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deathbxnny · 24 days ago

Note

Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlechinno genshin #genshin arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #x reader

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amethystarachnid · 29 days ago

Note

I have an idea for this Accidental Roommates AU (example: both character and reader book the same apartment and are now roommates), and I hope this makes sense to you! So, it's with Tony&fem!reader. They'll turn into a lovely couple after some time, and adopt a kitten/cat together? Tony Stark is the biggest cat dad in the world, and no one will convince me otherwise hehe.

Thank you! 🧡 (or you can ignore this)

ROOM FOR TWO - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ Summary: Finding out that the apartment you were supposed to live in is overbooked isn't the best way to start college, especially if your roommate it Tony Stark in all his arrogance. Will things between you two change when you have to co-parent a stray kitten?

ᯓ★ part II

ᯓ★ TW(s): pure fluff

ᯓ★ AU: Accidental roommates

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

A campus rental, small and cozy, isn’t what you pictured when you imagined your first college apartment. The place is narrow, the walls are beige, and the furniture is outdated—but it’s private. Or so you thought.

When you first walk in, your suitcase bumping against the doorframe, you’re ready to start unpacking, excited about this small taste of independence. But before you make it past the entryway, you hear footsteps and a muttered curse.

Then you see him. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at you like you’re the one who doesn’t belong here.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is sharp, confused, and a little annoyed. He’s got dark hair that’s messily falling into his eyes and he’s wearing a band T-shirt, ripped and faded like it’s been through too many wash cycles. His jeans are equally worn, fitting him a little too well, and he has this stance—relaxed but tense at the same time—that suggests he isn’t someone who’s often surprised. You know who he is, of course. He’s in your engineering class, always the one who asks questions so far above everyone’s heads that even the professor sometimes looks thrown.

“Um… I live here?” You don’t mean to make it sound like a question, but it kind of is. Because despite the paperwork in your bag and the email from the landlord, this feels wrong. Or at the very least, unexpected.

“No, you don’t,” he counters, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. “I do.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to stand a little straighter. “I signed the lease last month. I have emails and everything.”

“Yeah?” He pulls out his phone, scrolling with one hand before he flashes his screen toward you. “So did I.”

You squint, trying to make out the details through the faint glare. And then it hits you. Your landlord—the one who’d been juggling your papers at your first meeting, his glasses slipping down his nose as he talked in circles about tenant rights and late fees—must have double-booked the apartment.

Great.

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, this has to be some kind of clerical error. I’ll call the landlord and sort it out. This isn’t—” he gestures to you, almost like he’s waving you off, “—what I signed up for.”

“Hey,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “I didn’t sign up for this either. You think I wanted a roommate?”

“Considering I was promised a solo apartment? No.” He rolls his eyes, the look almost theatrical. But there’s something tired in it, something that tells you he’s just as put out as you are.

You cross your arms and look him over, not backing down. “Fine. Call him.”

He stares at you for a second, like he’s trying to figure out why you’re challenging him, before he pulls up his phone again. He dials, waits for a second, and then mutters a low curse when he’s sent to voicemail. “Of course,” he grumbles. “The guy’s probably out somewhere completely unreachable.”

“Figures,” you mutter back. “This is a disaster.”

Tony shoves his phone back into his pocket and leans against the counter, watching you with a resigned sort of amusement. “Well, I don’t have anywhere else to go. And unless you’re secretly a millionaire with a spare apartment lined up, I’m guessing you don’t either.”

The sarcasm in his voice makes you narrow your eyes. “I have a backup plan, thank you very much,” you lie, because you’d rather not give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s got the upper hand here. But he’s not buying it. The way he’s smirking tells you that much.

“Right,” he says, dragging out the word, “but if you’re planning on staying at this backup plan, you’d better let me know soon because I’d rather not waste time unpacking if I’ll be the only one here.”

You bite back an irritated response, taking a deep breath instead. “Look,” you start, forcing yourself to be diplomatic, “why don’t we just… figure this out later? The landlord will be available at some point, and we can get this sorted then.”

“Fine by me,” he replies with a careless shrug, but you notice his eyes linger on you a little longer than you expect. “So what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you reply shortly, unsure if you want to give him any more than that just yet.

“Tony,” he says. There’s something about the way he says it that feels almost like a challenge, like he’s waiting to see how you’ll respond.

But you just nod, trying to ignore the way he’s sizing you up, like he’s deciding whether you’re friend or foe. You’re here to study, to focus on your degree—not to get tangled up in whatever Tony Stark’s got going on.

“So, um…” You gesture around the apartment awkwardly, not really sure what to do next. “I guess we should… set some ground rules?”

“Sure.” He pushes off the counter and stands in the middle of the small kitchen, arms folded as he looks at you expectantly. “You start.”

“Alright,” you say, steeling yourself. “Number one: respect each other’s space.”

He nods, almost a bit too seriously. “Agreed. Number two: no loud music after ten.”

You arch a brow, half-smiling. “Already calling me a party animal?”

Tony shrugs, unbothered. “I’ve seen you in class. You don’t look like the type who needs extra chaos, that’s all.”

You’re not sure if it’s a compliment or a jab, but you let it slide. “Number three: split the cleaning. I’m not a maid, and I don’t plan on cleaning up after you.”

“Noted.” He holds up his hands in a mock defensive gesture. “I’m pretty tidy anyway.”

“Good.” You cross your arms, feeling slightly more in control of the situation now that you’re laying down some structure. “Number four: don’t touch my food.”

He smirks at that, leaning a little closer. “You think I want your ramen?”

“It’s very good ramen,” you retort, bristling a bit at the implication.

“Sure, sure,” he says, grinning now. “Anything else?”

“Not for now,” you say, though you know there are probably a dozen more things you could add. But you’ll figure those out as you go. For now, you just want to unpack and get this over with.

“Cool,” he says, nodding in agreement. He turns, heading toward the living area, which also serves as a shared bedroom thanks to a convertible couch and a twin bed crammed into one corner. “So, who gets the couch?”

You hesitate, looking between the couch and the twin bed. The bed is closer to the window, which would be nice, but the couch has more privacy since it’s further from the door. “Uh… maybe we take turns?”

Tony snorts, plopping himself down on the couch and stretching out, arms folded behind his head. “I’m good here,” he says with a smirk, like he’s already staked his claim.

Your irritation flares again, but you let it go, deciding that it’s not worth the fight. “Fine. I’ll take the bed.”

“Perfect.” He doesn’t even open his eyes, clearly satisfied with the arrangement.

You grab your suitcase and start unpacking your things into the small dresser on the far side of the room. Every now and then, you catch him watching you from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t say anything.

The silence stretches out, a little too heavy and a little too tense, until you can’t take it anymore.

“So,” you say, desperate for a distraction, “what’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering,” he replies without missing a beat. “What about you?”

“Engineering, too,” you say, feeling a bit relieved that you have something in common. But he just raises an eyebrow, like he’s not sure if he’s impressed or skeptical.

“Didn’t peg you as the type,” he says, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You laugh a little, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? And what’s ‘the type’?”

He shrugs. “Just… different. I dunno. You don’t seem like you’d be into all the math and circuits and long nights in the lab.”

“Shows what you know,” you say, surprised by your own defensiveness. But it’s true—engineering is your passion, even if people don’t always expect it from you.

Tony sits up a little, watching you with newfound interest. “Fair enough. Maybe you’ll surprise me.”

The way he says it, like he’s almost daring you to, makes you feel like you have something to prove. “Maybe I will.”

He grins, and you can’t help but smile back, despite yourself. There’s something about him that’s annoyingly charming, even if he’s a bit smug.

“So, guess we’re stuck together,” he says, stretching again and giving a mock yawn as he looks around the small space. “Might as well make the most of it, right?”

“Right,” you say, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach. It’s going to be a long semester.

The evening settles in, the sky outside darkening as you both settle into your corners of the small apartment. And even though it’s awkward and tense and neither of you is thrilled about the arrangement, there’s a strange sense of possibility in the air. As much as you hate to admit it, maybe being roommates with Tony Stark won’t be the worst thing in the world.

Or maybe it’ll be a disaster.

The first few weeks of living with Tony Stark are, in a word, chaotic.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that sharing a space with him means constantly navigating a fine line between friendly coexistence and utter frustration. He has this way of making himself at home in every corner of the apartment, like he’s somehow managed to expand into all the free space. You can’t go to the bathroom without finding his razor on the sink, his textbooks spread across the counter, or his laundry draped over a chair. And then there’s his music—always loud and mostly classic rock, blaring at all hours, completely ignoring your “no loud music after ten” rule.

One morning, as you walk bleary-eyed to the kitchen for coffee, you trip over a pile of Tony’s sneakers lying by the door.

“Tony!” you shout, cursing as you nearly spill your coffee. “Your shoes are everywhere. I can’t even walk in here without tripping.”

He pokes his head around the corner, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Relax, Y/N, it’s just a couple of shoes. Don’t get your circuits crossed.” He grins around the toothbrush, somehow managing to look amused and cocky at the same time.

You glare. “It’s not just the shoes. It’s the shoes, your textbooks, the dishes you leave in the sink—do you know what a dishwasher is?”

He raises an eyebrow, half-amused, half-unbothered. “Do you know what a chill pill is?”

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath, and try to focus on your coffee. He’s insufferable, really, and yet… somehow, every time he flashes that grin, you feel a flicker of something you can’t quite name. Not that it makes him any less irritating.

The semester picks up, and with it, so do the all-nighters. You’re both in the same engineering program, and you’re both competitive. When he’s hunched over his laptop at two in the morning, the screen casting his face in an eerie blue light, you find yourself in the same position, furiously scribbling equations, desperate to finish before he does. Occasionally, you catch him glancing over at you, eyebrow raised, like he’s silently challenging you to keep up. And you do.

One night, you’re both exhausted, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch after a particularly grueling set of lab assignments. You’re barely holding a pencil in your hand, too tired to even write another line. He’s in the same state, eyes half-closed, notebook resting against his chest.

“You’re not as bad at this as I thought you’d be,” he mumbles, half-asleep.

“Thanks,” you mutter back, too tired to argue or throw a sarcastic response his way. “You’re not that bad, either.”

He huffs, like he’s barely holding back a laugh. You don’t know why, but the sound actually makes you smile.

Tony’s bad habits still drive you crazy, though, especially when it comes to his tendency to hog the tiny bathroom you both share. One morning, after he’s been in there for over twenty minutes, you finally bang on the door.

“Tony, hurry up! I have class in half an hour!”

The door cracks open, and he peeks his head out, hair still dripping from his shower. “Calm down, I’m almost done.”

“Almost done? You’ve been in there forever!” you snap, crossing your arms.

He grins, completely unfazed. “If you’re so desperate, feel free to join me.”

You feel your face heat up, and before you can come up with a comeback, he winks and shuts the door again, leaving you fuming and red-faced in the hallway. That’s Tony, always pushing buttons just because he can.

Over time, though, things… change. Somewhere between the petty arguments and the grudging coexistence, you start to fall into a rhythm. You still bicker, but there’s an unspoken understanding now. You’ll swap the couch and the bed without making a fuss, automatically take turns in the kitchen, and sometimes, you’ll even study together.

You find out that Tony’s more than just the arrogant guy from class—he’s sharp, quick with a joke, and oddly attentive. Sometimes, you’ll wake up to find a fresh cup of coffee waiting for you, and he’ll wave it off, muttering something about it being “just convenient.” And in return, you start picking up his shoes without complaining, throwing his clothes into the hamper, and even bringing him snacks during your late-night study sessions.

It’s a Friday night, and for once, you’re not spending it at home or at the library. You’ve actually got a date—a rarity in your life—and you spent more time than you’d like to admit getting ready, carefully putting on makeup and smoothing down your dress.

Tony, of course, has been watching with that teasing glint in his eyes the entire time, slouched on the couch with his laptop, occasionally smirking like he knows something you don’t.

“You’re actually going out with this guy?” he asks, after you’ve checked your reflection for the fifth time.

“Yes, Tony, people do go on dates. You should try it sometime.”

He laughs, that casual, easy chuckle that you hate because it always manages to sound good. “I don’t need a date, Y/N. I get enough action as it is.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your purse. “Enjoy your action tonight, Stark. I’ll be back late.”

But as the evening wears on, your mood changes. You’re sitting at a café table, checking your watch for the third time. Your “date” was supposed to meet you half an hour ago, but there’s no sign of him. A growing feeling of embarrassment builds in your chest, and with each passing minute, it gets worse. You don’t want to be that girl who waits around for someone who clearly isn’t coming. With a sigh, you grab your bag and head home, hoping Tony won’t notice your early return.

When you open the door, though, Tony looks up from the couch, eyebrows raised. “That was… fast.”

You sigh, closing the door and leaning against it, trying not to let the disappointment show on your face. “He, um… he didn’t show up.”

Tony’s expression changes, softening a little. He puts his laptop aside and stands up, crossing the room to stand in front of you. For once, there’s no teasing in his eyes, no smirk. “Wait, he stood you up?”

You shrug, forcing a smile. “It’s not a big deal. I probably wasn’t his type, anyway.”

“Not his type?” Tony’s face hardens a little, his tone sharp. “Y/N, he’s an idiot. You’re amazing. He just missed out on something great.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t have to say that.”

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out almost instinctively to touch your shoulder. “I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because it’s true.” His gaze holds yours, steady and warm, and for the first time, you realize just how intense his eyes are.

There’s a moment of silence, heavy and charged, and you feel your pulse quicken. You’re standing close, closer than usual, and for once, there’s no witty comeback, no sarcastic remark from him. Just Tony, looking at you like he sees something in you that no one else does.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, swallowing against the sudden tightness in your throat. “I just… I guess I feel a little stupid, that’s all.”

Tony’s face softens, and to your surprise, he pulls you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re not stupid, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice a warm murmur against your hair. “Some guys are just idiots. Trust me—I know a lot of them.”

You laugh against his shoulder, feeling some of the hurt and embarrassment melt away. “Thanks, Tony.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders, his gaze searching yours. “Anytime. Seriously.”

For a moment, you just stand there, lost in his eyes, feeling something shift between you. He’s still Tony—annoying, messy, impossible—but there’s something else there now, something unspoken. And suddenly, the idea of him as just your roommate feels almost… disappointing.

He seems to feel it too, because he lets go and steps back, clearing his throat. “So, uh… if you want, we could watch a movie or something? My treat. I have some popcorn in the cupboard, and I promise not to talk through the entire thing.”

You smile, nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

And as you settle onto the couch together, for once in comfortable silence, you can’t help but feel like this night turned out better than you expected.

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. You don’t even plan on a second Friday movie night, but somehow, it just becomes part of the routine.

A week after your canceled date, you both end up crashing on the couch with a couple of cheap takeout containers, both too tired to think about cooking or studying. Tony puts on an old action flick, and you spend half the movie rolling your eyes at the ridiculous stunts, only to find him muttering a dramatic running commentary just to make you laugh. By the end of it, you’re not sure if the movie was any good, but you’re grinning, and you realize it’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks.

From then on, Friday movie nights are a thing.

Every Friday, no matter how hectic your schedules are, you and Tony put aside a couple of hours to flop down on the couch and watch something. The movies vary—from classic thrillers to cheesy rom-coms, and even the occasional animated film—but somehow, it always feels like the best part of your week. And, slowly, it becomes one of the best parts of living with Tony.

