you. The experience of hearing his laugh trill across the room, mixed with the barely audible TV and the music from across the hall, is so comforting, you could fall asleep here and be perfectly happy.

Tomorrow you work late, and it feels like for once you don't have a single worry.

You must have closed your eyes, because distantly you can hear Sungchan's voice, and feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, sleepy," he says, and you crack an eye open to find him next to you on the couch, looking fond and amused, and maybe some other things you're not reading into.

"Mm," you hum, and resist the urge to tuck yourself into his side, see what it feels like to fall asleep on him. It looks very inviting. "You look like a big pillow right now."

Sungchan chuckles, his eyes practically sparkling. "I bet. You want me to call an uber for you?"

You look at him, and it seems like time slows. His hand is in yours—when did it get there? It's just the two of you, nothing else really matters, and you really, really don't want the moment to end.

"Do you want me to go?" you ask, in a voice that feels a little too vulnerable, watching how he swallows. Is he nervous?

"No," he says, after a beat, the tips of his ears red. "Selfishly, I don't."

"Okay," you say, and you both crack a smile, not really knowing what to do with that information.

"You could... I mean, my bed is..." Sungchan scratches his neck, and shakes his head, embarrassed. "I'm starting over. If you want to stay here, I can take the couch."

He's still holding your hand, and it feels so nice, thumb tracing a little pattern.

Any other time, you would have gone home. You certainly wouldn't want to put Sungchan out like this, make him sleep on his own couch. But you're so tired, and comfortable, and tonight the thought of leaving him is unfathomable.

You let him lead you to his bedroom, and the lull of noise from the party gets quieter, until it's just a soft hum far away. Sungchan says something about a charger for your phone, but he looks so good, and you feel so much, it's a bit hard to concentrate.

Finally, you climb under his covers and the whole bed smells like him- it's like being wrapped in Sungchan, except he stands on the side and looks at you with a little smile.

"Goodnight," he says, so quiet and gentle, it's barely above a whisper.

"Chanie," you say, before you can stop yourself. "Can you stay? Just a little while?"

He doesn't even say anything, just smiles, and gets right in on the other side. Wishful thinking makes it seem like he was waiting for you to ask.

His hand finds yours again, and you sigh contently.

"I'm sorry for asking a lot tonight," you mumble, and Sungchan's eyes are so beautiful, shining in the faint light from the window.

"You haven't. Besides, you can ask anything of me," he smiles, squeezing your hand. "Always."

"Two salmon, one Alfredo," Wonbin announces, to Anton's soft "copy that," on the other side of the plating station.

It's been three hours since the shift started, you're all in the zone, working like this is what you've done all your lives. Anton is the starter, Eunseok does meats, you're on sides and condiments and Sungchan does the plating.

There is an undeniable tension between you and Sungchan, it's something unfinished. Gnawing.

When you woke up that morning, you initially thought you had a strange, but good dream—until you looked around and realized it all actually happened. You lied there for a moment, listening to Sungchan's soft snores next to you, and had a small, internal crisis.

Eventually, you had to get home to shower and get dressed before work. You decided it was best to let him know, and not disappear like some stranger in the night. Besides, it's not like anything really happened, it was all platonic-ish, and you could probably play it off as nothing.

That was, until he turned around and looked at you, sleepy-eyed and smiling lazily. He'd lifted an arm to shield his eyes from the light, all tan and beautiful. Eyes blinking at you slowly.

There's only so long you can fool yourself.

You had rushed out of there, assured him everything was fine, but apparently very unconvincingly, because he also texted you on the way home ´are u sure ur fine?? ur good?'

And it was fine, of course.

Wasn't it?

It's quiet in the kitchen, save for the usual sizzling, clanging, and chopping. Anton and Eunseok share a pointed glance that goes unnoticed by you and Sungchan.

You put on some music, but don't really listen. Only focus on reducing the sauce, checking the potatoes and pasta, and keeping time on the four things you have cooking at once.

"Y/n," Anton says, to no reaction. "Y/n?"

"Shit, sorry," you mumble, smiling at him. "What were you saying?"

There's a late delivery of groceries that you need to accept, and help load out back. It's always a welcome break, so they let you do it. While you're gone, the boys have a tête-à-tête.

Sungchan knows they're going to ask, so he busies himself stirring and checking the things you left. Eunseok clears his throat.

"What exactly happened between you two?"

"Yeah," Anton chimes, a worried line appearing on his forehead. "It's normal for her to be quiet, but you never shut up. What's going on?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, which is only half a lie. It's met with unimpressed looks on both ends.

"Did you do something weird?" Eunseok says, and Anton nods like that must be it.

"I didn't do anything!" he exclaims, exasperated. "If... If I did, I don't know exactly what."

A waiter comes by to pick a few dishes up, so they all shut it, and he looks around nervously in the silence before he leaves.

Sungchan explains the situation, how you stayed over, made him get in the bed with you even after he said he could sleep on the couch. He leaves out the part where he held your hand, because he fears it might be what they nail him for. Really, he could drunkenly hold any of his friends' hands at any time (even if he knows this is different).

They look at him like he's a moron, but the reason is unclear to him.

"What?"

"How long are you going to drag this out?" Eunseok groans. "Just tell her. Do something. What are you waiting for?"

He tries to protest, get them to understand that he doesn't know for sure how you feel, and Anton shakes his head in a laugh.

"Everyone knows she likes you. Are you that dense?"

In that moment, the back door swings open, and you find them all turning back to their respective tasks at lightening speed. Sungchan's ears are bright red, Anton looks fondly annoyed, and Eunseok has a mirthful glint in his eyes.

"Hey, Sungchanie, this is about to burn," you say, carefully nudging his shoulder when you pass. It's more than you've talked all night.

"Yes, chef, sorry, chef!" he says, mock-saluting you, and grinning huge when it makes everyone laugh.

After that, things thankfully go back to normal, even if the pink blush on his ears persists.

"No, no, no," you protest, when Eunseok suggests post-shift drinks in the bar. "What are you people made of? We just drank a bunch yesterday."

"Some more than others," he smirks, receiving a half-hearted slap on the arm.

"Either way, no thanks," you say, sticking your tongue out at him. "I can finish up here, you guys are free to go."

Anton and Eunseok look expectedly at Sungchan, who almost feels a little ashamed that he anyway goes "I'll help!" just for being so obvious.

The two of you are left alone, and even if you small talk, the tension is back full force. The counters are clean, so you get to scrubbing the grill, cleaning empty containers, putting up chairs in the break room. It's the last shift of the week, and fortunately the overtime is paid.

The last thing to do is tidy and check the pantry. It's not really a job for two people, it's kind of cramped in there, and you keep knocking your shoulders together.

It feels like words are burning in your throat. You want to say something so badly, want to reach out and pull him in, feel his warmth. Stand so close you have to look up to meet his gaze.

You can't do any of those things though, for fear of making things weird, losing a friend, and messing up the dynamic for the other people you two have to meet on a daily basis.

This really shouldn't be that complicated.

"I'll lock up," you say, and Sungchan looks like he wants to say something too, but can't quite get it out.

Maybe that's for the best.

"Let me walk you home, at least," he says, chewing his lip like he does when there's something on his mind. He stands in the backyard while you input the code for the alarm, and when you turn to face him again, he looks almost forlorn.

You walk in relative silence, Sungchan with his hands in his pockets. In what seems like no time at all, you arrive at the building where you live.

You almost can't bear to look at him, for fear of what you'll see in his eyes. It's a strange dilemma, because it feels like he's trying to be considerate by not saying anything. You can't know for sure, but that's how it seems, and maybe that's why you also can't speak. A pitiful cycle.

Sungchan kicks a pebble on the steps and watches it bounce away from the curb.

"I'll see you Monday?" he says, and the sad twinge in his voice is what finally makes you look into his eyes.

"Yeah," you breathe, watching how the wind moves his hair, brushing the side of his face. You want to reach out and run your fingers through it, imagining how he would lean into it and close his eyes. His hands are still securely in the pockets of his jacket, and you wonder if they long to reach out, like yours do.

He's beautiful, like he always is and always has been, with his brown doe eyes and cheeks pink from the cold.

"See you Monday, Chanie."

He nods, and watches you step inside, biting the corner of his lip as he leaves you to your tormenting thoughts.

The days off are horrible. You keep pacing around your apartment, missing meals, spiraling. Monday comes incredibly slow and painful, so much so that you show up forty-five minutes before the shift starts. Suffice to say you're surprised when you find you aren't even the first one there, seeing Sungchan's scuffed Adidas haphazardly abandoned in front of his locker.

So much for avoiding the inevitable.

To dread going to work is not a new feeling by any means, but to feel that way because you have to face Sungchan is a new low point in your life. That always used to cheer you up, before.

You find him by some mysterious instinct, maybe the same innate magnetism that always has you ending up next to each other. He's got the radio on playing oldies in the kitchen while he stacks boxes in the storage room. You allow yourself two seconds of looking at his broad back before you make yourself known.

"Hi," you say, trying not to startle him.

He turns with big eyes. "Hi? Is the shift starting already?"

"No, no," you assure, sitting down on a nearby crate. "It's still forty minutes away. I'm just early, but not as early as you, I guess. When did you get here?"

Even in the low light, you can see the tips of his ears turn pink.

"Uh, like, an hour ago," he says, sheepish. "I couldn't sleep, anyway."

"Me neither," you confess, smiling even if it's not particularly funny.

He's already got his uniform on, the white fabric making his tan skin look even tanner. His sleeves are rolled up, and his free hand twists anxiously on a loose thread. Neither of you know where to look.

This won't do, you realize; you can't shut up about something for fear of fucking things up and making it weird between you, if that's going to happen anyway - for no good reason. If your friendship has to suffer, it should be for more than this.

"We should talk," you say, and Sungchan looks at you with his deer in the headlights look again.

You meet him halfway, and he looks genuinely scared for something you don't quite know. It makes you smile, because it seems he thinks you're going to tell him you're dying, or something. The smile seems to relax him somewhat.

You mean to say that he means a lot to you, and that's why this is scary, and difficult. It means potentially losing someone you care for deeply, not to mention there's a reason you shouldn't date coworkers, etcetera. But maybe that applies more if you actually like the job, and want to keep it.

Of course, the words won't come.

Sungchan looks at you so intently. There's a hint of a smile on his own lips now, like he can see the gears turning in your head. Suddenly, it's like you're transported back to that night, when you were alone in a crowded room, and all you wanted to was to lean in and feel his lips against yours.

Before you can do much to realize it, you find your body moving. And when Sungchan understands what you're doing, there's no turning back.

You crash together, and Sungchan gasps into your mouth, hands finding your waist to pull you closer. You thread your fingers through the short hair at his nape, and feel your pulse race to impossible heights as you press against the shelves.

He grins at you when you get some distance.

"I can't believe you," he mumbles, hands in yours, ears burning red. "I was sure that would never happen."

"I was too," you admit, almost worried again when you start thinking. But before you can get into it, Sungchan pulls you in for a hug, holding you tight.

"We'll figure it out together, like we always do," he says, sure as anything. "We're a great team, aren't we?"

"The best," you say, into his neck, feeling increasingly emotional. "You're the best."

There's no time to figure much out right there, because the rest of the staff are bound to start clocking in any minute.

For the rest of the day, it's a secret, not that you're excellent at hiding it, but it seems no one really catches on.

Sungchan follows you into the pantry after lunch and steals a heated kiss, and all in all, it's the best day at work you've ever had.

"What's going on?~" Anton sing-songs, leaning against Shotaro's fridge as you mix a drink, some ABBA remix on the speakers in the living room.

"Don't know what you mean, Ton," you smile, slightly guilty, thoughts already drifting to Sungchan and how good he looks tonight.

Anton rolls his eyes. "Your drink is trash. I'll mix it for you."

You watch him redo the drink with surprising finesse, rummaging around Shotaro's fridge more familiarly than you would dare to.

"I'll give it to you if you spill the beans," he smiles, evilly, for someone so sweet.

You laugh. "Enjoy your drink, Anton."

"Fine," he pouts, handing it to you.

"I'll tell you when there's something to tell," you promise.

You're not avoiding Sungchan. On the contrary, you want to be glued to his side like a koala, smell his mouth-watering perfume and kiss his neck. But it's too much too soon, you haven't had a chance to catch up since the shift, and you know everyone's eyes are on you two.

That's why you're keeping your distance, to try and seem more nonchalant than you are. But you still shoot him brilliant smiles when your eyes meet, so he won't get the wrong idea. He seems to get it, and maybe he's thinking the same thing you are.

As the night progresses, and the alcohol content in your blood gets higher, this becomes exceedingly difficult.

Inevitably, you meet in Sungchan's kitchen by accident, and again the tension is astronomical. This time, though, it's not uncertain and anxious, just hot and electric and wonderful.

The lighting is low in there, and unless someone else comes in, no one will see how he pins you against the counter, hands firmly on your hips.

"This is killing me," he admits, pupils blown out, squeezing you like it's something he can't help or control.

You should talk, maybe go on a real date, away from people, to figure out what this is and where it's going. But there's no way to do that right now, and there's no time. The places he's touching you are on fire, you need to feel him, need him closer.

It's not that reckless. You already know each other to a certain extent, you're already friends, there's a foundation to build on.

"Take me to your room," you say, not really meaning for it to sound like a commando, but Sungchan's eyes widen anyway, and maybe you file that information away for later.

"Aye, aye," he smiles, his cheeks red.

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Headcannons: Nightcrawler // Sex

a/n: I'm almost out of ideas for headcannons, I wanted to pump out a few more just because they're easy for me to write and get used to writing specific characters. I promised more of our favorite blue teleporter so, here he is. These are fairly basic, for more descriptive or specific things they won't be in this format, more as actual fics instead of quick headcannons. Written as a gender-neutral reader. I hope you enjoy <3 Not edited please ignore grammar mistakes.

Minors DNI. 18+ under the cut.

