#like get up & do what ? CLEAN ? AGAIN ? be a PERSON ? AGAIN ?

[simpjaes]

SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY

When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it.  or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you. 

MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 13.6k

CONTENT―  he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.

nsfw tags under cut::

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.

A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.

She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.

Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises. 

“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–” 

The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her. 

“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.” 

You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry. 

And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job. 

Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush. 

When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird.  She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope. 

Suspicious.

Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back. 

Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you. 

Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?

Best Friend: you need it, trust me. 

So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look? 

He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”

Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs. 

“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him. 

You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space. 

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag. 

“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle. 

“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. 

“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.

“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows. 

Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you? 

Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough. 

“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.

You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness. 

“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights. 

You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one. 

“Little more.” He smiles

You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture. 

“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.

And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile. 

Stunning. 

This motherfucker is stunning. 

“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.” 

You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are. 

At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice. 

If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder. 

You’re uncomfortable. 

The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation. 

You’ve never been one to care, so why start now? 

“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship.  Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves. 

No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business. 

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…

Expensive. 

Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too. 

You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet. 

One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this. 

And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state. 

The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura. 

The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.

His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him. 

Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.

You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs. 

Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.

He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away. 

Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.

“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.” 

That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows. 

You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move. 

“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”

Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be. 

He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client. 

“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.” 

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule. 

And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable. 

Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.

The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given. 

And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend. 

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again. 

He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like. 

“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.

Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. 

He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind. 

This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.

He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type. 

And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this. 

The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.

Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable. 

You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless. 

And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.

As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile. 

In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him. 

He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.

He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves. 

Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.

The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.

This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.

He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking. 

Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal. 

And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you. 

It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen. 

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him. 

Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.

He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you. 

You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on. 

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”

Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.

You.

On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.

And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night. 

Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod. 

He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you. 

And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.

“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately. 

He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face. 

“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there. 

“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all  of my clients.” 

Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate. 

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward. 

“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..  

Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”

You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.

Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest. 

“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here. 

“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”

Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.

“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his. 

“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.

You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants. 

“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”

To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you. 

His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you. 

And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.

Are you…waiting to be told what to do? 

For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you. 

“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show. 

Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through. 

He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.  

It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait. 

“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.

You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down. 

Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”  

You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power. 

Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. 

Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands. 

“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here. 

It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way. 

“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence. 

In fact, he’s hiding his face.

You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him. 

The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.

“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?” 

It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients. 

“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.

Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction. 

“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?” 

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you. 

“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now. 

“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”

A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.

“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.” 

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please. 

“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”

“Go on then, dance.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along. 

He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.

So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin. 

  And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there. 

“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”

Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy. 

“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.” 

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. 

You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. 

Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this. 

“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you. 

Oh. 

“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line. 

“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?” 

You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him. 

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him. 

He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.

“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.” 

Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers. 

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier. 

“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it. 

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”

That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties. 

Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you. 

And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.

“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you. 

“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are. 

“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”

Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him. 

And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out. 

He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you. 

“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”

He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.

Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.

“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”

And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster. 

Painfully faster.

“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”

And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.

It’s…overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out. 

When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck. 

And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again. 

His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it. 

“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know. 

This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate. 

Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either. 

Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.

His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. 

His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it. 

“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his. 

Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend? 

The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?

Yes.

“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.

And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.

“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it. 

He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered. 

“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”

Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted. 

You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers. 

Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue. 

“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy. 

To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.

“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?” 

To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours. 

His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.

The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.

His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.

It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.

You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking. 

“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often. 

And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.

You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.

“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this. 

And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure. 

Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows. 

“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will. 

And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back. 

He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.

“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.

“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. 

“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring. 

And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis. 

If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence. 

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.

“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”

Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you. 

You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again. 

Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now. 

He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it. 

And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.

When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace. 

And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?

“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.

“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”

The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.

Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside. 

Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.

“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”

“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.” 

Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did. 

“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even. 

He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him. 

Surprisingly, you believe him. 

After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest. 

Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn. 

So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.

Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable. 

Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.

“Wait, you’re serious?” 

You nod shyly, blinking at him.

“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”

Jake nods happily, without question even.

“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“Jerk off like a normal person?”

Fair enough.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D

[lamefish]

kento nanami is an anniversary man. nsfw

you think it's sweet, how he has the date of big events in his life on memory. when it's a loss, he'll take the day off to remember, with his head in your lap as he tells stories of whomever has passed. you listen intently, ask questions about them and watch as your husband recounts every good thing about a person.

he celebrates the good, too. almost excessively. the date you met is circled on the calendar, and kento will wake you up with breakfast in bed and a day of doting to show you just how important this anniversary is to him. you turned his world upside down in the best of ways, and what kind of man is he if not one to celebrate the light in his life?

of course, your wedding anniversary too. it's the one he goes all out for: more often than not you put a weekend aside to take a trip and spend some uninterrupted time together. you'll act as newlyweds again, because you still feel like newlyweds despite the passing years, and you'll be reminded over and over just how lucky you are to have found your soulmate in a man like kento nanami.

a man who is sentimental, and so very in love with you. and also celebrates the first time you had sex.

that first year, he had spent the day doting on you so profusely that you were convinced he was going to propose. he was pulling out all of the stops, taking you out fopr an expensive meal, dosing you with fine wines and so many kisses you could get drunk off the taste of him alone. he took you home, ran you a scented bath and took care of the house while you relaxed.

and of course the night ended in mind blowing sex—as your nights usually do. he had insisted on fucking you in missionary despite his recent penchant for taking you from behind and, once he has ripped two orgasms from you and was working on your third, he let it slip.

“we made love for the first time a year ago today,” he whispers against your lips, cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches deep inside of you. “just like this—looking into each others eyes, three orgasms from you, two from me. fell in love with you that night, do you know that honey?”

“you kept track of the day?” you cant finish your sentence without a moan breaking from your throat. “kento, you’re something else.”

“of course i did. it’s an important date, reaching such intimacies—feeling these beautiful velvet walls of yours for the first time… i’ll never forget it.”

you laugh, though it’s quickly swallowed by a kiss from your lover. he rocks his hips into you, feels every inch of his veiny cock disappear inside. he looks down to watch himself sink into you, though his gaze his brought back when you speak.

“three.”

kento blinks. “three what?”

“orgasms from you. you said you had two, but you came a third time right at the end—i milked you dry and you were so sex-drunk and exhausted but you insisted on making me food.” you reach down and grab his hand, the one that had been cupping at your chest, and hold it up for him to see the gentle scar that runs across his thumb. “you cut yourself slicing the bread because i fucked you mindless.”

it comes back to him in gentle flashes. you had, in fact, milked him of a third release. he had just been so out of his mind with nerves and pleasure that the memory had washed itself clean from his mind. he scolds himself mentally for ever daring to forget a detail about being intimate with you, but smiles.

“i remember,” he says. “you told me sex made you hungry so i wanted to incorporate it into your aftercare…”

“silly man,” you wrap your legs around his waist and lick your ankles behind him. with a gentle nudge, he’s forced that tiny bit deeper inside of you. “my silly man.”

kento moans—his eyes flutter shut and his lips catch between his teeth. he adores you—he really does. so much so that the sheer memory of his first time with you is quickly becoming too powerful of a memory to have.

and you, his beautiful other half, laid beneath him with lustful eyes and parted lips, smile up at him. “are we recreating our first time, ken? is that what this is?”

he nods, a little wordless as he tries to keep his mind straight.

“then i think you know what i’m going to do to you, my love.”

he smiles. “milk me for all i have. it’s all yours anyways.”

you lean up and kiss him. it’s slow, gentle, like your first kiss with him was. you taste him wholly on your lips and thank all the divine beings that may exist for putting such a man in your life’s trajectory. his cock twitches inside of you, he fills you out so perfectly.

still, you smile as you roll your hips up to meet his. “just let me handle the aftercare this time.”

[rafeshit]

babydaddy!rafe x mom!reader

warnings — MDNI kissing, sexual acts, and tensionn :)

summary — you had a bad date and rafe picks you up on his motorcycle and things get tense

—

you sit across from your date, trying to force a smile as he drones on about his job as an accountant. The conversation has been stilted from the start, and you glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time. You're desperate to get out of here, but your brother topper is busy at work and you can't call him to rescue you like you normally would and your mother was babysitting baby wren, the child you had 3 months ago.

you have been going out on dates every weekend in hopes of finding a fitting father for wren, but anytime you would bring up your baby girl each guy would make a fatal mistake — they would not even consider or shied away from asking questions about the most important person in your life. Which is this dates mistake, he would only talk about himself and what he’s interested in. you needed to leave.

you quickly dial the number of your brother's best friend and your baby daddy, rafe as your last resort. You've only talked to him a few times since the birth of your baby, and that was much better than the no-contact you had with him during your whole pregnancy. the baby was purely a mistake and after some disagreements you had broken up because of his drug usage.

you were so stubborn with him that he hasn’t met his child since the birth. You knew you were wrong for that but you couldn’t trust him, especially with his drug problem but you would update him about her progress and he would beg to see her — to which you were never ready to do. But nonetheless rafe would prove he was clean by monthly drug tests, and if you were honest with yourself you knew it wasn’t just the drugs that was keeping him from wren. It was because you knew that if you saw your baby in his arms you would want him back.

rafe answers on the first ring, and you pray he can sense the urgency in your voice. "rafe, I need a favor. I'm on a really bad date and I need you to come get me." You try to keep your voice low, because you lied to your date saying you had an urgent call that needed to be answered.

"Yeah, I'm on my way. Where are you?" He quickly says. You tell him the name of the restaurant, trying to keep your eyes from meeting your date's annoyed gaze. You hang up the phone and you can tell your date is getting suspicious, and you don't want to make things worse. You try to make small talk, but it's clear he's not buying it. He's getting angry, and you're getting scared.

You wait, feeling more and more trapped as the minutes tick by. Your date seems to sense your restlessness and starts to get agitated, his voice rising as he complains about how rude you're being. You try to stay calm, but your trapped, and you need Rafe to get here fast. You glance around the restaurant, hoping to see him walk through the door, but he's nowhere to be seen.

Finally, you see Rafe pulling up on his motorcycle through the glass of the restaurant. You breathe a sigh of relief as he walks towards you, his eyes scanning the area searching for you. He's dressed in his usual striped t-shirt and jeans, and he looks like a guardian angel sent to rescue you from this nightmare. He spots you and quickly walks over to you, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asks.

You nod quickly, desperate to get out of there. "I'm fine, just want to go." Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he reaches out to take your arm.

That's when your date decides to intervene. He grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. "Where do you think you're going?" he sneers. You feel a safe as Rafe's nearby, knowing he would protect you.

He shoves the guy off you, his arm coming between you and your date. "Touch her again and I’ll fuck up your face," he spat, getting the guy to back off. You let out a light gasp as Rafe turns to you, he offers a reassuring smile.

"Come on, let's go," he says, his voice softening as he looks at you. You nod as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out of the restaurant. You can hear your date yelling behind you, but you don't look back. You're safe now, thanks to Rafe.

You follow him to the motorcycle and Rafe hands you a helmet, you put it on and climb onto the back of the bike. Rafe gets on in front of you, and you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling the rumble of the engine beneath you.

before you guys speed off rafe utters, “how’s wren while your out here trying to catch some dick she could’ve been with me, learning who her father is.” you sigh, “she’s with her grandma and I was looking for a father not some fix.”

“why look when you have a perfectly good one here.” He says, revving the engine of his motorcycle. As you speed away from the restaurant, you look back and see your date standing alone in the parking lot, his angry face receding into the distance. the wind whipping through your hair and you cling to Rafes chest.

Your hands roam around his torso, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. You're acutely aware of the tension building between you. Rafe's hand brushes against your leg, ever so softly as he used to do when you guys dated. You glance at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road ahead. You can't help but squeeze him tighter, your grip on his chest growing firmer.

The bike turns into a driveway, and you look around, confused. This isn't your place. Rafe kills the engine, and he gets off the bike and approaches you. He takes off his helmet, then reaches out and removes yours, tossing it across the lawn with a carefree grin. he turns to face you. “this isn’t my place, what are you doing?” You asked.

"You can't touch me like that and expect me not to drive to my place," he says, you try to play it cool, but your words come out stuttering. "W-what?" Rafe takes a step closer, "Do you want me?" he asks. You try to say the right thing, but your mind goes blank.

"We shouldn't..." you trail off, knowing it's a weak excuse. Rafe inches closer, "That's not what I asked. Do you want me?" He says again. You try to deny it, to push him away, but your body betrays you. You nod, barely perceptible, and the word escapes your lips in a whisper. "Yes."

he take no time to lean in, his lips claiming yours in a sensual kiss. Your lips do not break apart as you he walks backwards towards the door of his house, fiddling with the doorknob until he manage to open it. He continues backing up, all the way to the couch in the living room. Your kisses are quick and intense as he tosses off his shirt.

He throws you on his lap and starts biting your lip in between kisses in the more pleasant way possible. His hands, roam from your neck to your back and then to your butt, which he squeezes with intensity.

You begin to grind against him, his hard on rubbing against your clit was only making it better. He tosses you onto the plush cushions beside you and slips off the couch angling his face in between your legs, he slides your lace underwear to the side and begins piping his fingers into you, in which you let out soft moans, taking in the feeling.

He uses his free hand to unzip his pants and begin stroking his dick at the same pace he's pumping his fingers into you. He beings to work his fingers faster and his tongue went to your clit, swirling at a prominent pace, matching the speed with how he is stroking his dick.

Your hands clutch his hair, gripping it with vice. His fingers begin to hit your cervix and your one pump away from comeing. Finally you feel the band in your stomach snap and body begins to shake. He gets up, pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt to come, his hands jerking the rest of his dick off as he pumps his warm come into you, painting your walls white.

Finally he comes to a stop and plops down on the couch next to you, zipping up his pants. "God, that felt so good, I’ve missed you so much." He breathes. You're still catching you breath when suddenly the door knob starts to fiddle and rafe quickly throws on his T-shirt and you slip your underwear to its appropriate place. The door opens and in walks your brother, topper. "Oh! Hey sis what are you doing here?" He asks, holding bags of Chinese food.

You stutter, "had a bad date and rafe picked me up." You innocently smile.

"Yeah we were just sitting here, chattin’" Rafe smiles. “I think we’ve came to an agreement that wren will be in my life a lot more.” he says looking to you for approval, you nod, thinking that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“im glad you two worked things out.” Topper places the Chinese food on the table and claps his hands together, "well who wants to eat!?" You look to rafe and he nods, and three of you enjoy egg rolls and rice.

this made me hungry ngl 🥲

[thewertsearch]

GT: Well ive thought about it. GT: Even went downstairs to check the great vaulty doodad. GT: And predictably the infernal contraption is nowhere to be found. TT: Well yeah, Jake. TT: That's sort of the point. TT: Thrill of the hunt and all.

Ok, I think I get what's going on here.

Jake's Dreambot is probably the last remaining source of uranium on the entire island, and the AR is turning its retrieval into a game of hide-and-seek.

I'm not sure why Jake hadn't already retrieved this particular chunk of uranium, especially since he has no use for the robot himself. Maybe he was keeping it operational for sentimental reasons?

TT: I thought you liked to manicure the image of a dude who shits his pants over a good adventure. […] GT: I mean i wouldnt put it in a way like that or come out against a solid policy of clean trousers. But yes adventure is awesome. GT: I just prefer the idea of adventures which i can actually win.

Jake's picturing a LIVING GRANDSON SMACKDOWN - and, frankly, so am I. That robot's being piloted by an absurdly advanced AI, and I'm pretty sure Jake doesn't have any combat experience.

Winning, in this case, is shorthand for 'waiting for the AR to take pity on you'.

TT: It seems there is a 76.10395784% chance you are pussying out on me. Are you pussying out on me, Jake?

Now, to be fair, that one would only work if Jake had agreed to this challenge beforehand. After all, you can't pussy out of something you never pussied into.

GT: It seems it seems it seems!!! GT: It seems there is a million percent chance that you say it seems way too much and do it just to sound more like a lame robot from a movie and also probably just to piss me off! […] TT: Have you ever stopped to think that while I may be bound to processes inside the glasses of a real and incredibly cool guy, my algorithms in cognitive totality comprise a conscious entity not far short of the experiential and emotional complexity of a human being? GT: Oh malarkey. GT: YOU ARE A TIN CAN. ROBOTS DONT HAVE FEELINGS.

Jake, it's been sixty seconds since you complained about him pretending not to have feelings.

TT: I do have feelings. And you're shitting on them. TT: It sucks. GT: Oh. GT: Um. GT: Im sorry then if thats the case.

Well, that's something, at least - but I don't think Jake really understands why the AR is offended, so I'm worried it's just going to happen again in their next argument.

How long has the Responder existed for, anyway? Jake seems familiar with his schtick, so he's probably not brand-new - but at the same time, Jake's surprised apology makes it sound like the AR has only recently started to express feelings.

Maybe the AR has existed for years, but hasn't been sentient for years. Like, it really did just start as a primitive response script, but Bro kept uploading more of his personality onto it, until it slowly began to think and feel. Fascinating idea, I have to say.

GT: It can just be difficult to drum up sympathy for a program that presents itself as an impostor so often. GT: Maybe if you werent so ready to insist you were the genuine article all the time? Or didnt make it so confusing for me… GT: I think it would be best if we henceforth treated you as a totally distinct… uh… THING from my buddy.

Hey, it's not like the AR can stop imitating Bro. Even if he wanted to have his own identity, he's currently bound to the response script of someone else's Pesterchum account. When he talks, he's forced to do it through Bro's handle.

All evidence points to the Responder being a thinking, feeling being with his own inner world - which makes it a little ethically dubious to force him to be Bro's secretary. The guy shouldn't be treated as a bargain-bin Bro, the same way that Davesprite wasn't a backup Dave. We all saw how that ended, and it sure wasn't pretty.

[aventoru]

"seems like you had a lot of fun talking to her just now," your snarky remark rings through his ears. seeing that model stalk up to him and invade his personal space was quite the sight to bear. usually, you would suck it up and tune out such views from your senses. but this time, the brewing storm in your heart takes shape in the form of thorns at the tip of your tongue instead.

"y/n, you know that's not what it looks like," sae deadpans. never in a million years would he think you would get jealous. you're always so patient and understanding of the chaos that came with his lifestyle. and now, you aren't even looking at him. why would he ever have eyes for someone else when he has you? and he's sure you know that, right?

this is your first time exerting such passive aggressive behavior, and his first time witnessing it. you both are lost.

"what do you want me to do, hm?" he grabs your hand, thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. the gesture alone is enough to waver the winds that were once thrashing against the beautiful flowers.

you pause for some time before answering (with a small pout), “i want you to hug me.”

sae blinks. this is definitely not what he was expecting. but he complies nonetheless as he embraces you in his arms.

“and kiss me,” you mumble as you wrap your arms around his neck and place your chin on his shoulder. the clouds are clearing as golden rays peek through, shining onto the field of roses below.

he leans back, arms still encased around your waist, as he kisses you sweetly. "is that all, pretty?" he asks against your lips. you pull away this time. your heart is clean again. the vast scene fades back into view, but the rose buds have yet to blossom.

“tell me you love me.”

a brief silence overtakes sae as he stares at you. he's never seen you so direct, but his nose would be growing if he said he didn't like it. he resists the lift in the corners his lips when he confesses.

“i love you, y/n.”

“hmmm,” you can't help but give in to the bouquet of reds he had just picked for you as you smile.

“say it back.”

oh, the sun really is blinding now.

“i love you too, sae.”

and all of a sudden, your cheeks are red, and your heart, warm.

a/n : sae and his reddish color i swear. i tried to do imagery but idk if it worked 😃 also the dialogue was inspired by a scene in takane no ran san (it's so cute guys i swear)

warning?? : reader gets called pretty once

masterlist

[aespabangedbang]

🏡 FREE FAMILY BITCHES🖕

Here's my perfectly competitive harem of family bitches. I have written it as a quicky smut cause the ask is really good but my hands still full with other draft. But this still don't lack any quality.

Step Mom IRENE :

With her commanding personality, strict work ethics and a face that will make monk start fapping right away; Irene become my step mom, kicking my own incompetent mom out of my father's picture. I was angry at first, but Irene is made out of different material. She soon turned me into her sex slave, exploiting my manhood ever since then. The body and holes that can bewitch papa can also bewitch the son, easy peasy!

All it took was her sitting on my face, choking me breathless pressing her hot and wet mommy pussy on my face. Once my tongue was in her, I forgot my useless mom and embraced Irene as mine. Now you will find my cock getting caressed in her holes until I cum, my face buried in her milky boobies and slurping her clean in a daily basis. I am getting the proper motherly nursing every son crave for. Irene too give herself to me smiling like the sweet step mommy she is.

Step Sister GISELLE :

The illegal child of my previously single mom Irene's Japan borne daughter Giselle is my step sis. She is a fiesty one. Despite her mom's total intimate relationship with me, she doesn't accept me as her brother. Everytime her attitude becomes too much, I force my cock in her holes and punish her like a caring oppa should be. She fights back until squirting few times, then it's all sweet oppa sound coming from that spacious mouth.