You look forward to the comfort of those quiet evenings, knowing that you can just curl up with a blanket and relax without any pressure or expectations. Tony usually picks the movie, claiming he has “refined taste,” and you mostly let him—except for the times when you insist on watching something with a little more plot and a little less gratuitous explosion.

One Friday Night

It’s late in the semester, and you’re running on fumes. Between exams, projects, and late-night study sessions, you’re barely getting four hours of sleep a night. You’re slouched against the arm of the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket, trying to keep your eyes open as Tony scrolls through the movie options.

He shoots you a look, one eyebrow raised. “You sure you’re up for this? You look about two seconds away from passing out.”

You wave him off, trying to suppress a yawn. “I’m fine. Just… pick something, preferably not too loud, and not too complicated.”

“Noted,” he says with a small smirk, settling on a lighthearted rom-com.

You start the movie together, but within minutes, your eyelids are drooping, the exhaustion from the week catching up with you. Tony glances over at you occasionally, eyes softening each time he catches you nodding off, but he doesn’t say anything. He just shifts slightly so you’re more comfortable, like he’s already expecting you to fall asleep.

And then, without really thinking about it, you let yourself sink against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you drift off. He freezes at first, his body going stiff as he looks down at you, eyes widening. But you’re already halfway to sleep, curled up with your blanket, completely unaware of how close you’ve moved.

Tony’s expression softens, and he settles back into the couch, letting his arm drape casually along the back, his body relaxing beneath your weight. He takes a deep breath, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He’s always liked having you close, but you’re usually too guarded, too quick to pull away if he even nudges a little closer during the movie. But right now, with you dozing off against him, he can’t help but feel a quiet kind of happiness.

When the credits roll, he’s still sitting there, one arm around your shoulders, careful not to move too much in case it wakes you. He’s not sure why it feels so right, holding you like this, feeling the warmth of your body against his, but he doesn’t want it to end. Not yet.

Eventually, you shift a little, mumbling something in your sleep, and he swallows, feeling his heart skip a beat. He’s never thought of himself as someone who’s into all that romantic stuff, but right now, he’s sure he wouldn’t mind just staying here like this for a little longer.

After that first time, the accidental cuddling becomes a regular part of Friday nights. Some weeks, you manage to stay awake for most of the movie, laughing and joking with him, but other times, especially when you’re exhausted, you inevitably end up leaning against him. And each time, Tony stays perfectly still, like he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, secretly relishing the feel of you snuggled against him, warm and close.

He never says a word about it, and you don’t notice, or at least, you don’t seem to. It’s a quiet, unspoken thing between you. And in a strange way, it brings you closer, turning those Friday nights into something special.

One Friday, as you’re drifting off, you mumble something into his shoulder. “Thanks, Tony… for putting up with me,” you say, voice thick with sleep.

He chuckles softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Anytime, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low. “You’re a lot easier to put up with than you think.”

And even though you’re already asleep, the faint smile on your lips tells him you know.

One rainy Tuesday, you’re buried in textbooks, barely aware of the time, when the door bursts open, and Tony steps in, drenched from head to toe. There’s water dripping from his hair, his hoodie soaked through, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the tiny, gray-furred creature cradled in his arms, mewling pitifully as it clings to his chest.

You gape at him. “Tony, what—?”

He grins, holding up the little kitten, who peers at you with wide, curious eyes. “Found her outside the library, all alone in the rain. Look at this face—she’s practically begging for a home.”

You blink, not entirely sure how to respond. “Tony, we can’t just… bring a stray home.”

“Why not?” He’s already taken off his jacket, now gently rubbing the kitten dry with the inside of his sleeve. “She clearly needed someone, and I figured, hey, we’ve got space. I already named her and everything.”

You fold your arms, fighting a smile. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is her name?”

He lifts the kitten up, gazing at her with an affectionate look you’ve never seen on his face before. “This is Dumpling,” he says, voice soft as he scratches under her tiny chin. “She looks like a dumpling, don’t you think?”

You burst out laughing, surprised at how fitting it is. The kitten has round, wide eyes and soft, fluffy gray fur that’s sticking up in odd directions. Despite your initial protests, you can already feel yourself softening.

“Alright, Dumpling,” you sigh, reaching out to stroke her tiny head as she lets out a delicate purr. “I guess you’re ours now.”

Tony grins, triumphant, and Dumpling stretches a little, her tiny body relaxing against his chest. And just like that, you have a cat.

Within days, Dumpling has taken over your lives—and, somehow, your relationship with Tony transforms right along with it. The two of you fall into an easy routine of “parenting,” like you’ve somehow become an unlikely team. Dumpling’s food bowl is filled, water is changed, and cat toys litter the living room floor, a mess that somehow makes the apartment feel homier.

You and Tony develop a sort of playful banter around it, too.

One morning, you catch him standing at the kitchen counter, holding a small spoonful of tuna over Dumpling’s head, his expression one of extreme concentration as he tries to get her to “high-five” for it. You snort as you walk into the kitchen.

“Really, Tony? We’re training her now?”

He turns, smirking. “Hey, she’s got potential. I think with a little more time, she might be able to help us with homework.”

You roll your eyes but secretly love the way he’s taken to Dumpling. “You’re just spoiling her,” you say, grabbing your coffee.

“Oh, and you’re not?” He raises an eyebrow, pointing to the fluffy cat bed you impulse-bought online last week. “I think someone’s getting a little too attached.”

“Okay, fair.” You shrug, and as if on cue, Dumpling saunters over to you, rubbing against your leg and purring. You bend down to pick her up, laughing as she curls up in your arms. “But I’m the responsible one. She’s clearly a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Dad’ now?” he teases, reaching over to scratch Dumpling behind the ears. She stretches into his hand, and he gives you a mock-stern look. “That makes you the mom, doesn’t it?”

You feel a slight flush at his words, but you roll your eyes, playing along. “Fine. But if she wakes up at three in the morning, ‘Dad’ is definitely taking that shift.”

He chuckles, and there’s a warmth to it, a little spark that seems to light up every time he glances at you.

As the weeks pass, Dumpling becomes an integral part of your Friday night ritual, usually curled up in your lap or wedged between the two of you as you watch movies. She has this adorable habit of pawing at Tony’s arm if he stops petting her, and though he pretends to be annoyed, you know he secretly loves it.

One night, Tony is stretched out on the couch, Dumpling sprawled lazily across his chest as he scratches her head. You’re curled up beside him, drowsy after a long week, watching a classic rom-com as the rain patters against the window. It’s cozy, peaceful, and you’re so comfortable that you can’t help but let your head rest against his shoulder. The weight of his arm, slung casually over the back of the couch, feels like it’s holding you there, like maybe he wants you just as close as you want to be.

Somewhere in the movie, Dumpling hops down and trots off to her bed, leaving just the two of you on the couch. You’re both quiet, the movie long forgotten as the rain falls softly outside.

When Tony shifts beside you, you feel him turn slightly, his gaze lingering. You look up at him, and for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, the space between you seeming smaller and smaller.

He clears his throat, almost like he’s about to break the silence, but instead, he just chuckles softly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You know, I think Dumpling was onto something.”

“Onto what?” you murmur, heart beating just a little faster.

He grins, that warm, gentle grin you’ve come to love. “She figured out she likes being close to you way faster than I did.”

Your breath catches, and you’re not sure if it’s the rain or the warmth in his voice, but something inside you pulls you toward him, drawn by the tenderness in his eyes, the way his fingers lightly brush your cheek. “Tony…”

He leans in, so close now you can feel his breath on your skin. “Yeah?”

You don’t answer, and he doesn’t wait, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s tender, unhurried, like he’s savoring the moment, and you melt into him, feeling the warmth of his hand gently cradling your face. All those unspoken moments, the teasing, the playful “parenting” of Dumpling, the late-night study sessions—all of it seems to click into place, like you were always meant to be here, like this.

When you finally pull back, your face flushes with warmth, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world.

“I didn’t know I needed that,” he says softly, a little breathless, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

You smile, your fingers finding his as you hold his hand. “Neither did I. Guess we can thank Dumpling.”

He laughs, that soft, happy sound that makes your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, our little matchmaker.”

From then on, the apartment feels different, warmer. Friday nights turn into something even sweeter, and Dumpling, your shared “little family member,” watches with a quiet approval, curling up beside you as you and Tony share the couch, hands intertwined, each of you finally knowing exactly where you belong.

Being with Tony as a couple is somehow both everything you expected and completely different. The teasing and playful dynamic remains, but there’s a new, unspoken warmth in everything you do together, a kind of quiet intimacy that’s hard to put into words.

You both quickly fall into a routine, but with small moments that make your heart race, the soft touches and lingering glances that remind you this is real now. Dumpling is still the center of attention in your little “family,” and her mischievous nature keeps you both on your toes.

It’s a lazy Tuesday morning, and you’re attempting to get ready for class. You’re putting on your makeup in the bathroom when Tony comes up behind you, arms slipping around your waist, chin propped on your shoulder as he gazes at your reflection in the mirror.

“You know, you look pretty cute in the mornings, even if you’re annoyed,” he murmurs, grinning as he watches your expression in the mirror. Dumpling is at your feet, playfully pawing at the hem of his jeans as he nuzzles against your shoulder.

“‘Annoyed’ is putting it lightly,” you say, though a smile slips through. “Dumpling decided to wake me up at 4 a.m. because someone decided it was a good idea to feed her a can of tuna last night.”

He shrugs, unrepentant. “She deserves the best. Besides, you look extra pretty when you’re slightly annoyed.” He presses a gentle kiss on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You roll your eyes but turn to face him, the playfulness in his eyes melting into something softer. He brushes a thumb over your cheek and then kisses you softly. You hear a soft meow at your feet, and Tony chuckles against your lips, pulling back only to scoop Dumpling up. “Alright, little one. Mom and Dad have classes to get to. Try not to destroy the place while we’re gone.”

Dumpling mews indignantly but seems satisfied when Tony scratches her head, her loud purr filling the bathroom.

Word about you and Tony spreads across campus faster than either of you expects. For a while, you just think you’re imagining the occasional stares, the murmurs when you and Tony sit together at lunch, his arm slung casually over the back of your chair as he chats with his friends. But soon enough, the stares turn into glares, particularly from some of the girls who used to linger around him before you two were official.

You overhear whispers in the library one afternoon as you’re studying. Two girls at a nearby table are staring over, murmuring to each other with pinched expressions.

“Can you believe he’s with her? Tony Stark?” one of them says, not-so-subtly looking you up and down.

The other girl huffs, rolling her eyes. “She must’ve done something to reel him in. I mean, he could do way better.”

Their words sting, but you pretend not to notice, focusing instead on your notes. Just then, Tony appears behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple, and plopping down in the seat next to you. The two girls exchange wide-eyed glances, their whispers silencing instantly. You try to brush it off, but Tony notices the tension in your shoulders.

“Don’t listen to them,” he says quietly, his hand finding yours beneath the table. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You look at him, and he gives you that soft, reassuring smile that makes everything else fade away. With him beside you, the whispers and stares don’t matter. You squeeze his hand, feeling a quiet pride at being the one he chose.

The Friday movie nights are still sacred, but now they have an even cozier feel. You and Tony snuggle up on the couch, Dumpling curled between you or lazily sprawled across your laps. The cat’s purring is a constant soundtrack, her favorite place being Tony’s lap, where she can knead her tiny paws against his hoodie.

One night, you’re nestled together, Dumpling snoozing away as the credits roll on an old thriller Tony insisted on watching. You turn to him, still feeling the thrill of the movie but comforted by his warmth beside you.

“I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?” you murmur, resting your head against his chest.

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “The best team. Even if Dumpling keeps trying to sabotage my snacks.” He’s referring to how Dumpling “steals” the popcorn from his lap whenever he’s not looking.

You smile, pulling his arm closer around you. “And if she’s got any competition for attention on campus, I think I know who her biggest fan is.”

He laughs, his arm tightening around you, his face lighting up. “Well, can you blame me? Between you and Dumpling, I’ve got everything I need.”

It’s a quiet Saturday morning, and you’re curled up in bed, still half-asleep, when you feel the mattress dip slightly. You open one eye to see Tony settling Dumpling gently beside you, her little head nestled into your pillow. He grins as you blink at him, half-confused and half-amused.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you. Dumpling lets out a tiny squeak between the two of you, as if demanding her own share of attention.

With Tony’s gentle kiss, the cozy weight of Dumpling snuggled next to you, and the soft light filtering through the window, you can’t remember ever feeling this content. It’s just a small moment, but it’s perfect, each day settling you further into this life you’re building together.

One night, you’re both lying in bed, Dumpling curled up at the foot, fast asleep. You’re wrapped in Tony’s arms, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your shoulder as you lie in comfortable silence, the room lit by the soft glow of the city outside.

Out of nowhere, Tony clears his throat, and you can feel his heartbeat quicken slightly. He takes a breath, then murmurs, “I love you.”

It’s so soft that you almost miss it, but your heart skips, warmth flooding through you. You look up, seeing the nervous but hopeful look in his eyes.

A smile spreads across your face as you reach up, touching his cheek. “I love you too, Tony,” you say, voice soft but steady.

His face breaks into a grin, and he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead as if sealing the words between you. Dumpling lets out a sleepy, annoyed noise, but you both laugh, neither of you moving.

if you liked the story don't forget to leave a like, a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more! <3

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

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Villainess au Side story: the villain in my heart feat: Vil genre: fluff, suggestive(?)

Note: follows the villain/ess series Vil ver. but can be read independently, no pronouns were used, villain/ess!reader is a simp (as I am), roughly 1.1k word count

I say I mostly just do SFW but why did this one feel a little uhhh… I genuinely had to pause a couple of times cuz I had to stop getting thirsty

“S-Sir Vil, you really needn’t do this”

“Hush now and keep still”

Since your recovery, you finally went back to your duties as part of the Schoenheit family, which includes healing the family’s image after your “incident”. You planned to accept invitations from other families to prove your return to health and you were happy to see that your dear friend Neige has sent an invitation to you like he usually do. But this time will be different.

“I will be accompanying you” Vil adamantly announced which surprised you knowing his absolute disdain for the young ravenette noble.

“You really don’t need to, Sir Vil. I’ve been to the LeBlanche manor before-”

“I’m going”

Honestly, Vil can’t tell if you’re too nonchalant about this or just plain oblivious to the situation. How can you believe that someone of such a high status such as yourself would not be subject to more scandalous rumors should you visit a man’s house alone, no matter how kind and innocent he may be. There is also a more selfish reason as the idea that his partner would choose to visit his rival so casually did not sit well with him, not that he will ever tell you.

Which is why you were fidgeting as Vil was seated close to you, carefully tying a detailed knot on your tie before he plans to pin a brooch that was from an expensive set, with your husband wearing its matching pair. Vil’s long fingers would occasionally brush against your neck as he soothes your collar leaving goosebumps from his touch which you were sure he could see with how close he was.

Was heaven supposed to be this hard to breathe?

“S-Sir Vil, I don’t want to rush you but we’ll be late” you barely spoke through your nerves but Vil kept on with the task he personally took on.