Whether it's your first time in general or not, the first time sleeping with Kurt is something he takes very seriously. He wants to make sure you enjoy yourself, and he wants to make sure he doesn't hurt you.

He likes to make sure the set up is all done before you even come into the room. He goes all out for your first time, no hasty habits. He will keep in mind any preferences, but he will probably do something along the lines of candles or any scents you like in the room, soft mood lighting, and making sure everything is perfect.

"I did my best, liebling. Perhaps I have gone overboard..." he would mutter, a little embarrassed, but it was from the good of his heart.

Kurt likes to take his time with you, he begins with massaging you, wanting you to completely relaxed with him. His hands are soft yet firm and know just the right amount of pressure to do when he rubs you. "Relax, I will make sure you enjoy yourself tonight...just melt into me, ja?"

When he turns you on your back, he will lean down, softly kissing you. His lips are gentle and slow, feeling yours without the need to rush. Sensual kisses fill your senses as he continues to press into yours, his tongue shyly caressing your bottom lip before he pushes it inside.

His tongue explores your mouth, your tongue fights his with little force, you let him take the lead. He smiles against your lips as you try to playfully press against his tongue, finding it cute.

When he pulls back, those kisses increase and begin to travel down your body. He leaves hot kisses along your jaw and neck, suckling and biting lightly where he can, but being mindful of his sharp teeth.

The foreplay lasts a long time, he makes sure you have at least one orgasm before moving on to the main event of the night.

His cock is beading, gently rubbing himself up and down your entrance. "Are you ready for me?" he questions, placing a kiss to your temple, his cock head positioning and slowly pressing into you.

He inches slowly, hissing at the tightness, his cheek pressed against yours while his arms hold onto you. His tail cradles you as he sheaths himself to the hilt, he twitches and throbs inside you.

"Ah - mein Gott! You are squeezing so tight..." he rasps softly into you, his hips staying still for a few seconds so you can adjust to him before he pulls back and experimentally gives you one thrust. When he hears you moan, he takes that as encouragement and continues his thrusting at a steady speed.

His hands caress your hips and hold them as his own snap into yours. He lets out soft moans and pants, his thrusts are slow enough for you to feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. The feeling of him stretching you as he moves at such a perfect speed is intoxicating.

He leans over you, his legs press into the back of your thighs as his hips are driven a bit more, his cock pushing inside at a slightly rougher pace. He will go rougher and a little harder after a few minutes, or if you as him to.

"So needy, you have a gluttonous hole, you swallow me..." he looks down and watches himself disappear with each thrust. "You know, mein kleiner schatz, gluttony is a sin~"

He grins as he finds himself driving more and more into you, "Fret not, for I am a priest and I am more than capable of forgiving you of your sins..." he purrs, his fuzzy body gently grinding into yours as his thrusts increase.

He may flip you to a new position, he may not, depending on how intense the sex is becoming. For the most part, he does like to watch your face contort in pleasure, watching you blush and whine for him. He also likes getting the opportunity to kiss you whenever he can.

He makes sure you cum first. He will rub you or jerk you however he can. His hands gently massage your body and find those sweet spots that make you jerk beneath him. He goes until those pretty whines come from your lips and then he keeps it up until you are shaking through a powerful orgasm.

When he finally orgasms, he buries himself inside you and releases there, his jaw slack and his curly hair messy atop his head, his indigo cheeks blushed purple. Those pretty yellow eyes barely open as he stiffens with his orgasm, his back straining as he becomes rigid.

Two panting bodies, he looks down at you and smiles. His nose brushes yours as he shows you affection and love. "Ich liebe dich." he whispers, slowly pulling out and wrapping his arms around you, carrying you to the bathroom.

After some heavy clean up, he gives you a moment alone to do anything you might want privacy for, and he will make sure to ready the bedroom and clean up anything.

"This way, liebe...you were so wonderful...let me take care of you now." he whispers, guiding you to a clean bed and laying you down. He loves to hold you after everything is done, his hands rub up and down your body, any sore muscles taken care of by his gentle massages.

He can be quite fussy after sex, asking if you need a drink or something to eat, if you're comfortable, if you need anything at all. But you like how he is, it makes you feel all the more loved.

Eventually, the evening ends with you two sleeping with one another, you are tucked into his body as he holds you, his arms keeping you cradled against him, his nose buried in your hair or crook of your neck, and of course that tail is always wrapped around you somehow.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[unveranosinseb0514]

Jenson Button: Tv Time

Pairing: Jenson Button x F!reader

Summary: You and Jenson decided to watch a movie together on the couch but things take a different turn and he seems to be interested in something else.

Tw: Minors dni!!!! 18+ Only, Smut, fingering (f receiving), cum eating, Jenson's a bit whipped, teasing (it's Jenson, y'all), a bit fluffy, a little praising, it's kinda...descriptive, sub!reader, dom!jenson, think that's all for now, let me know if i'm forgetting something.

Words: 6k (something around that)

Masterlist

You slowly walked down the stairs, after getting settled in a room between Sebastian and Fernando, knowing that there you could sleep without any noise bothering, both are extremely silent, so it's about to feel like heaven sleeping next to them, it's been a few weeks since you're having a light sleep, any noise might wake you up, and the other two are kinda loud even without meaning to. Suddenly, you stopped at the last step of the stair, catching a glimpse of the last beam of sunlight on the sky, smiling gently.

The house was on the best position on the top of the hill, being relatively high as well, so you could clearly see the sun touching the green hill from the distance, you always appreciated little things and little moments like this, and was tempted to hop on the kitchen island to observe the spectacle of nature before your eyes when you heard a familiar noise coming from the living room. "Sponge Bob...?" You commented quietly to yourself, making a face, walking slowly on the polished floor, the flip-flops doing the minimal noise.

The television was on with Button thrown on the couch, the hand on the remote control, while on the television, Sponge Bob made Krabby Patties. The show was ending but you saw enough to bite your lip and trying to prevent a laugh from getting out, it was an adorable scene, he sure looked bored, not with the cartoon though, every now and then he let out a few smiles or laughs, he was indeed watching.

"Am I disturbing your cartoon watching section?" You asked, laughing a little and taking steps forward, next to the sofa, he quickly turned his head on your direction, bearing a smirk that made you mirror his, it was contagious. "Y/n my darling, come, sit here" the older man said, patting with his slightly heavy hand on his side on the sofa, letting his arm above the backrest, indicating that he wanted you close, and you did that slowly, sitting there comfortably, didn't even had time to adjust, the man quick pulled you closer with the arm that was extended behind your head before, making you let out a squeak, laughing slightly, and seeing him smiling because of the surprised sound you let out.

"I hope you like cartoons, because that's what we're going to watch" Jenson was paying attention to the television with the same smile on his face.

"It's not that i have something against it, but it's so cute to see you watching" he just let out a chuckle, squeezing you to his side, but still, eyes glazed over the screen, giving time to observe him a little, your head on his shoulder, the strong arm behind your back, keeping you practically 'stuck' at his side - not that you complained. The beard was a bit thin, messy, he had some freckles, some gray hairs here and there, his expression lines became more present every time he moved his facial muscles a little....but that only made him more attractive in your eyes, not forgetting his incredible sense of humor, of course. So entertained by the man that you hadn't even noticed that something else started on the television.

Feeling his muscle close to your arm, he still raced at WEC, needing to maintain strong. "You're staring love" the older said next to your ear with a teasing smile on the lips, caressing your arm up and down, the only reaction you could have was to be out o words because you wouldn't thought he would notice, the cheeks warming up a bit and goosebumps down your spine.

Looking at the man's face like an idiot for a few seconds, he knew exactly what he was doing, and while watching, he could feel your eyes all over him, it wasn't that subtle. "I only got distracted! Sponge Bob hasn't held my attention since I was 10" you said playfully, giving a gentle slap on his chest, but he was eyeing you with a small smile, ready to tease "Yeah...but Sponge Bob finished a few minutes ago, the movie now is 'The Incredibles', what's your next excuse now?" His tone was cocky, like someone who just won an argument, that ended up leaving you once again without having anything to say, you took a glance at the television and he was right, at least 20 minutes has already passed since the movie started and you were completely lost in daydreams of his beauty, but luckily, he ended up laughing and seeking the remote control to you "I'm just teasing, silly, here, choose whatever you want"

He had a slightly tender smile on his lips now, staring while keeping you close, and like anyone else who's not boring, you did enjoyed cartoons from time to time, but it sounded more easier lie than just admit that you've been admiring the brit.

You took the remote, not that you were very interested in anything that was on television with this man by your side, but you decided to give the screen a chance, changing the channels until an horror movie came, couldn't quite recall the name, but seemed better than the cartoons.

"a horror movie? You like that kind of stuff?" The man asked, laughing, slightly ruffling your hair at the back of your head, not enough to make you annoyed.

"a lot, to be honest" you said smiling, snuggling right next to him, laying the head on his shoulder in a comfortable way.

Having you close like that made the man let out a light sigh that he didn't know he was holding, almost relieved of having you so close, looking at you more interested than what was going on the screen and you didn't even notice, slowly looking at your whole face, the way your eyes were expressive, the nose slightly raised, cheeks that seemed soft just like the rest of the skin, and naturally pink lips that he so wanted to taste despite the fact that in the back of his head there was still a small voice reminding him that maybe he shouldn't do that, so he cleared the throat quickly and shook his head, trying to pay attention to the movie and take you out of his thoughts.

Listening to the sound he made with his throat, you looked curiously but he was already watching, deciding to just stay quiet and do the same. In practically 15 minutes of film, Jenson did something he always does to distract himself from the thoughts who were still lingering on his mind: talking and being playful.

"nope, you're gonna die" he said shaking his head in the scene where one of the characters went to check on a noise in the house "why are they always so stupid? Of course if you hear a noise in the dark in the middle of the night you'll see what it is" saying as if it were obvious people won't do that, with a tone of indignation while shaking his head, you could only leave a smused smile on your lips, and as soon as the girl's screams were heard while the killer caught her. "Oh, see? Nothing good would come of a noise in the middle of the night in the house"

"And you're telling me that if you heard a noise here in the middle of the night, you wouldn't check it out?" You questioned crossing your arms and arching one of the eyebrows in a playful way.

"I'm curious, but not dumb, I would probably send you or the other boys" he said laughing and squeezing you

"Oh what a gentleman! Honestly even Fernando would go on his own" you blurt having fun, Fernando was known for prioritizing himself too much on the tracks - which is already expected of a driver, but he was a little more -, which It's nothing like the man he is outside of them, but you knew Jenson was just joking.

"and he would be the first to die, love. In the attempt to be the Knight in the shining armor, who does he think he is? Don Quixote? The Spanish version of Lancelot?" You let out a genuine laugh as he chuckled quietly, enjoying seeing that you were amused by his sense of humor.

"Now that you mentioned it, he would look really good as Aramis...or Athos...but you do know that the name of Don Quixote is Alonso, right?" you say slowly, biting your lip at the image, Aramis was the real Don Juan of The Musketeers, so it would probably suit him better, but your thoughts were interrupted by the small shove the older one did playfully to your side, as if he was jealous...and probably, deep down, he was.

"Hey, I'm right here, just because I wasn't the knight? It was a joke...in reality I wouldn't let anyone check and we would all jump the window" he said, burying his nose in your cheek, making you laugh, lightly slapping his thigh which he pretend it hurt, complaining and making a face, stroking there, straightening the legs in a relaxed manner after, he hadn't even noticed, being already used to being spacious, and even if it was tempting the way his big thighs were a bit stiff in this position, he was too relaxed.

"As if your knees could handle this and it's no use, this manspreading won't work on me" you teased him by giving the legs a little push, and only then he did realize. "oh shoot, sorry love"

It was apologetically while closing his legs a little, you were just joking, since you were practically glued to his side, it didn't bother you much, but it was certainly a distraction.

"let's just watch the movie? We've already missed a lot of things" he suggested, and laughing you agreed, as soon as you both snuggled up properly, finally paid a little attention to the plot unfolding on the screen.

Jenson seemed to have other plans, of course he enjoyed your company, to have you close, but he's been seeing you differently lately - not just him -, and having you so close, on the couch, wasn't helping at all with these thoughts he shouldn't have about it, he actually thought about watching the film...but maybe the timing was too perfect for another thing. Slowly, while pretending to pay attention to the screen, he began to gently stroke your arm caressing it while, and since you're watching, it didn't bother, to be honest, it was a welcomed affection, all the men in this house have always been affectionate towards you and the British man is no exception. His fingers slowly felt the softness of your skin, the heat, just below the sleeve of the sweatshirt you were wearing, it was one finger, then two, three... and when you realized, he was caressing and warming you up with his hand, long enough to look at his large hand for a few seconds, which despite its size, had a delicate touch, and the size had a slight contrast with your arm, ending up blinking a few times, quickly looking at the television, not letting the thoughts went where they shouldn't, but the scene in the movie wasn't helping.

The couple was kissing slowly, both sitting on the couch - which seemed like fate was trying to be funny -, the boy slowly put his hand inside the girl's t-shirt, slowly lying down on the sofa, usually this type of scene didn't even affect you, but there was something about the slow kiss, the light smiles at each other, carefree, without knowing what awaits them, the touches that seemed so real that they made you adjust a little on the sofa, letting a low sigh when the boy slide himself between the the girl's legs, you had no idea why a scene like this was affecting you so much, enough to make you have to move, several films had sex scenes...apparently, not like this one, which didn't go unnoticed by the man next to you, he looked slowly for a few seconds, from head to toe but then shifted the gaze at the screen again, and as if he didn't saw anything, still caressing the arm, he used his other hand to make a small caress on your thigh, his thumb slowly moving up and down on the fabric, of course the scene didn't help with what Button was already thinking, you were feeling the tension in the room increase, and for a few seconds you wondered if that was really happening, it was as if he was testing the waters... and actually was, he wanted to know what your reaction would be, if by any chance you would hit his hand or he would get a slap in the face and hear that he's being disrespectful, that you are not ready for any of this, which he would respect and give you space, but you were already starting to feel slight shivers, a certain anticipation in your chest, so you slowly turned your face, watching the man who feigned interest in the film at that point. Thinking that maybe he wasn't just being affectionate as usual. With some shyness, feeling the great, not so intoxicating perfume of the older man, you got close enough to leave him a kiss at the base of his neck, when you realized that the man hadn't moved away or said anything, you gave him another kiss slowly above the other, and one more, which made him humm, adjusting a little on the sofa and sliding his hand from your arm to waist, making a small caress there, his hands in a sneaky way touching the skin there underneath of the hooded sweatshirt, making you relax a little, the feeling of his hand there scared at first because you weren't expecting it, but his touch felt good.