My first time I fucked her badmouthing mouth pussy till my cum painted her inside like cream cake. Irene found me humping my cock in her daughter's mouth and joined me so I can fuck her better. Mom grabbed Giselle's leg wide from behind so that I can easily gap the pink haired bitch's hole on the sofa. I finished my teaching session in her big, firm and muscled bubble butt. Giselle's face was full of ecstasy and was still badmouthing, yapping nonsense like the hentai breed she is!

Auntie JENNIE :

My real auntie form my real mom's side. A world ranked professional pornstar with over 250 video filmed so far. She was one of the reason my useless timid mom got kicked out. My papa would often fuck Jennie and show my mom how her sister is, by all means, a proper fuck. Once my mom was gone and dad busy with her new plaything Irene, Jennie shifted her focus on me.

The first time I fucked her was in a private party or my friend. She was hired for the night to fuck all of us. I was so angry seeing her there that I fucked and tortured her until sunrise. Fucking her again and again in double penetration until even this pro slut threw up. But still we didn't stop and she was carried on a stretcher directly to a hospital after that. Even now sometimes she comes to fuck me as I love to bootycall my auntie's skinny body to taste some pro meat.

Cousin NINGNING :

Another connection of my own trashy mom. Among that side of relative, this particular hoe stands up most. Ningning who was the first person to take my virginity. She is a pure tease and nympho. She will tease you to the point that the only thing you can do is undress and fuck her right there right then. She can take cocks like a overused cheap slut, smiling and gasping for air as her holes getting stretched to it's limit.

Whenever she comes to stay with us, she just do it to get fucked by me. She literally keep dirty talking and dry humping her crotch on me until I decides to plug her mouth with my meat. She wants my cock ball deep in her tight, little cunt squeezing every drop of cum from my ball. Once I start pounding her tight ass she goes banana, shaking, crying and begging me to kill her through her ass. She loves a good gangbang, so taking her to parties and enjoying her delicacy whole night with my friends is the best thing about her.

Girlfriend KARINA :

She is Aphrodite's daughter, that's what everyone call her. A perfect curvy figure, big saggy tits hanging on her petite body making them looks huge, a pussy that'll make you droll and a face that's asking to get raped every single moment. That's Karina my wild, busty and caring girlfriend. She had few steamy romantic relationship that everyone knew but broke up eventually because they couldn't satisfy her on bed.

Being a seasoned fucker, I was overqualified to satisfy my womans. One night of sex and Karina got addicted to my cock. After that she would just look for chances to get fucked anywhere, anytime. Be it in car, in shopping mall, movie theater, campus, public toilet, alleyway heck even during classes; Nothing stoping her from claiming the cock that rightfully belongs to her. Burying my face between her huge boobies, sucking her nipples and sniffing her intoxicating scent while thrusting up up up in her pussy riding my needy cock is why I am crazy about her.

MILF neighbor EUNBI :

With a pair of pumpkin sized boobs that rival my gf's melon sized udders is the busty next door neighbor Eunbi. She doesn't shy away from showing her massive milkers, always flaunting her canyon deep cleavage that who knows gave titjob to how many people. I wonder cause the first time we did, she seduced me messaging my cock between her milky canyon. Her head was blowing me and poor me ended up cumming just a min later.

Since then anytime I crave some serious boobs besides my gf I go to her house, bend her over something and fuck the hell out of her in doggystyle. From the way she moan and dirty talk I can tell she enjoys getting violeted randomly out of nowhere. An habitual bitch you can say. Of course that's a good thing for me. A new bitch to your harem is never enough!

Friends with benefits WINTER :

Karina's best friend and as result also my friend Winter is also one of my bitches. Timid in real life but nasty on bed; It makes sense she is bestie with my nympho gf Karina. Though she wasn't always mine to fuck. Winter was dumped by some rich boy who grown out her gold digger personality. A heartbroken Winter asked Karina for comfort, so my gf brought her bestie over and made me fuck her sadness out of her system as juices kept flowing out her pussy.

Karina was busy making over with bestie Winter. Her hand busy rubbing her clit while mouth locked tasting each other. Meanwhile my cock is going blur into Winter's hole, making the slim bitch shake with each and every thrust. Once I press on her bulging abdomen putting pressure on my cock, she started to convulse and cum like a broken hose. Since then I have fucked Winter a lot, before or after Karina. My gf don't mind me using her friend, she is happy as long as her friend and bf is happy too!

[sinnabarmoth]

Taking Care

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Sylus) (Xavier) (Zayne)

You hadn’t heard from Rafayel in a couple days which was…concerning. For someone that got upset when you forgot to text him at least once a day his radio silence was baffling. You texted, you called, but nothing. You even tried asking Thomas but he just shrugged and said that sometimes when Rafayel was working on a new piece he went full hermit mode. No one but the food delivery driver was going to see him.

You decided that just wouldn’t do. You knew how Rafayel was and you would not put it past him to forget to eat or sleep because he was too in the zone while working. So you went to the store to buy some ingredients for a home cooked dinner and went to his place. You let yourself in using the spare key he had given you and wandered in. No signs of life in the living room or kitchen. You put the groceries away and went to the studio.

Sure enough, there he was. He was sat in the middle of the floor hunched over a canvas. There was some old half eaten food containers shoved off to the side and various sketches scattered around the floor.

“Raf,” you said, “Still alive over there?”

He sat up straight and you could hear his bones crack as he straightened. You could see him wince as he stretched and turned to look at you. “Oh hi,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I came to check on you.” you got closer and noticed that his entire person was covered in smudges of paint both fresh and dried. His hair was greasy and lank, and there were huge bags under his eyes. There was also an undeniable funk coming off of him that made your nose wrinkle. “Good thing I did too. What on earth are you doing?”

“Inspiration called and I had to answer.” he gestured to the painting. “She’s nearly done. I’ve been adding the finishing touches.”

“Okay. Glad to know you’ve been working hard but this is too much. You smell terrible and when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep.”

“Yes, you very much do.” you held out your hand, “You can finish your painting tomorrow. You’re mine tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Not in that way. Come on.” you hauled him to his feet and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Cutie, this really isn’t necessary--”

“Raf, sweetie,” you cupped his face, “You don’t look well. I knew there was a chance you weren’t taking care of yourself but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Now come along, we’re gonna get you cleaned up, I’m making us dinner, and then you are going to bed. Got it?”

“I know better than to say no to you.” he smiled. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can start by brushing your teeth and having a shave, you’re stubbly.” you turned him to the sink. “I’m gonna draw you a bath.”

After he had finished you ordered him to strip and get in the tub. There was a cheeky offer to join him but you shook your head and told him he wasn’t getting anything like that until after he had a full night’s sleep. You did however sit at the edge of the tub and reclined his head back so you could wash his hair and massage his scalp. A deep sigh of satisfaction left him as you gently lathered the grease out of his hair. You left him to dry himself off and went to the bedroom to grab a change of clothes and threw his dirty clothes in the wash.

He looked so much better. “There’s my clean soft boyfriend again.” Without having to worry about his bad breath you pulled him down and gave him a kiss, little droplets of water from his still wet hair dripped onto your hands. “Feeling any better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now come along. I’m gonna get dinner started.”

“Want any help?”

“No. You’ll just slow me down. You can pick out a movie for us to watch though.” you pulled him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. “Stay.”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave a little salute and turned on the TV. You went into the kitchen and started cooking. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just some simple porridge that was filling and hearty.

As you were cooking you kept glancing over at Rafayel just to make sure he was still doing okay. It broke your heart seeing how little he was taking care of himself. Was this what he was like before? How many times had he done something like this? Did Thomas pull him out of his spirals or did he end up just crashing and took care of himself after he got some actual sleep? You didn’t want to know. He had you now and you weren’t going to let him keep up these kinds of bad habits. Inspiration be damned! His health mattered more to you.

Once the food was ready you handed a large serving over to him, threw a blanket over your laps, and settled down to watch the movie he had picked. “Thanks for doing all this. It wasn’t necessary though. I was fine.”

“You were most decidedly not fine, Raf.” you ran a hand through his hair. “You looked like death warmed over and smelled just as bad. It’s not just you anymore, you have to take better care of yourself, doesn’t matter about inspiration. I want you healthy. And if you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself then I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m glad to have such an attentive caretaker.” he leaned his head on your shoulder. “I might just fall asleep right here.”

“Not until after you eat.” you picked up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his mouth. “Eat.”

“You’re also a very no nonsense kind of caretaker.” Rafayel sighed but happily opened his mouth to accept the porridge.

“I don’t mess around when it comes to caring for what I love.” you kissed the top of his head. “Now keep eating, we’ll go to bed in a bit.”

After dinner was eaten and the movie finished Rafayel was really close to nodding off. He had started slipping about three quarters of the way through the film. When you asked him if he wanted to go to bed he shook his head and said he wanted to finish the movie first. You figured he was just too comfortable curled up next to you to want to move. But when the credits started rolling you dragged him off to the bedroom so he could have a sleep in a proper bed.

You snuggled in next to him, holding him close. “Good night, Raf. Sweet dreams.”

“So long as you are here, I know they will be.” he sighed, his eyes slipping closed. “I love you.”

You smiled and kissed his sleeping face. “Love you too.”

[thechaoticcheese]

TW: Numbness, Mentions of Bruises, Yelling, Waterboarding, Torture, Lack of Care for the Reader

Wrongfully Accused - Chapter 4 - The Truth

Gaz had followed his lover and Price until the interrogation room. He watched the two enter and he stopped. His mind pounded with thoughts and his heart screaming at him that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He cursed underneath his breath before he turned back and stalked his way to the barracks. His mind was milling on who would frame the person he loved so much. There was just no way you could do something like this. And god damnit he was going to prove you innocent, or do his best trying. First things first, he has to see who knows. Soap was first. He was the closest, or at least his room was and he’d assumed that Ghost was probably still in the commons room, or somewhere farther away from Soap’s location. Gaz noticed his Scottish friend starting to make his way towards the interrogation rooms and he interacted with the Brit first. Soap seemed a bit disheveled, his brows furrowing and a concerned look plastered on his face. “Aye, Gaz, ya’know wha’ happened b’tween Price an’ Y/N? He took’em away in cuffs.” Soap sounded distressed, in a friend kind of way, worried about your safety and whatever conflict the Captain had with you. “Yeah. He suspects ‘em of bein’ the spy on the base.” Gaz said with slightly gritted teeth, the thought made his fist tighten. “I don’t believe ‘im.” “You don’t believe the Cap’n?” Soap sounded a tad surprised, knowing that Gaz and Price went on a majority of missions together when it was just a two man job. Though he also knew Gaz’s unwavering loyalty to people he heavily cared about. There must’ve been a war inside Gaz, but to Gaz, the answer was clear who was on top. “Not with this. Somethin’ is up. Imma talk to Ghost next. Can you get in contact with Laswell for me?” Gaz requested from Soap, who nodded. “Aye. You think Simon knows som’tin’?” The Scotsman asked curiously. “No tellin’. If not, I have a few more people to ask.” Gaz said, crossing his arms over his chest. His mind flashing back to the burn that was on your face. He shivered as he watched the nurse start to carve out your flesh and you just didn’t move. Soap’s gentle pat on his shoulder brought Gaz back, the mohawked man offering a comforting smile. “Good luck.” “You too.” With that, the two headed in opposite directions. Gaz had a look of determination on his face as he marched through the halls towards the commons room. His mind whirled with what he’d say when he saw Ghost. A lot of it was yelling, but he knew he’d have to approach his friend carefully. The thought of Ghost doing nothing hurt more than he thinks it should’ve. Maybe because the team was so tight knit, hearing that one of his good friends did nothing to help his significant other boiled his blood. When he reached the room, it looked like Ghost had just finished cleaning up the table. He was now standing by the sink, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the mug you were drinking from. His eyes locked onto it before they glanced over at Gaz, who was beelining it towards the taller male. “Gaz.” Ghost gruffly greeted the male before putting the cup gently in the sink. “I should hit you. Ya know.” Gaz greeted back with a growl, taking in a deep breath to calm down the anger that had been bubbling inside him as Ghost glanced a humorous look at the shorter male. While Gaz was known to jump to the extremes quite quickly, the glare Gaz was returning to the masked soldier told Ghost how much he was willing to back up the claim.

Ghost leaned onto the counter, hands gripping the edge as his fingers went into the sink, along with his gaze. It was as if he was ashamed for doing nothing, refusing to look Gaz in his eyes again, or at least for now. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. “My significant other is being tortured by Price, got burned in front of you and you did nothing, and you’re ‘sorry’?” Gaz practically lectured the older male before he took another deep breath closing his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists. He so wanted to drill Ghost’s head into the sink with one blow, but he had to keep things professional, as professional it was to yell at your friend in the commons room where people could see the two of you arguing.

“Yeah.” Ghost replied, his monotonous voice not changing. This was the closest that Gaz was going to get to a proper apology and he knew it. Though the thought of Ghost doing nothing to stop Price didn’t stop itching at his brain. “Did… Did you even try?” Gaz spoke softer, a soft crack in his voice. He tried to figure out what Ghost did. The silence spoke volumes as Ghost recalled the incident from earlier this morning. Gaz had never seen the bloke wince, but he did, making the shorter soldier wonder if Ghost watched you get burned. “No… Price…” Ghost was trying to speak, trying to explain the situation, but anything past the ‘No’, Gaz didn’t register. “You watched Price burn my partner and dragged them away and you didn’t do anything!” Gaz was ready to explode, his voice indicating that he was already there at such a loud tone. “They were hurt and you couldn’t stand up to Price to get them any bloody treatment! Did his accusation of them being the spy really change your mind that much?!” He continued to spit fire at the tall man. Ghost’s hands gripped tighter against the counter and sink. Gaz swore if he gripped it any tighter it would break. The masked man sharply turned to Gaz and jabbed his finger into his chest, making him stumble back a bit. Ghost being quick wasn’t unheard of, but that didn’t make it any less shocking when it happened. “I do not have a soft spot for traitors. If they are proven innocent I will apologize. Until then they are the enemy.” Ghost growled. The two were ready to fight there in the commons. It was just up to who would swing first. “What ‘appened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” Gaz growled back, the air thickening as he leaned into the masked man’s finger. He was challenging the taller bloke. Ghost’s brown eyes flashed in some sort of angry emotion before he sighed and moved away. While Gaz knew it wasn’t because Ghost wanted to back down, he knew that Ghost knew that it would be the best move at this point. If the taller man swung, the commons room would quickly turn into a battle ground, and that would just make everything worse. “Nothin’.” He replied in a quieter tone. Hearing the reply made Gaz chuckle softly, a quip at the tip of his tongue, but he reminded himself to stay calm. Or well, to cool down to not have a fight in the commons room. He already made Ghost get close to boiling over. “Fuckin’ right. Now follow it. I have Soap contactin’ Laswell. I need to ask Price who he got ‘is information from. Though I have a feelin’ it’s one of the blokes that came in with Y/N when they first star’ed to work here. You wanna see what you can find out?” Gaz suggested, his voice determined and calm, but that was a contrast to how he felt. He’d definitely would need a round with Ghost in the ring after all of this is over. He knew he would more than likely lose, but a chance to hone skills and hopefully make some blows, would be worth it.

“Yea. I’ll make ‘em talk.” Ghost responded standing up fully now. “Good. Imma go talk to Price then. Meet ya back here later.” Gaz said with a small smile, gently punching Ghost’s arm, “You awe me a round after this blows over.” Ghost only replied with a half-amused grunt before going to talk to the other three. Gaz felt good about himself, puffing out his chest slightly in a mini victory before pivoting back to the interrogation room. He paused at your barrack’s door. Gaz’s mind filled with apologies that he could only wish to tell you at the moment. Price had to be wrong in this situation. He usually wasn’t, but everyone slips up sometimes. Then he felt bad for lashing out at Ghost, knowing his real anger wasn't at him, nor Price, but the asshole who accused you of being the spy. Whoever it was had to be the one that’s sabotaging everything. He must’ve been there for quite some time because a hand touched his shoulder. He glanced over to see Price. He seemed slightly defeated and tired, but still angry. The blood on his gloves made Gaz want to shiver, but he held his stance. “Gaz. This… This is a ‘ard ask… But Imma need you in a few hours to ‘elp with interrogation’ Y/N-” “You fuckin’ crazy, mate?” Gaz interrupted his Captain, absolutely shocked at how easily Price let the obscene request leave his mouth. Though part of him noticed how Price winced, as if he had known what Gaz’s reaction would be. How long had the Captain been stewing on the question? “They’ll crack faster seeing that there’s no hope.” Price responded coldly. Then Gaz realized something. Price had completely put on his mission mask. One of those masks that isn’t seen, but it’s like a mental block so they could do their work. This was too hard for him to mentally handle and so he hid instead of asking questions. Gaz’s blood started to boil again, but he silently started to reason with himself. This would for sure hurt your relationship, but if you don’t do it, the others would do it just as roughly as Price. At least in this way he could make sure you don’t get it too rough and keep Price from dishing out harder punishments. Though he wasn’t going to agree without bargaining. “Aight… On two conditions.” Gaz said, Prices seemed a bit surprised. “One, you get yourself a nap, you look worse for wear. Two, you tell me who informed ya.” Price’s eyes narrowed at the Sergeant, clearly seeing the bargain, but being too tired to argue he nodded and huffed, “Nikolai… and fine. No more than two hours. In the meantime fetch me a bucket. When I wake up, fill it up with ice cold water.” Gaz nodded, and as soon as Price turned around and sulked to his room to sleep, he shivered. His mind raced. Nikolai? Nik? No… Nikolai wouldn’t… Was… Was it written? There was no way Nikolai could be the spy, everyone knew the Russian too well. Something was amiss.

Gaz quickly jogged to the commons room, or well, he tried. He almost sprinted in, looking for Soap or Ghost, his mind whirling. He spotted the two quietly conversing in the corner. Soap was in front of Ghost, pressed up against him, teasing the Brit with something or other. Gaz couldn’t entirely care what it was at this moment. He quickly headed over, watching as Ghost’s eyes went from Soap’s to his, nodding slightly in a silent greeting. Soap, seeing the nod, shifted away and turned towards Gaz with a big smile, blue eyes shining happily before he caught Gaz’s furrowed brows. The two men knew something went amiss in the plan, or unexpected at least. “We have a problem.” Gaz breathed out as soon as he had both of their attention. “The intel is from Nikolai.” “No fukin’ way.” Soap whispered out. “Yea… I’m wondering if someone forged his handwriting… As illegible as it is…” Gaz put forth his thoughts, Ghost nodded in agreement. “Do we know if he was ‘ere today, or recently?”

“No…” Ghost shook his head slightly, the mask above his eyes moving, no doubt furrowing his brows. “No, he couldn’t be. ‘im an’ Laswell have been on a mission the pas’ few days.” Soap interjected, his eyes narrowing, “We go’ a right proper rat.” He growled out.

Gaz’s fists tightened again, he wanted to find who it was and put them in the dirt now, “What else did you find out?” “Well, Laswell an’ Nik will be ova’ere as soon as they can… Mission complications… Laswell an’ Nik don’t think Y/N is the spy, though they did warn me that they’d lose all communication soon so we’ll have ta wait wit’ baited breath for their return.” “Fuck. Ghost?” “Only one I could find was Tree… Drunk out of ‘is mind. Not suitable for interrogation.” The Brit gruffly responded, anger hinted at the edge of his tone. “God damnit.” Gaz cursed under his breath, despite how much he craved to yell it. “So we have someone framing Nik, who in turn is framing Y/N, and until Nik comes back we’re sitting ducks…” “Aye…” Soap confirmed softly, offering a gently squeeze of Gaz’s shoulder. “We will ge’em out, don’ worry Gaz.” “Yeah but how soon?” He grumbled. Gaz wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel his fist hit whoever got you in this situation. For now, he had about an hour and a half to figure things out.

…

Now here he is. Gripping your hair and forcing you into the water that felt cold. He had iced it earlier, but then scrapped the ice and put some hotter water in so it wouldn’t be freezing like Price wanted. He wasn’t about to confront his Captain in these circumstances. He gently pulled your head out of the water as you gasped for air, spitting water out of your mouth as your lungs demanded air. “You gon’ talk now? Or are we gonna take it up a notch?” Price asked, his face getting close to yours as his eyes narrowed. You looked at Price through somewhat closed eyes. “Fuck off.” You manage to murmur out through your sore throat. “Dunk ‘em.”

…

It’s been weeks. You’re weaker than you’ve ever felt in your life. Between being beaten and starved, your will to even consider forgiving anyone on 141 was slipping. The last thread that you held onto tightly was Gaz’s. You wrapped his thread around your hand tightly until it started to cut your fingers, your blood making the thread slippery, each drop from when he’d hurt you. Eventually. He did stop coming. Your grip on his thread was slowly loosening. It had been 21 days, 3 weeks, since you were brought here. You’ve gone numb to so many things, Price’s words, the cold cement, the aches and pains in your body. The way Gaz would sneak you small rations. It hurt you. Having to be secretly fed and begging every single time Gaz had to leave you to not go.