“Beauty is not to be rushed, I have taught you that” Vil replied, his eyes inspecting the brooch placed upon you before raising to lock his eyes on yours “Speaking of which, I need to teach you out of that bad habit of yours”

You felt cold sweat as you mentally combed through your recent memories for what the handsome man may have been referring to. Did Vil find out that you’ve been secretly asking for more desserts after dinner when he leaves? Or that you've skipped your beauty routine two days in a row in favor of napping longer? Perhaps he knows about the letters you’ve been exchanging with Rook to gush about Vil that’s been taking away your scheduled beauty sleep.

Vil watched the internal crisis in your head leak into your expression which leaves him to have an exasperated look on his own face. “I can’t imagine what must be going on in that mind right now but it’s probably incorrect. I’m talking about your manner of speaking”

Vil continued to surprise you today as you weren't expecting that comment. You supposed you spoke more casually with Rook and Neige (primarily as they’re your fan club buddies) but you were sure you kept your dignity with the nobles as to not disgrace the Schoenheit name.

“To be specific, I’m not satisfied with the way you address me” Vil clarified your confusion. “I’m not some noble but your husband. As such, calling me by a title such as Sir reflects badly on our relationship.”

“So, you’re telling me t-to-“

“Call me by my name” Vil cut to the chase. “I would rather you’d call me by a more affectionate name but this would suffice for now”

Vil’s nonchalance over the matter does not extend to you as your mind is processing what the man just requested from you like it wasn’t the most stressful order he has ever made to you. Being able to call the man you’ve idolized before and after you reincarnated so casually is akin to being given the chance to hold the most beautiful diamond in the world, a great but heavy honor to be bestowed upon.

Vil was silently waiting for you so you had no choice but to give your best attempt, which resulted in a soft utterance of his name with your eyes looking away. Your body burned in embarrassment as you feverishly ask your heart to calm down.

However, Vil was not merciful as he narrowed his lavender eyes in dissatisfaction. In a swift moment, he gripped your chin between his fingers in order to force your gaze to meet his.

“It’s rude to speak while looking away, I've taught you better” Vil sternly said but his finger lightly stroked your chin as though he was enticing you rather than reprimanding. “Try again, louder and clearer this time”

But you couldn't. Your mind was racing as you felt overwhelmed by the beautiful man before you. Loose strands of his soft locks fell from his braid and tickled your burning cheeks as his touch flooded your senses. You might just perish right then, a quick but happy end of your second life.

But Vil thought differently. He was typically a patient man but there was a subtle burn in his heart that called for his attention. A new desire he realized has been building the more he spends his days with you. It builds with every giddy smile you send his way, with every time he sees the sparkle in your eyes as you tell him about your day, with every waft of your perfume that he recommended you and has been wearing every day. This time, he craves for more than fleeting gazes and quick exchange of smiles. He commands you,

“Say my name”

“V-Vil!” You startled yourself as you immediately responded. Your voice obeyed without a second thought and that quick reply left you flustered over the secret glee you’re experiencing. It felt like opening Pandora’s box. Now that you have crossed the threshold so to speak, you suddenly crave to say it again and again with a smile on your face. Is this normal, you wonder?

Vil on the other hand, felt an odd wave of satisfaction hearing his name leave your lips without that pesky title. That subtle act of intimacy has momentarily sated that itch in his heart.

“That’s a good start. Well done” Vil praised your efforts as he slowly released his grip, sneakily brushing his fingers across your cheek to indulge in the heat of your cheeks. He pondered on this new teasing side of him that seems to appear around you but he’s not too worried about it, especially when you don’t seem to hate it.

A smirk graced his lips as Vil finally stood up from his seat, before making his way to the door. He paused and turned his head, unsurprised by your immobile figure and mind still processing the events mere seconds ago. His voice cut through your thoughts, breaking your daze.

“Let’s go. As you said, we’ll be late”

#this one got to me in a way #I need to step back #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst scenarios #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #villainess au

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eleven

summary: you receive bad news, but luca is there for you. and it seems like he's intent on continuing to be there for you.

warnings: angst, grief, death, vomiting, fluff, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (specifically 'how to mend a broken heart' - al green & 'love' - kendrick lamar; another very will poulter-coded choice)

a/n: pov: it's me warning you that there is in fact angst but trust, babes. trust. after the trauma of meeting donna b in season 2, i wanted to explore characters who had positive relationships with their mothers. so if you have not picked up on it yet, this story is also about mothers **cries because it's too damn sweet. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part ten | masterlist | part twelve

Astrid: Hey give me a call when you’re up.

I don’t want to worry you, but we need to talk.

Your fingers hurriedly move to open up the multiple missed notifications that you have from her, holding the phone up to your ear so that you can listen to her voicemail next.

“Hey… I know you’re probably still asleep right now,” you hear, her voice somber, as you listen to Astrid’s voicemail, left for you at three in the morning. “And I know that you’ve got your do not disturb on. But I really need to talk. Call me when you’re up.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races with fears over what this could be about, and as your eyes scroll through the other missed notifications, you see something that stops you in your tracks:

1 Missed Call from Joe

And it all suddenly feels real, a sense of dread fills your throat, and you can only imagine that it must be an emergency if both Astrid and Joe have called. Your mind races. It can’t be about Joe – if he called too, right?

The severity of the situation forces you to sit up straight as you steal a glance Luca’s way. You’re grateful that he’s such a heavy sleeper as you peel the covers back, tiptoeing out into the living room so that you don’t wake Luca. Your fingers shake as they hover over Astrid’s name, before tapping down on the screen so that you can give her a call back.

It only rings twice before Astrid answers, a tiredness in the way her voice sounds, as if she hasn’t slept all night.

“Hey, Astrid. What’s going on?” you ask, a panic that colors your voice as you wait for her reply.

The anticipation builds in every moment of silence she leaves between the two of you.

“It’s mum. Ehm…” she trails off, her voice breaking.

No.

It’s as if your worst nightmare is coming true – like no matter how many times you’ve rehearsed this scenario in your head, prepared for it, braced for it, nothing softens the blow of the words that Astrid utters.

“She’s gone. She passed. Early this morning,” Astrid finally says, a sob following. “We’re still at the hospital right now.”

As Astrid begins to cry, you let her, even though you feel like you can’t breathe. Through her tears, she tries her best to explain what happened and you can feel yourself going numb as you listen. You can barely process what she’s saying as the words wash over you, a deep pain building in your belly with each detail she shares: that mum hadn’t been feeling well late last night, that she had a fever of 104 F and that’s when they knew she had to be taken to the hospital, that she passed a few hours later.

It was sudden.

It was quick.

And now, Astrid’s whole world – your whole world, and Joe’s – has changed forever.

All you can do is attempt to breathe, to listen, and try your best not to drop your phone as your hands tremble.

You can feel it, a sickening feeling that wells up from your belly and into your throat as you croak out:

“Astrid, I’m so sorry.”

“After everything we’ve been through, all the rounds of chemo… I just can’t believe that overnight she’s gone,” Astrid whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “I just-, I thought we’d have more time.”

“I know. Me too,” you agree quietly.

It doesn’t feel real, and you wonder if you’re just in denial.

“I’m so sorry to call like this. But I thought you should know,” Astrid apologizes, clearing her throat as she continues. “‘M sure I ruined your high from the all-night shag-fest with the hot pastry chef, now didn’t I?”

You chuckle, in response to her attempt to lighten the mood.

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you called,” you reassure her, your voice soft.

“I’ve got to go. Joe and I are going to try to grab something to eat and ehm, try to get a hold of Lina. I’ll keep you posted on everything. On all the details, you know… about… anything we do,” Astrid informs you, trying her best to pull herself together.

“But I just wanted you to know and ehm, well, I know Joe called.”

“No, I-. Yeah,” you stammer through, at a loss for words. “I… I’ll give him a call. And thank you… for calling me. Thank you for telling me.”

Astrid nods solemnly, “She loved you like one of us.”

You swallow, as a stream of tears streak your cheeks

“Yeah I… I love – loved – her too.”

You clear your throat, unaware that your hands have begun to shake.

“And please keep me posted. I’d like to be there… at the funeral. If you think it’s appropriate.”

“‘Course,” Astrid agrees. “I love you. Call you later?”

“Please. And… yes,” you say, adding if it’s a promise:

“I love you too.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, it’s as if your body knows something you don’t – like your brain hasn’t quite processed the news, racing your body to intellectualize everything you’ve just heard, so your body has to take over instead. Your stomach flips, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to vomit. You sprint to your small apartment bathroom, throwing the toilet seat up with a clang as you begin to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, in an uncontrollable physical response.

The sound of you retching, coughing up the last of it, seems to wake up Luca. You brace yourself against the toilet, flushing it as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your body feels fragile and your mind races as you reach behind you for the towel that lays folded over your towel bar, clutching it towards you.

“My love, is everything alright?” you hear his voice, as Luca stirs, sitting up in bed.

The sound of his footsteps heading towards you fill your ears, and as they get closer and closer to you, Luca appears in the doorway, his eyes squinting from how jarring of a wakeup he’s just had. You look up at him, noticing the way his face has twisted itself into a look of concern, swallowing as you rack your brain, searching for a way to explain what just happened.

“Well, the good news is that I’m not pregnant,” is all that comes out, in sheer disbelief that you’ve chosen to make a joke at this moment. Luca only looks more concerned, more worried, more confused, so you shake your head this time, muttering an apology under your breath. “Uh… remember when I told you… my ex’s mom… she got really sick and we had to move to the UK because of it?”

“Yeah,” he answers, unsure of what this has to do with why you’re stuck to the bathroom floor.

“I-. Astrid, his sister, just called. She uh…” you trail off, because it feels like you can’t get the words out of your mouth – like if you say it out loud, it’d make it all the more real.

Your voice, this time much somber, croaks out the words, and you feel sick to your stomach again.

“She passed… last night,” you finally say again, a wave of nausea coming over you.

“Oh, my love,” Luca sighs empathetically, as his heart falls at the news. “I’m so sorry.”

But before he can say anything else, you’re folded over the toilet once more, caught up in a competition with your own body of which could be worse: dry heaving or vomiting. Instead of leaving, Luca takes a few steps towards you, sitting down next to you as he rubs soothing patterns across your back, as you work this out. What feels like forever, and simultaneously, barely a few seconds, your back is pressed against the wall as you try your best to get your heart rate back down.

The cold floor and the rigid wall that you’ve pressed your back against feels grounding, perhaps the only thing tethering you to this world. Luca sits with you quietly, but his presence can be felt in tonnes. It’s strong, steady, comforting, with care and love in every single touch and touch he sends your way.

After a few minutes of letting you stare at the wall blankly, Luca gets up, kneeling on his knees as he offers his hands to you.

“C’mon. Let’s get you some water and back into bed,” Luca suggests. “I’ll call Jesper and Mathilde. Let them know you’re not going in today.”

You nod, sliding both of your hands into his as he helps to your feet.

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

“How are you doing, babe?” Luca asks you, as you wake up from your nap.

You’re grateful that he called in today, after the news, and called in for you as well. After your phone call with Astrid, not to mention hurling the entire contents of your stomach (and then some) into the toilet this morning, you’d crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. It hadn’t been great sleep – more so an avoidance mechanism than anything else, you realize – as you begin to come to.

“Jesper was just here. Came by to drop off food,” Luca adds, as you move onto your side so that you can face him. “They’re worried about you.”

“I’m not hungry,” is all you manage to say.

He nods, “For later maybe.”

He pauses, before repeating his question from earlier.

“How are you doing? What can I do?

You think it over, only slightly upset with yourself for being annoyed at his question. Of course he’s only trying to be helpful, only trying to care for you through this horrible thing. But it’s not like there’s anything he can do to take your pain away either, which, it’s silly you know, is what bothers you so much about his ask.

But as you look over at the man who wants nothing more than to love you, and you know he’s only trying to be helpful in an unwinnable situation.

You muster up your best smile, because you want to reassure him that you’re sort of-kind-of-okay, and you’d rather try than be a jerk right now.

“Come back to bed?” you ask him, your voice lifting at the end of the question. “I think I just want you to hold me.”

“Sounds like something that could be arranged,” Luca replies with a smile on his face, in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little.

As you lay on your side, Luca curls up behind you, engulfing you in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. And you’re right. It does make you feel better – being held by him – and you’re glad that you chose not to push him away.

After a few beats, and a thick silence between the two of you, Luca finally speaks again.

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

Do you?

You debate with yourself whether or not you want to, because on one hand you feel weird about it – asking Luca to listen to you talk about how much you loved your ex husband’s mother – and on the other, you’re afraid.

Afraid it’ll hurt too much.

Afraid it may break you open.

Eventually, the part of you that leans towards saying ‘yes’ wins, as you answer with:

“Yeah. I think that might be helpful.”

Luca nods behind you, before nuzzling his nose into the space between your neck and your shoulders. He leaves soft kisses against your skin that have no intention of being anything but a comforting gesture.

“Astrid said something on the phone earlier. That she loved me like one of them,” you start, your voice caught in your throat as you say it.

“And she did. She embraced me as her own… like…” you trail off, chuckling as you recall your favorite memories of Aiko Kimura.

“She was beyond upset to learn that I didn’t grow up pleating dumplings around the table when I was a kid, which was… I think maybe the first thing we ever cooked together. She pulled out all the stops. Made a huge thing of it and made Joe, Astrid, and Lina join us so that I could get the real family experience.”

“And every time after that… she always wanted to teach me something new, something I could learn, carry with me,” you continue, the memories so fond and the feeling so bittersweet.

“She was all about… slowing down, using the senses, no-recipe kind of stuff. I think it’s where I got so much of my heart from. In my food.”

You’re really not sure how you’re keeping it together, but, you decide, you might as well lean into the sweetness for now.

“I should do a dish. For her. At the restaurant,” you declare, coming to the conclusion as the words leave your lips.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Luca agrees, leaving another soft kiss along your shoulder.

“To honor her. You know?” you add.

Luca only hums in response, his arms wrapped around your frame holding you tighter against his chest.

You wait a beat.

Then another, your thoughts, moving a mile a minute from being plunged into grief from this devastating loss.

“I’m nervous – about going to London,” you confess, softly. You like to ask, usually, if it’s okay – if Luca wants to hear about these kinds of things – but it feels virtually unavoidable.

“I haven’t been back since Joe and I divorced… since I moved here. But I think I should. For the funeral.”

“Do you think it’ll be soon?” Luca asks, as you turn your head to look at him, checking that this is a conversation he’s willing to have.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I’m waiting for Astrid to tell me. But Lina’s, their youngest sister, has been studying abroad – Singapore – so… I don’t know.”

“I’m just nervous… about it all, I guess. A lot’s changed. I’ve… changed.”

At this point you’re just thinking out loud, no longer able to contain the stream of consciousness that flows from with an ease that makes you anxious.

Of course, you’ve changed. You have a new life here. You’re a you that you’ve never been before, having shed the layers of your past self like a snake shedding its skin. The realization is striking, while your ambivalence to return to your previous home in your new form feels more and more significant.

It’s Luca’s turn to be quiet as he thinks over whether or not the idea in his head is appropriate to suggest, figuring, the worst thing you can do is say ‘no.’

“I could go with you,” he offers, quiet, yet sure.

Oh.