"can i ask you something, darling?" The voice was low because you both were close, slowly facing him after that. "you just did, but go ahead" your tone was playful, which made him leave a smile on his beautiful lips, and for the first time looking a bit serious, which made you feel your cheeks heating up, your shoulder was leaning against the taller one's side, close enough, the tension palpable.

"have you ever...touched yourself?"

The question was personal, your cheeks gained even more color, probably should have already expected at this point that it would be something like that... but perhaps the fact that you had never talked about it out loud with anyone... left you embarrassed, even more so being with him, even after what you all talked about in the kitchen...you wouldn't get used to talking about it out of nowhere, so you just let out a blushing laugh. "You know that...just as you have... desires... I also have... but I never... put my fingers inside, I was afraid it would hurt" you admitted somewhat ashamed, which he let a chuckle escaped, using his hand that was previously on the thigh for your hair, slowly adjusting it, caressing your face with his knuckles right after, knowing that this had made you slightly shy so he tried to comfort with the touch and a careful smile. "Really? Those tiny little fingers?" He teased, reaching for one of your hands and making you open it, placing your palm on his hand, the difference appearing immediately, his fingers were bigger, a little thick... which was to be expected, but that made you playfully roll your eyes and intertwine your fingers.

"Ha ha ha, tiny compared to yours!" You commented, laughing slowly, the tension was still there, for a few seconds you just stared at each other, the older man's hand still gently caressed your waist.

"You're right...so what do you do then, huh? Play with your clit?" He whispered with his face close, your face coming alive again at how direct he had been just now, just letting a small smirk appear on your pinkish lips. "That's a bit too much information"

"alright...fair enough, let's put it that way, love...what if i say i want to touch you? What if i say i can make you feel good and show you that it doesn't have to be painful?" You remained quiet while the man gave a proposal, to be honest, deep down inside you didn't need to think, the answer was a solid yes! but something made you hesitate, maybe the size of his hand, which would be in unexplored parts, but the desire to have him touching you was greater, so you simply nodded, agreeing. "I need to hear you."

"yes...just don't get too ahead of yourself" you said, to which he just smiled and nodded slowly, understanding what you meant by that.

He slowly slipped his fingers further inside your sweatshirt and blouse, making a lazy caress, he slowly approached your face and began to kiss gently, wanting to relax you, when the kisses reached your neck, you couldn't help but let out a sigh, closing eyes and tilting the head to the side, giving him more space to explore the neck, after all, it was a sensitive place, and it sent goosebumps through your body, while the man's hand continued to feel the skin of your stomach, moving up gently, lightly touching the underside of your breasts, which made you adjust a little, slightly impatient to have him touch where you wanted, which didn't go unnoticed, he let a low laugh come out, biting your neck near your collarbone, making you whimper. "Impatient are we?" Joking, he plastered a somewhat smug smile on the lips, you were about to complain when his fingers slowly entered your pants, your hand grabbing on the same arm that kept you pressed against his side.

Butterflies hit your stomach at the new sensation of someone else's hand in such an intimate place, but as soon as the older man started playing with the hem of your panties, you almost gasped, of course you were comfortable with him, you felt comfortable enough to let him do what no one has ever done, because you trusted him...still, it's not like you're used to that kind of touch.

"Relax..." He whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck to distract just a bit, already feeling your skin a little hot, the slick between your folds dripping slowly on your panties, and that only with his touch and teasing. Button liked how sensitive to touch you seemed to be, and as much as he was tempted to just slide his fingers in and finally explore what he wanted so much...he enjoyed teasing and didn't wanted to overwhelm you all of sudden.

The film, long forgotten on television, you couldn't even hear anything other than your heart beating strongly - almost in your ears - and the breathing of the man close to your neck as he gave light bites and kisses. His hand slowly slid past the hem of the panties, all below your clothes, and those seemed to be becoming too hot as the minutes passed.

"Hey, Hey, Look at me" he asked with such a low and soft voice to hear, and slowly you did so, he took a few seconds to admire with an intense look, your eyes were half-lidded, the pupils starting to dilate, temperature a bit high and breathing slightly faltering, he had a half shit-eating grin on his face from seeing how little things affected you, but that was probably because it's him, it would be difficult not to be affected by everything he does.

With no time to waste, he kissed you, slowly, carefully, successfully distracting you from his two fingers that crept closer to their destination. You relaxed too much into the kiss, taking one of your hands to the older man's face, slowly pulling closer, caressing his facial hair with the tips of your fingers. A long, calm and patient kiss. Him, taking advantage of the fact that you were distracted, didn't miss it, gently sliding his colder fingers between your pussy lips, rubbing one of them on your clit for the first time, which made you moan softly in the middle of the kiss, not expecting the touch.

"shit... you're really wet" he voiced out, letting a small laugh escape, surprised.

Seeing him speaking so confidently while letting his fingers explore your pussy made you feel a pulse there, which he certainly felt too, your clit already throbbing, begging for attention after such light touch.

"J-Jenson" you moaned softly against his lips after the kiss with his fingers moving slowly and delicately, as if he wanted to remember the feeling of sliding his digits in such a warm and wet place, especially tight, what he felt when sliding his middle finger up to your entrance, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves with his thumb while the other pressed just a little on your glistening entrance, putting just the tip of his finger inside, already feeling how tight it was, which made you moan his name again and tremble slightly from the new sensations, he couldn't help but let out a groan that was on the back of his throat.

"that's right baby, say my name" he whispered close to your lips and placed a few kisses on your neck. As the seconds passed, you only got wetter, his touch was so careful, the caress was precise anyway, you knew he could make you Come lazily and that would still bring tears in your eyes from the intensity.

You tilted your head back a little, squirming, crying out small moans on his side with him flicking your clit a bit faster now, spreading a few times your inner lips to slide his big digit against your entrance, just teasing and sometimes pressing there but never putting in too far, as much as he was just tempted to shove his fingers into you with how wet you were, coating him slowly with your juices, what you both knew by the sensation and the slick noises it made because of the friction. This was getting too much for him, he started to play with your clit even more, your legs shaking slightly with the sudden change of pace.

"I'm gonna put one finger inside, okay?" He whispered with the breathing a little messy, almost as if asking for permission, and you couldn't respond properly, so with your eyes almost closed you just shook your head quickly, letting him do it.

Calmly he pressed his thumb on the most sensitive place while pushing his coated middle finger inside you, only stopping when his first knuckle was inside, and immediately he felt the velvet walls gripping his finger like it longed to be filled by something.

It was a strange sensation for you at first, after all, you had never dared to put anything in there, and even though Button's fingers were a little large, the feeling was far from uncomfortable, at this point, oddly enough, you already felt a slight warm sensation in your lower belly, and as soon as he started moving his finger slowly and your moans became a little louder and more frequent along with the squelch noises being more present, he couldn't take it.

"alright, i need to see you baby, fuck, i need to see that pussy, i bet it looks so beautiful all wet for me" he whispered somewhat desperately, breatheless still, as he used his other hand to hurriedly pull down your pants, you raised your legs a little, slightly trembling, to help him.

Despite everything you were already doing, hearing him talking like that made your face heat up, it seemed so shameful.

He threw the pants away, letting out a small growl when the big wet spot on your orange panties appeared, which he quickly discarded on the floor as well, and in one swift move he manhandled you to sit on one of his thick thighs, keeping your back pressed against his chest, not exactly sitting but in a position he could look at it closer and better. "keep your legs spread for me baby, that's it" he asked, slapping your thigh twice without much force, the man's breathing was almost the same as yours, but he couldn't help but let out a groan seeing the treasure you had between your legs, made his eyes shine, tempted to just throw you on the couch and eat you out like it's the last thing he'll do.

Mesmerized, letting his fingers slide to your glistening pussy, welcoming his already slick fingers so easily, it was shining in the light, his fingers seemed big there on the same espace, only then you realized the mess you made with just his touch, while releasing whimpers, your cheeks grew even hotter.

"baby look at you... God you're soaking, so fucking beautiful" he said in a low tone, still admiring you, now that he could see what he was doing, everything had become better.

"J-Jenson...baby please...please touch me" you begged in a low voice, thrusting your hips a little, to make him slide his finger where it was before

"what? I'm already touching you, love" he teased, pressing and rubbing in a slightly mean way, with force, his thumb in your little bundle of nerves, your body gaining a jolt of pleasure that made your legs shake and you moan his name, feeling the smile on the older man's lips who loved to tease you, and as much as you wanted to slap him to make make him stop that, your mind was more focused on begging, you never needed someone's touch as much as you do now.

"Goddamn, please!...please...want your fingers inside...so bad" wiggling softly on his thigh, he let a low chuckle and just as you were about to ask again without any shame in begging for it, he placed his strong arm under your breasts, keeping you pressed there while holding the hem of your hooded sweatshirt and without much delay he pushed his middle finger against your entrance, this time putting it all the way in, making you squirm but he held you with some force, not letting you move too much.

In meantime he was moving his finger, nothing too strong or forceful, but fast, which made you moan a little sweet and louder, forgetting that you weren't alone at home, but it was difficult to control, the feeling was so good, you squeezed a little more the arm that was around you, with your eyes closed and head leaning against his warm body. Without any warning, he slowly introduced another finger, both his middle and ring finger knuckles deep inside you by now, and because of the size, you thought they might hurt, but you were wrong...oh you were so wrong, it only gave it more pleasure, made your legs shake for the dozen time.

He moved them rather quickly now, as you felt the pressure in your lower belly increase, the British bit his lower lip slowly, closely observing how your body reacted, he relished the fact that he was the one doing this to you, leaving you all warm, red, sweaty, wet and sensitive, begging for his touch, getting lightheaded, things you're experiencing for the first time in the best way, you were never this helpless when you touched yourself.

"Look at that...fuck... you're dripping, you're taking my fingers so well..."

He praises close to your ear, leaving a slow bite on the earlobe, extremely concentrated on the movements of his own fingers "Open your eyes, look at the mess you're making, or I'll stop"

He demanded on purpose, his voice was soft but you knew he would stop, he could see how difficult it was to keep your eyes open from the pleasure so you forced them to stay like that looking down, his fingers appearing and disappearing inside you in a quick pace, the wetter you stayed, the more the sounds seemed so erotic, the most sloppiest sounds ever, your juices were literally dripping down and wetting his sweatpants by now, which made you a bit embarrassed but he just loved the sight.

"Good girl"

Obviously that sent a wave straight to your core, making you squeeze his fingers tighter inside, which he definitely felt and made him laugh next to your ear "hum, do you like that darling? Of course you do...you like when i praise you huh?" His tone had a bit of mockery but amusement as well, he enjoyed that fact, enjoyed how much power he suddenly had over this, over your body, over your incoming orgasm.

"P-Please...please more...f-faster" you whined between the moans, it wasn't enough to make you reach the edge with the pace his fingers had now, but it was enough to make you cream everything, and the older man decided to give you some relief, thinking that he had already provoked you too much for a first time, and suddenly curved his fingertips, reaching an area he hadn't touched yet, pressing the tip of his fingers on that spongy side against your walls where nobody had ever touched, not even you, and that made almost a wave of pleasure go through all your body that made you bite the hand so you don't moan too loudly.

It felt wonderful, he knew he had found the right place with his hands, that seemed to be so skilled, and soon enough he was pumping his fingers relentlessly, pressing down that place like a button everytime, making you almot putty in his arms, a moaning mess by now, your eyes closed, whimpering incoherent things, the man whispering some sinful things on your hear just to feel you grip his fingers harder because he knew exactly what made you clench your walls, what made your legs shake and you adjust on his lap, and when he started to also press the palm of his hand on your clit...almost made you come right there.

All the sensations were practically overwhelming, you were almost over there, the pressure in your womb a bit too much to hold it in, the wave was coming slightly faster with everything he was doing down there, and he knew it. "You're close, aren't you, pretty girl?" He whispered in a tantalizing way, but you couldn't speak, only moan, mutter a few sweet "please"'s but you shook your head quickly and desperate, that was all he needed to press his palm even more on the most sensitive part between your legs and move the fingers a bit harder, almost making you cry out, shaking all over, on his lap, your breath faultering, it was coming and it was coming hard, you never felt anything like this in your entire life, it wasn't the usual sensation of an orgasm...that time it seemed like it had more.

"Alright, come for me love, come on, you deserve it, you've been such a good girl"

And you didn't have to be told twice, just letting be drive over the edge with his fingers, you moaned louder when the orgasm finally hit, him having to slide his free hand to keep your legs open since you tried closing them by the intensity, but what actually surprised you was seeing you squirt on his hand and his pants, wetting everything, with him groaning and praising you afterwards, and if you thought you were a mess before, you should see it now.

It was so intense that your whole body was shaking, breathing was uneasy, face was red, the body was a little sweaty, while the Brit had a satisfied smile on his lips, his cock stiff in his pants because it was so goddamn hot to watch you unravel with his fingers and on his hold. He kept moving his fingers slowly to let you ride it out your orgasm, and when you finally stopped, spent, he took out his fingers carefully, hearing you whimper because you got a bit sensitive, because of the loss of contact too, not hesitating to simply suck his fingers, humming while he said so "you're delicious love, do you want a taste?"