Three weeks of being interrogated to the point that it didn’t matter what happened after this. You were resigning. You wouldn’t sue, though the thought has crossed your mind multiple times. Worst part is, you found who it was. Price just wouldn’t believe you. By day 15, you shut up. Not a word had left your mouth for 6 days. Gaz had been gone for a day and that’s when you found out. It was Quail. Fucking Tree. He let you in on all of his little secrets as he toyed with you, adding to the bruises that decorated your skin as he tried to ‘beat the information’ out of you. You hope he’d burn in hell. You now knew, or well, used to know what was happening. He planted a letter for Price, claiming it to be Nik, but due to the secrecy had to use newspaper clippings, and it was because he and Laswell found sensitive information on their mission about said spy. They just sent Tree to collect it after they sent it to a burner address that everyone knew of, it was just his day to check it. And Price fell for the bait. You couldn’t say a damn thing about their plans though. If you did, you’d be the spy, but if you didn’t, you’d be a traitor after being proven innocent. It fits in your mind, a traitor in a group of traitors.

Soon, someone gripped by your hair, your eyes focusing on the oh so familiar boots of your beloved Captain. Your weak body was limp as Price pulled you from the corner he left you in just hours before, dragging your body across the floor. He then set you up in the chair in the center of the room. “I got a real treat for ya later. Someone’s coming to visit.” Price growled out, looking into your defeated eyes, “You best hope they don’t keep this up.”

You refused to respond. He huffed, gripping the chair and staring into you with hatred, “You’ve been a thorn in my side these past few weeks.If you weren’t so damn important, you would be dead by now” The words were supposed to phase you. They did, but only a little, mainly because being dead sounded like a nice relief. Seeing how ineffective his words were, he growled, winding his arm back to punch you square in the jaw before the door busted open, causing both you and Price to look at the open door that swung open with so much force that it bounced off of the wall it hit. “Enough, John.” Laswell’s voice loudly cracked through the room, seeing Laswell holding Tree by his hair and wrist. “We’ve got the actual traitor, release them.” Your heart fluttered, seeing Nikolai and Gaz right behind her, as if two guards guiding someone, who didn’t need to be guarded mind you, and their dangerous captive. Though, you were only glad to see Nikolai and Laswell. Your heart couldn’t decide if Gaz earned that right in the fuzziness in your chest after everything. After all, your limp hand barely held the string.

Price’s eyes widened, stepping away as his mind turned. You could tell that he was processing the information as Laswell pushed Tree inside the room, Gaz and Nikolai both following immediately. Nik went straight for Price, consoling the man and quickly ushering out of the room. His voice was too soft for you to pick up any semblance of words, that, and you were barely paying attention. You knew Price’s world must’ve been rocked considering what Tree had already told you. You could barely register Gaz taking off your cuffs and tightening around the traitorous male’s wrist, not caring if he complained that it was too tight.

Good. You sickly thought as you heard the clicking of the cuffs.

Gaz brought you up off of the chair, wrapping your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to let you walk, but your body refused. Your mind was still numb to everything, trying to figure out if it could even walk. When you crumbled towards the floor, Gaz scooped you up in his arms. Gaz’s soft and sweet voice softly murmuring apologies. How he tried to get there sooner, but they were waiting on Nikolai and Laswell, but they had to be rescued after weeks of no contact. Price was stuck here and just took his anger out on you since he assumed you were a part of it. You didn’t respond. Part of you didn’t believe him.

The look of dread was sinking into Gaz as he made glances down to your body. While Price didn’t break anything, he dislocated so many things, only relocating them when he got pissed enough. It felt like some might’ve been broken then, but you weren’t sure. Gaz had sped up his walk as you barely recognize Soap’s worried blue eyes as Gaz bulldozed past the Scot.

The amount of care you felt for the world around you was non-existence and it worried Gaz. Every fiber of his being convinced that he was way too late, but he’d try. He’d try so damn hard to get his little angel back.

You heard words exchanged between a different medic than the one before and Gaz. Though as soon as your body felt the softer feeling of the cot, you passed out. Welcoming any softer feeling of an object compared to the cold feeling of the concrete you’d spent the previous nights on. When you woke up, you were covered in bandaids, wrappings, and a few splints on your fingers. You glanced down to see an IV in your arm, and, moving past your better judgement, you ripped it out with nothing more than a soft grunt. It alerted the new medic who swiftly came over, mumbling to themself as you stood up on shaky legs. “Hey! Hey! Sit back down. You need to rest.” He instructed, gently trying to keep you on the bed, but you refused. You still had strength in your body, more than you realized. Perhaps it was just your mental will power that was dead. “No…” Your raspy voice spoke, startling the medic. “I want to return to my room.” He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. “If you let me and my colleagues check in on you every hour on the hour… F-Fine.” You knew this wasn’t allowed, but the lacking care in your body showed, cause the medic seemed absolutely scared shitless by your gaze. You must’ve given him one hell of a glare.

He helped you to your room, always there for your stumbles as you partly wondered where the hell Gaz was. You would’ve sworn he’d be by your side after all of this, but he wasn’t there when you woke. The question soon answered itself as the medic flicked on the light to your room. Your bed was covered with new bedding, stuffed animals, flowers, pillows, anything and everything a lover could do to comfy up the military beds. Though no Gaz. Was he hoping to do a big reveal once you were better? It didn’t matter now. The surprise was ruined and you couldn’t care how nice it looked. Not like you’d choose to remember.

The scene in front of you didn’t affect the deadness in your heart. You just wanted to sleep somewhere more familiar than the medical bay. You stumbled over with the medic’s help. He was about to help you to the side of the bed before you took your arm and wiped off as much as you could, dumping a good chunk of it onto the floor. The only thing that remained was a brown stuffed teddy bear and the new pillows. The teddy bear was holding a heart that you only noticed after grabbing it to huck it onto the ground. You assumed that what it said on the heart was something cheap, before you paused. You noticed how the message was hand-sewn into a heart, that was a bit-lopsided, but also hand made. ‘To my Angel. You will forever be in my heart. No matter where we are.’ It read. Was it still sappy? Sewn in a bit sloppily? Absolutely, but you settled into bed with it. The stuffed bear held tightly against your chest as the medic carefully tucked you in.

“See you in an hour.” He said softly, carefully nudging the gifts on the ground towards the wall to be picked up later, before turning off the light to the room and leaving you alone. The darkness made your mind scream in fear, but the tiredness in your body gagged it as you finally closed your eyes to sleep against the mattress that felt so soft. Your arms had a death grip on the teddy bear. Its soft fur brushed against the bandages on your arms and chest. You wish you could feel how soft its fur was, but your body was being held together by the medical fabric. Soon, you were able to drift off to sleep with a soft warmness towards Gaz once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed glances at word count 4,027 words of this! I was debating on putting it in two parts, but.... Nah. You guys just get one BIG chapter. Y'all get two more chapters of angst and fluff until it ends. Not sure when it'll be posted cause my mind be everywhere lol. Inspire by this post.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

[naughtyneganjdm]

Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 6

Summary: Tommy visits with Y/N and asks her not to give up on Joel just yet. Attempting to get Joel's attention, Y/N does something to make a fool of herself, but it does indeed get Joel's attention.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/159622975

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Making Out, Severely Touch Starved Joel, Naked Cuddling (kinda), some light breast play, etc.

Notes: I promise to update this faster now. Thank you to everyone that actually took the time to comment on the last chapter. It made me feel much better about things. I can't tell you how much even a small comment helps! If you'd like to read previous chapters, check them out here.

Last night? It was nothing like the night before. Falling asleep was hard. All Y/N could think about was Joel. What was sad was that this was a man that she had only known for a few days. Yet? The things he said to her and the way he acted? It affected her more than she expected it to. There was a reason Joel hid behind this mean and cold exterior and she realized that. But it also didn’t stop her from being upset by the things that he said to her.

Her day spent with Joel was incredible. It was different than what she was used to and it was something she very much enjoyed. When she was cuddled up in bed with Joel, he felt like someone she had known for a lifetime. No one had ever made her relax and feel as safe with them as Joel had that night. Unfortunately that feeling was short lived because of the things he had said to her before he left her last night. 

Most of the night was sleepless for her with her lying awake thinking about everything Joel said about her. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. She was looking for something to prove that life was still worth living. For so long she had been missing that one thing to keep fighting for. Maybe she was clinging onto Joel too quickly and it would be hard for someone like him to handle.

A lot of her sleep was broken and by the time she officially woke up early in the morning, she decided to pack her things. It wasn’t like she had much to begin with, so that didn’t make it hard for her to do. Tommy had requested her to give him twenty-four hours’ notice when she was leaving so she went downstairs to registration. When she got there it was someone she had yet to meet, so she just left Tommy a note about how she would be leaving tomorrow. She hadn’t gotten a plane ticket yet, but she was sure that she could get something out of town. Even if it took a few flights to get back home.

There was a lot of pent-up energy that she had lingering inside of her, so she threw something relaxed on and went downstairs to the gym area of the inn. Thankfully, no one was down there. It wasn’t the biggest gym she had ever seen in a hotel. In fact, it was very small, but it also had a room connected to it that was around the same size with two mini inground hot tubs in it. It was cozy and quaint for her. For someone else it may have not been enough. Deep down she wondered if many of the guests really ever came down here. It was way too clean in her opinion and the whole time she was down there, no one ever joined her.

With how unbusy this place was, she was getting the hint that there weren’t a lot of guests that were staying there right now. And if they were? It was only to have a place to sleep so they could spend the rest of the day with their family. She was probably the one person that spent this much time in the inn. Then again, that’s what most people did on trips. Took an adventure around the places they were vacationing. Most of them weren’t like her, spending most of their time trapped up inside. 

Although, this place still seemed to get its money from the restaurant and bar that it had. It was smart adding those to the inn. It made sure that they always had a steady income, even on the days where it wasn’t busy at the inn.

God, that’s how boring she was. With the extra time she had while working out, she was thinking about how Tommy and Joel could afford to keep this place running. And truthfully, the rest of her day wasn’t going to be any more interesting. The plans for today were to finish her workout, take a shower, sit down hopefully to find a plane ticket home, get something to eat and then go to bed early. So that way she would be prepared for the full day of traveling she had ahead of her.

Right now she was finishing up her run on one of the two treadmills that they had in the small gym at the inn. To stay focused, she put in her noise cancelling earphones and worked to get out all of that negative energy that she had building up inside of her throughout the night. This was better than letting her intrusive thoughts eat away at her all day with the things that Joel had said to her lingering inside of her mind.

A small amount of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It wasn’t anything too big, but she could see it in the mirror paneled wall that was beside her. Taking a quick look over her shoulder she realized that someone was sitting on the lifting bench that was at the center of the room and it startled her, “Fucking hell!”

Immediately, the person that was sitting there jumped and toppled backwards onto the floor hitting it hard. Their legs were still hanging over the side of the lifting bench and it had her reaching out to quickly hit the stop button on the treadmill. Hopping down from it, she pulled her earphones out hearing the pained sound flooding the air. Shoving her earphones into her pocket, she moved over toward the center of the room to see that it was Tommy staring up at her from the ground. Helping him to unhook his legs from the bench, she did her best to allow him time to unhurriedly pull himself up from the floor.

“Tommy? What the hell were you doing?” she wrapped her arm around him, helping him to get to his feet. A grunt escaped him as she motioned him to take a seat on the bench again. There was a vibrant red color that flooded into his face expressing how embarrassed he was over the whole situation. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No, it was quite the opposite actually. I actually came down here and started talking to you. Didn’t understand why you weren’t responding. Then I saw them earphones you were wearing and realized you couldn’t hear a word of it,” Tommy informed her, throwing his hand up in the direction that she had been running on the treadmill. “Since I didn’t want to scare you, I sat down here and waited until you were done. Clearly that was a mistake because not only did I scare you, but you also startled the hell out of me because I was looking at my phone when you yelled.”

An amused chuckle escaped her drawing out even more color from Tommy. Covering her mouth with her hand, her intentions were not to embarrass him, but she couldn’t help but laugh with the situation. Something in Tommy’s eyes changed when he realized he no longer had his phone. Spotting it on the floor, Tommy grunted and stretched out his body in attempts to grab a hold of it. Really he should have just gotten up from the bench since it was just a little too far out of his reach, but he was being stubborn dragging it toward him with just his fingertips. Once he got a hold of it, he pulled himself back up into the seated position he was in before.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tommy explained, shoving his phone into the pocket of the jacket that he was wearing. Searching for something else in another one of his pockets, Tommy pulled something out to reveal the note that she had left for him earlier. Waving it about had her looking away from him. “What’s this Y/N?”

“The twenty-four-hour notice that you asked for,” she thought it was fairly obvious what the note was and the look that Tommy gave her showed her that he realized that. “When I came here you asked me to tell you when I was leaving and I’m telling you. I’m going to hopefully get a plane home tomorrow.”

“You can’t do that,” Tommy exclaimed, shaking his head repeatedly. Even though she didn’t mean to, a scoff fell from her throat. Folding her arms out in front of her chest, she waited for Tommy’s explanation. “I’m not trying to tell you what you can and cannot do. There is just a storm that is starting tonight and it’s supposed to last for three days. If you don’t believe me, you can look on your phone with your weather app. I promise you no plane is gonna wanna be flying out of Jackson with how the weather is gonna be.”

Hearing that had the color draining from her face. Doing as he suggested, she pulled her phone out from her pocket and confirmed exactly what he was telling her. Frustration flooded her veins. Well, now she was stuck here and her original plans would not work. By how upset she was about the information, Tommy could sense that she was completely determined to leave tomorrow which worried him.

“While we’re also on the topic of reasons why you shouldn’t leave,” Tommy sounded nervous in the way he started to speak up again. Standing slowly from the bench, he winced when there was a tug in his back. Something ached from the fall he took earlier. Because she was a doctor, he could see the look on her face immediately changing when he started to rub at his lower back. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need me to look at you?” she offered since it was technically her fault that he fell and that kind of thing was also her job.

“I’m already ashamed enough as it is,” Tommy half smiled, shaking his head at the offer. Falling was enough to make him feel like an idiot, but if he hurt himself from falling? That would only make it worse. “I’ll be fine. I just need to stretch it out.”

Brushing his fingers through his long hair, Tommy focused on looking normal not wanting to feel foolish about hurting himself like he did, “Tomorrow, with the snow, Joel and I are going with Maria’s family to one of the local resorts. Some friends are coming too. We were looking to spend the day there. People typically have fun going there and I wanted to ask you if you’d come with us. You’d get to see one of the biggest draws of Jackson.”

“That’s not going to work,” she rejected his offer, her hands dropping down at her sides. While it was nice that he was trying to include her in something again, there was no way that it would actually happen. “Because I’m afraid of heights and I don’t like skiing.”

“I remember you saying that,” Tommy seemed persistent with whatever he was about to continue on with. “But this resort? It’s huge. And it’s not just skiing. Maria is still coming with us because there are other things to do. With her being pregnant, you know I wouldn’t let her ski. That would just be stupid. Skiing and snowboarding are only some of the things that you can do. They have this winter coaster that is there which is really cool. Gondola rides. Tubing. Places to eat and just hang out. Maria and I have talked it out. We want you there with us.” 

“Tommy, you know how much I like the both of you,” she started, guilt eating away at her with the idea that she was sticking to her decision with it being no, “but Joel? He wants nothing to do with me. So, while I appreciate the offer, I’m going to have to turn you down. Because that makes this whole thing kind of impossible.”

“I see,” Tommy frowned, folding his arms out in front of his chest. Instead of just accepting her answer, he took a moment to think things out and sighed loudly. “I was kinda hoping that he spent the night with you here.”

“You haven’t talked to him?” she was bewildered to hear that, her chest aching when she thought about the night before. With a single shake of his head Tommy answered the question for her. Tommy’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he lowered his head. Emotions were still flooding over from last night into this morning. And she didn’t blame Tommy for being upset. “I take it he’s not here?”

“He had today off,” Tommy replied back, his body language suddenly becoming very uncomfortable. “He always takes this day off every week. But I assumed that the two of you were still together after everything last night.”

“No, your brother and I didn’t spend much longer together after you last had seen us,” she enlightened Tommy to the fact that they split ways not long after leaving the bar. “He walked me to the inn and let me know that I was just a stranger that meant nothing to him. A stranger he really didn’t like much to begin with.”

“So that’s why you left me this,” Tommy suddenly understood why she had decided to go home and leave the note for him. Pushing the note back into his pocket he could see that she was uncomfortable talking about Joel. “You can’t take that to heart. He didn’t mean it. I’ve seen you with my brother and you bring out something I haven’t seen in him in a very long time.”

“Severe anger?” she let out a hesitant laugh, her body tensing up when she considered all the times Joel had slung personal attacks at her since she had gotten here. Tommy lowered back down onto the bench and stared up at her with his big brown eyes. “Tommy, your brother doesn’t like me. I was just the first person to show interest in him and he confused being sex deprived with something more.”

“Now if Joel said that, that’s just him being an asshole to try to push you away,” Tommy insisted with a loud sigh, burying his head into his hand disappointed that his brother would even say something like that. “My brother does everything he can to push people away. He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy and when someone starts to make him feel good, he always sabotages himself. It’s just…it’s who he is.”

“He said a lot of awful things last night before leaving me here,” she claimed, letting Tommy in on what happened. “I realize you think something positive was going on between us, but it was a fluke. Just like Joel said. Your brother said he wasn’t emotionally capable of being with me. Or doing…whatever we were doing.”

“Y’know what? How about the two of us go upstairs? We can grab some cider and donuts for us. Maybe we can go up to your room and talk for a while?” Tommy offered, his jaw flexing realizing that it was a lot to ask from someone who didn’t even know him for that long.

“If you and your family keep giving me free things you are going to go out of business,” she considered after all the gifts that his family had been giving her over the last few days. “While I appreciate it, I’m the last person that needs free things.”

“I doubt that, but…” Tommy stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants when he did it. “We actually give people free cider and donuts every morning during the winter. So, it’s not really me giving you anything that we wouldn’t normally give our guests.”

“Oh,” her face flushed over with color, embarrassment flooding into her features. “Then yeah. We can do that.”

Waving him forward, she followed Tommy up the stairs where they grabbed themselves something and headed up toward her room. When they got in, she motioned him to take a seat on the couch and she sat down at the opposite end. Both of them were quiet and it seemed like they were both waiting for the other one to talk.

“Something happened after you told Joel that you and Maria were having a baby,” she blurt out feeling embarrassed with the way that Tommy gazed over at her. “Joel told me that it was none of my business, but I know that the way he reacted was not normal. I wanted to apologize for him, but Joel was right. I have only been here for a few days and I can’t step into a family situation that I know nothing about.”

“I know why my brother reacted the way he did,” Tommy paused to consider and think what he was going to tell her. “I just was hoping that he would have a different reaction to it than he actually did. Sadly, the way he responded was the way that I thought he would. That’s why I didn’t want to tell anyone about the baby until after the holidays. I knew that he wouldn’t respond in a positive way.”

“That’s not normal Tommy,” she decided after taking some time to think about what Tommy said. Even though she liked Joel, that was an asshole way to respond to the fact that your brother was going to have a baby with the woman that he loved. “People don’t usually act like that.”

“My family isn’t…normal,” Tommy frowned, setting the cup of cider that he had down on one of the coasters that was set up on the coffee table. Shoving the rest of the donut that he had into his mouth, it was then that he realized the bite was probably too big. With big eyes, Y/N smirked as he chewed very uncomfortably showing that he was stressed. With a loud swallow, Tommy grunted and she took a tiny sip of her cider. “Trust me, if you knew things…you would understand.”

“Are these things I’m not allowed to know?” she was curious what these things were. It wasn’t the first time she heard about negative things toward Joel.

“I can’t tell you because they aren’t my life experiences to share. I was part of them, but if I told you and Joel found out,” Tommy paused, sucking in a sharp breath of air, shaking his head at the idea of Joel being angry with him. “He wouldn’t want me to tell anyone. When we moved here, Joel wanted to leave his past behind. But the problem is? Joel’s past defines who he is completely. Joel never truly left his past behind.”

What could she say to that? There were no hints as to what was part of Joel’s past or why Joel was acting the way he was. It was just something that Tommy expected from him.

“My brother is a good man. I know that it may not seem like that, but Joel is and has always been a very good man. He was always putting others before himself. Especially when it came to me. Joel has been taking care of me my whole life,” Tommy expressed to her, placing his hand in over the center of his chest to show sincerity in what he was saying. “Joel had to take care of me, even when we were kids. Joel had to grow up fast and I took a very long time to grow up. And that was hard on Joel. Our parents passed away when we were young and Joel had to raise me. I made a lot of mistakes growing up and he was there to deal with what came afterwards.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” she had a hard time believing that because Tommy seemed like such a straight laced overall good guy.

“I had a hard time finding my place when I was young,” Tommy admitted, thinking back on his younger years. “I wanted to save the world. I just didn’t realize the toll that it would take on me and the ones I loved. I am the way that I am now because I found love again. But Joel? Joel has suffered through so much pain. More pain than a man should have to endure. And I’m surprised he survived because I don’t know if I would have.”

Hearing that broke her heart, but she didn’t know how she could possibly help Joel or even begin to understand if Tommy wouldn’t tell her, “Joel was happy for a while. Even though he went through a lot there was one thing in his life that balanced him. Made him realize life was special and worth living. And then something terrible happened. And since then? My brother has been a broken man. It wasn’t until you came around that I saw any sense of happiness in my brother.”

A silence followed with the lump in her throat growing bigger. Guilt was growing inside of her and her throat felt dry the further she thought about what Tommy was saying.

“That’s why I’m here begging you to give Joel a chance,” Tommy pled with her, holding his hands together in a way that made him feel pathetic with his face growing hot. “I know it’s been only a few days, but I think you feel it too. I see the way the two of you look at one another. Something happened between the two of you that just clicked. And while my brother is putting up a wall to protect himself and everyone else, he’s hurting himself in return. You? You I think are the only person capable of letting my brother be happy again.”