“But if you don’t feel like it would be right… under the circumstances…” Luca continues, in fear of making things more complicated for you.

“No I-. What do you-, like… in what capacity?” you interject, hesitant about the question that you’re bringing up.

You’re not sure why it’s taken this long for either of you to articulate it, especially since you’ve already called him your boyfriend to your friends, to your mom, but the naming, the voicing of the sacred label is still something you haven’t done.

You don’t want to overcomplicate things, considering it already feels complicated, so what you’re really asking him is:

How would I introduce you?

“I was thinking… as your boyfriend,” Luca answers, slowly. “But if you think it’s too much – introducing me during this-.”

“No, I. Yes! I want to,” you’re quick to reply, reassuring him that you’re still all in, even in the midst of this loss – especially in the midst of this loss. You wiggle your body so that you’re now facing him, your chests pressed together, and you wonder if he can feel yours pounding away.

“Yes. I want you to come. I… I want to introduce you to them… to everyone, as my boyfriend.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Luca leans in to press a short kiss to your lips before nodding in agreement: “Okay.”

You wait a beat, almost as if you think he’ll take it back, considering the circumstances. Only, he doesn’t, so you have to ask.

“You would really do that?”

“Yeah,” he replies, simply.

“I mean.. It’s just going to be a lot. It’s… a fucking funeral,” you continue to list, giving him every ‘out’ that you can possibly think of. “And you’d have to meet Joe. Which I can only imagine will be incredibly uncomfortable considering the circumstances and I’m not even sure what to expect because Joe and I have barely talked in months and I-.”

You know you’re rambling, but you can’t help yourself.

“Luca, I don’t know if I can ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to, my love. I offered,” he says, as one of his hands cradles your head, his eyes on yours.

“Plus, I don’t have to be with you the whole time. I know it’s going to be a tough trip for a lot of reasons. I could give you some space while we’re there too, so you don’t feel you have to entertain me. I’ll go see my mum, catch up with a friend….”

His reassurance seems to quell your nerves and you’re no longer panicking (as much) about introducing your people to your new boyfriend while grieving the loss of their matriarch. But you want him there. You so want him there. You want his support, and when he’s so willingly offering it to you, volunteering to enter the lion’s den with you, how can you say ‘no?’

“Why are you so good to me?” is all that comes out of your mouth.

“Because I-,” Luca begins, pausing as he carefully chooses his next few words. You watch as he debates with himself, his decision clear when he opens his mouth again to say:

“Because you deserve it, babe.”

It’s then and there that you wonder what he was going to say before, half expecting him to say, ‘because I love you.’

But he doesn’t, and in some ways, you’re glad that whatever internal decision he made, that it wasn’t that. It’s not that you don’t want him to, because you’ve been feeling it too. It’s in every pause before you hang up the phone with him. It’s in the moments that you say your goodbyes for the morning or the evening that you watch the impulse, though fleeting, flash through his eyes. It’s in the way that you feel it so deeply in your bones that it makes you ache in the best kinds of ways.

You don’t want your first ‘I love you’ to be tainted with the grief and sadness surrounding this moment, but it’s been on your mind ever since your trip to Skagen. You think maybe you dreamed it, hearing him call you the love of his life, but whether or not it was real, those three words have hung heavily between the two of you ever since.

“Thank you,” is all you say, before you repeat it again.

“Thank you.”

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

Everything feels off. You can’t cry.

And you’ve tried.

But ever since Luca left to run an errand, to run to the store, you’ve felt off-kilter.

Perhaps it’s because you’ve had him to distract you this whole time.

Perhaps it’s because you’re trying to be strong for everyone: for Astrid, for Lina, who you’ve been texting with all day – trying to coordinate a time to FaceTime – for yourself.

Perhaps it’s because you haven’t called Joe yet.

But, you’ve decided, you really need to cry.

You pick up the phone, knowing exactly what you need to do, knowing exactly who you can let yourself completely fall apart with.

The phone rings a few times before the person on the other line picks up, and as soon as you hear the silence on the other line, waiting for you to speak first since you called first.

“Mom?”

And she can hear it in your voice as it breaks, concern and worry filling her every word and she asks:

“Oh sweetie. What happened?”

And finally, you can let go.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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sepublic · 13 days ago

Text

According to some FtF storyboards that were cut (presumably for time), Manny met Camila twenty years prior to the start of the series; And since the show takes place in 2022, this would’ve been during 2002. And since Luz is 14, this means Camila and Manny knew one another for six years, and at some point married during that time before eventually having Luz.

Season 1B had an episode that was scrapped called Homesick, which would’ve had Luz discover a Healing Glyph and also reflect on her parents; At this point in production, Camila was a nurse before that got retconned, but it was revealed that Manny was an ambulance driver. The FtF storyboards are much more recent and borderline canon, so we can surmise Manny and Camila did meet at a Cosmic Frontier convention, and their workplaces didn’t happen to intersect.

But if we still want to retain this detail on Manny, you can guess why Camila resonated with him and vice-versa, as people who both had a very compassionate spirit. Manny especially as someone who builds people up.

And there’s a dark irony in Manny always bringing people to hospitals, because he would be quite familiar with those who are on the verge of death, who might be skirting close to it, maybe even people who did die on the way… So he was always aware of mortality and he’d have to consider his own. And so after all this time, he would be the one being brought to a hospital, different ones, it’s why they chose Gravesfield specifically. His life and death, defined by hospitals; His peak and decline, defined by hospitals. How does Luz feel about such buildings now?

Manny would’ve empathized a lot with those in charge, but did he ever imagine he would empathize like this? Sometimes I think of the little fan theory that the Abomaton alarm genuinely triggered Luz because it reminded her of an ambulance that took her father to the hospital during a sudden medical emergency. These alarms are never pleasant anyway, nor is their context, but on some level it must hurt for something tied to her father and how he helped people to just be a reminder of how he couldn’t be helped. The hospital was once associated with her father’s heroics, but now…

On a brighter note, you could say that after helping people, Manny gets helped in return; But in the end it wasn’t enough. Or it did help, because it still got him some extra time with his family, enough to figure something out for his daughter that would keep her alive. Looking at the parallels to his daughter that he consciously taught, I wonder if Manny also wanted to be a hero; Luz’s obsession came from the book specifically, because it came from her dad.

Was Manny drawn to the medical industry to also help people? If so, he actually understood what people needed, which was more healers who could build people up. He didn’t become a cop or anything. And such a mundane and unglamorous way of life is better for the world; Because I think of how Luz wanted to be a hero, but aside from one gag with the Gildersnake, her focus has always been on helping people and not destroying her enemies.

You can see this in the good Luz has done, which comes more from helping others, some of whom were her enemies, than destroying or taking down people; The final enemy she can’t really help, Luz doesn’t even destroy herself, nor directly at least. And I think that hearkens a lot to what her father and mother do, and I wonder if that’s a specific ideal Manny had. Azura, as Luz describes it, is someone who befriends people and even enemies.

So I wonder if Manny actually read though the book, if he thought consciously what his final message was because it’s not just the act of giving the book itself, its what the book says, it’s how he’s choosing to impart his final beliefs by choosing something he thinks reflects them.

He’s not afraid of weird looks, it’s already acceptable for an adult like Mildred Featherwhyle to write this and consider her messages anyhow, so yeah he’ll read it in his hospital bed and place this under a critical lens. If anyone looks at him funny, Manny will snap at them unapologetically, Hey I’m dying, lemme have this! He wouldn’t need death as an excuse, mind you.

So Manny is an ‘author’ in a way, creating a message for his daughter, the other hidden author to Luz’s favorite fantasy. And Luz is the author of her own fantasy. Manny’s already a massive nerd, it’s what led him to Camila, to Luz, of course he’ll give that to her; It’s what leads Luz to Amity.

#The Owl House #Manny Noceda

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tojisun · 11 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/739286806700376064/as-a-strange-little-dude-who-collects-bones-im or hear me out…Soap with a little true crime/ conspiracy theory gf! He’d totally get behind the deep dives trying to find the truth!

AHHHHHH YEA I SEE IT I SEE THE VISION!!

shes a goth girl into true crimes/conspiracies!! (esp after how he and bimbo!reader have this conspiracy talk sesh happening?? he’s definitely falling for a true crime/conspiracy theory gf!!)

giggling imagining johnny and his gf (you) hiding from each other their… interest (borderline obsession tbh) because they’re both afraid of being judged. so you know, they’d watch these movies that kinda deal with conspiracies or the main character is being targeted by a serial killer and they’re vibrating on their seats, both holding back from exploding in jittered excitement because they wanna be the chill partner, ykyk?

well, one day, johnny forgot to wheel away his whiteboard of conspiracies (currently, he’s trying to prove that pigeons are govt spies) and you come home to see this board with detailed analyses and accounts; dates are underlined with a red marker, while a blue marker was used to write the names of people who have been “silenced” after “exposing” the “truth” about pigeons. it’s lacking a red string that connects one case to another, but that’s only because johnny was using washytape — the designs are, ironically, birds.

johnny’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when he remembers what he forgot; he skids to the living room, hoping to salvage a piece of his dignity, only to see you standing in front of the board, your mouth agape.

“i can explain,” he starts, cringing to himself at hearing just how more suspicious that sounded. “i-”

“oh my god, jock,” you say, breathless in your own excitement. “oh. my. god. jock!”

“what?” johnny asks, confusion now triumphing over his mortification because if you’re still using his nickname, then that must mean things are okay, right?

“wait here!” you scream before turning to run to your room. you flung your bag to the carpet where it sags like a sad potato sack. johnny picks it up and hides it in the closet.

he waits like promised, fiddling with his thumbs while shooting looks between where you’ve ran off to and the board. he rereads some anecdotes, his mind running on overdrive, before snapping his head up at hearing the sound of your feet padding back towards him.

you have about three leather-bound notebooks clutched in your embrace, two of which look worn, while the other it still quite crisp. his nose wrinkles in confusion but johnny decides to wait it out, trusting you to take over.

you fall to the carpet, crowding the coffee table, before urging him to sit beside you. johnny does, his legs knocking against each other as he crouches down and shuffles to move closer to you. he watches as you lay out your notebooks, hands gentle as you begin to flip through the pages.

johnny still feels so lost as to what’s going on.

“mo luaidh?” he asks.

you hum in question, still focused on finding a specific page, he guesses.

“what’re you lookin’ for?”

“oh, just- ah! here!” then you’re thrusting your notebook to him.

johnny takes it with care, his eyes flitting through the pages — “to what end is it satirical? what if, amidst the jokes, the government began to use it in actuality? what if they began to capitalize on it? what if we had given them an excuse to hide behind? had we served them a cover on a silver platter? how do we trust that they’re not conniving enough to truly take advantage of this? ‘birds aren’t real’ but to what extent?”

“what-” johnny’s voice peters. “holy shit?”

he whirls to look up at you. “is this-”

“yes!” you say, giggling. “i thought it was just me!”

johnny drops your notebook back on the table to pluck you from where you sat and plop you on his lap. you laugh when he begins to pepper kisses across your face, exaggerated smooching-noises ringing between you two.

(his office gains another whiteboard.)

—

i went fuckin bonkers again aeojdajef forgive me!!!

ikik the pigeon conspiracy is mostly a parody atp but its just. funny hehaeejr

#live-love-be-unique #ask #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #weird gf!reader #suns

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sanemisstalker · 1 year ago

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!spoiler!

hey, I saw your requests are open, so here we go...

imagine rengoku and y/n had a 'friends with benefit' relationship before he passed away, but then he comes back 2 years after his 'dead'.

as half demon.

he's sitting in front of your bedroom window one night and you can't believe your eyes...

he tells you how much he missed you and that his love for you grew stronger every day (soft human ren) but when he smelled that you let giyuu touch your body... oh dear

he shows y/n who she belongs to..(rough demon ren) his other half taking over and fucks y/n so hard and good to make it clear that she belongs to him. only him.

👉👈 hf <3

You deserve the most INSANE head for this concept oh ym fucking god. Oh my fucking g o d. I went delusional when I saw this last night.

CW/ Fem reader, AFAB genitalia, Breasted /Rengoku briefly mentions Suicide/ SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA......../ Giyu's life is on a clock/ Possessiveness/ BDSM Dynamics (mutual ownership)

-I can imagine how the news would've stricken you in specific. How muted it must have been. Day in and day out of hearing the cries of people much closer to the flame pillar than you could ever hope to be.

-You weren't his brother, you weren't his father- You weren't any of the young men that watched him pass- That had to stare at his, apparently, mangled corpse for hours, awaiting help in the uncomfortably hot air he left in his death.

-Hell, you weren't even a hashira yet. You just... knew the guy a little too intimately. Just enough for it to hurt more than you felt you deserved.

-It's not like he was going to marry you, or even ask for a partnership. They hadn't found a ring on his body in some grand last appeal-

-He wasn't even thinking about coming back for you-

-and it had felt that way for a while, now. You weren't counting the days, but you knew his birthday had passed twice. You hadn't quite remembered yours, but his had come and gone.

-Rengoku always remembered those kinds of details though. He was pretty big on the little things, so much so that he considered no thing too little.

-When the ex-water hashira had dropped off a small gift, courtesy of himself, you were partially confused. You hadn't known Giyu inherently well, nor did you think he paid you any mind.

-'I've been looking for your home for a while.' He'd hand you the gift. 'It was... hard to find.'

-'What is this for?'

-'Your birthday.'

-'It's my birthday?' The question came out more pathic than you'd hoped.

-'I- this may seem invasive... but... before his death, Rengoku had mentioned the date to me in passing. I had to ask around to see what was so important about it.'

-'He mentioned my birthday?' God, you were just full of pathetic questions, it seemed.

-'The... anniversary was just last week...' He was clearly stumbling.

-'I- maybe it's because my years are... numbered... but I- I wanted to put forward his kindness. I was too in my own head to do so while he was alive. Please open it before I say anything else.'

-It was a button. The top one of the demon slayer uniform.

-'I don't want to make any... assumptions about you and Rengoku, but I know, at the bare minimum, he was fond of you. I think he would've wanted you to have something of his... He left most of his clothes to his younge-'

-He'd begin apologizing profusely when you'd start sobbing. You'd collapse into his arms, clutching the box to your sternum and just wailing- A wail you hadn't known Kyojuro would even think you'd be worthy of.

-But Giyu thought you were worthy of it, and Giyu was the only one here right now. You cried in his arms for what felt like hours. You couldn't remember the last time you'd let somebody hold you- let a lone a man.

-His smell was cathartic. Like rain.

-His kiss meant nothing. Neither did the tear filled sex. Giyu was a dying man who'd done an inexplicable kindness. You got to pretend he was there, Giyu got to experience a warmth he'd never been rewarded for throwing a life away.

-You did not want Giyu to stay over in your bed, and thanked that button on your nightstand for his absence when you awoke in the dead of night.

-but Kyojuro remembers the little things.

-And you remember those loud eyes. They were perched at your window seal.

-You blinked once, twice-

-and then his face started to form in the darkness, and you were sure Giyu must have brought some ailment with him, because no. Not your Kyojuro, it must've been a delusion. Or maybe the original wasn't really dead-

-The way he said your name was undeniable. Past the buzz of the cicadas, and the huff of the wind.

-'Y/N.' The man said.

-'K-Kyojuro?'