You just opened your eyes lazily, adjusting your head closer, kissing his lips, gently and calmly, putting his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself there, turning it into a wet kiss but still in a way, careful. He knew you're a bit shaky after what happened, wasn't thinking straight...in fact you weren't exactly thinking at all. It took all his strength to not simply bury his head between your legs to clean you with his tongue, but you were already too sensitive, he did slide his fingers on your folds one last time, which you let out a small sound, almost protesting, his touch wasn't harmful though, he just wanted to taste you a bit more, sucking his fingers glistening again, making your face warm a bit more...jesus, he really enjoyed that...he looked like he had just tasted the sweetest thing ever and he couldn't get enough, you could clearly see on his expression that, the satisfaction after what he has done.

You felt him hard close to your body, and before you made any movement, even if tired, about to help, he quickly adjusted your position carefully and placed you back on the couch, lying down this time. "but...Jens-"

"no, no, everything was about you today, don't worry about me, relax baby, you seem tired" the man said in a soft and calm voice, his accent making your heart flutter a bit.

He got up only to grab your panties and pants, he seemed a bit out of breath...it was kinda intense for him as well, not the same for you of course, but it did made his breath faulter. He made a small caress on your waist while carefully dressing you, your legs were a little wobbly after the orgasm, and he remained there until you seemed to have returned at least a bit to normal, having the hair adjusted by him, slowly, while he looked a bit tenderly, it somewhat made you feel warm and fuzzy inside...it was intense but it had a caring touch. "That was...so good though..." You blurted out, a little embarrassed but with a satisfied smile on your face, your breathing still returning to normal, heart returning to it's normal frequency, and for him, seeing that you enjoyed yourself was more than enough to make him happy.

"I'm glad you enjoyed, darling... because i really, really did" He sent you a wink, making you scoff in a funny way, taking off your hooded sweatshirt with his help because the body was too warm after the activities you just did, staying only with your blouse.

"believe me...i know you did" you joked, both of you laughing relaxedly now, like good friends who clearly seemed to have something going on between them.

"you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" He was serious now, eyeing you for an answer, giving him a smile, you just shake your head in a negative way before answering properly.

"No Jense, it was awesome, it did leave me a bit lightheaded, didn't thought it could be that...intense, but i'm okay" you assured him, giving his hand a light squeeze, and only when he saw on your eyes you were actually okay, that he saw you were being sincere. "By the way...i'm sorry about your...pants" you whispered gently, shy when you got a proper glimpse of the big wet spot on his thigh, but he smiles, looking down, rubbing his fingers there.

"You should already know that I don't mind...plus that was sexy as hell" he made a voice deep and sighed like he almost got turned on talking about that, you couldn't help but laugh and turn your head to look away, trying to not stay too shy. "alright! I get it..."

The man arranged a pillow behind your head, lifting your legs so that they were in his lap, starting to deliberately massage there while he watched you, comfortably in silence. Jenson was simply sweet, and it was so good that you didn't even feel like talking about what just happened, about what meant this that both of you did in the heat of the moment, but there wasn't an ounce of regret in him or in you, so maybe it would be better to wait for another day, you' didn't want to disturb the peaceful moment between you two...you didn't felt like you had to question that now...you both shared something intense and intimate, it should be simple...but you'll probably wonder why later.

[quinzzelx]

Steamy Pages

Azriel x Fem! Rhys Sister! Reader

A series of connected Oneshots. Read Paramour here

Summary: In the House of Wind's library, Azriel catches you reading a steamy novel, leading to a secret and passionate encounter.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Smut, 18!+, Oral fem!Receiving, PnV, dirty talk, Not proof-read yet

A/N: Somehow, I always end up writing smut instead of my fluffy or angsty WIP's. But I have so many things that I'm currently working on, which I only want to be perfect & as of right now, I don't feel up to the task :( I hate to keep you guys waiting- but I really have writers' block for some of my stuff right now and all I'm able to do is smut somehow lmao... I also need a name for this series of connected Oneshots. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

As you sat in the House of Wind's library, engrossed in a book, a figure appeared in the corner of your eye. Azriel. For the past few weeks, Azriel and you had been falling into and out of each other's beds. Ever since that fateful night at Rita's where the thin line you both had been tiptoeing around was finally crossed after drunkenly stumbling back home. Rhys, your brother, was out that day, Mor had left with someone, and Cassian was at the camps, leaving just the two of you to find your way back. Something was different that night, and one thing led to another. A blush crept onto your cheeks at the mere thought of that heat-filled, steamy night.

Now, you sat in the library reading. Azriel entered silently, watching you curled up on the lounge chair before the hearth, a book in your hand. He had been away for a few days, and seeing you here stirred something deep within him. Fully immersed in your novel, you didn't hear the silent steps of the Shadowsinger as he approached. The characters in your book were finally confessing their love for each other, and as the scene grew steamy, a deeper blush spread across your face, your heart rate picking up.

He stopped beside the chair and leaned down to watch the words you read, his breath brushing your cheek. A low growl escaped him as he read aloud, "My legs trembled as his fingers traced invisible patterns on the inside of my thighs, venturing further up, up, up. I felt his all-consuming presence enveloping me, and as his fingers brushed against my awaiting heat, softly caressing my cunt over the thin fabric of my lacy underwear..."

You flinched, yelping at the sudden intrusion, snapping your head in his direction. Your face heated unbelievably at what was happening. Embarrassed, you tried to snap the book shut, but he swiftly snatched it out of your hands.

"Azriel, stop!" you whined, trying to reach for the book in utter mortification.

He smirked at your discomfort and slowly flipped the book open, his finger trailing over the page as he read. "With a primal growl, he buried his face between my thighs, his tongue eagerly tasting me through the thin fabric." Scrambling to your knees on the sofa, you threw the blanket you were nestled in to the ground, fumbling to reach the book. Even your pointed ears turned a shade of dark red. "Az, please stop reading!" you swallowed hard, trying to pry the book from his hands again.

He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on the book. The room seemed to grow warmer as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Why? Are you enjoying this?"

You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest, staring up at his towering form. Your face was perfectly lined up with his crotch. Your eyes narrowed. "Obviously not," you lied, trying to keep your face straight, hoping the scent of your arousal wasn't that strong.

His lips twitched as he caught your lie. He tilted your chin up just enough to make eye contact before he brought the book up slightly, still holding onto it, the description obscene. "I don't think I believe you."

Your heartbeat picked up, his touch lighting a fire inside of you. "That's not my problem now, is it, Shadowsinger?" you tried to fake nonchalance, but your heated skin and subtle glance at the book betrayed your true feelings.

He smirked, his eyes filled with mischief as he watched you, his free hand coming to your cheek to trace it with the pad of his thumb. "Careful, princess, you're giving yourself away." Subconsciously, you closed your eyes, leaning into the warmth of his touch. Your breath hitched when he continued to read the absolute filth of the book aloud.

"His tongue dragged over my clothed cunt as he grunted at the feeling of my arousal-drenched panties." He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his beautiful lips as he skimmed the page further before continuing to read aloud. "Oh, very interesting. My orgasm shattered me, crashing over me like a tidal wave as his fingers worked their way over my swollen clit. His tongue lapping at every bit of my arousal."

"You seem to be enjoying my reading, princess." His hand trailed down from your face, stopping at the curve of your neck. His thumb brushed back and forth over the tender skin there, feeling the pulse quicken under his touch. Your breath caught in your throat, lungs suddenly empty of any air. Heat crawled up your body, and your skin felt like it was burning. "I was also enjoying reading my book before you strolled in here and interrupted me so rudely." His low chuckle rumbled through the room, and he leaned in closer, the added heat from his body enveloping you. "Rude, was I now?" His thumb slipped lower, tracing a line down from your collarbone to the valley of your cleavage.

"Azriel," you said his name, meant as a warning, but the quivering in your voice made it sound more like a plea. His eyes sharpened, jaw ticking as a low sound, something like a growl, slipped past his lips.

"Say my name like that again, and I will fuck you right into the cushions of this couch until you're screaming it for the whole house to hear," he said, voice low and husky but calm and collected. Your eyes widened, and molten lava pooled between your legs. "You have no idea what kind of thoughts you're provoking, princess."

His thumb slipped inside the neckline of your dress, grazing the soft skin of your breast. "Maybe I should give you a taste of what you're asking for, what you're so innocently reading." You closed your eyes, gasping when his fingers dipped lower, skimming across your hardening nipple. You whimpered at the touch, exhaling sharply, one of your hands wandering to wrap around the wrist of his hand that was currently groping at your chest, squeezing your breast in his big hand.

A wicked grin formed at the corners of his mouth, enjoying both your reaction and your desperation for him. He leaned closer, whispering in your ear with hot, fiery breath as he continued teasing you. "Do you want me to fuck you, princess?"

Every bit of restraint you wanted to keep snapped as you surged forward. Now, with his face so close to yours as he hovered so close, you crashed your lips into his, capturing him in a searing kiss. Tangling your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you, you heard the book drop to the ground, his now free hand rushing to your hip, squeezing it. He growled into your mouth. Pain struck you shortly as he squeezed your breast harshly again, pinching your pebbled nipple.

"Azriel, fuck," you moaned into his mouth, into the kiss, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. "I don't want you to just fuck me; I need you to completely unravel me."

The kiss was scorching, burning through Azriel's soul and body, igniting a wildfire of desire that almost made him gasp. He snarled against your lips, a primal, possessive sort of sound, his fingers tightening on your hip as you pulled him closer. You pulled him even closer, and with his legs already leaned against the armrest of the sofa, he toppled over. The huge Illyrian male crashing into your body as you also fell back. But the kiss never broke as he now lay on top of you, grunting and starting to kiss down your neck, nipping and licking at your heated flesh. You whined and tugged at his hair as his hand kneading your breast slipped up to tug down your dress, making your breast spill out. He wasted no time exploring the newly exposed skin, biting and kissing over your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you, his tongue swirling over your nipple before sucking it harder into his mouth. His hand trailed down your body, slipping under the fabric of your dress, inching higher until his fingers brushed against your wet core.

"Gods above," you huffed, trying to regain some composure. You pulled at his hair, making him release your nipple with a pop and tilt his head to look at you. The sight of his face made your pussy throb—his dark curls messy and falling into his eyes, hazel swirling with darkness, pupils blown wide with lust, cheeks flushed, and lips glinting with saliva. Realizing you were staring, you groaned. "Fuck, why are you so gorgeous?"

The sound of your almost breathless voice had Azriel smirking, his eyes flashing dangerously when you cursed. "Are you trying to flatter me?"

You rolled your eyes, giving his hair a playful tug. "Gorgeous but a little too cocky for my taste." You mirrored his smirk, biting your bottom lip as you imagined how he'd pound into you, how his fingers would feel inside you. Both his hands sneaked down your torso, coming to rest just above your knees where your summer dress had already bunched up. He gathered it in his hands, maintaining eye contact, and slowly inched the dress up your legs, kissing the newly exposed skin.

"Az, what are you—" you started to ask, but he cut you off.

"We've been fucking all these weeks and I didn't get to taste that pretty little cunt yet," he said, fabric bunching around your hips now, his hot tongue leaving a wet trail on your inner thigh. "And I'm planning on changing that."

Azriel chuckled softly against your skin, the sound vibrating against your thigh as he continued to move his lips further up. His possessive hand on your waist tightened slightly as his mouth finally found the heat of your core, tongue lapping at your clit through the thin lace of your panties.

Your hips bucked in surprise as he softly nibbled on your clit through the lace of your thong. You squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling, your chest heaving, your left hand grabbing onto the cushions, fingers immediately digging into them. Azriel smirked against you, fingers hooking into your panties and tugging them downwards, revealing the smoothness of your bare sex. He groaned softly, almost unnoticeably, hands moving to spread you open for him.

You whined when he pulled apart your legs, your cheeks heating under his intense stare as he seemed to commit the sight of your glistening cunt to memory. "Gods, you have such a pretty pussy," he groaned. You wanted to scream when he dragged his tongue through your folds, from your entrance to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Your back arched as you gasped.

He hummed against your swollen folds, the vibration making you quake underneath him. His tongue was lethal, and he knew it. He had always wondered if you tasted as sweet as he had imagined, and now he knew the answer was a resounding yes. A sinful moan ripped from your throat when he dove in deeper, prodding his tongue at your entrance and lapping up your arousal, burying his face in your cunt, his nose brushing against your clit. Your toes curled as ripples of pleasure shot down your spine. He moaned into your pussy, tongue delving deeper as he feasted on you, the sound of your moans spurring him on. With one arm wrapped around your thigh, his fingers dug into your flesh possessively. Cauldron, he wanted to drown in your cunt.

"You taste like the sweetest temptation, Princess," he growled into you. "So fucking delicious."

Your other hand, the one not holding onto the sofa for dear life, tangled in his hair again, tugging and pushing him closer into your heat. "Yes, make me cum on your pretty face," you whined.

"Beg for me, Princess," he said, his words muffled by your folds. His tongue lashed out against your clit, teasing mercilessly. With each flick of his tongue, you grew more desperate, your hold on his hair tightening.

You didn't feel like fighting, so you yielded to him, to his will. "Please," you whimpered. "Please, Az, make me cum with your tongue." Every word left you as a whining moan, grinding your hips and your cunt into his face. "Oh, please let me cum all over your pretty face."

Smirking to himself, Azriel obeyed your command. His tongue plunged deeper into your cunt, greedily drinking up your arousal. His fingers continued their assault on your thigh, squeezing and possessing in equal measure. You're mine, he whispered silently.

You cursed under your breath, eyes fixed on the Shadowsinger buried between your legs, feasting on you like a starved male, as if your pussy was his favorite meal. You gasped when his nose pressed into your clit as he basically made out with your cunt. Fuck, if he hadn't ruined you for other males before, he sure did now. The way you watched him between your legs only spurred Azriel on, his hands reaching upward to grasp your hips and force you harder against his hungry mouth. He reveled in the gasps, the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. He owned them now.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. "So close," you slurred, desire and lust overwhelming your senses as all you could do was feel. Feel his tongue exploring your pulsing cunt, mapping it out like you once did with the night sky when you were younger.