“Tommy, I’m just a stranger,” she recalled what Joel had said, her body tense when she took in all the information that Tommy was giving her.

“Are you though?” Tommy retorted, his head tipping from side to side with his dark eyes narrowing. “I know that it’s only been a few days, but the things we’ve talked about? I think you’re more comfortable with my family than you are pretty much anyone else. Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” she waved her hand about knowing that statement to be true. A big part of her life she kept secret for a reason, but she was very open with the Miller family about her past. “But I can’t help Joel if he doesn’t want to be around me. Yes, I like your brother…”

“Obviously,” Tommy added with a bounce of his eyebrows that brought some color into her face. There were some positions that Tommy had caught her in that she wasn’t very proud of. “Honey, anyone with eyes can see that when the two of you are together, there are sparks.”

“I just don’t know how to be around your brother if he keeps pushing me away and wants to be mean,” she defended her thoughts with Tommy exhaling loudly. “Yesterday was amazing. I don’t remember the last time I was that comfortable with someone Tommy. And then he just turned hateful all over again. With the snap of his fingers, the sweet guy that was eager to take care of me was shitting all over me. Metaphorically speaking.”

“I know that and I’m sorry he’s like that,” Tommy apologized, but she didn’t think that was fair for him to have to do for Joel so she lifted her hands to stop him from going any further.

“Tommy, you’re his brother and when you told him that you were going to be a father—his reaction? It was very poor,” she recognized that the negative behavior went way beyond the things that were going on with her. “If that’s the way he responds to being an uncle…?”

“Listen, I wish I could tell you, but I promise you it makes sense even if you don’t think it would,” Tommy reasoned with her, wincing at the idea of what Joel had done the night before. “My brother will come around eventually. It’s just going to take time. I was unfortunately very drunk last night so I was emotional and didn’t understand his response. I was also hopeful with you around that maybe he wouldn’t be like that.”

“How would you respond to someone who was saying what you are to me?” she pushed Tommy for answers since she didn’t know what Tommy wanted her to say.

“I would think they were nuts,” Tommy knew that this was a lot, but he shrugged his shoulders and sighed loudly. “But I think you’re the one thing that can save my brother from himself. And I know he likes you. I see it in the way that he looks at you. I haven’t seen my brother look that way in a very long time. It was nice to see that part of him again.”

“How can I save someone when I’m barely holding on myself?” she lowered her head, her throat tensing up with her admitting to Tommy that she may have not had the strength to do what he wanted of her. “Joel told me he wasn’t emotionally capable of being the person to help me get to be where I needed to be. You know I’m not right Tommy.”

“You and my brother are so much alike,” Tommy reached out to place his hands in over hers in a friendly manner to show her support. “I’m just asking you to try for just a while longer with him. I think there is something there between the two of you. And I think he can help you just as much as you could help him.”

Biting back on her lip, she felt emotional but she didn’t know why. Just giving Tommy a small nod, she pat her hand in over his and shrugged, “So do you agree to staying here for a little while longer? You’ll join us tomorrow?”

“Tommy, I don’t think I would have a choice either way with leaving,” she pointed to her phone reminding him that there was a snowstorm coming that was dangerous as it was. “I hate flying to begin with and the last thing I want to do is fly in a snowstorm like the one that is coming to this town. So I’m here whether I want to be or not.”

“While that’s true…” Tommy started, sucking in a sharp breath of air, “Something tells me that my brother is one of the things that is making you want to stay.”

Yes and no. Because his brother was the main reason she wanted to leave this morning too.

“I’ll go work on something downstairs for a few. How about you get dressed in something warm and meet me in about thirty minutes at the front. I want to show you something,” Tommy instructed her with a curious expression flooding out over her features. “Trust me.”

She didn’t know why, but she listened to Tommy. Allowing him to leave her room, she cleaned up enough and wore something warm. When he asked her to meet him, she was there and he was already waiting for her.

“So,” she noticed that they were quiet while walking wherever Tommy was taking her. “Were you hoping you would have a daughter or a son?”

“I reckon I’d be happy with either,” Tommy confessed with a weak smile, his head tipping to the side slightly so he could stare out at her when they walked. “I never thought I’d be a dad so it’s all very exciting for me. But also horrifying at the same time.”

“I think you two are going to make great parents,” she decided in an assuring tone hoping to stress to Tommy that everything would be okay. “I have only known you a few days and I can tell with how you treat me you’re going to be great parents.”

“You’re a bit different than a screaming baby,” Tommy teased her with a wrinkle of his nose getting her to smile.

“Well, that depends on the day,” she joked back, nudging him playfully with her arm liking that the banter between them was still innocent and sincere.

“If things don’t work out,” Tommy was quiet in the way he began speaking to her again, his face twisting with contemplation if he should say what he was about to. “If you and my brother have issues, Maria and I really like you. We’d like to keep in contact with you if you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t I be biased then when I left my review of the place? Being friends with the owners and all,” she smirked, amused that really the only people she managed to speak to and get close to were the owners of the inn she was staying at. The laugh Tommy let out seemed uncomfortable and amused at the same time. “I’m just screwing with you. Of course. Truthfully? I like the two of you more than most people I know.”

“That’s good,” Tommy noted with a half-smile, “because with my brother I almost assumed you would leave a shitty review of the place.”

“You level things out,” she promised, reaching out to pat at the center of his shoulders provoking Tommy to let out a deep rumble of laughter. “Although, I do have to wonder where you are taking me because I’m fucking freezing with this wind.”

“Just a few more steps,” Tommy motioned ahead of them, grabbing her to stop her when they stepped in front of a storefront. “Look into that window right there.”

“’Where are we?” she went to look up at what the store was, but Tommy instead just pushed her carefully forward toward the window. Doing as she was instructed, she leaned in trying to gaze through the window that was reflecting too much light from the outside with how bright it was. When her eyes adjusted she could see that Joel was sitting with a group of kids. They all had acoustic guitars and it was evident that Joel was attempting to teach them how to play. “You wanted me to see this?”

“My brother is a good man,” Tommy insisted, moving in beside her to watch Joel set his guitar down to head over toward one of the children that were in his class to help adjust their fingers to play. “Little rough around the edges, but his heart is good. It’s just hard for him to believe that he deserves any sort of happiness in his life. The man would give you the shirt off his back even if it was the last thing that he had. He’s just severely protective of those he loves but also good at self-sabotaging himself because he’s not used to having something good in his life.”

“You’re really trying to hook me and your brother up,” she noticed how hard Tommy was pushing her to see the good in Joel. “You realize that, right?”

“Actually, I was furious with my brother yesterday morning when he walked out of your room because I thought he made a mistake that was fueled by alcohol,” Tommy thought back to when he found Joel leaving Y/N’s suite. “Now I know there is something more. You bring out something in him and as his little brother? I just want to see him happy.”

Not wanting to embarrass or upset Joel, they didn’t stay too long. Both her and Tommy had lunch together where instead of focusing on Joel, they just got to know each other better as friends. And after they did? She went back to the inn and got cleaned up. A lot of what they talked about weighed heavy on her. The fact that all she could do was think about Joel Miller told her that there was something inside of her that longed for him. She hadn’t felt this way about someone in a very long time.

There was something that struck realization into her while she lounged around her room all day. The conversation she had with Joel the night before when they were alone together in that hallway. They made plans for something that was very unlikely to happen tonight. Something dirty. But considering this town was small and Joel had been at The Tipsy Bison every day she had been there so far? She might have been lucky and he’d be there again.

Getting ready, she knew that this was ridiculous, but she pulled out the only dress she brought with her which was a tight-fitting black dress that was something in the past she would have worn to a club to get attention. It was freezing outside, so this was definitely a decision that might have been a bad one. But she didn’t care. Putting on her heavy coat that she had bought in town here over the dress felt strange. It wasn’t a long walk, but damn did she regret wearing this as soon as she stepped outside. Admittedly? Usually she wouldn’t rush, but since it was already snowing, the walk to The Tipsy Bison was rather quick, kickstarting her heart to race. By the time she reached the bar, once she entered she almost regretted it. This was a stupid idea.

People were staring at her when she entered. And she didn’t blame them. She had dressed up nice, done her make up and was out to impress if she had spotted Joel Miller. There was a sense of disappointment that flooded her veins when she looked to the table that Joel had mentioned to her the night before. It was empty. Maybe she should have just left.

That was when she took another look at the bar and felt a rush flood through her veins realizing that Joel was slouched over at the end of the bar holding onto a glass that she assumed had whiskey in it. Clearing her throat, she confidently pulled the material from her jacket down her body. Doing so immediately drew the attention of the bartender that was at the time pouring Joel’s drink. Folding her coat over her arm, she stood there for a moment longer. Noticing that the bartender must have been gawking, Joel turned on his seat with his brown eyes growing big when he saw her standing there in the dress. Making sure to lock eyes with Joel, she gave him an emotionless expression before heading over toward the booth that he had mentioned.

Taking a seat, she waited. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Joel’s face was scrunching up in confusion with what she was doing. But pretty quickly the bartender that had ignored her the previous days was stumbling through the bar eager to come over to get a drink order from her. Not wanting to make an ass of herself, she ordered a juice because the last thing she wanted to do was get drunk and end up home with the wrong person.

Pulling out her phone, she acted like she was checking something, but out of her peripherals was watching Joel’s reaction toward her. What was disappointing is that he didn’t get up. He just turned around back toward the bar, but every so often he would look over his shoulder at her to see what she was doing.

Mostly she was getting the stares from men that she didn’t want to get the attention of. Especially the one that Joel had terrified the night before. Considering no one was coming up to her, Joel was likely right. That guy was a big mouth and let everyone know what Joel said so people were too afraid to go over to her.

When she got her drink, she noticed that Joel was staring at her again over his shoulder and she teasingly stroked her fingers at the glass that was before her. Eventually Joel smirked, shook his head and turned away from her again.

“Wow,” she muttered under her breath starting to feel embarrassed at just how much she was failing in this situation. With how desperately Joel spoke to her yesterday about the scenario they set up, she thought doing what he had told her last night would have drawn him to her. The dress she was wearing was tight, clinging to her every curve. She was wearing something with a skirt just like he had asked her to. Seeing him blow her off like that just made her know how stupid this really was. Huffing out, she slid out from the booth and started to put her jacket on again.

Grabbing her juice, she headed over toward the bar hearing a crashing sound with how quickly the bartender came over toward her as she stepped in beside Joel who tensed up with her near. It was interesting how quickly this bartender went from ignoring her the first day to falling over himself to get to her.

“Something wrong with your drink?” the bartender wondered with her slamming the glass down in front of Joel who stiffened beside her, his back straightening when he tipped his head just enough to look back at her. His eyebrows bounced up and they locked eyes. “Can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m leaving, but he can have this,” she declared, sliding the drink in closer to Joel whose dark eyes narrowed when she leaned in closer to him. More than anything she wanted to lash out at him, but she knew that she couldn’t and shouldn’t in front of these people. “Enjoy the drink.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel spoke quietly, his expression barely changing only infuriating her more. She felt the eyes of the people around them watching and she had to have looked ridiculous. Frowning, she shook her head and turned on her heel heading to leave.

“This was so dumb,” she confessed once she reached the outside, cussing out when she almost slid because of the snow that had started to fall. Noticing that town square was close to empty, instead of heading directly back to the inn she went across the street to see the tree. Whenever things were hard for her in New York City she would go to the Rockefeller tree and she would find some kind of inspiration there. So she was hoping the tree here would have the same kind of effect for her too. Tommy begged her to stay for Joel, but with the way Joel responded to her, she felt like that was a stupid decision. Once she reached the tree, the heavy amounts of snow caught her foot causing her to slip and fall back into the snow. Thankfully there was enough snow to catch her fall causing her to let out a frustrated laugh. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Staring up toward the sky, she didn’t have the will power to get up right now. So she just stayed there with her heart pounding inside of her chest. It was freezing and she’d likely make herself sick, but she was fed up with everything right now. There was a burning at her cheeks from the wind and a prickling sensation in her legs from being bare and laying in the snow. Yeah, she certainly succeeded in making herself out to be an idiot tonight.

The sound of the snow crunching under someone’s footsteps was heard, but she didn’t bother to look. A moment later, Joel’s curious brown eyes were staring down at her. His right eyebrow arched, the crease at the bridge of his nose growing deeper.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Joel asked, his southern drawl raspier than normal when he tipped his head slightly. Having Joel standing over her like that did feel ridiculous, but she couldn’t find herself thinking of an answer fast enough.

“I’m making snow angels. Isn’t that obvious?” she waved her arms about causing Joel to smirk at her antics. With a slow nod, Joel looked around the area before carefully lowering down in beside her in the snow. Astonishment flooded her body with her turning her head to the side to see that Joel was looking up into the sky like she had been. “What are you doing?”

“Well if people see you like that, they are going to think you’re crazy,” Joel alerted her, turning his head slightly to lock eyes with her. “So this way? They’ll think we’re crazy together.”

Hearing that had her heart skipping a beat. Returning her stare back to the sky above them, she could tell that Joel was getting more comfortable beside her in the snow. Resting his hands in over her abdomen while he laid there, Joel kept quiet. 

“You fell, didn’t you?” Joel asked simply causing her to let out a tremoring exhale.

“Yes. Yes I did,” she was honest, hearing the tiny chuckle from Joel. If she wasn’t freezing her ass off right now, she might have found this funny too.

Silence returned and it started to feel uncomfortable so she decided to break it, “I saw you earlier.”

“And I saw you earlier,” Joel countered, confusing her in that moment because she was fairly certain that he hadn’t seen her and Tommy watching him teach those children. “The performance was a bit dramatic if you ask me.”

“Thank you, but I wasn’t talking about that,” she scoffed when she understood that he was talking about what just happened in the bar with them together moments earlier. “I was actually talking about earlier today. You teaching those children how to play the guitar. It was cute.”

“Hmmm…” Joel hummed, his jaw flexing with her confession to him. His eyelashes fluttered when he turned his head to look out at her again. Originally, she thought he might have been embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I told you sometimes I could be really cute.”

“And sometimes you can be a huge asshole,” she was short with him having him nod his head as if he agreed with her. Instead of fighting back with her, he just took her comment with a grain of salt. “You should teach me how to play before I leave.”

“This world?” Joel spouted off eliciting her to push up onto her hands to stare out at him. Mirroring her, Joel sat up in the snow and held his hand out to direct her attention to what she was wearing. “Because if you lay in the snow much longer like that I can’t do much of anything.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. By now, she couldn’t feel much of anything with her legs and she knew that was a bad thing. Tommy told her that there was going to be a storm tonight. She should have realized wearing this dress would be a bad idea. Even if it wasn’t much of a walk from the inn to the bar that the Miller family often attended.

“My legs are numb,” she admitted with a frown eliciting a low rumble of a groan from Joel. Watching him digging into the inside of his jacket, she knew that he was right. She needed to get out of this snow. Digging something out of his jacket, Joel motioned her forward and she gave him an odd expression. “What?”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Joel instructed, reaching out to pull his winter hat down in over her head. After that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick pair of work gloves. A rush of embarrassment flooded through her with Joel gesturing her to hold her hands up. Doing as she was told, Joel pulled the gloves down over her hands making sure that they would stay. Right now she felt like a child that was being taken care of. Tugging her jacket together better, Joel grunted and repositioned himself. “Hold tight.”

“To what?” she gasped out with Joel hooking his arms under her firmly lifting her up from the snow. Not wanting to fall, she was quick to wrap her arms around the back of Joel’s neck with him readjusting her in his arms when he got to his feet. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Your legs are numb,” Joel reminded her nodding over toward her legs that sincerely did ache. Resting her head in against Joel’s shoulder, she was amazed with how strong he genuinely was. By the time that he was carrying her out of town square, Joel was right. People were looking at them like they were insane.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked noticing that they were headed in the opposite direction of the inn. Grunting, Joel adjusted her in his arms in a way that seemed to be more comfortable for him. “Joel?!”

“You need to warm up properly. And considering you pulled this stunt in an attempt to impress me, I’m taking you to my home. It’s not that far away,” Joel responded, his southern accent growing stronger while he continued down the street in the direction of the homes that were in Jackson. “We’ll get you into proper clothes, sit you down in front of the fireplace to warm up and I’ll get something warm into you.”

Pausing to consider what he just had said had her snickering against the side of his neck and he huffed, “Be mature for ten seconds. You know I mean a drink.”

“Suddenly you care?” she tried to gather herself from continuing to tease Joel. Yeah, it was immature, but the things that Joel had said to her yesterday had eaten away at her all night and into today. Honestly? She knew she shouldn’t have been complaining because her legs ached and she wondered if she would have even been able to walk back to the inn with how sore she was. Tipping her head back enough, there was an amused expression over Joel’s features and it made her frown. “I’m just saying. Yesterday you weren’t very nice to me.”

“What did you say I was occasionally? An asshole?” Joel confirmed with her, his breathing creating a visible mist in the air with how cold it actually was. Giving him a tiny nod, she curled her arms tighter around him with him turning another corner. “It’s more than occasionally. But I’m also on occasion a gentleman.”

Even though she wanted to fight him, she truthfully liked being in his arms and just lowered her head again. They were quiet when he made it to a home that she assumed was his with his last name painted on the mailbox. Moving up the steps to the walkway that led to his home, Joel’s face scrunched up and he laughed, “Although, I do have to ask you. You’re a smart person. What led you to think it was smart wearing this in this kind of temperature?”

“I uh…” she clung tighter to Joel with him moving up the steps to his home. When he reached the door, Joel carefully lowered her down for a moment with one of his arms still wrapped around her to brace her weight against him. Digging into his pockets, he managed to pull out his keys. Struggling to get the door open, he gave her a nervous smile fumbling with it until it opened. Grunting out, he picked her up in his arms again after he put the keys back into his pocket. “Joel!”

“Calm down, I’ve got you,” he hushed her, kicking the door shut with his heel acting as if her worrying about the idea of him dropping her was ridiculous. Walking throughout his house in the dark seemed to be easy for him. Before she knew what was happening, she was being set down on his couch carefully before he walked through the room to turn the light on. “Let’s get the fire started for you…”

Watching him from the couch she knew that she was a tremoring mess. Probably looking ridiculous with his hat and gloves on. Joel was right. It was too fucking cold to pull a stunt like that. And she knew better. She was a doctor after all. For a few minutes Joel worked with the fireplace until he got it working. Swiftly, he moved one of his seats closer to the fire and headed over toward the couch again.

“I can stand up,” she went to stop him, but he didn’t allow her when he picked her up with ease. Being cautious with the way he sat her down, she was amazed at how gentle he was being with her. Especially after last night. The warmth of the fire felt nice with Joel reaching to pull the gloves from her hands. Tossing the gloves aside, he grabbed a hold of her hands and rubbed at them to gather some warmth. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he shook his head, dropping his hands down to rub at her legs that were undoubtedly the coldest part of her. It wasn’t something that was sexual, he really was doing his best just to warm her up. The gesture was very sweet and she felt a lump growing in her throat watching him. “Let me go get you something to wear. I did the laundry today, so it should be fresh. I promise.”

“You don’t have to…” before she could finish Joel had already walked out of the living room leaving her alone to herself sitting in front of the fire.

The time alone allowed her to gaze upon Joel’s home for the first time. Except for the tree that was in the corner of the room left unplugged, everything was extraordinarily average. Joel’s living room was clean, everything had a place and the only thing that she noticed was the paintings on the wall reminded her a lot of the inn. It was too bad she didn’t have the strength to walk around and explore but her body was exactly where it wanted to be. Enjoying the warmth of the fireplace that Joel had sat her near. The sound of footsteps returning was heard and she looked toward the area Joel walked away to see him rounding the corner.

“I grabbed you some sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie that I had in there,” Joel moved before her, holding out the clothes that he had grabbed for her. Accepting them, she lowered them down into her lap with Joel nervously looking around his living room. Messing his fingers through his hair, Joel stumbled through the living room and plugged the tree in to give her more light. Unlike the inn where the Christmas tree was extravagant, this was very plain. It just had lights on it with no decorations whatsoever. “I’ll turn the television on so you have some background noise while I make you something warm. Would you prefer some coffee or hot chocolate? I’m a coffee guy. Big fan of coffee. But if it’s too late for that…”

“Coffee is fine,” she cut him off, not wanting to be much of a bother with things.

“You can change in here. I’ll stay in the kitchen for a few just to make sure I don’t see anything,” Joel promised snapping his fingers. Clicking his tongue against the top of his mouth, a rush of color flooded into Joel’s face and he seemed to be embarrassed. Turning on his heel, he headed back toward what she assumed was the kitchen leaving her there. Waiting for a moment, she shakily stood up from the chair and worked her dress off. Putting the clothes on that he gave her to the best of her ability, she folded up the dress and then lowered down into the chair again. “Permission to come in?”

Looking to the entrance of the room, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Joel holding his hand dramatically over his eyes while taking big steps into the room. Holding out a pair of socks drew her eyes to them with Joel huffing, “I thought you might need these. Cold feet is never a good feeling.”