-'Y/N!' There was palpable glee in the air, radiating from the man that claimed to be Kyojuro Rengoku.

-'W-who are you?' You'd croak.

-'...I'm Rengoku Kyojuro?' He'd respond softly. 'It is dark in here, I suppose. I'd meet you in the daylight if I could. I'm... not able, though.'

-How love stricken you must've been. At the mere chance that it was even partially him, you were bounding into his arms. You ignored the clear horns on his head, and bizarre markings along his neck. The undeniable smell of fear wafting from him-

-It was him. You knew even God or the devil himself couldn't recreate his warmth.

-It would take everything to remind Rengoku of his enhanced strength. The feeling of your body in his arms was heavenly- He'd only felt this elated maybe once before, in his mother's arms.

-'I missed you so much. Y/N, you will... Oh no, you're crying. You can't, or I'll cry too.' But he's already crying, afraid of his new found strength, and far too happy to see your face in the moonlight. Even if it's full of tears.

-'Sweet, and beautiful. You're just as striking as when I left. You look so tired... you've slept, right? Please don't tell me you've laid awake for me?' His heart ached at your nod.

-'I-I didn't deserve-'

-'Shshsh-' His hands would run through your hair. It was the first time in so long you'd felt the weight of your body- how slow you moved. 'I should never keep you so restless- come, sleep- sleep-'

-As the high of the night wore down, and Rengoku lulled you to bed with 'I love You's and the like, he felt at peace-

-But the smell of rain on such a dry night was aggravating his nose. He'd know that smell anywhere.

-Rengoku had formed a rather unfortunate temper since his supposed death. Not that he wasn't the same, fiery man at his core, calm, booming voice and all, but something he had never struggled with was the trade marked Rengoku male hot-headedness. (He'd always found his fathers decline in pride more than a little unsightly.)

-And he now struggled with it. Kyojuro had spent the last two years burning every unprompted shred of anger away so he could stand before you now as the same emotionally intact and strong man he'd died as.

-The one he hoped you loved.

-He'd sooner take his own life than take something out on you-

-but that smell.

-When you woke up, he questioned you as gently as he could.

-'Why do you smell like... water?'

-Your admission wouldn't be easy, but you couldn't lie to the man. You'd begin crying again, begging for forgiveness. He'd pull away to look at you with pity.

-'No, no- I'm the one that left you alone for so long. Don't apologize for my faults-' His hands would begin a slow decline down your body, tugging you closer by your ass. Your face would land squarely against his bare chest...

-And his hands- those big, all encompassing hands would move up your spine, to the nape of your neck.

-'Y/N, I'd like to address the elephant in the room.' He'd mumble against your temple as his hands wandered along your frame.

-'You're... You're not entirely human. I understand that.'

-'I... am not entirely right, anymore, Y/N. I want to warn you of that...'

-'I would...' hope, the thought briefly flitted in your head. Though clearly a travesty, Kyojuro had often waited for you to make the first move. The sudden interest on his behalf was more than nice. 'I would... assume.'

-'I don't want to harm, or scare you. Please don't let me do either. If I ever even- begin to... Behead me where I stand.'

-'I-I couldn't-' You'd shudder.

-'You can.' Rengoku would assure. 'I've developed an awful habit.' He'd be squeezing your hip, massaging just rough enough to rock you. He'd pull your leg up and over his own... Slotting himself between your thighs.

-'Y/N, did you let him cum inside you?' The word felt foreign on his tongue. How crude of him.

-'N-no!' You rushed.

-'Did he make you cum?'

-'....No.'

-'Mmm.' Rengoku hummed, his large hand running up your thigh. You quivered as he made contact with your sex. 'You haven't had one in a long time, then.' His fingers would slip past your gown, and pull your garments to the side-

-'I- I haven't. It didnt..didn't... feel right-'

-'Nobody can make you cum like I can, right, Y/N?'

-'Nobody.' You rushed. Your body was reeling from his touch. The mere possibility of his cock once again battering your insides was--

-'And this...' One of his fingers would slid into you, your insides still mushy from Giyu's use. 'This is still mine, right?'

-'It's- It's a yours. It always will be.'

-'Even in death?' Rengoku whispered against your temple.

-'For forever- For as long as you want it-'

-'You're my strong girl, right?' You'd nod. You'd be his anything. 'And this,' He'd add another finger, curling them inside of you.

-Part of him was pleased, you were all stretched out and ready. Giyu must have done you well....

-Giyu had no right to do anything with you.

-'This wants your cock?' He'd ask. You didn't even think before nodding. You'd never heard such words from his mouth.

-How daunting

-You'd cling to his bare chest, trying to just get closer. 'Say you want it.'

-'Give me my cock.' You'd slur. 'I need you. I've needed you. Please- please- I need you to let me.... Use me- I-' He'd already done you in, and he hadn't even tried.

-He could never turn you down. Especially not now that he was so much weaker.

-You stayed laying down, your body pressed against his broad chest- And Rengoku slipped his cock beneath your gown. He didn't bother removing your panties.

-He didn't even let you adjust before he wrapped his arms around you tight and just began pumping.

-How cruel, but it was the least you deserved for allowing another man so close. Rengoku would never punish you for it. He was too kind. He was too good, even when a demons blood crept through his veins. Rengoku was just too fucking good-

-'You're-' a hiccup would interrupt your sob. Words were lost on your poor, over fucked mind. You'd never experienced such speed, or such a grind. 'So- good- Kyo-kyojuro---!'

-His hand swiping at your clit was quick enough for it almost feel like vibrations. Climax after climax while your creaming cunt just begged for his seed.

-You felt like you were being consumed. He didnt break eye contact with you once- Not even allowing you the reprieve to look away from him.

-'Open your eyes.' He cooed, still thrusting up and into your pussy with a roughness that seemed almost impossible with such a tone. 'Look at whose loving you while you cum. Look at whose making you cum.'

-He wanted your eyes on him, and him alone. He wasn't sure what animal he'd become if they drifted away. You wouldn't. You can't.

-He'd never been so possessive. Had never claimed you- He had never really wanted to. Marry you, definitely. Kyojuro had never planned to bed you and not dedicate his romantic life to you-

-but you were always supposed to be able to leave, if you really wanted. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to let you do that, now.

-'Say my name again. Remember whose you are, Y/N. Burn it in your head.' He hissed, an unusual quiet to his voice. It made you hang on every word.

-You were his. He was yours.

-'Kyojuro! Kyojuro!' It was all you could manage. Every question he posed, every time he hummed, or thrust, or made you cum- You'd let him seer in across your stomach if he found fit-

-Rengoku had never loved his name so much. He'd make sure to burn it in your head again, if need be.

#rengoku x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #demon rengoku #hashira x reader

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wardencallings · 4 days ago

Text

Thoughts on a Harding betrayal based on a poll I ran last week. Spoilers for Veilguard below!

I think that for Harding to betray the party, a very specific set of conditions would have to be met. I don't see her betraying the party on a whim, nor for anything less than absolute certainty on her part that this is right. I also dont see her siding with the gods, so her betrayal would have to revolve around Solas, specifically killing him, which I think aligns well with her belonging to the OG Stop Solas group. I'm also going to say that this would require Harding to be romanced by Rook or for something to happen to Taash.

Here is the game progression I think would be necessary for Harding to snap:

1. Rook must be vehemently against Solas in all beginning dialogue choices. Even when Harding expresses how she feels pity for Solas, Rook must be unforgiving and rigid.

2. Paradoxically, Rook encourages the Inquisitor to consider forgiving Solas. This sets up the betrayal scene.

3. Have Harding embrace her anger. Rook makes it clear she has every right to be mad at Solas for what he did. Maybe afterward, add some party banter that demonstrates just how zeroed in on that anger she is. I could see a particularly interesting exchange between Bellara and Harding. The party members are a little apprehensive of Harding's anger, even maybe explicitly saying that they're worried about it consuming her.

4. Before the Ghilin'nain fight, Harding expresses fear of someone dying. In response, Rook tells her that she should trust herself to make the right decisions during the fight and, more so, to trust her ability with her bow -- "You always aim true, Lace."

5. Davrin is sent on the diversion mission and dies. This causes Harding to feel regretful that she didn't push harder to lead the distraction team. She becomes convinced that to prevent death, she must act rather than wait for permission. Also, she has to be alive to betray you, lol.

6. A romanced Rook is stuck in the Fade prison, and Solas is released. I can imagine some codex entries here of unsent letters from Harding to her Ma, expressing regret that she did not shoot Solas when she could've. She writes of watching Davrin fall in her place and how guilty she feels. She laments the loss of the farm, the fate of her neighbors, and the fall of Ferelden, placing blame for it all on Solas. She wonders what he will take from her next. If Rook does not romance Harding, Taash is kidnapped instead of Bellara/Neve. This step is the biggest conduit to Harding's decision to kill Solas before he can threaten or imprison anyone she loves again. After all, without Solas attempting the ritual, the gods would've never been made free, Davrin would be alive, and Rook/Taash never separated from her.

7. A scene is added where Rook reveals to the party in more detail that Solas used blood magic on them to make them see Varric. I know this happens off-screen, but maybe zero in on Harding's reaction to this. Emphasize the disgust and anger.

8. In the final one-on-one talk with her before the fight with Elgar'nan, I'd think it'd be interesting for there to be one more chance to talk her down from her anger, but it'd require a Mythal-esque dialogue tree to accomplish. Anything less, and she's going to force the binding.

9. When at the confrontation with Solas, Rook tries to resolve things peacefully. Harding, overcome with grief for both Varric and Davrin, furious at her lover being threatened by Solas, and having fully embraced her anger, shoots Solas with her bow, leading to a fight sequence and leaving Rook with no choice but to bind him to the Veil violently. There is a callback here to Harding taking this shot, just like she should've before at Solas' ritual in Arlathan (or so she says).

All in all, I think Harding's betrayal here should revolve around the theme of the game: regret. Let me know what you think or if you have any ideas. I may write something revolving around this AU if there's interest :)

#kind of broke my heart writing this lol #i also think it'd be cool to have the option for the Inqusitor to cast judgment on her if the inquisition is still around #i would forgive her tbh #she can do no wrong even in these hypothetical situations #lace harding #veilguard #taash #davrin #solas #veilguard spoilers #dragon age #da:tv

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beemers-hell · 8 months ago

Note

holds out cup

a bit of your thoughts on character designing? your characters are all so distinct and unique, I've been wanting to ask for awhile how you went about your sillies!

You fool. You idiot. You absolute buffoon. You have no idea what you've done. You have no idea what I am about to unleash unto you all.

Hi i am extremely autistic about character design so obligatory [read more] because I am gonna fucking TALK your EAR OFF about this shit, prepare for a fuckass LOOOOOOOOONG post

So the first rule of character design is to fuck around and have fun :)

Anyway onto the real shit:

P1: Foundational Shit

For starters, I'll link you to a post I made like 3 years ago on this topic, just to get some foundational shit out of the way!

Me personally, I have a very rigid structure I stick to whenever I design characters, which is:

I must know what their personality is like

I must know what their fashion tastes are

I must know what their role in the story is (this one only applies if the character is even apart of a bigger narrative in the first place, obviously. I just am strict and don't make new characters unless I have a purpose for them to serve in my stories so it's hard baked into how I operate as a character designer lol)

By having these in mind when I design characters, shit becomes a WHOLE lot easier/more natural for me. This is because:

The personality of a character can usually be reflected in their design, whether it be a bubbly loud energetic guy who's dolled up in bright colors and playful clothing accessories, a commanding bossy stoic guy who's dolled up in subtle and professional clothing pieces, or even subverting this idea by having a character who acts one way but dresses in a way you'd expect from the opposite.

Knowing what kinds of fashion this character would be into in the first place makes it a whole lot easier to get ideas and look for resources on ways you can style them- Knowing the character would be interested in like, for example, scene fashion makes it far easier to look for the type of clothing they'd wear and find pieces that stand out to you so you can start experimenting with what works or what doesn't for that character.

Knowing the role they play can also help a lot when designing them, much like knowing their fashion tastes can. However, where knowing their fashion tastes helps in looking for visual inspiration, knowing their role in a story can help with their design in a thematic sense; If the character is supposed to be some kind of trouble maker rebellious kid, then you're probably going to wanna make them visually fit the bill (or, again, you might want to subvert the idea of what a rebellious little shithead looks like so you go for the opposite of what people imagine!) Ykwim?

Now with that out of the way, let's get some VISUAL EXAMPLES, using my guys obviously lmao

For an example of the personality thing, here's a page I made where I talk about my thought process behind the designs of some of my goons in regards to taking into account their personality (and aesthetic taste):

For an example of the story role thing, here's a page I made where I talk about my thought process behind the designs of Eb and Ben (+Neco and Alli) in regards to the role they play in their story:

I hope this gets the point across!

P2: Additional Stuff to Consider

In addition to the above section, there's also some other things you can utilize to try and make your designs stand out!

One such thing is brainstorming ideas for stand out design elements! Like, something that' makes them stand out from the crowd, or an element of their design that is so specific to them that they just can't be the same character without it. This thing in general is kind of vague by nature so here's some examples using my guys that I think get the point across:

You can also go the extra mile and give them little design details that just add that little extra bit of "oomf" to the character overall. Again, this is kind of vague by nature, but here are some examples I can give with my characters. Some of these doodles are OLD AS HELL so that's why the art style is outdated, but the point still stands!

You can also go the extra mile to try and diversify your designs by doing some structural tests with your characters. What I mean by this is by literally dumbing them down to their most basic attributes, or as I like to call it, "Run the Silhouette & Recognition Test" What I mean by this:

The Silhouette Test: Making a lineup of your characters and blacking them out so they show up as silhouettes, which allows you to check the readability and/or recognizability of your character's design, and if it's unique from your other characters!

Recognition Test: Make a lineup of all of your character's heads and/or bodies, and only draw their facial features/head shape and/or body shape/structure, nothing else. I do this mainly to help myself try to avoid face/body syndrome and I think it works pretty well for me!

Now, for my last extra thing; Remember my point about knowing a character's taste in fashion? This is applies here. Knowing your character's fashion tastes can make designing their main outfit, or any other alternate outfits you make for them, like SUPER fuckin easy. Here's a couple examples with some of my gals:

Raina likes real casual clothes, simple shit like crop tops/tank tops n' jeans, just styled to her liking. She's a simple chick with simple tastes! But there are noticeable touches, like how she has a habit of changing her earrings to match the occasion she's celebrating!

Eb likes grungy clothes, and adds flair to her outfits by dipping into a decora kei inspired style of accessorizing, which compliments her nicely since she loves customizing things to make them her own. She's not fully there with the extravagance of it yet but she's getting there!

Yume likes pastel colors and form fitting clothes, sometimes with loose jackets/robes to keep her cozy, with minimal accessories. She's also simple, but unlike Raina, she doesn't tend to try and go the extra mile with jewelry and/or makeup, not often.

Bank's a baby punk and is still finding her style, but it's clear she likes a lot of leather, spikes, chains, all that kind of shit. Dark colors, with minimal touches of her favorite color (pink lol), and some accessories like earrings, pins, and/or straps are enough to complete a look for her. And of course, any clothing article to obscure her face works for her!