A low growl vibrated against your pussy as Azriel felt you close to the edge. His hands gripped harder at your hips, keeping you immobile as he continued his relentless assault. He wanted to feel your orgasm shudder through your body and echo against his lips.

With a harsh suck on your sensitive bud, the dam broke, and your release came crashing over you with such force that you saw nothing but white, gasping for air. He maintained his hold on your hips, not letting you escape the intensity of your own orgasm. As you came back down to earth, he released you and gently kissed your sensitive folds before lifting his head, lips curved into a smug smile.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw him gazing at you, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. "That... That was unbelievable," you stated with a shaky voice, swallowing heavily.

He hummed as he crawled back up your body, dress still bunched around your hips, leaving your core exposed. "I am glad to have left you speechless, love," he murmured, positioning himself over you and brushing your hair away from your face. His gaze held a heated intensity that sent shivers down your spine as he lowered his head and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, and you were so lost in it, so lost in the passion, that you didn't notice how he freed his glorious length. You only noticed when his glistening head pressed into your inner thigh.

You moaned into his mouth when he gave you a fake thrust of his hips, lubricating his cock with your arousal. "You're so wet for me, love," he murmured, breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down your jawline to your collarbone. He continued to tease you, rocking his hips and letting his length glide against your folds. "Fuck me already," you gasped as his cock grazed your sensitive clit again.

"Ah ah, patience," he whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips. He slowly teased your entrance, letting the head of his cock slip inside before pulling back out. Whining, you tried to meet his hips with yours, trying to get him to sheathe himself inside of you fully, your arousal surely dripping onto the couch cushions by now.

"Oh no, we can't have that now, can we?" he said, finally giving in and thrusting into you with one swift motion. He gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move inside you. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You screamed out when he set a relentless pace, hips pistoning into you. He stretched you out, his cock reaching places no one had ever reached before, splitting you open. But it hurt so good, as if you were made for him, fitting perfectly around every delicious inch of him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're so fucking tight, so perfect around me," he grunted, the sound primal and full of lust. He continued to pound into you, the couch moving slightly from the force of his thrusts.

You screamed out his name when the head of his cock hit your cervix repeatedly. He shifted and grabbed your ass with both hands, lifting you up slightly, and you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips, giving him better access. "Fuck, yes," he groaned low in his throat, his rhythm picking up once more as he pushed deeper into you. With each thrust of his hips, he ground against you hard, and the friction was nearly enough to make your eyes roll back into your head.

"Yes, yes, fuck me, tear me apart, Azriel," you gasped, chanting praise and urging him on. "You fill me up so good." He growled low in his throat, his thrusts becoming wilder and more unhinged. "Your pussy was made for me to dominate and destroy. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes!" you nodded, whining and writhing beneath him, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Please." As you begged, Azriel grinned down at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and a hint of sadism. He obliged, picking up his pace and slamming into you with almost brutal force. His fingers dug into the skin of your ass, leaving bruises in their wake. "I own that pretty little cunt, don't I?" he snarled, eyebrows pinched as he fucked into you."Yes. Yours, it belongs to you," you panted.

"You're so fucking tight and perfect. I could do this all day and never tire of it," he groaned, fucking you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, blending with your desperate moans.

"What's stopping you?" you mewled, bouncing back the question. "Because of my brother? Because my brother, your High Lord, is also your best friend? Because you don't want him to know that you're fucking his little sister?"

"Fuck, you are a brat," he growled. His hand quickly snapped up from your ass to grip your chin, tilting your head back. "You want me to keep fucking you?" When you whimpered, he gave you a mocking laugh. "Thought so. Then you better behave." You whimpered again, nodding as best you could with his firm grip on your chin. Azriel's smirk grew, a dark promise in his eyes. He released your chin only to grip your hips with both hands, pulling you against him with each powerful thrust. "Good girl," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "You know how to behave for me, don't you?"

"Yes, Azriel," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you. "I'll be good for you."He grunted in approval, his pace unrelenting. The relentless rhythm had you teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body igniting with pleasure. His cock hit all the right spots, and the room filled with the symphony of your moans and his growls.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you whimpered, the words tumbling out between gasps. "Only yours, Azriel."

His response was a deep, satisfied groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove deeper. The intensity of his thrusts had you crying out his name, your body trembling with the force of your impending release. "Cum for me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you cum around my cock."

The demand pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that left you breathless. You cried out his name, your body tightening around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Azriel didn't relent, prolonging your ecstasy with each precise, powerful thrust. He watched you intently, reveling in the sight of your pleasure. As you came down from your high, he let out a low growl, his own release nearing.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you cum," he murmured, his pace becoming erratic. "I'm going to fill you up, make you mine in every way."

You moaned at his words, your body still trembling as you felt him tense. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his release flooding your senses. He groaned your name, his hands gripping your hips as he rode out his orgasm.

As the intensity subsided, he collapsed on top of you, his breaths ragged and hot against your skin. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath.

Azriel lifted his head, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered, a tender smile playing on his lips.

You smiled back, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Good," you teased lightly, your voice still breathless. "Because you do the same to me."

He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured, his tone filled with affection. As you basked in the afterglow, enjoying the closeness of Azriel's embrace, a sudden shout pierced the air, causing you both to freeze.

"Where are you, you sneaky bastard?" Cassian's voice echoed through the library, filled with mischief and determination. Panic surged through you, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you realized the precariousness of your situation. With a frantic glance at Azriel, you both sprang into action, scrambling to compose yourselves and hide the evidence of your tryst.

Azriel's eyes widened with urgency as he helped you straighten your disheveled dress, his movements quick and efficient. You shared a silent, desperate exchange, a mix of amusement and apprehension flickering between you. With practiced ease, you both managed to arrange yourselves just in time, assuming casual positions as Cassian burst into the library, his grin widening as he caught sight of you.

"There you are," he exclaimed, bounding over to where you sat, completely unaware of the chaos that had just ensued. "I've been looking all over for you!" You exchanged a relieved glance with Azriel, a silent acknowledgment of the close call you had just narrowly avoided. As Cassian launched into animated conversation, his nose wrinkled slightly. "What is that smell?" he asked, glancing around with a confused expression.

You felt your cheeks heat, and you quickly deflected, grabbing a nearby book and fanning yourself as if trying to cool down. "Just some old library dust, Cass. You know how these books can get." Cassian shrugged, apparently satisfied with the explanation. "Yeah, I suppose. Anyway, Az, Rhys wants to talk to you about the latest mission." Azriel nodded, his face perfectly composed. "Of course, I'll head over now."

As Cassian turned to lead the way, Azriel caught your eye and sent you a sneaky smirk and a quick wink, making your heart flutter. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, the thrill of your secret adding an extra layer of excitement. With a final smile, Azriel followed Cassian out of the library, leaving you to catch your breath and savor the memory of your passionate encounter.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Feedback is always appreciated and welcome. Also pls feel free to slide into my inbox and talk. I'd really enjoy building up their universe because I'm a sucker for Azriel x Rhys!Sister Reader. The whole dating your brother's best friend trope always gets me and I have soooo many headcanons for them already lol!!

[quartzalynlove]

Coming Home Injured

Pairing: Liu Kang, Kenshi, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Sub Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile x fem!reader (separately)

Summary: returning from a mission with a few bad injuries

Warnings: Canon typical violence, some descriptions of bad wounds

A/N: let's see if I can make personalized pet names for each of them without them being cringe. Feedback encouraged. Also if we're gonna keep writing for all 8 of these guys at once it's gonna take a minute for me to post so sorry abt that but more mk1 content is coming

Liu Kang

The two of you sat in silence from the moment you returned home. You had completed the mission, but only by an inch of your life. The image of Liu Kang's concerned face, before you fainted in his arms, was still clear in your head.

Liu Kang assessed your injuries before treating them, trying not to be alarmed by the long, deep gash cut from your side into your abdomen. All the while, that look on his face never faded. You had seen Liu Kang when he was concerned many times, but this was different. That crease between his brows was deeper for some reason. As his hands shook, uncharacteristically, while he cleaned your wound, you finally identified the expression. It was the same one you saw when Kenshi lost his sight on the mission to capture Shang Tsung.

"Darling," your voice was weak as you looked down at him.

Immediately, Liu Kang's eyes shot up at you. With his worry growing, he placed a hand on your thigh.

"My light, please do not exert yourself."

Slowly, your hand took hold of his. Your grip was so weak that Liu Kang could hardly bear it. Instead, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. You felt a shuddering breath against your skin as he pulled away.

"Don't you think you're a bit too concerned?" You asked.

With deep regret, Liu Kang bowed his head, not able to look at what he'd done to you.

"You shouldn't have returned this injured," his low voice started to break. "I shouldn't have—"

You stopped him before he could say another thing, "Lift your head," you told him.

Liu Kang looked up at you, slowly, his breaths still heavy and unsteady.

"You used your judgment as well as you could, and I fulfilled your orders. I came back to you."

Starting to calm, Liu Kang nodded in understanding.

"Not every round of Kombat is easy, but I'll be okay."

Upon seeing your reassuring smile, Liu Kang's breathing finally steadied, and his grip on your hand started to soften.

Kenshi

You winced in pain as Kenshi finished a stitch on a rather brutal injury. If he hadn't gotten to you sooner, the blood loss would have killed you. What you did lose on your staggering trek back home already made you lightheaded. Kenshi insisted on you resting; he made you something to eat and made sure you were drinking water. As you laid on the couch, resting yourself after a tough mission, Kenshi was rubbing your feet. You noticed his clenched jaw and the tight line his lips formed. Part of you wished you could sit up and hold his face, but you didn't want to risk popping a stitch while it was still fresh.

"What's on your mind, Kenshi?"

He turned toward your voice before trying to dismiss you with a shake of his head. "Nothing, my flower. Please try to rest."

"Don't say 'nothing' when it's clearly something, love."

You didn't say anything else, still too out of it to try and coax anything else from him. Thankfully, he wasn't going to make you do the work.

"I should've been there," He said quietly. "If I were there to protect you, you this wouldn't have happened."

Kenshi was such a gentleman, your very own knight in shining armor, but he often piled too much on his plate without noticing. He did know he didn't have to save you every time, didn't he?

A lazy smile graced your face, "Honey, I'm fine." You told him.

"You aren't fine—"

You interrupted, "I'll be fine," you said slowly. "You've patched my wounds, forced food and water down my throat, and you're even keeping me company here and rubbing my feet. You've saved me already, my hero."

Kenshi sighed as your words put him at ease, silently accepting that you were right.

"Besides," you continued. "I'm a big girl; I can handle myself. You should ask Sento to show you the other guy."

As Kenshi started to chuckle, you wore a proud smile before feeling yourself fall asleep on the couch.

Johnny Cage

Johnny was all over the place. While you held onto your side on the couch, he searched the area frantically for God knows what. All you could hear was his half-rambled sentences around.

"Johnny." You tried to get his attention.

He stopped for just a second just to point a finger at you. "Hey, don't move over there. I just gotta..."

As he left again, you let your head fall back, sighing in pain.

"I'm calling Liu Kang." You said.

Something in the kitchen clattered as Johnny shouted. "No, don't call him; I've got this!"

"I've been bleeding on our couch for five minutes!"

Sighing, Johnny came back again and looked at you. In any other circumstance, it would be cute how frantic he was over you. Unfortunately, however, your life was at stake and he was running around the house like the Roadrunner. Finally, Johnny finished assessing your injuries.

"Water," he snapped his fingers. "I'll get you some water."

"Johnny!" You stopped him before he could take off again.

In Johnny's defense, he was very worried. It was written all over his face. As you sighed, you spoke to him very carefully.

"I keep a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet."

With many understanding nods, Johnny seemed to calm down before heading to the bathroom.

"First aid kit," he said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Raiden

You didn't know how you were still alive, and if it weren't for Raiden, you'd surely be dead. Once you got through the portal, you tried to make it home to him, but Raiden ended up finding you collapsed on the academy grounds as blood quickly made a pool around your stomach. When you came to, the only sensation you could make out was Raiden's feet striking the ground as he ran with you in his arms. You must have managed to say something because you saw his eyes meet yours before darkness obstructed your vision again

The next time you woke you were somewhere indoors. A bright yellow light blinded you before your eyes could adjust. You felt Raiden squeeze your hand as your head turned.

"You're awake." He gasped.

All you could muster was a faint smile. That searing pain from the gash that opened your stomach still wasn't gone.

"Not for long." You said weakly.

Raiden's face became worried as he inched closer to you from his chair at your side.

"I must keep you awake," he said almost as a plea to you. "I've taken you to the medics, and they said if you wake I couldn't let you close your eyes again."

You whined with a frown. "It hurts, Raiden."

Raiden brought his free hand on top of yours, trying to comfort you with small rubs.

"I know, but I am here. I've got you."

As you looked at Raiden, the pain seemed to lessen. Everything felt warmer as long as you focused on him.

"I bet Shao thought he killed me." You said.

A bright smile appeared on Raiden's face at your decision to stay with him. "He is in for a surprise the next time you meet."

Sub Zero

You were a victim of Bi-Han's cold frustration. Honestly, it agitated you more than the searing pain caused by the cleaning of the open wound across your side.

From the moment you came back to him, limping through the front door with the last of your strength, he didn't utter a sound. You remained in awkward silence as he had you sit on the kitchen counter with your back straight while he patched you up.

As he stitched you up, Bi-Han was moving at a harsh pace. It wouldn't harm your wound, but it was almost more painful than the wound itself. Bi-Han was aware of the sharp breaths you sucked in and pained gasps, but they were no deterrent to quickness.

"Bi-Han," you finally snapped at him.