“You can uncover your eyes,” she assured him with Joel dropping his hand down at his side. Even though he was in fact being a gentleman, she really wouldn’t have cared if he had seen her naked. Strangely, she was that comfortable with Joel. “Thank you for these.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel watched her closely, holding his hand out for her dress. “I’ll hang that up to dry if you would like.”

Handing off the dress, she was impressed with how good Joel was taking care of her. Whatever Joel had turned on the television before he left appeared to be some kind of Christmas romance film. And it brought a smile to her wondering if Joel often watched these type of movies since this was the channel that was left on.

“Y’know what I still can’t wrap my mind around?” Joel’s voice made her jump when he returned to the living room with two mugs in his hands. Unhurriedly handing hers off to her, Joel made sure she had a good hold of it before releasing it. Cupping the mug in her hands, she was using it mainly just to warm herself up. “That you somehow thought it was a smart idea to wear all that just to get my attention.”

“It worked,” she reminded him with Joel taking a moment to think that over. Tipping his head from side to side, his bottom lip curled before he nodded. “Didn’t it?”

“Oh, it worked. I just thought it was ridiculous,” Joel informed her, leaning his arm against the wall that was beside the fireplace. Bringing his mug up to his lips, Joel took what sounded like an annoyingly loud slurp of his coffee and she wondered if he did it on purpose. “The whole idea was to wear something inconspicuous so we could get away with it. Wearing that dress? You had the bartender exploding in his pants. All eyes were on you. We could have never done what we talked about. With your breasts being all perky and nice.”

“Perky and nice?” she chuckled at his description. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” Joel bobbed his head about with a tiny smirk tugging at his features. “You really thought coming into that bar today would get me to come over there and do the things we talked about last night?”

“It was worth a shot,” she thought aloud, turning her attention back toward the fire. Taking her first sip of the coffee, she knew that this was more so for the warmth.

“Why?” Joel muttered with a huff, his face scrunching up in disbelief. “I treated you like shit yesterday and you still wanted to do that with me?”

“I guess I’m kind of a moron,” she theorized, her eyebrows bouncing up provoking him to chuckle under his breath. Shifting uneasily in the seat that he had moved for her, her eyes finally looked up at him. “I unfortunately couldn’t get my mind off you all night. When you can’t stop thinking about someone you become pretty desperate to get their attention. Even if that means hurting yourself in the process. Falling in the snow was not part of the plan though, I promise you that.”

Stepping forward, Joel extended his hand to collect her jaw loosely between his rough fingertips, “Don’t ever hurt yourself for me again. I may be a dick, but I don’t wanna see you dead. You understand me? It doesn’t take much for you to catch my attention. You don’t have to risk your health in order to do it.”

“Would you have been as nice to me otherwise?” she interrogated him, getting his eyes to narrow almost immediately after. While it was a nice thing to hear, she doubted that Joel would have been so welcoming like this if she wouldn’t have been stupid. “See. You wouldn’t have.”

“Touché,” Joel grumbled, motioning her to wait. Setting his coffee down on the coffee table near the couch, Joel made his way over toward one of the closets to pull out a blanket for her. Heading back over, he was careful in the way he wrapped it around her and over her shoulders. “Good?”

Turning his head, the warmth of his breath lingered over hers and it made a shuddering exhale escape her lips. Not being able to form words, she just nodded with Joel tipping his head forward just enough to nuzzle his nose in against hers.

“Why did you do what you did last night? I don’t need to know that stuff with Tommy. I mean with me,” she wanted to know his reasoning with her heart skipping a beat at the closeness of him. “What did I do?”

“It wasn’t you,” Joel slurred, his cheek rubbing in against hers and with her free hand she instinctively started to stroke her fingers at the back of his neck. “What I said is true Y/N. I’m nothing good. I’m poison. The quicker you see that, the better.”

“This doesn’t feel like poison,” she noted placing a delicate kiss over the side of his face having him tense up before her. His body’s reactions to her drove her wild for this man. Every touch she gave him had him reacting, even if he didn’t want it to. It was involuntary, but he yearned for every delicate sweep of her fingers over his skin along with her kisses. “This actually feels really nice.”

“I’m no good for anyone,” Joel’s words vibrated against her cheek with him starting to pepper faint kisses there. This was an odd way to have such a serious conversation, but she liked it. “Especially someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” she repeated, her eyelids heavy when she pulled back just enough to meet his chocolate brown eyes. Tracing her fingertips through the facial hair that covered his jawline made him suck in a sharp breath of air.

Lowering down onto his knees, the heat from Joel’s palm had her leaning into his touch with him caressing over her face, “Someone perfect. Someone delicate. Someone who deserves better than someone like me. I never know the right thing to say. I’m angry all the time. You don’t need that in your life.”

Dragging his thumb across her bottom lip, Joel’s breathing grew uneven with his eyes following the movement, “I don’t understand this. Whatever it is going on between us. We only just met, but I’m addicted to you.”

Kissing faintly at the pad of his thumb drew him in closer to her. There was a longing in his eyes that had a fire burning deep within her.

“Not just because you want to fuck me?” she recalled what he had said the night before evoking him to let out a raspy laugh.

“I won’t lie, I do desperately want to sleep with you,” Joel confessed with a grunt, his nose nuzzling in against hers again. Hearing that excited her. Especially since she had a yearning for him as well. “But that’s not the only reason I like you. I don’t know what it is, but when you touch me…even if it’s you touching my face…”

“You’re touch starved,” she heard the pant that he released with her dragging her hand across the side of his neck and up over his face. Cuddling his head into her touch, Joel’s lips parted and his long eyelashes fluttered to a close. “You are so beautiful.”

Hearing her call him beautiful made a tiny smile tug at his lips and she was certain he was thinking that was an odd way to describe a man like him, “Would you hold me?”

“Are you sure?” Joel confirmed with her, but it didn’t take long for her to nod. Setting aside the coffee he got for her, she stood up from the chair to have Joel lower down into it. Helping to lead her back into his lap, Joel managed to wrap them both up in the blanket with his arms wrapping around her to hold onto her. Nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck, Joel hummed as he placed tiny kisses there as well. “I’m a mess.”

“I know,” she agreed with him, an involuntary smile pressing in over her lips with her stroking her fingers through his dark messy hair. “But I am too.”

For a while she just sat in his arms, enjoying the way the fire worked to warm her up as well as the warmth of his body surrounding hers. At some point the television had drawn her attention and she saw that a love scene was on the screen.

“You know, no one has ever made love to me like that,” she commented seeing that the two characters were laying in front of a fireplace wrapped up in blankets. “In the movies, love scenes seem so perfect…”

“Movies are completely unrealistic,” Joel reminded her with a scoff, grunting with a laugh when she swatted at his chest. “I’m just saying. Love scenes are a fabricated lie that people use to make women swoon. To believe in something more. But no one has sex like that.”

“Well that’s a shame,” she suggested liking the way that Joel rubbed his cheek in against hers again with his facial hair scratching at her skin. “Women wait a lifetime for moments like that and it never happens.”

“That’s what the film industry does. Sets people up to be let down,” Joel hinted, pulling her in closer to him with a long sigh.

“You know,” she pulled her attention away from Joel for just a moment to look at Joel’s tree. “I’m surprised how bare your tree is. You barely have any decorations in here. Whereas at the inn? Everything is covered.”

“I told you that was more Tommy and Maria,” Joel stole a quick look back at his tree, grunting out at the sight of it. “Tommy put that up. He wanted me to have something for Christmas. It’s not really my thing. It brings back feelings for me that I don’t like having. I’m sure…I’m sure you understand.”

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I do understand why you feel the way you do,” she swept her thumb in over his jawline, getting his dark eyes to lock with hers. “Whatever happened Joel, I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Joel frowned, turning in toward her hand to place a kiss over the center of her palm. Curling his finger in underneath her chin, Joel led her to him, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss. It was sweet, almost romantic. And by the time they separated her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. “I shouldn’t feel this way this fast.”

“It’s okay,” she hushed him, outstretching her fingers to trace in over the lines of his face. A loud exhaled escaped him and the way he looked at her took her breath away. “Joel? Do you think you could teach me how to play the guitar?”

“Right now? Is that what you want to do?” Joel’s head tipped back, lifting to grab a loose hold of her hand. Confirming with a nod, she felt Joel shifting her weight and she shakily stood to her feet. Taking care of the fireplace, Joel held his hand out to hers and tipped his head in the direction of his stairs. “You want me to carry you?”

“I think I can handle it,” she responded feeling silly that he had to carry her as much as he did already. Wiggling her legs, she could tell that they still were numb but she thought she would be good enough to move.

“Follow me,” he ordered, smirking when he held his hand out to hers. Without question, she hooked her fingers with his and he led her unhurriedly up the stairs. One thing she noticed about Joel’s house was a lot of it was covered in paintings and not so many photos. This could have been anyone’s home really. Reaching the second floor, she knew that this would be a place she’d love to explore just to get to have a better understanding of Joel. Leading her to one of the rooms, Joel kept a hold of her hand when he flicked the switch on for his office. “This is where I uh…make things.”

“Make things?” she looked around his work room not knowing where to look first. Several acoustic guitars were hanging on the wall. There were shelves with multiple carvings resting on them. Letting go of Joel’s hand she moved over toward them to inspect each one of them. Reaching for one of them, she took it off the shelf to observe it. The carving was a very detailed one of a grizzly bear standing on a large rock after catching a fish in its mouth. A few of the carvings were left unfinished, but this one? Everything was done along with the painting of it. And it was amazing. “You did this?”

“Yeah,” Joel stood at the center of the room, his hands in his pockets with his shoulders slouching forward. When she looked to him it seemed like he might have been embarrassed when she returned it and then reached for another one that he did. “I like to keep my mind busy. I look at pictures and then I uh, well I carve them.”

“These are amazing,” she applauded him on his work, setting them down and then moving over toward where the acoustic guitars were hanging. “And you make these as well?”

“I do,” Joel was quiet while she gazed upon his work. “Those are probably my favorite thing to make. When people ask me for one, I like to try to fit their personality to it. I told you I loved music growing up, so I’m drawn to that kind of stuff.”

“These are impressive Joel,” she continued to make her way around the room stopping at one of his work benches to look at the carving he was working on. It was partially done, but it was easy to tell that it was rodeo themed with a cowboy riding a horse that was on its back legs. “I could never do something like this.”

“Well, like I said…” Joel headed over toward the acoustic guitar that was at the corner of the room. Picking it up, Joel held it in his hands and headed over toward one of the seats to sit down. “You’re good with your hands. And I’m good with mine. Just in other ways.”

“No kidding,” she agreed with him hearing him starting to strum a few chords behind her while she took her time looking upon his next work bench where he obviously made his acoustic guitars. “This is impressive.”

“Mhmm…” Joel didn’t want to act like it was a big deal because it was something he just did in his spare time. It wasn’t like it was much of a big deal for him. After she felt like she had invaded his privacy enough, she reached for one of the chairs and pulled it before him. “Did you have any kind of music training when you were younger?”

“Nothing extensive,” she found herself in awe that Joel could just continue to play a tune like it was nothing while sharing a conversation with her. “How many songs do you know by heart?”

“Don’t know,” Joel slurred, his southern drawl growing deeper as she slid in closer to him. “Lots I reckon.”

“How do you remember them all?” she heard Joel easily change to a different recognizable song without even stumbling or having any problems at all.

“Do you have to look at an instruction manual every time you do a surgery?” Joel inquired, his right eyebrow arching drawing out a smirk from her. Shaking her head, Joel snickered to himself and sighed loudly. “Then I guess in the same way you don’t have to do that.”

“Will you sing for me?” she pushed remembering that Joel had told her that he wanted to be a singer when he was younger. “Please?”

“Nope,” he stuck to his guns, changing the tune again impressing her with how easily he seemed to do it. “I don’t sing in front of people.”

“You’re going to sing for me at some point,” she claimed, her head bobbing about causing Joel to snort and dramatically shake his head. “I’m going to hear that voice and you are going to want to play for me when you do.”

“Sorry, not gonna happen,” Joel refused once more eliciting a frustrated sound from her. “Even if you use that cute little frown on me, I won’t do it. I’ve already let you know too much as it is. You coming into my house? This? It’s a big deal.”

“Do you have to kill me now?” she mocked, her eyebrows bouncing up pulling out a raspy laugh from inside of him. Hearing him laugh like that had a warmth flooding throughout her body.

“I might,” Joel grumbled, his one dimple very prominent with the smile still over his lips. “Gotta keep my secrets, y’know?”

Resting her elbows on her knees, she lowered down to get comfortable while he played the guitar, “Tell you what? How about I make you one of my acoustic guitars to make up for my lack of singing around you. Would you like that?”

“You’d do that?” she seemed excited at the idea and he gave her a single nod appreciating that she seemed to want that. “That’d be awesome.”

“Okay then,” Joel stopped playing and stood up from the chair to move over to place the guitar in her hands. Watching her adjust it made him smirk and he immediately shook his head. “No, don’t hold it like that.”

Kneeling down in front of her, Joel took her hands to show her the proper way to hold onto the guitar. Really, she did her best to listen to Joel explaining things to her, but she was having issues. Distracted would be an understatement. Joel was going over the parts of the guitar with her, explaining things and she listened, but at the same time she was just enjoying being close to him.

By the time Joel was teaching her simple chords after grabbing her a guitar pick, she felt a chill running down her spine. Joel was standing behind her, his hands helping to move hers and she just liked having him near. For a while she did her best to focus and while she learned some things, having Joel’s head so close to hers drew her to look upon him.

“Everything okay?” Joel noticed that she was staring at him and he gave her a weak smile.

Not knowing exactly what to say, she lowered down the guitar and turned in her seat toward him, “Can I be honest with you?”

“You have been thus far. So I’d expect nothing else from you,” Joel reminded her noticing the uneasiness in her body when she looked down. “Hey?”

“You’re my favorite thing about this town,” she declared, her eyes lifting once more having Joel swallow down hard with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I thought of leaving tomorrow, but nothing inside of me wants to truly do that because I like spending time with you. Call me pathetic, call me what you want, but being around you? It just feels good.”

Dropping his stare to her lips, Joel’s breathing grew louder. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, Joel led her to him to steal another kiss from her. At first his kisses were gentle and delicate. Soft sweeps of his lips over hers led her to lean in closer to him. Kissing him felt incredible and it was addictive.

Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, Joel grabbed a hold of the guitar to set it aside carefully. Standing up had her following him moving from the chair eager to meet him in another passionate kiss that had him wrapping her up in his arms.

Picking her up had her gasping against his mouth as he stumbled over toward one of his free desks. Lowering her down on top of it, Joel growled with the way that she cupped his face. Tender strokes of her thumbs against the side of his face had his lips parting. Having her touching him had chills flooding down his spine. No one had this kind of effect on him. Especially not this fast.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Joel confessed, pressing his forehead to hers. A tremoring breath escaped his lips. And in that moment? She saw desperation in his eyes. The idea of her leaving actually upset him. Leaning into her touch, Joel knew that he craved to have her near him. How he felt for her? It was indescribable. “Please don’t run away because of me. I know I’m hard to care for…”

Brushing her fingers through his messy hair, she gazed up seeing just how emotionally broken Joel really was. Conflicting emotions flooded throughout Joel, but she could see that she meant something to him. What he needed was what Tommy said earlier. Someone who wouldn’t give up on him because he was too trapped in what he was used to. Which was torturing himself.

Hushing him, she leaned in to press faint kisses over his lips. Having him panic about her leaving was not her intentions. Sliding her hands down in over the sides of his neck, she lowered them even further and dragged the backs of her hands over the front of his chest. Starting to work open the buttons of his shirt had Joel’s breathing broken, his forehead pressing in against hers. Helping her, Joel managed to get his shirt down his body allowing it to fall at his feet on the floor. Almost immediately her hands were reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt working it from his body.

Grunting out, Joel lifted his arms aiding to get it off him. Dropping the t-shirt down on the ground, she lowered her stare to gaze upon his naked torso. It was the first time that she actually got to see him completely shirtless. And she wanted to take all of him in. Placing her hands gently in over the center of Joel’s chest had his lips parting with his eyelids growing heavy. Right now she wanted to learn all of him. Tracing her fingers along the lengths of his abdomen had him sucking in a sharp breath of air.

“I haven’t had someone touch me like this in a long time,” Joel reminded her of something he had said previously when they were fooling around. Watching her touch him, Joel licked his lips when she drew shapes down over the lengths of his body toward the softer part of his stomach under his bellybutton. “I’m sorry for the way I’m acting.”

“I like it,” she quieted him, shaking her head with Joel’s long eyelashes fluttering. While he was panicked, she was in awe of him. There was a vulnerability in him that was easy to pick up on with her tracing lines over his torso. Reaching his lower abdomen, it was then she finally noticed the significant scarring that was there. How she had missed this before blew her mind. Dragging her fingertips over the puckered flesh drew out a nervous sound from Joel. Shakily, he reached for her hands to stop her.

“Joel,” she shook her head, using her free hand to get him to relax. Sliding in closer to the edge of the table, she hovered her lips in over his. Even though he was uneasy with his body, she appreciated every part of him. “Your scars, mental or physical, they make you who you are. And who you are is beautiful.”

Releasing a tremoring breath, Joel’s fingers were fast to grab for the hoodie that he had given her. Quickly he helped her get it from her body much like she had done with him. Tossing it onto the floor with his shirts, Joel panted realizing that he was eager. Not hesitating in his movements, he grabbed a hold of her t-shirt next. Locking eyes with her, Joel could sense that she became nervous in that moment. Tugging the material up her body, Joel stopped at her arms. With a nod, she lifted her arms for him allowing him to pull it from her body. A long exhale escaped his throat when her breasts were revealed to him for the first time with a slight bounce from the movement. Dropping the t-shirt at his feet, Joel’s hands pressed faintly in over her sides while she sank her fingers into his hair.

“You are breathtaking,” Joel whispered, his thumbs sweeping at the area just below her ribcage. It had her arching in closer to him with his hands sliding further up to cup tenderly at the underside of her breasts. Whimpering at the sensation, she pulled Joel in closer to her having his forehead pressing against hers. Bringing their bodies closer together, Joel wrapped her up in his arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest with his nose nuzzling in against the side of her neck. The skin-to-skin contact felt amazing with both of them tracing the lengths of the others body with lazy, lingering strokes of their fingertips.

Joel wasn’t a very verbal lover, but the reaction of his body to hers was more than enough making her realize what he was feeling. Wet kisses were being pressed against her shoulder, the sensation of his facial hair scratching against her skin evoking shivers throughout her body.

“You are so beautiful,” Joel mirrored her sentiment with his mouth finding its way to her neck. Nipping at her flesh, Joel’s mouth started to trail a line in over her collarbone. Resting his head against her chest, Joel’s right hand caressed up over the front of her abdomen until his thumb came in direct contact with her nipple. Circling it faintly with the rough pad of his thumb, Joel groaned out with the sound she made when he did it. Dropping his head down, Joel’s mouth surrounded her breast dragging the length of his tongue across the flesh. Teasing his tongue around the small bud in circular motions, Joel heard her moaning out and the ache inside of his body grew larger. A firm tug of her fingers at his hair had him lifting his head back to meet her in a hungry kiss. Brushing his tongue against hers, Joel’s body started to tremble as her hands dropped down to start working open the belt in his jeans. Cupping her face firmly, Joel wanted to keep his eyes locked with hers as she worked open his pants.

Tugging at his jeans, she got his pants open and parted them causing Joel to step forward. Teasing her fingertips at his hips, she caressed at his sides and up over his body again. Leaning back, Joel looked down between the two of them. Sweeping his thumb in over her jawline had her leaning into his caress. In that moment she noticed something and reached for Joel’s wrist.

“Joel?” she seemed worried with her eyes centering in over his watch that was on his wrist. What had worried her was that the watch appeared to be broken with a crack over it. “Did we do this?”

“Don’t,” Joel warned, pulling back and away from her lowering his hand down at his side to keep her from looking at it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that happened,” she apologized assuming that they had done it with him carrying her over toward the table. “I can pay for that to get fixed and…”

“It’s been like that for a while,” Joel explained forcing himself to look away from her. Huffing out, Joel reached down to grab the t-shirt he had taken from her body and the hoodie. Holding them out toward her, Joel’s jaw flexed and he appeared angry almost immediately. Why was this happening again? “This was a bad idea. Get dressed. I’ll get you a ride back to the inn.”

“Joel?” she breathed out shocked at how quickly he turned on her with him grabbing his t-shirt to pull it back on. Hastily pulling the t-shirt she had in over her body, she was quick to follow Joel out of the room reaching to grab his wrist before he could leave. “What did I do?”

“Nothing. You did nothing,” Joel snapped at her getting a chill to run down her spine at how fast his attitude seemed to change when she noticed his broken watch. Some kind of switch had been flicked inside of him and that man that was desperate to be near her suddenly seemed to want to push her away again. “I just think it’s best for you to leave.”

“Stop,” her voice raised, hooking her fingers tighter around Joel’s wrist to force him from leaving. Pulling him back to her, she closed the distance between the two of them with her palm caressing in over the side of his face getting him to look at her. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and I won’t pretend that I understand but stop pushing me away from you.”

“I can’t do this,” Joel confessed with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat, a sense of sadness flooding throughout his features. Lifting her other hand, she caressed at the sides of his face having him whimpering.

“Can’t do what?” she tried to understand, being empathetic to whatever his situation was. “You don’t have to hide yourself from me Joel. Whatever is going on, I’ll understand it. We can work through it. I know what it feels like to be broken.”