I hope I don't sound fucking nuts I genuinely put way too much time into thinking about all of this stupid bullshit lmao

P3: Actual Examples of Me Working Through the Character Design Process

I figure if I show off examples where I was working on concept shit, that'd help put this into something digestible for y'all lol.

For starters, here's a doodle page I made back in 2021 when I was making small tweaks to a couple of my guys designs, which is why my art style looks old and some characters have their outdated looks lol:

Now, here's a MUCH more recent example of my concept process, where I was figuring out the idea for Namgi's new design (which is still being worked on atm lol):

Here's the concept pages I made when I was figuring out Majin's recent redesign:

And here's some concept pages I made when I I was figuring out the Possessed Form designs for my hosts!

I hope this is all actually helpful and not just like. stupid nothing shit lmao

And like, yanno, you don't HAVE to do/listen to any of this, this is just the kind of shit I've learned over the years that personally helps me with coming up with designs that feel fresh and distinct, at least for my personal tastes! Something I do might just not work for you, the design process is unique for everyone obviously. It's the same thing as your art style, everyone does shit differently lol

This concludes my Autism Ramble!!

#beemer asks #character design #beemers ocs #beemers lore #ebverse #yumeverse

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starry-eyes-love · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 6- You're Forever Mine

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary | Things finally boil to a steaming head between you and Joel. After much discussion Joel decides to spend the night sleeping next to you to help calm you. He reads you a steamy bedtime story and then holds you after you wake up from a horrible nightmare (please read warnings about nightmare below before reading). You get a major dark glimpse into the reader's past and how she met Joel (he's the savior in her story).

Important Note: This chapter has a lot of very graphic scenes that are mentioned that happen to the f!reader during a dreamstate nightmare flashback. If you don’t want to read about these types of details, then skip the flashback scene at the Boston QZ five years prior in the story. You can still understand the story without reading the flashback scene. See warnings below.

Words: 12.0 K (I’m not sorry)

“Baby, if you can’t see why, then I’ve really screwed up. If ya can't see why I want you darlin’, then I don’t deserve you in my life. I’m not Dave honey, I never have been, nor ever will be. If you can’t see that then please honey, just let me go and see my daughter. I don’t want to be in a world where you think I’m a monster. Please.”

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI for whole story

Flashback: Dark content during flashback with David (aka Dave): language, vio!ence, abu$e mentions several types, name calling, degrading references, death, b!ood and gore (please see note above, you have been warned this is very dark content).

Rest of story: Smut, language, Joel begging (it deserves it’s own warning), heavy knife references, references to abuse, tension (a lot scattered about), Joel referencing death and death of his daughter, angst, f fingering, m handjob, a lot of smutty parts (you have been warned), use of the word ‘love’, Joel and the reader being an ass (hey it’s relationship dynamics), Joel reading smut out loud to F!Reader (yeah, we’re doing it), fluffy parts sprinkled in, breast feeding kink via smutty book read from Joel, size kink, daddy kink, age gap (not disclosed), body reference (without being too specific), g spot reference, name calling (baby, honey, little girl, etc.)…and I think that is it. Finally the heat is turning up with these two. Enjoy :)

Story

Joel was wound up tight, stressed, and not in a good way. This thing between the two of you was starting to boil to a head and he didn't like it. He hated this back and forth that was going on. He hated that he didn't know from one day to the next if he was going to scream at you for fucking up his life, even in the best possible way. Or if he was going to give in and fuck you, just to get out all of his pent up frustration. God, he needed to relieve himself. It had been way too long, and this constant edging between the two of you was giving him the worst case of blue balls that he could ever imagine. He wanted to bury himself so badly inside of you, throw caution out of the window and give in to his body's needs to have you. That was what it was now, a deep rooted need to release all of his anxiety, anger, and pent up frustration of trying to be the good guy for you.

Joel wasn't a good man, he knew it. Sure, at one time he could be gentle, tender, and loving. He suspected that those emotions were still buried deep inside of him. But ever since the world went to shit, Joel had to survive. He had to kill people in order to survive, and he'll do it again if he must. But you, you were different. You were kind, soft, gentle, but also a fierce woman. There was no one on this Earth that Joel feared more than you, especially when you were pissed off at him.

Joel saw first hand how you handled frustration. You'd bottle it up inside and then explode later. He'd seen how you’d kill people with your knife, how you'd keep stabbing them long after they were dead to release that anger that you had. An anger that he was just starting to understand. People wronged you in life, took your innocence far before they should have. This fact made Joel want to scream and see red whenever he thought about it. People had prayed upon you, took advantage of you at your weakest, and he wasn't ever going to let that happen again.

Joel also hated seeing you feel weak. It didn't bother him that you couldn't do everything, hell Joel couldn't grow plants, and yet here you were making it work slowly in the house. You had your strengths; the ability to find things hidden, anticipate things, and even take a mothering role with Ellie. But one of your best abilities, Joel thought, was your ability to get underneath his goddamn skin and drive him crazy. This fact alone pissed him off, but also excited him because he loved your fire, attitude, and passion in life. The worst part, you knew you had this effect on him.

Joel was lost in thought, thinking about you when you were showing Ellie how to string together a bow and how to sharpen a knife. God, it turned him on to hear you direct her on how to stab and kill people. He knew that you could survive in this world, even if he wasn’t around. Most men wouldn’t like this type of independence or fierceness, but for Joel, this was the biggest turn on. The only thing that he wished for was for your nightmares to quit haunting you.

"And you turn it like this to secure it" you said to Ellie, showing Ellie how to finish attaching the string for a bow.

"That's so fucking cool y/n. Joel, you did a great job showing her this," Ellie said looking at the bow amazed.

"Not my doing Ellie, that's something she knew all on her own." Joel said, taking a slow sip of the whiskey that he was holding, a small find he got from the cellar outside.

"Seriously? You knew something Joel didn't?" Ellie asked, looking at you shocked.

"Who do you think taught him how to thread it?" you said with a smirk.

Ellie glanced over at Joel, who started to blush and rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Don't make fun of me darlin’" he said, shaking his head and laughing at how shocked Ellie looked that you had actually taught him how to do something.

"But Joel, I thought you like knew everything," Ellie said, pushing his buttons on purpose.

"I don't know everything, never have kid. And you,” he said shaking a finger at you, “Stop that damn smiling and laughing over there." You were quietly sitting on the floor next to Ellie, softly laughing to yourself at Ellie's statement, watching her push Joel’s buttons. The amusement of this entire situation was just as much for your enjoyment as it was hers.

"Didn't say anything" you said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.

"Look here smartass, I may not know how to make what you're doing" he said waving his hand, jestering towards the bow. "But you better believe I know how to shoot that darn thing." And with that you stopped laughing and got up. Shooting a bow was always a touchy subject, one that Joel knew you had.

You walked to the kitchen and started washing your hands, not that you needed to, but it was something to do to get your hands to calm down at the memory. Joel could sense your unease as Ellie continued teasing him. Joel was only half listening to her, the person he was paying attention to was you. He saw the way your breathing spiked and became labored, he also saw how your hands were shaking when you went past him. At the sink he saw you vigorously rub your hands underneath the water, acting like you were trying to wash off the signs of blood, which he knew was yours that you were seeing and remembering. Damn it, he thought, she’s having another fucking flashback.

As Ellie continued talking, Joel stood up and approached you slowly in the kitchen. When he approached you and saw that you were still rubbing your hands fast together, scrubbing hard and not acknowledging him, he slowly wrapped his arms around you. He placed his hands on top of yours under the water and said "leave it baby. He's not here. Come on.” Joel then shut off the water, took your hands that were still trembling, and turned you into his chest. As he slowly caged you in his arms he began to slowly rub his hand up and down your back, humming that little tune to you that he did all of those years before.

What you didn't realize was that you were shaking so bad in Joel’s arms that Ellie had noticed. Ellie approached the pair of you and said "Joel is she ok? She's shaking really bad and she looks like she's-"

"She's fine Ellie, don't worry” you heard Joel say. When you glanced up at him you felt a single tear leave your eye, and a horrible tremor went through your body at the memory of the last time you attempted to shoot a bow. “You're ok, shh I got you" Joel said, while tucking you gently back into his chest, and wrapping you up in his arms. “Just listen to my voice baby, just me” and then he began slowly humming that song to you again.

As he continued to comfort you, you felt him gently sway you back and forth, rubbing your back, and planting kisses to the top of your head. Your mind was so far in the past that you didn’t hear Joel tell Ellie to give you guys a few minutes alone. The only thing that you could hear was the ringing in your ears at a memory that you wanted to forget. ‘Stupid bitch. *Smack* I'll teach you a fucking lesson. *Smack, Smack.*’ Even after all these years, you still could feel the sting on your skin from the abuse Dave did. As soon as you involuntarily flinched at the memory of a hard hand to your face, you felt Joel tighten his grip around you while saying "it's gone. He's gone. You're safe with me baby, shhh. It's ok," and then he went back to humming that song that you loved until the memory of Dave left you once again.

You didn't know how long you stood there embraced in Joel’s arms before you heard him say "do ya want me to sleep next to you tonight baby?" When you didn’t answer he pulled away and then gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Might make the bad nightmares stay away if I sleep next to you honey," he continued in a soothing voice. You had to admit, not sleeping next to Joel has made the nightmares come back with a vengeance. You haven't hardly slept in weeks, which meant you were more susceptible to bad dreams and horrible flashbacks.

"I don't want to be a burden on you," you said.

"Ain't a burden love, never have been."

"Joel I-" you began to say before Joel interrupted you.

"Come on, let's get you tucked into bed darlin,' you look exhausted." Joel then took your hand and led you into your bedroom, holding your hand the entire way. Once inside of your bedroom he quickly got you situated sitting on the bed. “Hang on a sec,” he said and then disappeared back down the hall. After a few moments Joel reappeared with a worn out old flannel. He handed it to you and said "here, put this on. It’s mine and I know you like the way I smell."

Slightly embarrassed and turning a shade of red you took his flannel and said “thanks.” You did like how Joel smelled, but you didn’t think he knew it. “We both are getting comfortable tonight love” he said as he chucked a set of comfy pajamas for himself on the bed.

"Wow, aren't we both domestic" you said, shaking your head at seeing Joel change into an old T-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.

“Yeah, well, I need it. And by the looks of ya, so do you darlin.’” Joel smirked as he unbuckled his pants and slowly took them off while looking at you. You knew you needed to turn away, but when you noticed Joel removing his boxers, you couldn't help but stare. God he was big. You could see that even in his softened state that his cock hung heavy between his legs. You didn't realize that you were staring with a slightly open mouth until you heard his Southern drawl.

“Baby, nothin’ good comes outta you looking at me like that. Come on, eyes up here darlin.’” Joel said teasing you.

You immediately felt embarrassed at what you were doing, starring at a grown man’s crotch. Yes he was your boyfriend, but you didn’t have that type of relationship with him at the moment. “Oh God Joel, I’m so sorry” you said, burying your head in your hands and turning 20 shades of red.

Joel chuckled and said “Baby, I love you looking. But I don't think it's the proper answer right now to our problems of lack of sleep between the both of us. So come on, let's get you changed and tucked into bed honey.” When you didn’t move Joel walked up to you and gently grabbed your hands and said “Come on, arms up for me.” When you slowly raised your arms above your head, Joel lifted your shirt up as you kept your eyes closed.

“Angel, open your eyes and look at me” he gently whispered. When you did, you found that he met you with dark intense eyes, like a wolf who just found his prey. As you looked at him you noticed that he lightly licked his lips while he eye fucked you. You noticed that he slowly looked down your chest, tracing the curve of your breasts with his eyes. When you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, Joel just about fainted.

“Fuuck” Joel growled, looking at you standing before him with nothing covering your chest. If he was a better man he'd turn around and give you privacy, but he wasn't. It had been too long since he had a beautiful woman standing before him half naked. When you slowly bent down and pulled off your pants and panties, Joel almost came right there on the spot.

As you stood in front of Joel completely naked, you found yourself slowly tracing your hands along your curves. You cupped your breasts and said “do you want to touch them?” as you slowly twisted your nipple while letting out a soft moan.

“Baby, you- you can’t do this. Fuck woman, I’m-I’m not gonna be able to-” Joel said, slowly reaching out to touch you, but stopping midway before he did. He wanted to put his hands overtop yours, to feel the softness of your plump breasts underneath his callused hands. But Joel knew he couldn't, while shaking his head he said in a low voice “look at me scolding ya about starring, and I’m doing no different. Finish getting dressed, and let's go to bed baby.”

With a satisfied smirk you turned your back to place on his flannel, and then buttoned it up. You decided to forgo putting your bra back on. You grabbed a pair of clean black lace panties, a rare find but something that you were glad you found in storage. As you turned around you saw Joel staring at you wide eyed. “Baby, I- that’s not” he said, glancing between your chest and ass. He was trying to figure out how he was supposed to sleep next to you tonight, knowing you were practically naked next to him.

“Look here cowboy,” you said in a sarcastic tone. “I ain’t sleeping fully clothed so you can just fuck right off now if ya think I should.” When you approached your side of the bed, you froze. Chewing on your lip for a moment you finally asked, “is it safe for us to be dressed like this and all relaxed Joel?” You stared down at yourself, picking at the edges of your clothes, thinking that how you were dressed was both silly and stupid.

When Joel glanced over at you, he noticed your meek expression, lack of confidence, and the fact that you were chewing on your lip in a worried state. Sleeping fully relaxed in this world wasn’t something anyone could afford to do anymore, but he knew it was something that you both desperately needed tonight. "I put up new defenses around here. I also installed two deadbolt locks to the door. I think for one night we can let our guard down a bit. I don't know about you baby, but I need one night where I'm not on the fucking edge. I'm so wound up honey that I-”. That's when Joel saw it, fear mixed with longing behind your eyes, and that was a dangerous combination. With clearing his throat he added, “ya darlin’, it’s safe for tonight.”

Joel wasn't kidding about needing to be comfortable. He had reading glasses, a book, and a lamp that was turned on, giving the room a soft glow. When he sat down, he sat with his back against the wall. His rifle and his knife were set next to the bed, just in case. After he was situated, he looked over at you and said "come on baby, come to bed" while patting your side of the bed.

Shaking your head and giggling slightly you said, "I never would have thought in a million years that Mr. Joel Miller would actually say 'come on baby, come to bed.’ Kind of a special occasion, if ya ask me."

Joel glared at you and then quipped, "ok smartass, just lay down and don’t give me any more of your sass."

Smiling to yourself at his little quip, you laid down next to him, facing him. After you got situated, Joel tucked the blankets over you, bent down, and kissed the top of your head saying "now go to sleep baby." He then put his reading glasses on as he sat there and silently started reading to himself.

As you laid there you listened to Joel slowly breathe. You focused on trying to match your breaths with his, and in time you felt yourself finally starting to relax. The longer Joel read, the more you saw his muscles unclench, and his brows unfurrow. You laid there curled up in his flannel, holding the sleeve up by your nose, while slowly inhaling his scent. Joel was right, you did love the way he smelled. He smelled of pine, cinnamon, wood, and Joel. An intoxicating scent that left your head spinning, but also something that you could describe as home. You were somewhat in a daze, thinking about stuff that has recently happened when all of a sudden you heard Joel say, "Ya need to stop thinking so hard."