With a cocked eyebrow, Bi-Han stepped back, eyeing you with such an icy glare and that scowl you thought wasn't welcome in your home.

Your eyes searched his face, hoping to find your lover buried beneath that avalanche, "You're hurting me." You said.

A scoff came from Bi-Han as he attempted to work on you once again. "This can't hurt nearly as bad as your other injuries."

You wouldn't let him come back to you, however, pushing him back with the palm of your hand. "Well, it isn't exactly helping."

Bi-Han folded his arms over his chest. "Do you expect me to coddle you?"

"Some sympathy wouldn't hurt." You spat back.

In disbelief, Bi-Han came back to you, forcing himself into your view. "You want my sympathy for the consequences of your reckless actions? My assistance is enough comfort."

He readied the needle for the next stitch, but before he could jam another hole into you, you took the needle out of his hand.

You didn't look at him as you spoke. "I would rather help myself."

After staring at you for a moment, Bi-Han walked away with a grunt. However, even as he started to leave, your wincing continued. You tried to finish the stitching yourself, but the wound was in such a place that you couldn't reach it without straining the rest of your body. Not to mention aggravating the wound itself.

Bi-Han couldn't bear to watch and listen to you struggle. You were only hurting yourself more. Casting his face down for a moment, Bi-Han exhaled before returning to your side.

Before you could begin another stitch, you felt a cold hand stop the needle.

"The stitching will be ineffective this way."

That growl had left Bi-Han's voice, and his face softened, save the deep crease between his brows. Although his gaze would not meet yours, you gave the needle back to Bi-Han, feeling in the air that his anger had dissipated. As he went to work once again, he was much more gentle, and his work didn't hurt nearly as much. Still, he was very quiet. It was clear he wasn't angry with you anymore, but something still troubled him.

Once the stitch was finished, Bi-Han went to tend to your smaller injuries, remaining so quiet and drawn away from you. As he went to clean a cut on your cheek his eyes remained fixated on the wound, not once glancing towards you. Becoming concerned for him, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

"Bi-Han," you began turning to face him, but his face turned away. "Will you look at me, sweetheart?"

He couldn't; he was ashamed to do so. Although he should have had better control over himself, Bi-Han lost his temper with you.

"I was worried," he said, his face finally falling. "Seeing you come home in this state concerned me. I'm sorry I let it contort into anger."

With a small smile, you took the side of Bi-Han's face in your hand, fixing it towards you. It melted him a bit to see your face. Even after how he had acted, you still smiled at him.

"I knew of your anger long before we got together," you said. "And while it can be frustrating, that doesn't mean I'm not willing to work through it as long as you are."

Bi-Han leaned into your touch, sighing as he let his eyes close. "Just promise you'll act more carefully on future missions."

Scorpion

Kuai Liang tended to the large gash across the length of the back. The wound was deep and wide, he could hardly fathom how this had happened to you. However, his focus remained on bandaging you before it suffered any infection. Kuai Liang worked gently as he secured the bandages around you, but you dreaded turning back to him. Once you did, you turned away quickly from his gentle face, eager to get away from where his eyes gazed. Confused by this, he stopped you, taking a soft but firm hold of your arm.

"You should let me help with getting you ready for bed. I don't want you exhausting yourself, precious."

You huffed, but couldn't lose your temper with Kuai Liang's warm eyes gazing at you. Still, you snatched your arm back, turning your back to him again.

"I can manage, Kuai Liang." Your tone wasn't exactly angry but somber instead, bringing a confused expression to Kuai Liang's face.

He started to catch up to you again, "Your injuries are very serious, Y/N." He said as a word of caution.

As your jaw clenched, you quickly turned back to Kuai Liang, your tone more serious now. "And I said I can manage."

Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated through your shoulder, causing you to wince and grab at it. You turned too fast. Kuai Liang placed a hand on your shoulder, generating the softest heat to ease the pain.

"Beloved, what is wrong," He said with concern as he turned back in front of you. "It can't just be your injuries making you this upset."

With a soft sigh, you started to break your frustration, letting the sadness you truly felt manifest in your face, "Aren't you disappointed?" You looked up at him.

Kuai Liang's brows furrowed in confusion. Your expression was so sad and apologetic. How could you think he was disappointed?

"In you," he asked in disbelief. "Of course not, precious. Why would I be?"

Gesturing to yourself, you let out a shuddering breath, "Look at me," your voice began to break. "This is no state for a champion to be in after Kombat,"

Kuai Liang felt his heart break; he knew you always held yourself to a status that kept you worthy of the mantle that was Earthrealm's champion, but he hated to see you acting this harshly towards yourself.

As tears started forming in your eyes, you continued. "You and your brothers fight to bring honor to your clan's name; you persist no matter the challenge. How can I be a champion when I haven't done the same for Earthrealm?"

You faced the floor as tears streamed down your cheek, but Kuai Liang wouldn't let you shut yourself out from him again. Lifting your head with his index finger, Kuai Liang started wiping your tears as his hands cradled your face.

"Beloved," his voice was soft as he spoke to you. "You accepted your challenge and fought with all you had. Honor isn't about winning but fighting valiantly in the name of your clan. By engaging in Kombat for the glory of Earthrealm and its champions, you have brought honor. For that, I am proud of you as I always am."

As your tears slowed, Kuai Liang gazed into your eyes with a nod of understanding. Once you nodded back, he planted a kiss on top of your head.

Smoke

Tomas hadn't left your side since you returned home last night, and though he tried his best to conceal it, you could feel how worried he was. All of your wounds were patched up, and you were starting to feel better, but he still insisted on doing every little thing for you. It was sweet; you knew how much he cared for his loved ones, especially you, but he did know you'd be okay, right?

By the time you had woken up, Tomas was in the shower, and you were starving. It wasn't going to strain you to cook breakfast, so that's what you went to do.

You had just begun cooking when Tomas came out of the shower. When he returned to your bedroom and found the bed to be empty, he froze in fear. Frantically, he hurried around the house, looking for you. It didn't take him long to reach the kitchen where you were cooking at the stove.

"What are you doing out of bed, my love?"

You turned to see Tomas' concerned face. Smiling, in hopes you would put him at ease, you gestured to the pan of bacon on the stove.

"Cooking," you answered him. "I'm hungry; I bet you are too."

With a small frown, Tomas sighed softly as he leaned against the island, "I could've handled this." He said.

As you turned back to the stove, you nodded. "Yes, but you were in the shower. Besides, I felt like cooking."

You could hear Tomas grumbling behind you as he came closer. Suddenly, he put his hand on top of yours, trying to take the pan from you.

"I'd much prefer it if you stayed in bed, my love."

Tightening your grip, you looked back at him. "I've been in bed since yesterday evening, let me cook us breakfast."

By this point, Tomas didn't know what to do other than pout disapprovingly, but you weren't going to have it.

"Tomas," you called him. "Look at me."

With a sigh, he listened, backing up to eye you before you explained your instruction.

"I'm doing better. It's not like I'm going to fall over at the stove."

He tried to interrupt, "You don't—" But you silenced him with a hand on the center of his chest.

You continued softly. "Go sit down and wait for your food."

The two of you shared a brief look before you closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. Once he did, you opened your eyes to Tomas walking to sit at the table.

Reptile

You hissed as Syzoth finished a stitch on your shoulder.

"I know it hurts, but we're almost done." He tried to calm you.

Usually, you tried to fight him when he patched you up, but you came home in pretty rough shape. The only complaining you could manage was in the form of winces and grunts. Syzoth never really minded, though. If anything you reminded him of his younger siblings when they'd hurt themselves playing.

"There," He said, putting the needle down. "You'll be fine in a few days."

As Syzoth looked at you with a soft face, you couldn't help feeling a small sense of shame.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, playing with your hands in your lap.

Syzoth tilted his head at you. "For what?"

"I can be so stubborn when you're only trying to help."

An incredulous slithering laugh started to leave Syzoth at your words, confusing you a bit. Putting your hands in his, Syzoth looked into your eyes.

"Firefly, I have faced much worse than you upset about getting a few stitches. As long as you're okay, you can bicker and grunt at me all you like."

Syzoth kissed you on the forehead before leading you to the bed.

"I never did ask how your opponent ended up." He looked over at you.

With a proud smile, you answered him. "Let's just say if I was injured the same, would have done more than bicker at you."

[dustmusings]

playing pretend

Rex x F!Reader / Bi!Reader

word count: 4.2k

description: Rex is a good friend of yours, and any good friend would teach you how to flirt, right?

warnings: reader is bisexual, a few suggestive lines of dialogue/sexual innuendo, friends to lovers, that's it I think

a/n: I really went back and forth on whether to make the reader bi or not lmao. I suppose it could get less reads because of it but eh. at the end of the day I write for my own enjoyment, so here it is

You drummed your fingers unrhythmically on the table, watching your ‘target’, so to speak, from across the bar. You pursed your lips, brows drawn together in concentration as your mind worked something up.

“Are you-”

“I’m finding it” You cut off the clone Captain, holding your hand up as you continued watching the woman at the bar.

She was honestly gorgeous, you couldn't have possibly missed her when she walked in. Her hair falling to her jaw and hanging over her forehead and into her eyes, those big blue eyes…

Okay. Maybe you were getting a little ahead of yourself, you didn't even know the woman. But you wanted to know her, and that was enough.

“Nothing is going to happen if you just keep staring, you know” Rex informed you with a teasing grin, and you directed a lazy scowl in his direction.

“I'm aware, just give me a minute” You turned back to watch the woman once more.

She was now on her tiptoes, leaning over the bar a little to talk to the bartender, and you gulped, looking back to Rex. His expression was nothing short of amused, watching you fawn over this mystery woman and not having the guts to go and speak to her.

“You're really not helping right now” You grumbled, and he just grinned back at you, shrugging.

“I know, it's funnier just to watch”

“Some friend you are” You rolled your eyes, but there was no real animosity behind it.

You and Rex had been friends for a number of years, with you working as an engineer in the heart of the Republic. You didn't get to see him very often anymore, especially not with the war stretching the GAR so thin, so you cherished these moments you did get with him. You felt sort of bad, having gone to the bar to catch up with him and now having your eyes glued to someone else.

“I can't understand what the fuss is all about” Rex admitted as he took a swig of his drink.

“What? You must be joking” You laughed, “She's probably the most stunning person I've ever seen”

Rex scrunched his nose a little, a shrug in his shoulders, “Eh, not my type”

You blew out a long breath, shaking your head disapprovingly, “You're missing out then”

“Seems you'll be missing out too” He replied quickly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nudged his shoulder a little, “Once again, not helping”

You let your eyes wander back to the woman in question, who was somehow still alone, and now holding a drink. She was stood leaning her back against the bar, her eyes scanning the room as she swirled her drink with the straw provided.

You sighed, but it wasn't a dreamy sigh of admiration, it was shallow and exasperated. Rex frowned a little, the heavy breath audible even over the loud volume of the bar. He bit into his cheek a little before he spoke.

“What's actually stopping you from going over?” He asked, the sincerity in his voice surprising you.

You turned to look at him again, and found the look he was giving you to be all too inviting. You shifted in your seat a little, looking down to your lap and musing on how it was exactly that kind of look, from his eyes specifically, that made you so nervous to go and speak to the woman.

You had always secretly harboured some more-than-friendly feelings for the Captain, and had tried to make that known. After a while of trying, you presumed he was deliberately ignoring your advances in the hopes that you'd stop, so you did. Though it didn't stop the way your heart raced when his amber eyes met yours with such an intensity as they just had.

Truthfully, it was the complicated feelings that you had for the Captain that had shaken your confidence, and you found yourself unable to even try. Especially with him sat right there.

It was particularly odd. In every other aspect of your life, you were reasonably confident, or at least sure of yourself and your abilities. However when it came to the realm of romance, you had no such luck.

You couldn't tell Rex that it was your ridiculous crush on him that made you feel this way, you know he would blame himself and just keep apologising for ever shaking your self-worth. Though, it wasn't his fault, it was you.

You, ever the romantic, that loved far more easily and deeply than apparently anyone else.

“I'm just no good at… flirting, and… all that stuff” You admitted, your voice a little quieter than it had been the moment before.

Rex studied you carefully, his eyes scanning your suddenly nervous demeanour.

“That's bullshit”

Your gaze snapped back to him, your expression almost scandalised, “What?”

“You're so outgoing, there's no way” He argued, but you just shook your head at him.

“It's not just about being outgoing” You countered.

“Then what is it about?” He crossed his arms, leaning forward so that his elbows rested against the table.

You laughed airily, “I'm not sure, why don't you tell me?”

“You want flirting advice from me?” Rex smirked a little, one eyebrow lifted as his eyes bored into you.

“No, I-” You rolled your eyes once again, then came to a stop, “I guess that's not a bad idea actually”

Rex was a little bemused, you could see that much plain as day on his features. He bit into his lip a little, watching you with concentrated eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I'll give it a shot” He conceded, and you gave him a small grin.

“Okay then, where do we begin Master Rex?" You asked with a slight air of teasing.

“Please don't call me that” He huffed, shaking his head, “But I don't know, what's your usual approach?”

You should know. You couldn't stop yourself thinking it.

“Uh…” You thought for a moment. What was your usual approach? “I guess I try a compliment, and then if that lands, I… try and work whatever response they give into some kinda… story, a tidbit, an explanation, that sort of thing. To get talking or whatever”

“Right” Rex frowned for just a second before his expression returned to neutral. You almost thought you'd imagined it. “And that doesn't work?”

You huffed, “Well obviously not, if it hasn't got me anywhere yet”

Rex hummed thoughtfully, giving you an odd sort of look that you really couldn't place.

“What is it?” You asked. You were open enough with him that you could ask freely and you knew he'd give you an honest answer.

“Nothing” He dismissed it.

At least, you thought he'd give you an honest answer.

“Okay, why don't you try flirting with me and we can see where it's going wrong” He suggested, his regular demeanour returning.