“I don’t want you hurt,” Joel stressed to her, lifting his hands to curl his fingers around her wrists to stroke his thumbs at her pulse points. Within time his expression softened, the lines in his face becoming less prominent. A broken breath escaped him and she realized that was his way of putting a wall up between them, but she was doing her best to break it down in whatever ways she could. “I told you…”

“You’re poison,” she repeated what he had said before, his body tremoring as she closed the distance between them. “But you see? As stupid as it sounds, I’m a doctor. And whatever you think is going to happen to me, it won’t.”

“It’s not just that,” Joel grunted, his body incredibly tense as he stood before her. “I don’t deserve to have anything good in my life. What I had before this…”

“Joel,” she hushed him noticing that he was starting to get worked up again. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. Resting her head against the center of his chest, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. Having her near caused his heartbeat to go faster. “You don’t have to tell me what happened or what you are going through but stop pushing me away. Because I’m just going to keep coming back.”

After hearing her say that, Joel lowered his head and nestled his chin in over the top of her head. Wrapping her up in his arms, Joel let out a tremoring breath and she knew that he was loosening up to things, “There is something in you that heals a part of me. Things that I didn’t think I was capable of…”

Tipping her head back, she stared up into Joel’s dark eyes and shook her head, “let me do that for you.”

“I’m so broken,” Joel confessed with her hand sliding up to caress in over the center of his chest. “I’m no good.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she countered, reaching for his hand to place it in over the center of her chest. Joel’s dark eyes gazed between them with his body faintly shaking. “Because I see parts of you that I don’t even think you realize exist. Just let me help you.”

Emotions flooded through his face and without saying anything, Joel grabbed a hold of her hand leading her toward his bedroom. Laying down at the center of the bed had her carefully crawling in beside him with them facing each other.

Reaching for his hand, she hooked her fingers with his and Joel pressed his forehead up to hers. Silence surrounded them, but it was obvious things were weighing heavy on Joel’s mind, “There so much good to you Joel Miller. You just have to give yourself a chance to see.”

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[sainteclectic]

oh and in case anyone needs it, here's my process for describing my art:

what kind of drawing is it? is it a sketch? a painted piece? is it traditional or digital? are the lines messy, clean, or do they not exist at all? how much of the person is showing? I always put this part first {i.e. "A digital full-body painting of [...]", "A traditional bust shot sketch of..."}

who's the subject of the drawing? if their appearance is relevant or markedly different from their canonical appearance, describe it here. you don't need to describe every detail, just enough for it to be a clear visual in your mind. also, don't get too bogged down in the technical names of things {i.e. "he wears a strapless red ball gown" vs "he wears a vermillion ball gown with a semi-sweetheart neckline and a basque waist". the common reader will probably get tripped up by all the specifics, even if it is more accurate}. if the outfits aren't particularly relevant to the piece, or it's an already established design, you dont have to describe them every time.

what is the person doing? describe the pose—this can get tricky, so i like to take it one step at a time. what position are they in? leaning, sitting, standing? do the position of their limbs stand out in any way {i.e. hands on their hips}? if they're interacting with another person, what are they doing together? again, you dont have to describe every detail of their posture, just things that would stick out as relevant to the piece or the character's personality in it.

what's the general mood of the piece? does the character look happy? is the lighting moody? don't get too subjective here. focus on what the character is feeling, not what the audience might feel looking at them {i.e. "he looks down with a conflicted expression" vs "the drawing looks incredibly sad"}

if there's a detailed background, I like to describe it after the character since it's probably noticed by viewers in that order. describe the relevant parts a person looking at it would be likely to notice {i.e. not every book on a shelf, but noting that it is a bookshelf, and only mentioning titles if they're relevant to the imagery as a whole}

finally, if there's any text on the image, whether it be typed or written, write those down exactly as they come up naturally in the description {i.e. describe dialogue in the same part you describe that part of the drawing, but save things like bios until after the main description}

aaaand that's basically it! I use this as a general checklist for every description I make, and I think it's an easy way to start if you're intimidated by image descriptions. remember, it doesn't have to be a perfect description of every detail - because realistically, most people viewing it wouldn't notice those details, and you want to keep the description as close to the visual experience as possible

and any description is better than no description! every step towards accessibility is worth taking, even if it seems like a small one ^-^

[something-tofightfor]

A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 5

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 9,438

Summary: You and Pero have talked things through - and it's time to figure out what comes next for you.

For both of you, though, that means being open, honest ... and asking for exactly what you want.

Rating: M/E : This is a smutty one, friends. It's finally happening.

Author's Note:

The end is here, and I cannot thank you enough for the support and interest you've shown in this story. It definitely grew from what I first envisioned it to be, and I'm really happy with the outcome - I hope you are, too. It's always so intimidating to write for a new character, but to know that one of my favorite Pero writers - I'm looking at you, @oonajaeadira - has enjoyed this take on him means a TON.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

You both sat on the couch while you ate, and Pero filled you in on exactly what had happened with the power at the party. 

“Something in the kitchen overloaded the wiring.” He waved his hand in the air, fingers clutching the remnants of a sandwich. “And when they tried to reset that breaker, they tripped the whole building.” He laughed, shaking his head and swearing under his breath. “That’s how it all came back so quickly.” 

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.” He nodded as he chewed. “Did they get pissed at you since you weren’t right there to protect Christina?” 

“No.” He took another bite. “The assignment was never to be right beside her at all times. William and I were further away than her team, and I just happened to be near you.” You didn’t quite think that was the truth; Pero had to have searched for you in order to be that close, since you’d purposely moved almost all the way across the party space. “And I got to where they were as soon as I could to assess the situation. I did my job.” 

“You protected me.” You took a bite of the food he’d gotten you, giving yourself a few seconds to think. “You were there to protect someone else, and you still … You were mad at me, Pero. I didn’t expect …” 

“I did. And I would do it again. I told you that.” He sipped from his cup,  lips wrapping around the straw. “Even upset, I was still worried about you.” Pero balled up the wrapper from his meal and then leaned back against the couch cushions. “I was actually going to pull you to the side at the party and apologize because I acted like an asshole. But you didn’t give me the chance.” He looked past you and his eyes widened. “It’s almost midnight.” 

You looked, too, and with a smile you realized that as soon as the clock struck 12, you could be the first person to wish Pero a Merry Christmas. I wonder if he’s ever had anyone with him for a holiday like this before. “I’m sad we don’t have our hats from the meet and greet.” You looked back at him, grinning. “Santa Pero tucking me into bed on Christmas Eve would be -” 

He groaned, covering his face with both hands as you laughed, reaching over to settle your hand between his shoulders. “You would like that, wouldn’t you.” 

“I would.” Leaning in, you let your mouth hover just above his ear. “I would like that very much, Pero Tovar.” You weren’t used to having to take such a lead with men, but until Pero truly believed that your interest was genuine - and not short term - you had no issue with being a little more forward than usual to get results. Because I don’t think it’ll be this way forever. He just needs to get comfortable.

“I kept your toothbrush.” He looked over at you, a half smile on his lips. “I hoped you’d get  to use it again.” Really? You both sat up and Pero pointed at the hallway. “I’m going to clean up out here, if you need to do anything to get ready for bed.” He stood, reaching out with one hand. “I have one request though.” Arching a brow, you waited for him to continue. “Wait… and let me help you out of those clothes.” 

It took a little while for the two of you to do what you needed to do, but the whole time, your heart was racing. 

You figured he was nervous, too, but you hoped that it was in a good way, Pero’s desire for you outweighing any lingering apprehension he felt about the situation. By the time you made your way into his bedroom, flipping the light switch on and taking a look around the space, you were determined to do whatever it took to put him at ease. It keeps me from getting into my own head, too. 

There were a few photos on the walls - mostly of Pero, Lin and William, but there were a few more, too, that looked like they’d been taken on his phone and printed out. Some of them were scenery, some of them were cityscapes, and you made a mental note to ask him about them - and where they’d been taken. Later. Not tonight. 

His room was cozy, and out of the other places in his home that you’d spent time in, it felt the most like him. It wasn’t just because it smelled like Pero - it also seemed to be the most lived in. “I like seeing you in here.” He appeared in the doorway, and then leaned against it. “It’s unexpected, but I like it.” 

“Do you?” He nodded, eyeing you up and down. I like being in here. “Your bed looks comfortable.” You pointed, leaning back and against the dresser. “Is it?” 

“You’ll find out soon.” Pero stepped forward, his motion smooth and slow, almost graceful. “Before anything happens, I …” He stopped in front of you, lifting one hand to tilt your chin up. “After what I told you earlier, I figured you might have some … concerns.” Oh. The paying for sex. I didn’t … “It’s been months since I’ve done that. I’m careful, and always use protection. And afterward…” He wet his lips. “I get tested regularly, since all of my relationships are short-lived. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I got results, so …” He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, holding it up. “I can show you, but -”

“I trust you.” You put a hand at the center of his chest. “And I know you’re going to say that it’s stupid to trust someone with something like that, but I do.” Because trust is important. He looked confused and then the expression turned to acceptance, Pero’s gaze moving over your face. “Anything else?” 

“No.” He paused, and then frowned. “Well, yes.” You smiled at that, giving him a chance to continue. “I might need …” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Just be patient with me, please?” 

“Patient?” He nodded slowly. “Of course, Pero.” But what does that even mean? “Do you need anything else, or are we in here for the night?” He thought for a few seconds and then moved his head from side to side, eyes locked with yours. 

“I only need you.” Inhaling sharply through your nose at the confession, you didn’t even think about it before you leaned in and kissed him, the tips of your fingers curling inward and against the material of his shirt. His hands settled in at your waist to hold you close, and when Pero returned the kiss, he did it with purpose, his full lips moving with yours like it wasn’t a new thing. 

You felt his tongue probing along your lower one and parted them for him, hoping that Pero wouldn’t tease you the same way he had earlier. Seconds later, you got your wish when it slipped past your lips to meet yours, Pero’s fingers digging in and making you sigh. He stopped immediately, breaking the kiss and backing off enough that you saw the wide eyed expression on his face. This must be the patience thing. 

“That was a good noise. Please don’t stop.” You moved your hand as you spoke, sliding it over so that you could begin to undo his buttons. “This shirt is a great color for you.” Breaking eye contact, you watched the motion of your fingers and listened to each of Pero’s sharp inhales as you moved downward. “I can’t wait to see it on the floor.” 

He snorted at that and you were thankful for it, the sound confirming that he wasn’t getting too lost in his own head about what was happening. “I was thinking the same thing earlier tonight about what you are wearing.” He spoke quietly, pulling the bottom hem of your shirt free from where it was tucked in. “But I was also wondering what you have on beneath it.” 

You reached the last button before his waist and then looked back up, biting your lip. “You’re about to find out.” His smile spread slowly, the expression one you weren’t used to seeing him wear. Pero tipped his head to the right and dropped a kiss at the corner of your mouth, hands sliding up and beneath your shirt so that his palms were flush with your skin. 

It was your turn to gasp then, the warmth of his hands comforting. He continued to kiss his way across the lower half of your face, lips skating over your cheek and then toward your ear before dropping down to follow the line of your jaw. Your hands stayed busy, moving lower to the button on his pants and popping it free, which gave you a chance to pull his shirt loose, too, and finish undoing it. 

He groaned when you touched his abdomen, pushing the sides of the shirt apart, and when Pero backed away, there was a wild look in his eyes.”I like this. The … slowness? You are taking your time, and… it is new.” Glancing over his shoulder so that you could see the clock on his nightstand, your eyebrows shot up. Perfect. 

“I’m just enjoying opening my first present.” You wrinkled your nose. “Merry Christmas, by the way. According to your clock, it’s after midnight.” He turned to look, too, and then said your name when he faced you again. 

“Sorry that I am not wearing a bow.” He wet his lips, the flash of his tongue distracting you. “To make this more festive.” 

“You don’t need one.” Using one finger, you prodded at the chain around his neck. “This is shiny enough.” And. “And I think you should leave it on.” That took him by surprise, but Pero quickly agreed, the arch of one eyebrow telling you that he was intrigued by your request. “Help me out here.” You moved your hands to his shirt again, easing it back and over his shoulders. “Let go of me for a second.” 

He did. It only took you moments to remove the silvery fabric, revealing that beneath it, he had on a black v-neck t shirt that was stretched over his chest and shoulders. Holy shit look at him. “What is that look for?” 

“I… you…” Gesturing with one hand, you laughed nervously. “You’re still almost fully dressed, and …” You trailed off as he reached down and pulled the shirt up and over his head, giving you your first real glimpse of skin. 

“There. Now I have solved your problems.” He grinned, scratching at the back of his neck with one hand.

“No, you’ve given me about a million more.” That made him laugh, and when Pero reached for your hand and squeezed it, leading you the few steps toward his bed, you followed. You eyed him as you walked, mapping the way his muscles looked as they moved beneath his skin and the way his unbuttoned pants sat at his waist, hugging his hips. 

“I think,” he started, turning back to look at you and reaching for your shirt, his fingers working the buttons. “That I enjoy you looking at me this way almost as much as I enjoyed the way you spoke to Christina that first night.” He paused, palming the swell of your breast with one hand and then returned to his task. “Would you say the same thing to anyone else that talked about me like she did?”

“Would you want me to?” You were breathless as you spoke, the feeling of his touch and the heat of his gaze making it hard for you to concentrate. “Is that something that I can… oh God, Pero, please just…” You broke off mid-sentence as he finished and began to push your shirt over your shoulders, his hands sliding slowly up your body. “Keep touching me.”

The smile remained on his face as he removed your shirt, the material sliding down your arms and then onto the floor. Instead of putting his hands back on your torso he used them to cradle your face, tilting it so that when he leaned in, your mouth was perfectly lined up with his. “Yes.” He mumbled the words between kisses, one hand siding back to the nape of your neck and the other dropping to your shoulder. “I would want you to.” 

You whimpered at that, wrapping your arms around Pero and stepping forward to press yourself against him. The feeling of his bare chest pressed to your body made you almost dizzy, and when your fingers dug into his back for balance, He grunted, pulling on the strap of your bra and dragging it over your shoulder. 

As much as you wanted to slow things down and savor the first time you went to bed with Pero, you knew that as soon as he removed your bra, there’d be no going back. And that’s fine. It surprised you when he broke the kiss and spun you around, winding his arms around you from behind and then ducking his head to kiss your shoulder. Wait, what is he… 

Pero rocked his hips forward, the hand on your stomach urging you backward while the other one slipped downward, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. Tipping your head back so that you could lean it against his shoulder, you sighed, closing your eyes. He was hard beneath his own pants, the length of him pressed against you, and when you reached for the hand on your belly, guiding it upward, he let you. 

He got the hint - Pero using that hand to paw at your chest, the contrast between his skin and your bra moving against your skin almost distracting you from the fact that his other hand kept moving lower and lower, pushing your pants with it. “Pero, I -” That was all you got out before he kissed you again, the angle not the most comfortable but still welcome, as was the way he bit down on your lower lip before sucking it between his. Fuck, I am lucky. 

He pushed the lace of your bra - one of the ones you saved for special occasions - to the side and then swirled a thumb over that nipple, the motion making your back arch and pushing you into him again. Pero’s mouth moved from yours back down to your shoulder and stayed there, the scrape of his stubbled chin sharp in contrast to the way he touched you elsewhere. But I don’t want him behind me. “What is wrong?” He spoke quietly, turning his head inward and nuzzling against your jaw. “You are stiff.” 

“I want…” You hummed, reaching down to stop the movement of the hand at your waist. “I want to look at you, Pero. I want to see you, not just feel you.” Turning to face him, you nodded at the sight of the confused expression he wore. “We only get this once.” 

You hoped he understood what you meant - that after that night, you’d never get the chance to be together for the very first time again. And I want it to feel personal, not like … not like it’s just something that’s happening. “Whatever you want.” He smiled again, hands gliding down to squeeze your hips. “I cannot wait to see all of you.” 

Taking that as a sign, you reached up and behind you, unhooking your bra and then shrugging out of it before letting it drop to the ground. He watched that, lips parted, and then looked back at you, his palms following the contours of your body as they rose. Yes. Finally. You arched your back again, encouraging him to keep going, and when Pero’s hands finally made it to your chest and he touched you, you moaned, closing your eyes. 

As soon as he heard that, his touch went from light and exploratory to certain, pushing your breasts together as he leaned down and mouthed at your collarbone again. And when he moved lower, you urged him to continue with one hand in his hair, fingers tangled in his locks. 

He took one nipple between his lips and sucked on it before releasing it only to follow that with a few quick flicks of his tongue before switching to the other side. You would have been content to stand there for hours, but Pero straightened up, his eyes blazing as he met your gaze again. “I think it’s time we get into that bed.” He cleared his throat, both hands still stroking over your skin. “Do you want me to turn the lights off?” 

“No.” You answered immediately, flattening one hand against his chest. “Unless that makes you more comfortable.” 

Your answer took him by surprise, but Pero wasted no time walking you backwards the few steps it took you to reach the bed. And when your shins made contact with the frame, he stopped you, both hands moving to the button - and zipper - of your pants, undoing them swiftly. He pushed them down so that you could step out of them, but left your underwear in place. 

You were stunned that you didn’t feel self conscious standing in front of him in so little, because it hadn’t been that way with your previous partners. You sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Pero and watching as he put a hand on his hip and stared at you. A few seconds later, his smile widened and Pero reached for his waist, finishing with the zipper and easing his pants down. 

He was wearing trunks, the waistband low on his hips, and the legs stretched tight around his upper thighs. “Wow, Pero.” You licked your lips, head shaking back and forth as you eyed him, lingering on his torso - and waist. “I had no idea you were hiding that under all those clothes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” He reached down, adjusting the elastic over one hip without looking away from you. “Beautiful.” Heat rushed to your cheeks then, and you ducked your head but still heard Pero’s quiet chuckle. “You do not like compliments either, hmm?”

“I’m not used to them coming from you.” Cautiously, you looked back up and put your hands out, waiting for him to take them. “Want to get in here with me?” He nodded, taking a half step forward and standing between your legs. “C’mere, Pero.” 

He leaned down, mouth finding yours again, and the series of events that followed happened almost before you could process it. 

As you kissed, Pero put one knee on top of the mattress and balanced his weight on it, using the forward motion of his body to urge you onto your back. He let go of your hands, sliding one of his beneath your head while he flattened the other palm on the bed, allowing him to hover over you. You moved your hands over his back, exploring the expanse of muscle as it flexed beneath your touch. I can’t believe this is happening. 

When you moved them down to his waist - and then lower, palms curved to follow his contours, Pero growled into your kiss, his hips snapping forward to push his length against the front of your hip. Your fingers curled inward, holding him in place - and Pero took the hint. 

He lowered his body more, grinding against you and letting you feel the weight of him. “Pero we need to move up. I…” Sighing as he paused long enough to breathe - and kiss the column of your throat - you shivered the words out. “I want us to be comfortable, and…” He backed off, giving you an opportunity to resituate yourself - and then he was on you again. 

He straddled you, legs spread wide so that when he leaned forward, he could continue the same motion as earlier. Your hands returned to the same place they’d been before, too, but instead of just touching him, you pushed your fingers beneath the material and held onto him, guiding his hips with skin-to-skin contact for the first time. 

But Pero didn’t kiss your mouth again; instead he worked his way down your throat to your chest, lips trailing along the length of your collarbone before he bit down gently, accompanied by a thrust of his hips. You could feel the cool metal of the chain as it dragged against your skin, your mind trying to focus on that and the feeling of his mouth at the same time - and failing. You were overwhelmed by him, and he’d barely touched you. I haven’t really touched him, either. 

He dragged his tongue over your skin and kissed his way down, drawing one nipple back between his lips before releasing it with a pop. “I could do this all night.” He spoke without moving away from you, the breath from each exhale warm as it hit your damp skin. “But I am impatient, and I’m sure you are, too.” 

He moved off of you and then laid down beside you, stretching out along the length of your body. When you turned your head to look at him, you weren’t expecting him to kiss you right away, his hand laying lightly against your cheek. 

Wiggling your hips, you settled in, heartbeat rapid, even after he backed away. “So I have to be patient, but you get to be impatient? That doesn’t seem fair.” He rolled his eyes, mouth opening to reply - but you didn’t give him the chance to. “Lay back.” He did as you asked, and then you propped yourself up on one elbow, taking him in. 

You were impatient too, but the desire to remind him that you were thinking beyond that night was more important. I need to show him that I want him. Sliding your hand over his stomach, you focused on the skin beneath his navel and above his waistband, fingertips circling over the dark trail of hair there before you moved back up, dragging the edges of your nails along his skin. Pero grunted, gritting his teeth - but didn’t look away. 

You leaned forward and kissed his chest, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips to his skin. You kept your hand moving, too, covering as much of his body as you could without wavering in your attention. There were parts of him that were more sensitive than others - his body jerked when you reached a spot on his side that was about halfway up his ribcage, and he groaned at the feeling of your tongue dragging slowly over the base of his throat, the breath leaving him in a whoosh when you took the chain between your teeth and tugged. 

But when your hand moved back down at the same time you redirected your kisses to the underside of his jaw, Pero stopped you, his fingers closing around yours. “No. Stop.” You raised your head in concern, but he didn’t look angry - just overstimulated. “If you touch me now, I will not make it inside of you.” He swallowed as your eyes widened in surprise. “Next time. I promise you, but … not yet.” 