"What?" You said, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to focus.

"You're thinking too hard darlin’," he said, still reading his book.

"How am I thinking too hard?"

"Baby, you're breathing hard, shifting your legs, and sighing to yourself."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize that I was doing any of that" you replied in a meek voice.

"S'alright darlin'. What were ya thinking about anyways?" When you didn’t respond, Joel stopped and looked over at you.

"Just wondering where you found those glasses" was all that you said.

Joel cocked his head saying "that’s bullshit darlin'. That's not what's got ya all twisted up. But to answer your question, I found these in the cellar outside. They're regular reading glasses, and just so happens they’re the type of ones I need.” Joel then returned to reading his book.

You laid there quietly, chewing on your lip and thinking about some things that were bugging you a lot recently. Somehow Joel must have seen you out of his peripheral vision as he said with a sigh, “So what are you really thinking 'bout?"

“Just wondering what you’re reading?” you said, pressing your thighs together, not wanting to voice your actual true concerns. Laying this close to Joel wasn’t helping your sex drive. You haven’t been able to get yourself off recently due to how stressed out you were. But tonight your mind kept wandering to what Joel looked like when he changed in front of you, and you wondered how he'd feel again inside of you. You couldn't believe how delicious his cock looked, all hanging heavy between his legs. You could practically feel the rush of arousal out of you when you saw him earlier. You didn’t think that telling Joel, nor asking for his help, would be appropriate tonight. You remembered how he dealt with your starring earlier. He told you that you two shouldn't do anything, and for you to stop.

Joel looked over at you as you kept shifting under the covers. He knew that you really didn't want to know what he was reading. But Joel wasn’t in the mood to argue with you tonight. Replying with a bit more sarcasm than he intended Joel said, “a book darlin.’ I’m reading a damn book.”

“No shit sherlock, I know you’re reading a book Joel” you said with a sarcastic eye roll. After a moment of shifting around uncomfortably again you added, “can you, um, maybe read it to me out loud?”

Joel froze and looked over at you. “Darlin’, this ain’t one of those types of books.”

“I know what type of book it is Joel, Jesus. I know the author. She likes little Westerns that have two people- um. You know they- uh. They-

“Fuck.” Joel said, finally looking down at you with one eyebrow raised.

“W-what?” you said, looking back up at him with innocent eyes.

“She has them fuck darlin’, is that what you’re trying so hard not to say? You're fumbling with your words and acting worse than a toddler trying to talk.” he said, while closing the book and looking at you.

“Jesus Joel, an asshole much?” you snapped, completely turning red at his reference. Tonight was just not your night, so you turned away from Joel and laid there facing the other direction. You mumbled under your breath “you know, you can just fuck off. You don’t even understand what it feels like to not have someone want to fuck you, or to not be able to get yourself off.”

If Joel had to describe your mood tonight it would be moody, emotional, and down right irritating. Of course he understood what it was like to want to be with someone. Jesus, you were wearing his flannel with black panties on with no bra. He hadn’t had sex with anyone, specifically you, in months. He's attempted to get himself off, but again hasn't been able to. He also understood what it felt like to be frustrated, and God damnit, he wanted to smack some sense into your ass at that statement you just said. God help me, this woman is trying my fucking patience tonight, he thought.

For the next several minutes you heard Joel silently turning the pages of his book. Usually the silence wouldn't bother you, but tonight your nerves were on fire. All you wanted was for your so-called boyfriend to kiss you, make out with you, do something to take away these weird feelings that you had. You were hopeful that laying in bed next to him was going to lead to maybe some other things. Hell, that’s why you agreed to lay next to him in the first place. But apparently Joel wasn’t interested. Truth be told, he never really was interested in you anymore. So with another big sigh, you realized that you were just going to be sexually frustrated for a while. Yeah, great, fucking perfect.

Joel was attempting to unwind by reading the book he held. God, he was wired. He was so turned on and sexually frustrated by watching you earlier that he wanted nothing more than to bury his aching cock deep within your warm walls. He could practically smell your arousal tonight, the honey sweet aroma that he knew and grew to love. He thought reading a simple Western would help him calm his nerves. What he didn’t realize was that the author wrote a lot of graphic sex scenes in the book. And those graphic sex scenes weren't helping his frustration nor the hard on he had for you.

After a moment of contemplating, and hearing you sigh once again, he decided to say fuck it, and read out loud to you. What’s the worst that could happen, he thought, if anything maybe tonight I’ll finally get fucking laid. So with a big inhale, and deep exhale, Joel started reading to you out loud.

“After a night of blissful romance, by morning’s first light he was gone again. She could tell by the way the growing baby in her belly was kicking, that it missed their Papa as much as she missed her strong man. She tried convincing herself that he’d be back before winter, but she knew deep in her heart that was not the case. Winter turned into spring, and with it, came the birth of her son, Joshua. Giving birth was hard, especially when her man wasn’t by her side. But the neighbor lady, a woman who had 5 children, helped her with the process. Then one day when Joshua was 3 months old, a familiar Southern drawl came from across the room “fuck darlin’, ain’t you beautiful.”

As Joel read out loud, you turned back around to face him. You glanced up and saw how his natural curls slowly swayed at the turn of each page. How he’d use his tongue to gently lick his finger right before he’d turn the page. You also saw how Joel would periodically lick his lower lip, as a way to moisten it as he slowly read out loud to you.

“He watched her from across the room as she fed his son. After not being around a woman for many months, he found the soft suckling noises, and the light bounce of her breast, as his son fed to be something exotic. He slowly felt himself become hard at watching her nurse him. There was something so incredibly sexy about a woman feeding his child, and he was desperate for proper release. He found a chair in the corner of the room and slowly took a seat. He quietly palmed his cock in his jeans at the sight of you.”

“When he watched you switch sides, he nearly exploded in his pants. You left your other breast hanging out of your bra. It swung heavy, gentle side to side motions as you rocked your son. He studied it, the curve and slope of your engorged tits. He saw a little bit of milk drip out from where his son had just finished feeding from you. God, he wanted to walk over there and pick up your heavy breasts and massage them. He knew they hurt you, being twice the size from what they normally were, he could see how much they made you ache. He also wanted to taste you, to lick the little drop of milk off from them, and then finish milking you dry with his mouth. He wanted to taste the warm, wet rush of milk in his mouth as he suckled from you, nipped you, and got you to moan for him. He knew your breasts were always so sensitive, but right now he knew he could get you to cum just by nursing from you himself. Feeling himself strain hard against his pants, he slowly unzipped himself and took out his aching member.”

Joel stopped and took a deep breath to steady himself before reading on. God his cock was fully erect right now, leaking precum and throbbing against the sheet. He wanted you to put your mouth on it, to touch it, something to help relieve the desperate need and ache that he felt. In an attempt to get this situation under control, before he made a fool of himself, he said in a breathy pant, “maybe uh, maybe we shouldn’t finish this darlin’, It ah, shit, it kinda gets really vulgar in a second.”

“Finish reading the fucking chapter Joel, please,” you said with a rush to your voice. When he glanced at you he could tell that you were just as worked up. You were sweating, your eyes were closed and your legs were closed tight. You slowly rocked back and forth, trying to find a little bit of relief for the tension that was building fast in your core. God you two needed to blow off some steam together and soon.

“Look here little girl” Joel said with a bite to his voice. “Don’t go and snap at me cause you’re fucking frustrated. I won’t keep readin’ if ya can’t be nice.” Joel then noticed you shuffle underneath the sheets, putting your hand in-between your legs, and pressing your legs together again while whispering “sorry, it’s just hard.”

As Joel sat there he watched how hard you were pressing your thighs together, gently rocking yourself into your hand. Fuck, you looked hot and bothered, and he was hard as hell. He wanted to see how far you’d go to relieving yourself, so he continued reading out loud.

“Up and down he stroked his cock, working himself up. He noticed a good amount of precum drip from his slit at the sight of the woman nursing. When she looked over at him he growled low saying, ‘when you’re done with him, you’re gonna come on over here and bounce on this dick properly darlin’.”

“After she was done nursing, and had put the babe down to bed, she slowly sauntered over to the man in the room. She had no intention of riding him, but she couldn’t help with how worked up she’d been, and how long it had been since she had a man between her legs. She found herself straddling him and very slowly lowering herself down on his cock. When she was fully sheathed she started moving back and forth, up and down, and then back and forth. She worked him hard, giving him everything that she could with her hips, fucking him like she’d never see him again. The more she worked him, the more she felt that familiar coil tighten deep within her belly as her tits swayed and bounced in his face.”

“‘I feel it darlin’, keep fucking going’ he said as he started helping her rock faster into him and attaching his mouth to her nipple. When he bit down she yelped, saying ‘fuck yes, harder.’ He smiled as he continued to lick, nip, and suck her gorgeous swollen tits. He started meeting her thrust for thrust, jack hammering up into her, chasing his own high. ‘Why did I stop fucking this’ he said, moaning into her as he felt her walls flutter around him.

“‘Mama, I know you're close. Come on, give it to me’ he growled, grinding her hard on him. One, two, three hard thrusts in and she felt her coil snap hard in her stomach. She felt a gush of fluid rush his cock and then he tipped over the edge growling in her ear. He continued thrusting as he worked them both through their highs, grunting each other’s names in the process. As soon as they were done, he picked her up and took her to bed where he showed her what being home truly meant. They both tipped over the edge multiple times into eternal bliss, needing each other for forever more.”

When Joel finished reading the chapter he closed the book and heard himself panting hard. He looked over at you and saw that you had your eyes closed and was slowly rocking back and forth with your hand in-between your legs again panting hard. Fuck you looked hot. As soon as you noticed Joel had stopped reading your eyes snapped open and you glared at him with blown out pupils.

“Maybe uh-maybe we should uh-”

“Goodnight Joel” you whispered while you rolled over and laid there in silence. Joel just looked at you puzzled, about to ask if you wanted to maybe do something when you said “please turn out the light, I’m kinda tired and wanna go to bed.”

“Yeah sure” he said, turning out the light and slipping down into the bed. Joel laid there staring at the ceiling, thinking when he said “do you wanna-”

“No, goodnight Joel.”

“Yeah, ok. Goodnight darlin.’” Joel laid there confused, not understanding what had happened. He didn’t know if you were embarrassed at him seeing you worked up or if he somehow hurt your feelings. After laying in silence for a bit he was going to ask if you were ok. But before he did, he heard you say “before you asked what I was thinking, I was just thinking what we're gonna do once we find Tommy. Like where do I go? Do I live with you or am I supposed to be on my own or what?”

Joel didn’t answer right away, as he didn't know the answer. This was something that the two of you hadn’t discussed. He wanted you to stay with him, but he didn’t want to force you to stay either. Apparently his lack of communication right now upset you. “Just forget I asked,” you said. “I'll just figure it out myself." And with that you fell into a deep sleep. But as you started to dream, your mind decided to recall a memory that you truly wanted to never remember again…

Dreamstate- Flashback to Boston, QZ- 5 years prior

(graphic content)...if you want to skip this section go to “flashback end” in bold below to pick up the regular story again. Please read warnings before proceeding reading flashback, this is very dark content.

“You’re so fucking stupid, how can you not be able to do this. Like every dumb idiot can shoot a bow, well everyone except for you.” Dave snarled at you when you couldn’t even pull back the bow.

“Well I don’t know Dave, maybe teach me how to do it instead of ridiculing me. Like what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you acting like this? You’re supposed to be my boyfriend” you said, snapping at him.

“Boyfriend? Nope, I’m not your boyfriend” he said with venom, as he downed the last of the amber liquid in the glass bottle. “Boyfriends are people you care about, and you honestly don’t give a fuck about me. So why should I care about you in return? You’re just a stupid liability that I have to deal with, and one that I can’t seem to get rid of.”

You watched Dave drink, knowing what was in store for you tonight. When Dave drank, he usually became violent with you. It was a standard routine that the two of you had, and one you were honestly sick of. You wanted out, that was for certain. You wanted to get as far away from this piece of shit guy as you could.

In order to cope and deal with the fact that you hated your life, and that you wanted out and away from Dave, you took another job. You were smuggling goods secretly on the black market of the QZ and Joel Miller was the man that you were working with. Tess, Joel’s partner, had approached you after she had seen bruises on your arms during your normal QZ job. Dave usually never gave you any bruises that people could visually see. But something recently happened, and he no longer cared. So you walked around with bruises, where the world could see who you belonged to. When Tess saw this, it angered the hell out of her. So much so that she introduced you to Joel, in an attempt to help you earn enough money to get out and away from Dave.

“If you wanna get out of there, you come talk to me or Joel, and we’ll get you out, understand?” Tess said while working a shift with you. All you did was nod your head, but you didn't take her up on her offer until Dave broke your collarbone. That's the night you went to see Tess at home. She helped clean you up and then let you stay over.

When Joel got home he said “what’s she doing here?” while pointing at you.

“She's spending the night Joel, she got roughed up a bit and needed care.”

Joel approached you and lightly grabbed your chin, examining the bruise that was forming on the side of your lip. “Better get some ice on that darlin’ before it swells.” That night Joel slept on the couch and insisted that Tess and you took the bed.

You started doing odd jobs on the side for Tess and Joel. Joel never questioned you of why you wanted the side jobs. Just like he never questioned you of why you had bruises on your arms or hickies on your neck. The time you showed up with a swollen black eye though he said, “darlin’ it ain’t right what he’s doing, no guy is worth that.”

As Dave's anger increased, so did the extra jobs. Tess and Joel threw every side job they had at you in an attempt to help you get enough money to leave. Finally after months of pulling double shifts, you had enough money to leave. This made you happy as you no longer had to feel afraid of Dave anymore, but you were so wrong.

“You know what Dave, fine” you yelled snapping back at him. “I can’t keep doing this with you. I’ll just pack up my shit and-”

“Don’t flatter yourself Y/N, you know you ain’t leaving, where would you even go?” he said, baiting you.

“Anyplace other than with you Dave, so just fuck o-”

“Where you just about to tell me to fuck off?” Dave said, sneering at you. “Bad move honey. I may not be a genius, but I ain’t stupid. I found your extra stash of money, real sweet hiding it in a sock” Dave said while holding up the sock.

Dave reached in and grabbed the wad of money that you had earned. When he started the money on fire with a lighter you yelled “what the fuck are you doing Dave? My god, don’t burn that.” You lunged at the sock to try to put out the fire.

Dave kept pushing you back until all the money was burnt to ash. You fell to your knees defeated and angry that he'd take this last bit from you. You heard him laugh behind you saying, “think again sweetheart, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now get the fuck up.”

When you stood up you felt anger and bile rise up from the pit of your stomach. That was almost a year's worth of pay down the drain. You had pulled extra shifts, did side jobs, sometimes almost died, trying to save up enough money to leave. You put up with Dave’s shit, allowing him to mark you with his mouth when you hated the very sight of him, just so you could get up and do another job for cash. Now the asshole burned it up like ash, just so he could watch you seethe in anger. He didn’t care if he had extra money, money meant nothing to Dave. Power is what Dave craved. If money that you earned was going to take his power away from him, he'd burn it up just to make sure you'd lose all control.

When you turned around you didn’t care about playing nice anymore. When you first got to know Dave, you thought that he was someone who cared. You quickly found out that was a lie. “You’re an asshole” you yelled, smacking him hard across the face. As soon as you smacked him you watched his eyes glaze over, and then the other side of him came out.