You gave him your best disgusted look, “Flirt with you? No thanks”

He just rolled his eyes, “It's just pretend, come on”

“Pretend or not, it's still you” You pointed out, desperately trying to contest the way your body was reacting to the thought of actually flirting with Rex. Or more accurately, Rex flirting with you.

“Oh please, you should be so lucky” He pushed at your side a little, his face pulled into a teasing smile.

Oh, how right he was.

“Come on, humour me” He urged.

You sighed aggressively, giving in, “Fine”

The task was a lot easier said than done. What could you say to Rex that could go under the radar enough that he wouldn't realise you were actually interested in him? Your mind drew a blank.

But those eyes… the ones that drew you in like nothing else, they were just watching you, same as ever. Could you really compliment his eyes? Or would that be too much? Had you complimented his eyes all those moons ago when you had tried to gain his attention? You couldn't remember.

“Say Rex” You gave your best over-the-top voice, accompanying it with a sickly sweet smile, “Did you know, you have the most wonderful brown eyes?”

Rex chuckled at your ridiculousness, “Stop fooling around, come on, do it properly”

“Hey! How do you know that wasn't me doing it properly?” You acted offended, but Rex just gave you a pointed look and you huffed, “Fine, fine”

You knew what Rex was like, always too eager to help, so you put your ego aside for a moment and just gave in to letting him help you do this. You took a deep breath before beginning, mustering up a little courage.

“You know Rex…” You began, your tone regular with an extra hint of wonder, and leaning ever so slightly towards him, “I've never met anyone with eyes quite as beautiful as yours”

It was said in such earnest, almost wistfully, that Rex actually seemed a little startled. He quickly recovered though, and leant in a fraction himself, continuing the simulation.

“That right?” He hummed, looking at you down his nose a little, “You can't have met very many people in your life then”

You frowned, though your lips indicated a small smirk, “Don't sell yourself short Captain, It's true!” You insisted, “They're very captivating. Some might say they were brown, though I might say they were more amber than anything, and-” You leaned in even closer, your eyes narrowing a fraction as they looked into his, “That's right, there's a little bit of gold in there too”

Rex was thoroughly captivated. He wondered how you could say you were bad at flirting when you had him absolutely wrapped around your finger in only two lines. Not only was it your words, but it was everything else too. Everything about you. Your presence enveloping him, your face so close to his, your eyes searching his so deeply, inspecting him in a way that made him feel alive rather than scrutinised. It was enough to make him weak in the knees, so he was thankful for being sat down.

“I think you're just saying that” He spoke lowly, giving you a chance to back down, to take it back.

You shook your head resolutely, your smirk blooming, “I'm not a liar if that's what you're accusing me of”

“I wasn't-” Rex's voice was taken from him at the feel of your hand resting atop his thigh. He had armour on, of course, but had he known you were going to do that, he would have dressed down in civvies this evening. Even the light weight of your hand, the knowledge that it was there, was all that was needed to send his heart into overdrive.

“What was that, Captain?” You teased.

He gave you a look of warning, though it wasn't anywhere near as serious as he was pretending.

“Loth-cat got your tongue?” You purred, your eyes flicking down to his lips and back up again.

Rex was being driven insane. He tried to remind himself that you were just pretending, in a little game that he had suggested, no less, but that was doing little to quell the desire he felt for you.

“You know, if that loth-cat could be so kind as to give it back, I'm sure we could find another use for it” You spoke quietly, your gaze intense as you said the most daring line yet.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the alcohol in your system having loosened your lips, but your nerves were far from durasteel. You realised how close you had really got to him then, your leg pressed into his as your hand rested on his thigh, your mouth maybe an inch from his.

Rex spoke your name in a low tone. It sounded breathless, but like some sort of warning nonetheless. You maintained your composure as you drew away from him, as if to act like nothing was wrong, like you hadn't crossed a line.

“So, how'd I do?” You asked nonchalantly. You could feel your cheeks burning, so far from feeling calm and relaxed like you tried to appear.

Rex took a moment to come back to himself. He had been so completely lost in the moment, and though he kept trying to remind himself, he had forgotten it was supposedly all to help you learn how to flirt. His heart ached a little at the full realisation of that fact.

“Uh-” Rex cleared his throat, “Yeah, that was good”

“Any pointers?”

“Nope” Rex said, a little too quickly, and looked towards the bar, “You should get going if you want to catch her alone”

You brows drew together in confusion for a second, then you followed his line of sight to the woman, who still stood at the bar. Suddenly the prospect didn't seem as exciting.

“Right, yeah” You struggled to get a smile back onto your face, and you were sure it must've looked more like a grimace. “Wish me luck” You added, slinking out from the booth you both inhabited.

You didn't wait for his reply, you were honestly too mortified by the whole ordeal. Maker, what were you thinking? At least now speaking to this woman wouldn't be the scariest thing you did this evening.

Rex watched you walk up to the woman with the utmost confidence and begin talking to her as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He couldn't help the twist of jealousy in his gut as she seemed to respond to your advances, and the two of you settled into a conversation. Though soon enough, the woman looked towards him and pointed, which made you turn and look at him. He had no idea what was going on, but luckily you trudged back to the table to let him know shortly thereafter.

“She wasn't into girls” You grumbled, slouching back into the booth.

“Ah, I'm sorry about that” Rex said as honestly as he could. He meant it, in certain ways. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be rejected for that reason, so he did feel for you, but he would be lying to say he was sad that you stopped flirting with someone else.

Rex desperately wanted all of your attention on him again, the way he did just minutes ago. You were almost as close as you had been before, your knee almost touching his, but it wasn't enough.

“Eh, it's fine. She was nice about it at least” You shrugged. “She was pretty interested in you though” You added with a small smirk, looking over at Rex to gauge his reaction.

“Oh” He seemed a little surprised, “Really?”

You nodded, “I think she wanted you to go over”

“Uh…” Rex frowned a little, his eyes flicking towards the woman and back to you, “I'm good. It's like I said, not my type”

“If you say so” You rolled your eyes a little, “What even is your type then?”

Rex gave you a weary look, a small smile blooming, “I'm gonna keep that to myself”

“Why? You have a thing for Wookiees or something?” You teased with a grin.

Then it was Rex's turn to roll his eyes, “I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer”

“I'm going to believe it until you give me a different answer” You crossed your arms, a smirk taunting him.

Rex just watched you for a moment, weighing in his mind how bad it would really be to just come out and confess to the way he truly felt about you. In some ways, even if you didn’t feel the same way, it would feel better to just get it off his chest. Then he could maybe stop thinking about you when it served him well not to. Like in the middle of missions. That was really quite irritating.

He settled on, “I think my type is women who don’t want me”

“Yeah, you and me both” You laughed, and Rex just gave an apologetic look which you ignored, “But something tells me you're lying”

“Lying about what?”

“That women don’t want you” You said as if it was obvious.

Rex gave you a strange look, “It's really that hard to believe?”

“Yeah, I mean-” You hesitated, and you couldn't help but think it would've been less obvious to just say it confidently, “You're a nice guy, and you're good looking, what's not to like, right?”

“I'm good looking?” Rex repeated, one of his eyebrows raised.

“Alright, I said it once, don't make me say it again” You rolled your eyes to brush off the question, “Anyway, who's this girl that doesn't like you back then?”

Rex huffed, looking away from you and tracing his finger around the top of his cup, “No one, you wouldn't know her”

Your heart sunk a little, despite Rex's assertion that this woman didn't return his affections.

“Alright well why are you under the impression that she doesn’t like you?” You asked, leaning forwards onto your elbows.

“Um…” Rex tried to think of a good reason, “I'm not sure, we're good friends so it's kinda tough”

“Well have you ever actually expressed that kind of interest in her?”

Rex cast a glance over at you, “No, not exactly”

You let out a short disbelieving laugh, “Well why not? How can you expect her to know you like her if you don't even show it”

Hearing those words coming straight from your mouth only drove home how stupid he was coming to realise his actions had been.

“I'm not sure, I don’t know what I could say at this point” He shrugged, looking back into his almost empty cup.

You rolled your eyes once more, “You could just tell her you like her”

“It's not that easy” Rex sighed. It was strangely therapeutic to actually talk about it, but it was definitely a little strange to be talking to you about it.

“Why not?”

Rex didn't reply, and you watched him with interest as he chewed on his bottom lip, his finger tracing his cup again. He looked particularly deep in thought.

“Okay well, what could you say then?” You changed your approach.

“I don't know” Rex huffed and looked up at you with some kind of thoughtful expression, “Maybe you could help”

You frowned a little, “But I don't know her…?”

“Right, but…” Rex paused, “If it was you, and someone was trying to show you that they liked you, what would be good to say, or do”

“Um…” You took a moment to look away and think.

Rex took note of the look of concentration on your face and his heart swelled a little, touched that you were taking this so seriously.

“I suppose… Maybe you'd want to get a little more physically intimate with them? you can kinda test the waters that way” You said, “Nothing crazy, just some quick touches, gets them thinking about it you know? If they respond positively to that then maybe try some more lingering touches”

“Ok, got it” He said assuredly, and, following your instructions, reached over and pushed some of your hair off of your face and behind your ear.

He could hear your breath catch in your throat, and fought to keep the smirk from his face. Your eyes widened a little, and he silently took great satisfaction in it. It seemed that you had responded positively to it, which boded well, according to you.

“What then?” Rex asked, keeping his tone light and acting clueless.

“Um, then…” You began slightly nervously, “I suppose you could give them some little compliments every now and then, or observations you make about them, to show you pay attention to the small things”

“You give really good advice, you know that?” Rex asserted, leaning his head into his hand and looking at you intently.

You were absolutely frozen. Was he meaning to do this? Or was it somehow just coincidence that he seemed to be following your instructions.

“Go on” He urged, moving his leg so that his knee rested against yours, “What after that?”

You took a shallow breath, “Maybe you could… try to spend some more time with them just one-on-one, or just try to be around them more. You know, give them your full attention. If you're friends already that shouldn't be too hard”

“Okay, I can do that” Rex said in reply.

He slung his arm over the back of the booth, now facing you and locking you into his gaze. It was electrifying, and the concentrated and adoring look in his eyes was something you could definitely get used to.

“What next?” He reminded you to continue.

“Uh, I- I'm not sure, maybe something will happen in that time” You shrugged, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him.

Rex hummed thoughtfully, and placed his hand gently on your knee, lightly tracing his thumb over your skin, “What might happen?”

There was no way this was coincidence.

“Whatever you want” You murmured without giving it much prior thought, causing Rex's eyebrows to raise.

“Is that right?” He asked in a low voice, almost asking for confirmation that you understood it was you that he was interested in, that he was getting you to help in winning over yourself.

You nodded, not speaking for fear that it would just be an undignified squeak.

“Well, if that's the case…” He spoke with a smirk.

He then slowly slid his hand up your outer thigh, his eyes still locked with yours, and he pulled you towards him and onto his lap so that you were straddling his legs. Your breath had been stolen from you, and you let your hands rest against Rex’s chest as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, his hands resting on your hips as he made sure.

“More than” You confirmed breathlessly, and his lips quirked into a half-smile, half-smirk.

“Good” He whispered, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I think this is a little overdue”

The feel of his lips against yours far superseded anything you had ever imagined, and it was something that you had thought about a lot. Though now, with it actually happening, your mind was empty, drained of thoughts and letting him take over everything.

His lips captured yours with a passion that had been long held back, and it was clear that he was done being secretive about it. He needed you to know just how long he had wanted this, how much he desired you. His hands held you hips firmly, fighting the urge to pull you into him further as you snaked your hand around his neck and deepened the kiss. You ran your fingernails gently down the back of his neck, and he shivered in response, his grip on you tightening.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his to regain the breath that had been so fervidly taken from you. When you opened your eyes and met his, you both started to laugh. It was almost too good to be true, and equally baffling that it was happening, after being just friends for so many years.

Rex grinned at you, shrugging a shoulder, “Like I said, a bit overdue”

“I'd say more than a bit” You argued with a wide smile.

Rex chuckled, “I mean, I have been waiting years, so yeah. More than a bit”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, pushing his shoulder a little, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He challenged.

You pursed your lips, “Hm. Touché”

“Doesn't matter now” Rex said in a murmur, and brought his lips to yours once more.

This kiss was much more reserved. Ardent but quick, an evident deep affection being shared. You missed the feeling of it immediately, chasing after his lips when he pulled away.

“Hey now, no need to be so eager” Rex chuckled teasingly.

You gave him a mock frown and a small irritated whine, and he laughed again.

“All in good time Mesh'la” He spoke smoothly, one hand coming to rest against your cheek, “Why don't we get out of here? We could even test out some of those other uses for my tongue”

Your eyes widened, remembering your earlier words, and then a small victorious smirk wound its way onto your face, “I think that sounds like a good idea”

[storiesforallfandoms]

icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn

word count: 3688

request?: no

description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him

pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.

And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.

I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.

"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.

I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.

I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.

Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.

I am not joking.

Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.

Obviously, that had changed.

Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."

Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.

I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.

But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.

Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.

As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.

My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"

I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.

But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.

"That's...um...my hoodie."

I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.

"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.

"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."

I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.

"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."

I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?

I just shrugged in response.

My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.

But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."

There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.

It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."

"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.

But of course, luck was not on my side.

Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."

Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."

"Just...please, (Y/N)."

And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.

It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.

I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.

Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.

I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"

He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"

I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."

He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."

So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.

"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."

I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."

"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"

"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."

Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "

"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."

He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."

He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "

He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.

I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."