“Ok, Pero.” You took a deep breath. “I understand.” He squeezed your hand and then released it, and you used it to balance yourself as you lowered your head again, mouth returning to its previous path. Pero’s hand moved almost lazily up your side as you left a trail of kisses across his face, though you avoided his mouth. You lingered at the patch in his beard before turning your head inward and nuzzling against his nose before taking another breath and deciding that if you were in - you were all in. 

When you pressed your lips to the bottom edge of his scar for the first time, Pero’s hold on you tightened, but you didn’t let that deter you. You followed the length of it with your lips, mindful of the fact that he could tell you to stop at any time, but it wasn’t until you softly kissed his closed eyelid - and felt dampness beneath your lips - that you pulled away. “Pero? Is everything… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -”

“No.” He moved faster than you thought was possible from his position, rolling the two of you over so that you were on your back and he was above you again. “You are … no one has ever…” He couldn’t get the words out, but you understood what he was trying to say. “You are too good for me.” His voice was unsteady, but he kissed you in the pause before he spoke again, mouth gentle. “I do not deserve someone like you after what I -” He needs to stop this. 

“You do, Pero.” Reaching up, you took his face between his hands, forcing him to look at you. “You deserve good things. You deserve to be happy. And all of those people that treated you like shit don’t matter, because the way they were to you says more about them than it does about you. And I know this is entirely too fucking much for the first time with someone, but you need to hear it. If I have to keep reminding you that that’s the truth, I’ll do it every single time we’re together, if that’s what it takes.” 

He was stunned - you saw the surprise in his eyes … but to your relief, he didn’t contradict you. “If you say so.” He gave you a small smile. “Did I ruin it?”

“No.” Biting the inside of your lip, you cocked your head to the side. “You can go ahead and find out just how much you didn’t ruin it if you want.” He looked confused, but after a few moments seemed to understand, shifting back into position next to you and then dragging his hand down the length of your body. “You can touch me, Pero. I -” 

That was as far as you got before he did as you asked. Pero’s eyes went wide as he felt the dampness of the only piece of clothing you still wore, your back arching as you reacted to his touch. “You are … this is…” He looked down, chest heaving as he watched the movement. “Shit.” 

He touched you through the thin material first, two fingers gliding along the outline of you, and when you widened the spread of your legs to give him more room, he took the opportunity to add a third finger and some pressure, his attention still on his hand. But that’s fine, you rationalized as he swirled his fingers in a slow circle. I want him to watch. 

You reached down then, lifting your hips again to push the waistband down and over your thighs. Pero helped you out, tugging them further and exposing you to him for he first time. He slid his hand back up the inside of your thigh, and when he finally touched you, you moaned at the feeling, closing your eyes and pressing your head into the pillow. “Pero.” 

You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, but it did something to Pero, who dropped his head, lips latching onto your shoulder while his fingers kept moving. He parted you with two of them, using a third to circle slowly over and over in the space between. It felt incredible, Pero’s touch not at all what you’d expected, and when he widened the circle and extended his fingers down, you curled your toes and opened your eyes - one hand fisting the blankets beside you and the other clamping down against his bare back. 

He slid one finger into you and you rocked your hips forward, Pero replacing lips with teeth as you tilted your chin down, burying your nose in his hair. One finger became two, Pero thrusting them in and out of you slowly. He was slow and methodical, entirely focused on what he was doing - and you couldn’t get enough. 

Widening the spread of your legs even more, you rolled your hips to meet each thrust, mouth open as you took and released quick, shallow breaths. You didn’t even register that he’d released your skin from between his teeth until Pero’s head rose and he spoke your name. “I think you’re ready for me. I hope you’re ready for me, because -”

“Yes. I - ohhh.” He kept his eyes on you as his hand continued to move, and even though it was difficult, you didn’t close yours. You caught the smile he gave you as he watched your reaction, Pero’s lips quirking upward and his eyes darkening. “Need you, Pero.” Reaching down, you touched his wrist, pushing on it gently. “Please.” 

He removed his fingers slowly, and you hummed as they slipped free. “Give me a second.” He brought his hand up, eyeing how slick they were - and then before you had a chance to say anything, he popped them into his mouth, eyes closing at the taste of you. You gasped, but it didn’t cover up the sound of his deep, satisfied groan. Holy fuck, I wasn’t expecting that, I didn’t… 

He rolled away from you, fingers still in his mouth, and then you heard the bedside table drawer open. It’s happening. But Pero stood up suddenly, climbing out of the bed and then tossing a condom toward you. “What are -”

“What do you want?” He glanced down as he spoke, hands at his hips and beginning to push his underwear down. “No, that is the wrong question.” He looked back up, the smile back on his face, though that time, it was more of a smirk. “How do you want this?” 

“I…” You were torn between looking him in the eye and wanting to watch the final bits of his skin come into view. “Pero, I…” He laughed, the sound low, and then stepped out of his underwear, briefly bending over before he straightened up, giving you an unobstructed view at his entire body. Wow. Ok. You wanted to touch him - wanted to know what he felt like in your hand and sliding between your fingers. You wanted to taste him, too, the thought of weight of him against your tongue and the heat of him as he came consuming you. But that’s not happening tonight. 

Pero reached down with the same hand he’d touched you with to wrap his fingers around his length, which distracted you again. Damn him. “Well?” He stroked himself lazily, and you filed the motion away for later, paying attention to the way he held himself and where he squeezed just a little extra. His hands are so goddamn big. “I need to know how -”

“Whatever you’re used to?” You rested one hand on your abdomen, turning your cheek toward the pillow without breaking eye contact. “I want the opposite.” It was yet another risk to ask Pero to consciously choose a different position and approach to sex than he usually did, but you hoped that he understood why you were asking for it - and what you hoped it would signal. “Is that alright?” 

He was surprised by your request, but it didn’t keep him immobile for long, Pero putting one knee on the mattress and climbing back into bed. He reached for the foil square with his free hand and only let go of himself when he moved to open it. “It’s more than alright.” He looked down, and then resituated his hand at his base as he rolled the condom on, nodding his head. “It is a good reminder.” 

He crawled toward you then and leaned over, using the knuckles on one hand to stroke your cheek. “A reminder?” 

“Yes.” Pero stretched out beside you, rolling onto his side and facing you. “That this is not that.” He understands. Pero closed the distance between you, his hand on your side. When he kissed you, it wasn’t quite timid but there was a slight hesitation before he fully committed to it, his full lips slotted with yours before he parted them, urging you to do the same. It’s going to be OK, Pero.

As the kiss deepened, he used the hand on your side to guide your leg into place, positioning it so that your thigh rested atop his hip. You could feel him that way - pressing against you, each shallow flex of his hips increasing the contact. 

“Are you sure?” He spoke between kisses, his damp forehead pressed to yours. “That you want this? With me?” 

“I am.” You nodded, moving your hand from the back of his head to his shoulder. “Are you?” He didn’t speak, but Pero reached between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your center again as he lined himself up. You kept eye contact with him as he inched forward, and were unable to look away, even as he used a slow thrust to push inside of you. Finally. 

You nodded after a few seconds and then Pero rocked forward again, moving his hand to the back of your thigh to pull you closer. “I need a minute.” His voice was strained, and you could see that he was gritting his teeth. “If I move, I -” You kissed him then, interrupting his words and trying to keep your own hips from moving. It’s alright. 

He didn’t need to explain to you, because you understood. You were already tightly wound from the way he’d touched you, and thanks to the way he was holding you open, you knew that once he found a rhythm, you’d be able to come from the friction of your body against his alone. And if I finish quick, he will, too. 

Pero licked into your mouth, tongue dragging over the edges of your teeth, and when he moved his hips, you did, too, meeting his motion. As he picked up speed, the kiss turned sloppier and his grip on your thigh tightened. You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping it and tugging, mouth hanging open as you lost yourself in him. 

You stopped trying to kiss him back and instead turned your head so that you could pant into his ear, Pero’s cheek pressed against the pillow and each of his exhales hitting your throat. He kept hold of your thigh and lengthened his strokes, slowing down. What is he… 

When he rolled forward, pushing you onto your back, you went willingly, Pero angling his hips so that he could keep moving. But when he pulled all the way out of you you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair and against his shoulder. “Why did you stop?” You gasped the words out, eyes wide open as you stared up at him. “Pero, why did -”

“I did not stop.” He murmured the words, leaning down to kiss you again as he ran the hand on your thigh along your skin. “I paused so I could make us more comfortable.” After sitting up, he reached down with both hands and widened the spread of your legs so that he could kneel between them. You didn’t miss it when his gaze moved over the length of your body, or the way his jaw twitched at the sight of you, Pero’s fingers curling against your thighs. 

“You’re a fucking tease, Pero Tovar.” You covered your face with both hands. “And you know it.” He laughed, the sound low, and then you felt the mattress dip as he shifted, one of his hands releasing your leg. I want to see this. 

Propping yourself up on both elbows, you looked down and watched as he concentrated, eyes moving between himself and you as he re-aligned. Pero’s shoulders rose and fell as he took and released a deep breath… and then he was sliding into you again, the sight of his length disappearing into your body making your eyes close as you collapsed back onto the bed. 

He started with deep, slow thrusts as he leaned forward, hands moving to the blankets on either side of your body. By the time he’d stretched out enough that he could bend his elbows and rest his weight on them, those movements had quickened. He went deeper from that angle, each forward flex of his hips accompanied by a quiet grunt and met with a reflex thrust of your own. 

You flattened one foot on the bed and bent your knee, angling that leg outward while wrapping the other one around his hip again, your heel digging into the back of his calf and urging him even closer - which was next to impossible. As you closed your eyes, you raised both hands and dug your nails into his shoulders, not even trying to conceal the noises you made - and to your delight, Pero didn’t, either. 

You’d remember them forever - the way he grunted and groaned, a quiet snarl escaping his lips when you lifted your hips and met a particularly sudden thrust of his, which was followed by an equally devastating one, his head dropping so that the tip of his nose met the front of your shoulder. He kept it there for the next few minutes, his bedroom filled with the sounds both of you made, but when he spoke your name, pulling it from deep within himself, you forced your eyes open, watching as he raised his head and looked down at you. 

Pero didn’t falter in his movement, and you bit your lip at the way he gritted his teeth, nose wrinkling before he was able to speak again. “You feel incredible.” He swallowed, nodding as he continued. “Fucking perfect.” It was enough to make you shiver, and you knew he caught the motion when he actually smiled, Pero leaning down to kiss you on the mouth. “Will you come this way? Is -”

“Mmhmm.” You closed your eyes and gasped, back arching off of the bed when he swiveled his hips, the length of him buried inside you. “Oh, fuck, Pero.” He switched to shallow thrusts, giving you a chance to collect yourself. “Can you?” 

“Of course.” He licked his lips, nodding. “I am holding back, I -” 

“Don’t.” Don’t you dare. “I don’t want you to.” Moving one hand from his back to between your bodies, you nodded again, flexing your calf muscles. “Come, Pero. Let me feel you.” You dragged your hand over your skin and moved your fingers into place, making sure to graze his skin with the edges of your nails. He looked confused for a second, but when you went lower, spreading your fingers wide enough so that you could feel where he entered you, the look in his eyes changed to one of understanding. “Fuck me like you’ve waited three years to do it, Pero.”

He sped up again, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he slammed them shut and tilted his head back. You closed yours, too, sighing. It felt good, the length of him sliding between your fingers before you moved your hand into place, two fingers pressed against your skin and gliding in a slow circle. But before you could find your own rhythm, Pero slowed down again, a growl tearing from his throat. 

“No. Not like this. Not with you.” You opened your eyes, the motion of your hand stuttering - and it stopped when you saw the way he was looking at you. He’s never looked at … oh, shit. Pero’s brow was furrowed, his lips parted, and he was staring at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to look at again. “Let me watch you.” 

He sunk into you all the way and then paused, rotating his hips in a slow circle. It trapped your hand between the two of you, and Pero’s eyes were molten when he spoke again, voice low and full of need. 

“Let me feel you.” 

He drew his hips back, giving your hand the space it needed to begin moving again. You were hesitant. But when he nodded, arching a brow, you let out a long breath and did just that. 

Starting slow, you circled your fingers, dragging them through your slick and spreading it over your skin. You hummed at your own touch, letting your mind wander to Pero’s fingers earlier, and when he started to move again, gradually increasing his pace to match the motion of your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. “Pero, it won’t…” You hummed, adding pressure and a little speed. “It’s going to be quick, and -”

“Good.” He leaned down, mouth finding yours briefly. “We have waited too long.” 

You agreed, and that was all you needed to speed up more, touching yourself the way you usually did. Eyes opening again, you found that Pero was still watching you, though his were heavy lidded - evidence of his body’s response to yours. 

As the moments passed, you felt your own body’s response - a heat in your belly, the quickening of your heartbeat, muscles tensing as you got closer and closer to a moment that hours earlier, you hadn’t imagined was possible. “Pero, I -” 

He smiled at you, nodding, and when you let go of him to drop your hand to the mattress, he grabbed for it without missing a beat, linking your fingers together and bringing both of them up next to your head. His grip tightened with your gasp, Pero’s hips flexing forward at the same time you thrust yours upward, increasing the friction. 

It was enough. 

You came with a gasp, fingers stuttering as your muscles clenched around him, Pero’s motion continuing as your toes curled and you squeezed his hand. He mumbled two words - that’s it - and you watched as his smile grew, your own mouth hanging open as you pressed your head into the pillow. Oh my god. 

You cried out as a wave of pleasure coursed through you, the feel of him moving within you prolonging the moment - and then Pero was coming, too, one last sharp thrust burying him as deep as possible as he finished. You felt him as he filled the condom, Pero’s release coming in spurts as your body pulled him in deeper and sent a second wave through you, making you shudder beneath him. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, I… 

Your hand fell away from your body and Pero’s head dropped again, his breath ragged as he rested his forehead against your shoulder and more of his weight on you. 

Neither of you said anything for almost a minute, and to your surprise, it was Pero who opened his mouth first, head turning inward so that when he spoke, it was against the side of your neck. “I do not want to move.” He sighed and then kissed your skin, lips pressed to your pulse point. “Are you alright? You -” 

“Pero.” Unlinking your fingers, you reached up and dragged them through his hair, pulling the sweat-damp strands away from his face. “I’m more than alright.” He lifted his head to look at you, eyes wide. “And I don’t want to move either, but if we don’t, I’ll fall asleep right here, and that would be messy.” 

His lips twitched into a half smile and before you could say anything, he was kissing you, tongue dipping past your lips and into your mouth. I’ll never say no to this. He kissed you deeply, only breaking it when he needed to breathe… but the smile was still there and his eyes were bright - Pero obviously sated but still alert. “You’re right.” Without saying anything else, he reached down between you and then pulled out, rolling away and laying on his back beside you. 

You missed him immediately, and weren’t able to conceal your gasp at the way it felt to realize that, head turning to the side so that you could look at him. “Pero, I -”

“No.” Turning his head, he winked at you. “Not yet. We will talk when we are done.” 

Ten minutes later, you stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in one of his robes only to find the bedroom empty. 

Your pulse had settled and you felt calmer, though you were still reeling from what had happened between you. You hadn’t stopped smiling while you were in the bathroom - even as you washed your face and brushed your teeth again, the expression had stayed put. And it’ll be there for a long time, too. Because … that was everything I wanted. 

“Are you going to sleep in that?” He spoke from behind you, and when you turned toward the sound, you saw that he was holding two bottles of water, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe. “Because if you are, you are overdressed.” 

He’d only put on his underwear, and you didn’t even try to keep from staring at him greedily, taking in the sight of his almost naked body. “I didn’t plan on it.” You untied the belt and let it drop to the floor, the sides of the robe splitting apart to expose a strip of skin at the center of your body. “If that’s alright.” 

“It is preferred.” He moved closer, holding one of the bottles out to you. “I usually wear nothing to bed.” That was a piece of information you filed away, too, and after draining almost half of the bottle, you shrugged the robe down and over your shoulders before tossing it to the side and getting back into bed - though you climbed under the covers that time. 

He flipped the light switch off and then drank deeply from the bottle before setting it down and taking off his underwear. Even in the low light coming in through the slats in the window blinds, you could see him clearly, watching his outline before he climbed into bed and moved as close to you as he could get. “What were you going to say earlier?” He flattened his hand atop the pillow as he spoke, though he didn’t touch you. 

“I was going to say,” you started as you stroked the length of his bare arm, knuckles dragging along his skin. “That when you just … rolled away? It was … I missed …” Just say it. “It’s so stupid, Pero, but you were there and then you weren’t, and I realized that -”

“It is not stupid.” He moved his hand enough so that he could touch your face, his thumb sliding over your cheek. “I was … abrupt. I will work on that.” He inched closer, his cheek scraping across the pillow. “With you, hopefully.” He blinked slowly, and you felt as he held his breath, waiting for your response. Oh, Pero. 

“We might need a lot of practice.” Biting your lip, you also moved your head closer, though you didn’t break eye contact. “But I’m up for it.” A smile spread slowly across his face, Pero’s eyes widening slightly before he closed them, mouth finding yours in a brief - but tender - kiss. 

“Practice is the only way to improve.” Moving his hand from your face to your side, Pero curled his fingers over your hip. “I hope that tonight was what you wanted it to be.” Is he seriously questioning this? 

“It started out kind of rocky, but yeah, Pero. It was.” You paused, thinking. “It is.” It made your head spin to think about everything that had happened throughout the previous evening - and the weeks leading up to it. But it’s worth it. He’s worth it. “How do you feel about this?”

“About this or about you?” He narrowed his eyes, but then grinned. “Because the answer is the same for both: I feel good. This is what I want.” He kissed you again, nodding. “You are what I want.” 

His direct response caught you off guard. But as the kiss continued, his arm winding around you and pulling your body flush against his as you flattened your hand against his back, you understood that it shouldn’t have. If there was anything that you knew to be true about Pero, it was that when he spoke, the words had meaning. It takes him a lot to get there, though.

The kiss ended and as Pero settled back in against the pillow, he yawned, you not far behind. “It is late.” He sighed, moving his leg so that he could hook it over your calf. “We should sleep.” You agreed - you were exhausted, and the warmth and comfort of being in bed next to him was making you drowsy. 

Instead of replying, you tucked your chin and rested your forehead against his collarbone, closing your eyes. I could get used to this. He kissed the top of your head and you felt when he relaxed, the weight of his arm heavy where it laid against your body. I might already be used to this. 

You began to doze off, but were interrupted by the quiet utterance of your name, Pero’s fingers dancing over your lower back. “Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me tonight and making me listen to you.” 

“It wasn’t just me.” You didn’t move your head, speaking the words with your lips just above his skin. “Christina was -”

“She put us in there, but it was all you. You said what I needed to hear, and I know you would not have made so much of an effort if you did not mean it.” He kissed you again, that one lingering. “Please don’t stop doing that.” 

You assured him that you wouldn’t, but the steady beat of his heart was lulling you to sleep, and you didn’t even try to open your eyes. We’ll talk more later. 

The following afternoon, you pulled up in front of William and Lin’s, Pero’s fingers tightly laced with yours on the center console. 

He’d woken up before you - and woken you up with his hands and mouth, Pero trailing touches and kisses over every part of your body that he could reach without disturbing you. From there, you’d had each other again - once in the bed and then again after breakfast, Pero pulling pleasure from you with his fingers in the kitchen before leading you into back into his bedroom. 

You’d showered at his place and changed back into your clothes, which made the stop at your house short, leaving you plenty of time to get to your destination. You hadn’t talked much about what came next, or how you’d present yourselves to your friends. But the fact that they know I left with Pero and didn’t come to get my car was probably telling. 

“Pero, we need to talk about something before we go in.” Shifting in your seat, you squeezed his hand. “What will we tell them? They’re not stupid, but -”

“They are not.” He cocked his head to the side, gesturing at the house with his free hand. “But is it their business? We don’t… we don’t even know what this is, do we?” 

“I know what I’d like it to be.” Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath. “And what I think it could be, but … it’s only been one night, so maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just say that it’s not something we’re ready to talk about.”

“Then we are on the same page.” He leaned closer, lips curving upward as he smiled. “Maybe we should just wait and see if they ask, and then we decide how to respond.” The same page? Really? It shouldn’t have surprised you, especially with the way Pero had responded to your touch that morning and the previous night. It was obvious there was more to things than just physical attraction, that it hadn’t waned between you after the first time you’d been together. 

You wanted to kiss him in reply, but instead just nodded, giving him a return smile before pulling your hand free. “Want help carrying stuff in? I know you only have a couple presents, but I might as well make myself useful.” He laughed, nodding, and moments later, you were walking side by side up the driveway and toward the door. As the two of you paused on the front step, Pero reached for the doorbell while you froze, eyes on the space just above his head. Shit. Damn you, Lin. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned, and then tilted his head back, looking up, too. “Oh. Is that … what I think it is?” 

“Yes.” You chuckled, looking down and closing your eyes. “That definitely wasn’t there yesterday. I can’t believe she’d put mistletoe up after the diner. It -”

“She is clever.” Pero took a step forward, reaching out to touch your chin. “I should have known.” His gaze dropped to your lips, Pero’s expression thoughtful. “It is tradition.” Heart pounding, you parted your lips and closed the distance between you, your fingers tight around the handle of the gift bag you carried. It is. “And I did say it was not the mistletoe I was saying no to, just the timing.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Pero.” He laughed quietly but did as you asked, his lips warm against yours. You leaned into him, one hand flat against his chest, and your own heart beating wildly behind your ribcage. You meant to pull away quickly, but he didn’t let you - instead moving the hand at your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued to kiss you. He nipped at your lower lip, the bite of his teeth making you gasp. 

But Pero only laughed quietly and did it again before he deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing forward to meet yours and giving you a taste of the mouthwash he’d used at your place. 

“Well that worked out better than I thought it would.” With a jolt, you broke the kiss and whipped your head to the side, finding Lin and William standing in the open doorway, her phone held in her hands. Oh no. “Now I don’t have to ask how last night went.” 

She lowered the device and your attention moved to William, the man’s attempt to hold a laugh back not at all successful. “No, you don’t.” Pero cleared his throat and stepped closer to you, his arm winding around your waist. “And now we don’t have to figure out a way to tell you, either.” 

William laughed and Lin’s eyes widened as they stepped to the side to let you in. Say something. This isn’t what we just talked about. “Pero, I -”

He stopped you with a kiss to the temple as you crossed the threshold, his arm tightening. “This makes things much easier, I think.” 

He wasn’t wrong. William and Lin had seen - firsthand - what they needed to see in order to answer questions about what had happened between you the night before, and about whether or not things were resolved in regard to the contract. They’d still probably ask questions, which was fine. But maybe now they’ll do it in private. You knew you’d say much more just to Lin, and figured that Pero would be the same with William. 

After taking your coats and boots off, the four of you headed into the living room. You and Pero put your gifts beneath the tree with the others and then moved to sit on the couch while William and Lin chose an oversized chair, the woman curling up on his lap. 

Pero lowered himself onto the cushions first, and then, to your surprise, reached up to take your hand, fingers closing around yours before he pulled down on it. Oh. Is he… “Come here.” You sat next to him, leaving very little space between you. He released your hand as you got comfortable, draping his arm across your shoulders and urging you to lean against him. He is. He really… 

You couldn’t help yourself, closing your eyes as you leaned in further to kiss Pero’s stubbled cheek before whispering the words “I like this” into his ear. He hummed, fingers tightening on your shoulder. There was no containing your smile as you straightened up, moving your hand over to rest it on his thigh. I really like this. 

“So.” Lin cleared her throat and then spoke, her eyes bright as she looked between you. “Are we opening presents now, or after we eat?”

[norissisca]

“I wish to be with you in my final moments, my love”

PTII — TEASER

Satoru x Suguru x Non-Sorc!Reader

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT : fempov

content warning : gore, thoughts of cannibalism, death, angst, miscarriage, alcohol, mention of rape, horror themes, psychosis, suicide

a/n : I felt bad for making my snookums wait and with my recent problems with tumblr and then deleting my whole draft, I had to re-write it so here is the beginning teaser of ptII. I hope you guys can tell what the first bit of the fanfics are, hehe always love challenging people into little puzzles

PT I

August 10th, 2017, at around midnight,

Commence of investigation and assessment

Like usual he had to say something snarky, always having the last word to those elders. . . God, I should’ve killed them ages ago. But whatever. A smirked piqued as he spun around his heel and pulled up his blindfold, concealing his icy blue eyes, as if the thought of seeing those old ragged men seeing a flash of purple before they were wiped clean from the Earth gave him euphoria.

“Fucking hell. . . Seriously, it’s just a body that is unidentifiable, these second-grades keep getting more pathetic and pathetic as they go. Makes my white hair turn whi— no, no, no, black.”

He would whine and complain, swinging his hands around to express more dramatic key to how he’s currently feeling. He’d teleport himself to the site, stretching his lanky arms and his long legs took wide steps, shoving his hands in his pocket with a pout on his face. Striding past Ijichi as he began his usual “important” rambling, breaking down the suspicion of the attack and how the investigation will play out which as expected Satoru literally always ignore him and simply waved his hand as if he already knows everything.

“Soooo. . . Do you know who this person is or are we gonna play guess who with this body.”

Ijichi would adjust his glasses as he let out a soft sigh as he had to repeat himself yet again. Satoru nodding as he continued with the information.

“Gojo-san, if you heard me correctly, the body is completely mutilated to the point the body is unidentifiable, we don’t even know the sex of the person. . . At the moment all we are suspecting is that this curse must’ve eaten its way in or out of the lower stomach, we be—“

“Euughhh! Now thats just gross, I’ll give credit to the curse for trynna be a weirdo. Cause that’s just outright weird, but nothin that isn’t past my big leagues.”

“Right. Anyways, as I was stating, we believe this theory because although the body is completely disorientated we can tell it was from the lower stomach due to the massive hole in it that its the focal point of the attack.”

Satoru would abruptly stopped walking making Ijichi speed walking into a halt which merely made him skid to the pole in front of him. Satoru would tug one of his hand out of his pocket and lazily point to the alleyway with the corpse in it. Although they can’t see the body yet due to how deep it was into the alleyway, it was evidential that it was there because of the rotting stench kissing their noses and that made the both of them grimace (mostly Ijichi).

“If that’s so, has any of you dudes found the curse yet?”

“Uh, no. That’s why you’re here, the second grade won’t talk. He’s in a state of shock from seeing the body, so it was quite hard to ask if he’s seen the curse or not.”

“Welp! I’m only guessing you want me to ask?. . . Jesus, ‘state of shock’. This guy is obviously weak as hell, can’t even handle the sight of a body torn up!”

He would’ve grumble the insult underneath his breath, obviously he was currently pissed off as the investigation is being dragged out even more all because some second grade is being a pussy. Ijichi notice the aura change of Satoru, which made him a teeny bit scared of him.

Man, I wonder how my sweets is pulling up. Lowk kinda worried about her since the past few weeks, she’s been acting strange. . . Like real fuckin’ stran—

Until it struck him. The scent of nostalgia, it reminded him back in his school days. That smell coming from the alleyway where the body was located, it was no doubt. . . Suguru

[sentinelq]

Ticklish attitude adjustment

She warned him not to go through with it. You can't remodel your own home just like that, who knows what you'll destroy or collapse.

As usual, the advice went into one ear and left out the other. He had finally drilled an opening big enough for a small window from the house to the garage. He widened it forcefully, too lazy to take the long trip around.

Drill in hand, his arms upright, his upper body barely made it to the other side before getting stuck, his chest facing the ceiling. Panic made him drop the drill, thankfully without accident.

"See? You never listen to me, what if you had been alone? What if the drill fell on your arm or face?"

"Yeah, yeah, just go around and give it to me, I'll widen the hole and get out."

Having had enough of his attitude, always taking her for granted and knowing she'd always dampen his failures, she decided a punishment was in order. Several refusals to fully admit to his mistake, without excuses, later, she swiftly took off to give him the drill and be done with this mess.

"Oh you just know sooo much better, huh? That's why you're stuck like this?"

Seeing him in this state, somewhat crouched, arms and head clean through yet exposed from the armpits and below, gave her an idea.

The dragging sound of a heavy chair confused him. "Just making myself comfortable throughout this ordeal" she said. He felt the cold steel of scissors cut off his white shirt, hands undoing his belt buckle and lowering his pants. And everything that comes with them.

"What are you fu-"

"If you're not going to learn by yourself, I'll teach you what happens when you don't have a person to make up for your mistakes 24/7"

She grabbed two decorational goose feathers, long and stiff. Dragging them across his ribs, she asked "What do we say when we've made a mistake?" Caught off guard, sudden snorts and squeaks came out the sound echoing throughout the garage.

"No, I don't believe it's that. Try again." Twirling the feathers right inside his armpits, she broke the dam. Desperate, howling laughter filled both the garage and house. In her newfound excitement over this situation, she let the feathers continue to explore his defenceless underarms. Knowing he couldn't take it. Knowing he couldn't utter a single word, therefore giving her the "justification" to continue,

She enjoyed being in an authoritative position. It excited her, so much so after a very long seeming 10 minutes of tickle torture, she knew exactly how it'd go down.

He shouted in anger. His behavior was "corrected". No stops, no breaks, no bargaining. Just his body flailing, defenceless against the feathers sneaking underneath his pinned arms.

A smile slowly creeping upon her lips, she had the perfect idea. 2 minutes full of desperate pleas later, she had taped his legs together. Sitting in her chair, she grabbed a feather and brought it down from his armpits to his ribs, to his belly, to his hips... and lower. At first, she extracted laughter, soon followed by a realization that no amount of begging would change.

"If you're going to act like a testosterone fueled caveman, I'll treat you like the animal you are." His legs taped together, the feather's strokes inevitably revealed the rapidly growing bulge. Passing the feather up and down, she condescendingly proclaimed that she'd "get those hormones out" of him.

The laughter started. He couldn't hold it back, it grew and grew in intensity, along with his feathered cock. She was sitting in her chair, scrolling through random social media apps while dragging that stiff, soo stiff, yet so soft thing up and down his increasingly wet shaft.

As his masculine needs were being coo'd out of him, he couldn't help but surrender those needy sounds, mixing with the laughter and echoing across the garage.

His giggles and moaning had taken a more submissive turn. "Gooood boy." she complimented him. Her ruthless demeanor finally shown in the taming of her hormone fuelled slave, she would build him up until he could no longer take it, taunting him with emasculating baby talk ", who's my strong man? Yes, you are, so strooong. Coochie coochie coo, let it allll out" the elongation of words accompanied by the dragging of her instrument across his own.

The cruelty of her taunts, "Theeere you go baby, let it allll out" finalized in that she would ticklishly stroke his glans to the point where he'd almost explode, just to baby him down to precumming, then start the process all over again. Him screaming "PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEFUAHAHAPLEAHAHA" Only to be met with laughter and giving him no pressure, she merely carefully applied the feather's tip at just the right spots to soak his cock in his impotent pre-cum yet again. "Theeere you gooo, we're gonna leak all that testosterone out."

"So you can think better."

Who knows how long this went on. One thing is for certain. She enjoyed that long afternoon very much.

*Inspired by a gif from PolarbearNSFW

[laseracronym]

SFW Alphabet (Aizawa Shouta)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's pretty affectionate in his own ways, but it's more subtle in public. In public, he's not much for kisses and hugs, but he'll let you hug him. Mostly, he keeps close to you, drawing near enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, walking close enough that your hands or shoulders brush. He leans in close to you and speaks in soft tones just so that he can be in your space.

In private, he's very hands on, cuddly. He'll squeeze your hip as he walks by, put his arms around you from behind and push his face into your hair. He'll gently take your hands and ask about your day, he could spend hours listening to you, if only he had the time.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Very loyal and protective. Shouta is dedicated to the people he cares about, no matter if his feelings are romantic or platonic.

You'd probably get to know each other through hero work, as that takes up a large portion of his time, so you would either be a hero yourself, or involved in the industry in some way. I think you'd have to be a bit persistent in order to become close to him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's a big cuddler, especially if it's a prelude to a nap, he loves taking a nap with you. He likes holding you close and resting his head on your chest. You'd be his personal pillow.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Marriage never really crossed his mind, part of him doesn't think he's capable of settling down with a partner. He's used to being on his own, putting distance between himself and others. I think for the right person, he would find himself considering more (when he falls, he falls hard) and it would lead him to reevaluate his life and his priorities.

I think he's pretty good at cleaning. Clutter can accumulate, there's always worksheets and paperwork left out and he's not the best about tidying up when he's so tired, but since he's so minimalist with what he owns it's not egregious. If not tidy, he keeps things clean, what needs scrubbing is scrubbed, the washing is washed.

He can cook very very basic meals but he's mostly a takeout/microwave/jelly pack fiend.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'd do it in person, and be very blunt about it. He wouldn't try to be mean but he can be awkward with his feelings and he'd be pushing forward a stoic face to hide any of his own hurt feelings. Not the worst break up to experience, but not the gentlest either.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I think the concept of commitment to him is more the promise between two people than the ceremony itself. That said, marriage appeals to him from a practical standpoint. He doesn't want to have to go through hoops to be by your side in an emergency. As soon as he realizes in love with you, he'd want to get married for that reason alone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's very physically gentle with you, especially if you're not a hero yourself. He always worries he's too rough with you, even just holding you close, like he might squeeze you too tight.

Emotionally, he's very blunt, he doesn't sugarcoat things. He's never been one to soften the blow. He tries, though, but it's a work in progress. He's also very awkward when it comes to vocalizing his affection. He has surprisingly tender, poetic thoughts about you, but the thought of voicing them makes his tongue twist in his mouth and his hands sweat like he's a schoolboy all over again.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs in private, bringing you into his arms whenever he has the chance. His hugs are warm, tight, and prolonged. You can feel the tension seep out of his body the moment he has a hold of you. He'll press his face into your hair or your shoulder and breathe you in. He won't let go for at least a minute or two.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A long while after realizing he's in love. He can be awkward with his feelings, and putting his heart out for someone else to see in a way that's so upfront and vulnerable would be surprisingly intimidating to him. There's not a lot that scares him, but saying "I love you" that first time would be terrifying.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He can get a little jealous, but only if someone else is actively hitting on you. If that happens, then he comes up to loom behind you and gives the other person a look that says "back off" and it's pretty damn effective. If you bring it up to him afterward, he'll act like he has no idea what you're talking about.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are slow and tender, unhurried. It's like he's trying to savor the taste of you. He loves to press a kiss to your temple or the side of your head, letting his lips rest there as he soaks in your presence. He appreciates any kiss from you, of course, but he's especially fond of when you kiss his stubbled jaw.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's great with kids, though it perplexes him. He's always sure that they'd be scared of him, but kids have a way of sensing a good soul and they see it in him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's not always there with you when you wake up, unfortunately. He's late to bed, early to rise. When he does have the morning off, he's impossible to wake up, rumbling and grumbling through your attempts to rouse him like a bear in hibernation. He's also very stubborn about you leaving the bed, he'll lay himself partially on top of you to keep you in place, pulling the blankets tight around the two of you and pressing his face into your collar bone. You'll just have to resign yourself to your fate, not that you're complaining very much.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Shouta are usually spent inside. Usually you both are together in the living room, talking or watching a movie or just cuddling with each other. Sometimes, you go out with mutual friends if they manage to convince Shouta, but a quiet evening at home is more his speed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It's very slow, bits and pieces over time with the occasional long talk in bed (he's always more open in the dark of the bedroom). It takes him a while to even start to open up, even once he trusts you. He's just used to locking pieces of himself away, not poking at the things that hurt him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He doesn't get angry very often, especially with you unless you do something reckless that puts you in danger, but then that anger is a mask for his concern. More often than anger, he gets irritated and snappish when he's overstimulated. If you're ever threatened or seriously hurt, that might be when you see actual rage from him, but not towards you, obviously.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's very observant and remembers a lot of the little details about you. More than observant, he's genuinely interested in you, so it's easy for him to pay attention, to remember. It's through remembering these things that he finds another way to express his care, because his words often fall short (or at least he feels they do).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you held hands, that first contact, the first time he let you into his space and accepted your touch. He remembers how soft and small your hand was in his, the racing of his heart, the nerves that threatened to cut off his breath. He remembers the warmth that bloomed in his chest, the irrational, fuzzy, poetic thoughts that filled his head.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's very protective, maybe a little overprotective. If you're also a hero, he has your back in the field when he can, he keeps up to date on your activities and is willing to drop everything should you need backup. If you're not a hero, he'll make sure you have at least a little self-defense training for when you go out, he does everything he can to make sure villains don't find out about your connection to him, and when he's out with you, he's always at least a little on guard (another reason he prefers evenings at home)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's not one for planning dates or big romantic gestures, but he does pay attention to important events in your lives, especially if they're important to you. He's good about the little things, gifts and gestures and just making sure that he's contributing to your lives together. He remembers your favorite orders from restaurants and treats you like and runs a bath and gives you a massage when you've had a long day. He's very thoughtful.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's really bad about looking after himself. He puts everyone else before himself and doesn't know when to quit. You will be up worrying some nights.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't care about his looks, the only thing that's close to an exception is his facial hair. He likes having a bit of scruff and he hates the occasions where he has to shave it all off.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would. He didn't understand the concept until he fell for you, but suddenly he got it. You became an irreplaceable part of his very being, and it's as thrilling as it is terrifying to think about.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He truly, honestly doesn't care either way about having a wedding, but if you do have one, he will cry a little.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't want a partner that treats him too much like a "project". If a partner's too interested in changing core parts about him, then he's out.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He loves a good nap, he can sleep just about anywhere at any time. He can somehow tell when the chaos around him is something that needs his attention or not, seemingly choosing when he can sleep through it.

(Let me know if there are any other characters you'd like me to do this for! I might do the NSFW version as well :3c)

[gottencents]

010: nobody knows mental illness like a chanel bias

synopsis. SM Entertainment would’ve loved for FALLEN ANGELS and aespa to never share a stage — especially with Chanel possibly "corrupting" their prized “it girl,” Karina.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

Chanel arrived early again, parked a little ways down from Karina’s place to avoid looking overeager. As she waited, she scrolled through her phone, trying to calm her nerves. Her playlist was blasting, but even the comforting beats of her favorite songs couldn’t drown out the excitement buzzing through her veins.

When Karina walked out of her building, Chanel’s heart practically stopped. She looked effortless, wearing a soft lilac midi dress with sneakers, her hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. Chanel scrambled to get out of the car, nearly dropping her keys in the process.

“You clean up nice,” Karina said, smiling as she approached.

Chanel gestured vaguely at Karina. “I was just about to say the same thing, but you’re making me look underdressed.”

Karina laughed. “I like your style. It’s very ‘cool girl trying not to care but actually caring a lot.’”

“Wow, called out on the spot,” Chanel said, grinning.

They arrived at the cozy Italian restaurant Chanel had picked, and as soon as they sat down, the banter began.

“So, what’s your go-to pasta dish?” Karina asked, her elbow resting lightly on the table.

“Spaghetti,” Chanel said immediately. “But like, with meatballs the size of my fist. What about you?”

“Penne vodka,” Karina replied, glancing at the menu. “But I judge places by their garlic bread.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Chanel said, nodding seriously. “If the garlic bread doesn’t hit, it’s over.”

“Exactly.”

As the waiter brought out their drinks, Karina tilted her head. “So, when did you first realize you wanted to be an idol?”

Chanel took a sip of her water, thinking. “Honestly? When I was like, nine. I saw this performance on TV—it was ridiculous, like all the lights, the outfits, the energy. I thought, ‘I want to make people feel like this.’”

Karina smiled softly. “And now you do.”

Chanel blinked, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess. But what about you? You’re like, the blueprint for idols at this point.”

Karina laughed. “Hardly. But I think I knew around the same age. I always liked performing, but it wasn’t until I got into dance competitions that I thought, ‘Oh, this could be something more.’”

“You’re so good at it,” Chanel said earnestly. “Like, stupidly good. Watching you rehearse last week? Insane.”

“Don’t hype me up too much,” Karina teased, though her cheeks tinted pink.

After dinner, they decided to take a walk along a nearby park trail. The lights from the city reflected off the lake, casting shimmering patterns across the water.

“Okay, real question,” Chanel said, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. “Do you ever get nervous before performing?”

Karina glanced at her. “All the time. You don’t?”

Chanel snorted. “Girl, I feel like throwing up every time. But it’s like, once I’m out there, it just…fades.”

“Same,” Karina said. “It’s the adrenaline, I think. It takes over.”

“Yeah, and then you’re just vibing,” Chanel said with a laugh. “Unless you trip on stage, which I have. Twice.”

“Twice?” Karina echoed, laughing. “How?”

“The first time, it was my shoelaces. The second time…honestly, I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Karina said, shaking her head.

Chanel grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

“Did I stutter?” Karina replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Wow, okay,” Chanel said, pretending to fan herself. “I wasn’t ready for that.”

As they continued walking, the conversation turned more personal.

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?” Karina asked.

Chanel thought for a moment. “Travel more. Like, really travel. Not just for work.”

“Where to?”

“Everywhere,” Chanel said, spreading her arms dramatically. “Europe, South America, maybe even Antarctica. You?”

“Honestly? I want to try surfing,” Karina admitted.

“Surfing?” Chanel repeated, laughing. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Why? You don’t think I could do it?”

“Oh, I think you’d crush it. I just didn’t expect it.”

When they returned to Karina’s building, Chanel hesitated outside the door.

“So, this was fun,” Chanel said, scratching the back of her neck.

“It was,” Karina agreed, her voice soft.

“I, uh…I was thinking…” Chanel trailed off, suddenly nervous.

Karina tilted her head. “Thinking what?”

“That I really want to do this again,” Chanel said quickly, her words tumbling out.

Karina stepped closer, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“I try,” Chanel said, grinning despite herself.

Before she could overthink it, Karina leaned in and kissed her. It was gentle, sweet, and completely disarming. When they pulled apart, Chanel blinked rapidly.

“Did that…just happen?” she asked.

Karina laughed. “Yes, it did.”

“Cool, cool,” Chanel said, her voice higher than usual. “No big deal or anything.”

Karina smiled. “Goodnight, dork.”

“Goodnight, pretty,” Chanel replied, her cheeks hurting from how much she was smiling.

As she walked back to her car, Chanel couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in her mind, already counting down the days until their next date.

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A/N: texts made to all be incoming on purpose for u to know who talking better <333

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