He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.

~~~~~~

As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.

Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.

Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.

I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.

On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.

"Must be an interesting novel."

I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"

"I just got back from filming."

"Good for you."

"I...I was hoping you were home."

"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."

"(Y/N), can we just talk?"

I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."

"We broke up!"

I stopped. "What?"

"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"

"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."

Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.

I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.

"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."

"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."

I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"

"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."

"I would've taken a break," I told him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."

"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."

I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.

"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."

He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"

"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."

We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.

"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."

"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."

I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.

[musevinnie]

ᴄᴀʙɪɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ - ᴠɪɴɴɪᴇ ʜᴀᴄᴋᴇʀ

Description : You and Vinnie have been best friends for a long time. The friend group decided to plan a little getaway to a cabin. And after a little game of truth or dare things come to light.

Warning: smut. p in v. unprotected sex. breeding kink. dirty talk. finishing inside. fingering

a/n- haven't proofread it

Okay Vinnie your turn, truth or dare. One of the friends, Justin called out to him. He thought for a moment and took a swing of his beer.

"You know what, hit me with it. I pick Truth." he said taking another chug of the beer.

Justin smirked to himself known what exactly he was doing. He knows Vinnie has feelings for you. So he just wants Vinnie to finally confess because he's tired of hearing; "isn't y/n so pretty", "do you think we will make a good couple", "what would our kids look like".

It was sickening.

"Okay Vinnie Boy. Name the person of the you are in love with."

Vinnie eyes widen! And you quickly turned your head and look at Vinnie.

"WHAT! You are in love with someone and haven't told me anything. I thought we told each other everything?"

Vinnie face was turning bright red and got up. "Im done playing this stupid game"

And with that Vinnie went into his room he was staying at in the cabin. Everything got quiet and the vibes went down. You quickly got up and followed Vinnie into the room where he vanished into.

You saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, You closed the door and sat down next to him. "Hey what was that about?"

Vinnie was not looking at you. "Nothing it was a stupid game and a stupid question."

He runs a hand through is hair. "I just didn't expect Justin to call me out like that okay. It's embarrassing, he knows that I love-"

You took a deep breath, you've always loved Vinnie ever since you both were in high school. You know you should be happy for him but the thought of him loving someone else breaks your heart.

You move a few curls outta his face. "Who is she?" you smiled. Still wanting to support him over anything.

Vinnie took a deep breath and looked at you. "She the girl I been in love with since high school. The same girl I think about before going to sleep and the girl I think about waking up. My best friend. The girl I see myself marrying and having kids with."

Happy tears fill your eyes and Vinnie captures your lips on his. "I love you y/n, I love you so much."

You tackled him and kissed him back making you both fall back on the bed. Vinnie smiled into the kiss. You prepped little kisses all over his face.

"I love you too Vinnie"

Vinnie moved on top of you not breaking the kiss. It started slow and passionate. Both of you feeling a rush of emotion after hiding how you both feel for each other only for you both to have the same feelings for each other.

Vinnie's hands start to roam your body. Without a second thought vinnie pulls down your skirt. You let out a moan. Vinnie lets out a chuckle and kisses you again.

"Baby you gotta be quite wouldn't want others to know how desperate you are for my cock"

You try to hold in a moan. Vinnie is just admiring and worshiping your body. In one swift move he hooks his fingers to your panties pulling them off.

He starts kissing your thighs, you letting out another moan.

"Baby, I will stop if you cant keep quiet." he teased

You bit into the sheet, getting frustrated with his teasing.

Vinnie takes off the last of your remaining clothing and kisses your stomach.

"Don't be impatient baby I'm want to worship this sexy little body of yours until you're screaming my name."

Vinnie was about to continue until he realized something.

"Shit babe I don't have a condom maybe Justin-"

You pulled him into a kiss. "And who says we need one?"

He starts attacking your neck leaving love bites and hickeys.

"Baby girl once we cross this line we wont be coming back. This means you are mine and mine alone."

In the blink of an eyes Vinnie was now fully nude too.

He starts kissing down your stomach stoping at your inner thigh. "Can't wait to taste every inch of you" Without a warning he enters to fingers into you.

"This sweet little cunt is all mine" He removes his finger and put them in your mouth.

"Vinnie stop teasing I need you now." you moan

"Such an impatient little thing aren't we? But only because you are my good girl you can have this dick now."

He positioned himself at your entrance and started rubbing the tip of his thick cock against your folds. At this point you both didn't care if the others heard you were a moaning mess.

"That's it princess take my cock like a good girl let everyone hear your pretty little moans." He praised you as he kept thrusting. He groan as he felt you clenching around him.

Your moan kept getting louder. "Baby I wont be able to hold in it any longer."

"Come for me baby girl, show me how much you love this big dick stretching out your tight little cunt."

That was your breaking point and you felt your orgasm rip through you making Vinnie follow right after.

You thought that was the end but it wasn't at least not for Vinnie. He kept going. "So pretty baby, letting me come in you. Is the thought of carrying my child getting you off?"

He picked up his pace. "Yes Vinnie, omg yes." You felt your next orgasm not too far behind.

"That's it babygirl. My good pretty girl" His thrusts were getting deeper. "Soon you'll be carrying my child no baby you will be carrying OUR child."

One final thrust and he releases his hot seed deep in you. Vinnie falls back on the bed and pulls you closer and kissing your head. Both of you feeling content and happy with what went down.

After a few minutes of coming back to earth you both are giggling and stealing a few kisses. Vinnie picking you up bride style to take you to the bathroom for a much needed bubble bath.

Until you hear a knock on the door. Only to hear Justin's voice from the other side. "Ya so can I be god father of mini vinnie or mini y/n?" he laughed.

[oddheadd]

Frostbite °• : ⁠｡ - Chapter III

Skinwalker/Wendigo x reader

CW: Gross things like rotting :P

SMUT!! Rough sex, voyerism, non-consentual at the end(?)

I couldn't sleep last night. The screaming kept me awake.

Screaming? It sounded animalistic, the broken voice desperately wheezing and calling for attention. I've heard Jackals can make sounds like that... Even so, I laid there helplessly, clutching my pillow and worrying about whether I locked my doors or not. I was too scared to check them, so I just kept staring at the curtains, my heart almost popping out of its place as I tried to look away from them.

I couldn't, and at about 5-6 am, when the screaming had stopped, I dozed off. I later woke up at 4 pm, and weirdly enough, I was inspired to write some more. I put my nightly terror into descriptive paragraphs and created a monster.

One with long, grey, skinny limbs and hair thin enough to see it's pure white eyes through it... Rotten teeth caging the slithering maggots in its hollow mouth.

I take a deep breath and close my laptop. I grab my phone and see that Nathan had texted me last night.

"Do you drink?"

I can't help but smile and instantly start typing.

"after whatever the hell happened last night, I do."

I put my phone away and make myself a quick meal. My phone buzzes.

"And what happned?"

I chuckle at his misspelling.

"I heard someone or something screaming. I couldn't sleep all night :("

He answers quickly;

"Jackals?"

And I answer just as fast.

"Kind of... It had an artificial echo to it? Don't know how to explain."

I purse my lips and put my phone down. Taking a bite out of the poor excuse of a meal.

"You could demonstrate, when I take you to a bar in the town."

Smile grows on my face as I reread his messages. I should go, what's the worst that can happen? So, we text each other the details and it's a date!

I leave the cabin and decide to look around the village this time. Ain't no way I'm going into the forest after last night.

I try my best to remember the way home as I walk past the other cabins. I admire the architecture - simple, but charming nonetheless. Then I spot a girl, no older than nine looking at me through the window. I smile and give her a wave.

She stays still and keeps staring at me. My hand falls back to my side, and so does my smile. I avoid her gaze and keep walking. It's the new generation, I guess?

I take a few pictures and maybe make a few angels in the snow, before I see an old woman, just barely walking. I approach her. - "Hello, want me to walk you home?"

I get a better look at her face. It's wrinkled, as if her skin is melting off her face. Her eyes are marble like, despite here irises being as dark as coals. I can barely make out her lips that stretch into an uncanny line. Her hair so thin, she looks like she's balding.

She looks at me before her face scrunches up, even more, into a scowl. - "...What are you doing here?" - My mood falters.

"...I used to come here as a child... My mother passed and I decided to visit for a while." - I explain myself. She raises an eyebrow and grabs my arm for support.

"(Your mother)'s kid. You've... Changed, quite a bit."

I tilt my head. - "Do I know you?"

"You'd always sneak in and play in my father's yard. You used to be an annoying, little rascal."

I chuckle awkwardly. - "I get that a lot. So you live down the road?"

"You've become... A very appetizing person." - She says, avoiding my question. I try not to think about her weird wording.

"...Thank you?" - I say after a long pause.

"I used to be like you. Maybe my skin was healthier." - She scoffs, bits of her saliva falling out of her mouth. - "...Not fair... At all." - she sighs.

I stay quiet as she rambles, a little more comfortable now that we've approached her cabin.

"But whatever it wants, it gets." - She says. She tightens her grip. - "Count yourself lucky, being able to serve it like that."

After that I head straight to my cabin. I can't wait to drink with Nathan tonight.

I don't want to seem like a City-Person asshole, but this place, along with it's people is odd.

Now as I sit on a step of my porch, my ass literally freezing off, I start to feel disappointed. He promised he'd pick me up, but now I'm getting worried he got lost and mauled.

Tiny snowflakes start falling, adding onto the already layered snow that's coating the ground. I sigh and check my phone again. My frown intensifies, when I see there's no new messages.

I almost fall off the step when I see a figure in the corner of my eye.

"Jesus, Nathan. Do you always have to scare me like that?" - I rest my palm on my chest, dramatically so.

He flashes me a Cheshire grin - "Sorry."

I get off the porch and shove my hands into my pockets, a wave of disappointment washing over me when the pockets are just as cold.

"I thought the huge deer got to you." - I tease.

He narrows his eyes. - "I'm at the top of the food chain, you don't have to worry about stuff like that." - He brags and gives me his hand. I take it with a snort, his hands as cold as mine. - "I don't think we can make it to the Bar, it's too far away. And, it's getting dark."

I pout. He chuckles. - "But I know how to make it up to you~" - He says and takes out a flask from his coat.

I raise an eyebrow. - "Charming."

I then walk back to the front door of the cabin and unlock it, going inside. - "Come on in, I'm freezing." - I complain and look at him.

He follows after me with a smile and looks around. - "It's pretty cozy in here."

I chuckle and sit him down onto the couch. - "I think we have some old wine in the attic. I'll get it, try not to miss me too much."

"Don't worry, I'm patient." - he smiles softly.

I turn on the flashlight on my phone after a hard struggle against the attic door, coughing my lungs out when the dust flies around in the air. I climb up and start looking around the boxes for the wine.

I smile when I finally find it. There's two blood red bottles with no distinct label on them, so I pick them up. My smile falls as I see a... Doll? It's made out of straws, clearly resembling a human body. I pick it up and inspect further. Is this a hex? I put it back down and get up, chills running down my spine when I notice a big red symbol on the wall. I stare at it for a while before turning around and leaving with the bottles in my hands.

I have a guest right now and I don't want to freak him out. I'll deal with... Whatever this is, later.

On my way, I go into the kitchen to get glasses.

"I only have mugs and teacups, no fancy glasses." - I say before grabbing the cups and sitting next to him. He throws his arm around my shoulder.

"I don't look like the fancy type though, do I?" - He chuckles and I shrug.

I pour us some wine and sip from my cup. - "So, why did you move here again?"

"Nature always called out to me." - He shrugs. - "And you, Y/N? What's your job and why did you come here?"

I purce my lips. - "Well, I'm a writer. I've written some stuff but nothing special, really. No "New York best sellers". I wanted to write a horror book and came here to set the mood, ya know?"

"And how's that working out?" - He tilts his head.

I sigh. - "I'm having the worst writer's block I've ever had. Barely wrote a few pages."

"Let's see then." - He says, and I hesitantly agree. I grab my laptop and open the file, handing it to him.

I stand up and approach the fireplace, tending to it as he reads for a while.

"It's great." - He smiles and I look back at him.

"Is it?"

"A little complaint... You're trying too hard to explain all the details. Reading is all about letting people warp characters and places into whatever their mind makes up."

"...That makes a lot of sense, actually." - I sit back next to him. - "Can you help me?"

He eyes me and nods.

I don't know how much time passes, but we're now sitting on the floor and already have finished the second bottle of wine, now taking turns on taking a swing out of Nathan's flask. I've been taking notes, typing away furiously.

As I let out a deep breath, I look up from my laptop screen and the whole room starts spinning. I grunt and put the gadget away, placing my head in Nathan's lap. He chuckles and strokes my hair. - "Are you alright?"

"...A little tired. And dizzy." - I pout. Nathan just keeps smiling and sits me up again, making me look at him by taking my chin in-between his fingers.

I keep looking into his eyes and his smile never falters, only getting closer to my own lips. I instinctively close my eyes and part my lips a little, almost melting into Nathan's arms when they connect with his.

My heated cheeks heat up even more when he lays me down onto the soft, warm carpet and lets out a deep groan.

Then I can't even comprehend what happened, when I look to my side and see both mine and his clothes on the floor. Then I feel his erected cock, rubbing against me and realize I'm not wearing any underwear either. I look back at him and pull him into a kiss again, moaning in delight. He then pushes it inside of me, spreading the walls to make more room for himself and and starts gently grinding it deeper in and out of me.

I lose track of time and what's happening again, and this time feel him mercilessly thrusting his hips against my ass, almost steaming air of heat spreading into the whole room while his rough fingers caress all the right spots. I let out moans and whimpers in-between my breaths, while he muffles his in my collarbone.

"Don't stop... Fuck, Nathan..." - I moan out his name and he looks up at me.

He then runs his fingers through my hair pulls my head back, giving me a view of the rest of the room, before he buries his face into my neck and leaves a trail of sloppy kisses.

I get closer to cumming, feeling myself spasm and squeeze around him, before I notice something in the windows. There are people outside my cabin... Naked people. They're chanting something, their lips mouthing something incoherent to me while drawing a symbol on the windows...

It's the same symbol as the one in my attic. I huff and try to stop Nathan but he can't even see my expression with his head buried into my neck. I shut my eyes and try my best not to cry... And soon enough, pass out.