“Ok, fine bitch. You wanna play like that, then let’s fucking play like that.” Your vision blurred as Dave hit you across the face. You then felt him hit you again, and again, and again, and again. When his one hand got tired, he then switched to the other but this time with a closed fist. You tried to fight back, but the more you struggled, the more he pinned you down on the ground. With both of his knees on either side of your arms, you couldn’t move. You eventually tried to relax, knowing that the more you fought the worse it was going to be. But this didn't stop him.

“You know,” Dave said, “I think I’m just gonna just take what I need this time from you. You seem to always run your fucking mouth off, saying you want to be my girlfriend, so why not take what's mine, right?” You then felt the rip of your jeans beneath you. You tried to fight him off, realizing what he was after, and what he was going to do. Dave and you had never had sex, and that was something that he always hated.

“Dave you can’t, please, don’t. I’ll stay. Just don’t do that, don’t take that from me” you yelled as tears streamed down your face as you tried to fight him off. You fought for your life, because honestly it felt like this was it. But the more you fought the angrier he got until you felt the snap of your ankle, and then the searing pain that went with it. He broke your ankle so you couldn’t run away. You then felt him take his knife and cut you deep on your thigh, right up by your mound as he said “gonna make sure this is deep enough, so you have a scar here forever to remember who the fuck you belong to.”

You tried to fight him, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t get him off of you. And then finally you felt it, the searing pain in your groin as Dave forced himself all the way into you. He took the last bit of innocence that you had, you were now truly broken.

You laid there crying, sobbing, wishing that death would take you. You must have been making too much noise because you felt Dave's hand on your mouth with a knife at your throat, yelling “shut the fuck up.” You thought ‘please, just cut me and let me die here’ as you heard Dave moan above you. He continued to take what he thought belonged to him.

“Fuck, why have you denied this to me for so long, huh?” he said. You knew it wasn’t a question that he wanted answered, it was just something he was saying. “Gonna do this every fucking day now with you, Jesus. Fuck, will you at least stop fucking crying and pretend to at least enjoy this” he said, as you felt another smack across your face. You turned your face away from him so only your bad eye was upright, the one he beat hard with a fist. You didn’t want to look at him with the side of your face that you could still see out of.

You laid there and tried to will the tears to stop, but they never did. You felt him tighten his hand around your throat as he squeezed the life out of it. “Fucking look at me, I know little lady you can still see out of one eye, not that fucking stupid. You look at who owns you, you hear me” he yelled, as he yanked your face towards him. When you looked up at Dave, you saw the monster that he truly was. Somehow in the last few years a man who was kind and gentle to you turned into someone who was this. You thought that maybe this was him all along. You tried to convince yourself of that as a way of coping.

As he continued you suddenly felt your head get dizzy from the lack of oxygen. You knew that you were done. That this was the day you were going to die. There was no more compassion in Dave’s face anymore, only a monster that was going to kill. You’ve seen this look in his eyes when he's killed other people before, so you knew you were next.

As you laid there accepting your fate you heard a deep voice yell “what the fuck are you doing, get the fuck off from her.” You saw Dave get yanked off from you by someone, but you didn't know who.

“Mind your own fucking business, old man” you heard Dave yell back in return. You then heard a struggle followed by three soft bangs of a gun. It was a gun that had a silencer on it, you knew this because it was sold on the blackmarket of the QZ, and Dave usually carried a gun with a silencer on it.

As you laid still you heard the person who shot the gun approach. At first you thought it was Dave, that he was coming back over to finish what he started. But when you heard the Texan drawl of “darlin’ are you ok?” the flood gates opened up and you fell apart. You knew that voice anywhere, the voice of Joel Miller.

Joel kneeled down by you as he gently sat you up. “Are you ok?” he said, looking you over to see what was all wrong. When he noticed the blood that was coming from in-between your legs, he shrugged off his flannel shirt, wrapped it around you and said, “ok, come on. Let’s get you outta here, and get ya cleaned up.” He then picked you up and carried you back to his house.

Once you were cleaned up Joel got you situated and laid you down on his bed. Tess wasn't home, she was out working according to Joel. In an effort to try to get you to sleep, Joel laid you on your side and tucked you tight into his chest. One leg went in-between your legs, and he slowly stroked soothing circles on your back saying “it’s okay honey, I got ya and nothing bad is ever gonna happen, just breathe.” He started humming that little tune that you’d come to know and love so well…Flashback end

Back to Regular Story

“y/n. Y/n. Y/N” you heard Joel yell, but it sounded muffled to your ears. The only thing that you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat and the labored breathing that you were doing. “I can’t do this, he hates me, he wants to hurt me, I’m all alone" was all that you said out loud, still stuck someplace inside of your nightmare. You were drowning in anxiety, breaking out in a cold sweat, and not realizing that you were still in fact dreaming.

“Baby, wake up” Joel yelled, shaking you as he tried to get you out of the nightmare. You haven’t had this kind of a nightmare for a long time, and this fact burned hot in Joel’s chest. He didn’t want you remembering the past, remembering the night that he killed Dave. He knew that’s the nightmare you were having because you always said words like “please don't take that Dave, don't cut me. I'll be good, I promise” and finally you'd yell “please just kill me, I wanna go home,” like you were doing right now. If that son of a bitch was still alive, I’d kill that motherfucker yet again, Joe thought to himself.

Joel was rubbing your arms and trying to wake you up as you started to thrash in the sheets. “Baby come on, come on honey it’s me, you gotta wake up” he said, feeling his heart ache at you trying to run away in your dream with your eyes still closed. All of a sudden you sat up in bed and let out a blood curdling scream, clothes drenched slick with sweat, and body shaking all over. As soon as your eyes flew open you saw Joel was sitting upright, right in front of you. He grabbed you and held you saying “baby I’m here, I'm here. You’re safe. No one’s hurting you. It all was just a bad dream honey, all of it. It was just a bad dream.”

“Joel” you said, shaking, touching his face, not believing that it was really him and that he was there. “Dave, he, he-”

“Shhh baby, c’mere, I gotcha honey, I gotcha” Joel said while wrapping his arms around you and tightly holding you against his chest. “He’s gone baby, he’s gone. Shhh.” Joel felt the tremors and aftershocks go through your entire body, up your spine, as you came down from your nightmare. Joel slowly rocked you back and forth, and side to side, humming to you and reassuring you that you were alright.

"Baby, can you look at me." Joel said with the gentlest voice, after humming to you and rocking you for a while. When you opened your eyes you saw him look at you with the softest eyes. Your lip quivered hard as your tears kept falling. Why are men cruel, why do they always hurt me, and why can't anyone love me? you thought to yourself. What you didn't realize was that you voiced your thoughts out loud, and Joel heard them. You tried to calm yourself down, but your throat burned. After taking a few breaths to steady yourself you felt the world start to spin on its axis. Your heart raced and you felt the sob that you were trying to hold back escape your mouth.

"Oh baby, c’mere." Joel said as he grabbed your head and tucked you into the crook of his neck. He started humming to you that song again that you knew so well, the one he hummed that first night to you.

"It-it’s so beau-beautiful. Wh-what song is that?" you asked as you slowly finished crying yourself out.

"I used to hum it to Sarah when she was little. It's a song I wrote before she was born." Joel said as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, holding you firmer to his chest to protect you.

"It truly is beautiful, Joel."

"Yeah she is beautiful. She's right here in my arms, and she's all mine." Joel said while he rubbed your back.

"Joel I-"

Joel pulled back and cupped your face in his large callused hands while slowly swiping your tears away. "Y/n, let me get this out first baby, okay? I care so much about you baby, truly I do. It destroys me to see you like this. That fucker, Dave, he’s gone. Ya hear me? You gotta stop letting him in like this. No more baby, ok? Now c’mere.”

Joel then laid you down on the bed and tucked you into him, the same way he did that first night. “I'm not him mama, I never have been.” Joel continued to brush your tears away while whispering in your ear "stop cryin' baby. You forever have a home with me, for as long as you want it, Ellie too.”

“But for how long” you say muffled into his chest. Joel pulled you away and looked at you to continue, not understanding what you meant.

“How long do I have a home Joel? Am I gonna be the roommate that gets to watch you bring women back to your house and fuck them in your bed? Is your bed ever going to be our bed, or am I just the person you're forced to be with? Am I just a fucking doormat that you hurt over and over again Joel, someone you fucking forget because you're too afraid of feeling something. ‘She's too young, he's too old, you can't be together, it's wrong.’ It'll be worse than David. You're gonna hur-hurt me w-worse than he did. Why can't you just love me?" There it was, in the broken silence of the room, that you told Joel your biggest fear.

Joel couldn't believe it, that you didn't understand his feelings for you. You weren't a doormat, and he sure as hell wasn't that good for nothing David. "Baby, you ain't ever gonna be a doormat, ok. I honestly don't give a fuck what people think if we're together. They can all just fuck off if they don't like it, including my brother Tommy. You and Ellie, you're my whole life, and nothing is ever gonna change that" Joel said, holding you tight to his chest.

After holding you tight for a few minutes he then pulled back and said “I'm committed to being yours, ya hear me? Fuck mama, you feel that" he said while slowly grinding his hard bulge into your pelvis. You both let out a low moan at the sensation. The two of you were both so worked up from this back and forth edging that has been happening that any little friction sent you both over the edge into wanting to fuck the other person bad.

While looking at you, Joel adjusted the angle of his pelvis and ground down a little more into you. You could feel his entire outline of his cock right now, and God he felt good, and was rock hard. "You do this to me mama, just you. No one else. So quit your fussin' about it. Ya hear me? It's only you that I want in my fucking bed and no one else" he said with another delicious grind of his hips.

“It's you that I want.” *hip grind* “It's you that makes me happy.” *hip grind* “It's you that I wanna spend my life with.” *hip grind* “And it's you that I wanna fuck.” And with that admittance Joel crashed his lips into yours and kissed you with a deep hunger that he felt for you. As he skimmed your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to grant him easy access.

You both were so worked up that you couldn't stand it anymore. “Baby please” you panted. “Please, Joel, please.”

Hearing you say his name all wanton and needy like that unlocked something deep within his body. He had a primal urge now to have you. Joel quickly grabbed your shirt and ripped it open, which sent the buttons flying everywhere. He didn't care though, he desperately needed you.

Joel quickly started to devour your chest. Grabbing, sucking, and biting your nipples in a heated frenzy. He grabbed one of your legs and hitched it higher up on his hip to open you up. In a heated mess, Joel grabbed your thigh by the permanent scar that David had left. He dug his fingers into it while whispering in your ear “I'm gonna fucking mark you as mine properly, baby.” And that's when he felt it, you froze and started breathing erratically.

Joel slowly pulled back, realizing what he just did. He looked at you and saw a mixture of want and fear across your face. He just realized that you weren't fully out of your nightmare in your head. “Baby, I- I didn't mean it the way that came out.”

“I know” was all you said, taking a slow shaky breath.

“Fuck” Joel groaned as he sat up, dragging a hand down his face at his fuck up that he just did. “You know, I'd love a fucking smoke right about now” he said out loud, more to himself than you.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Joel asked.

“Why do you wanna have a cigarette now? Don't people usually smoke after sex, not when this shit happens” you say, jestering in-between the two of you.

“I don't know, maybe cause I'm embarrassed and now nervous.”

“Wh-”

“Are we now playing 20 fucking questions, y/n. Jesus.” Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No Joel we're not” you snap. “I'm just trying to understand and salvage this fucking night. So why did you stop?”

“I think that's pretty obvious by the look you're still giving me.”

“What look?”

“Jesus, we are playing 20 questions. Y/n, just-”

“So help me God Joel, if you fucking tell me to leave it or drop it I swear to God, that the knife that is on your side of the bed will be stuck in your damn heart. So unless you wanna truly die tonight, I suggest you fucking start talking.” you said, snapping hard at Joel.

Joel looked down at you with a smirk on his face. There was that attitude that he knew and loved from you. Your anger and frustration was like an amazing fire, one that if Joel wasn't careful, would burn him to death. But the longer he sat there tonight, looking at you, the more he truly didn't care. He'd welcome the chance to get burned by your flames tonight. At least it’d make him feel alive, and that's something that he hasn't truly felt for a long time.

“I'd like to see you try it” Joel said, bending down to whisper close to you. “I don't think you have the fucking guts to do it.” As the stare down between Joel and you continued, you noticed that Joel widened his smirk. “Just as I thought,” he said, “you don't have the guts. You're all talk, and no fucking do y/n. And I'm not surprised. I honestly thought that you'd have the guts to do what you needed to do to survive. Apparently I was wrong.”

Joel knew he was playing a deadly game with you. But he didn't care, he wanted to snap you out of this problem you kept having thinking that you weren't good enough for him. So if he had to bite hard and yank hard on the Lion's tail to get a reaction, then that's what he was going to do. After a brief moment of hesitation, Joel saw something snap inside of you. In a blink of an eye he watched your calm exterior morph into something like an intense rage. You flung yourself on him and grabbed his knife. The two of you wrestled for a moment until Joel was finally on his back, his hands up in surrender as you held the knife to his throat.

Joel laid there with blown out pupils watching you. This form of anger turned him on, and made his dick twitch in his pants. Apparently you did have the balls to take him on. As Joel laid there he watched your outer exterior falter, and watched you start to second guess yourself. “Do it,” Joel said. “Y/n if you're gonna do it, don't think about it, just do it” he growled.

“I-I” you said, shaking your head.

“Come on baby, just do it” he said, looking at you with concern in his eyes as yours welled up with tears. “Baby, if you think that all men are like Dave, then fucking slice my throat. Let me go see my daughter, let me have my baby girl back. Just do it.” To emphasize his point Joel grabbed your wrist and pushed the knife into his neck more, but not where it was cutting him yet.

“Why?” you sobbed holding tight to the knife, but not letting go. “Why beg me, why not just do it yourself if you don't want to be here? Why do you need me?”

When Joel looked into your soft eyes it was then that he knew you couldn’t see it. That you couldn’t see that he loved you. He didn’t want to open his heart and say those three little words yet, but he felt it. He loved you. But he, himself, was also drowning in emotion at this fact, just like you were.

“Baby, if you can’t see why, then I’ve really fucked up. If ya can't see why I want you darlin’, then I don’t deserve you in my life. I’m not Dave honey, I never have been, nor ever will be. If you can’t see that then please honey, just let me go and see my daughter. I don’t want to be in a world where you think I’m a fucking monster. Please.”

Joel could see the war that was going on in your head, the struggle of wanting to say that every guy was like Dave and then not. You knew that Joel was nothing like Dave, but still you couldn't be sure. Joel was moody, quiet, and sometimes cold. But even in the coldest of moments Joel still found compassion for you. He looked out for you and even protected you by killing Dave, when Dave attempted to take everything from you. Truth is, you were scared to death. You were scared to death to give yourself completely to someone else for fear that he'd do exactly what Dave did. That he'd lie and then destroy you.

As you sat there straddling Joel, holding the knife to his throat, you felt a horrible burn collect in the back of your throat. Eventually you couldn't hold it in any longer and a horrible sob escaped your mouth. Your mind was fighting hard to break free from the abuse that had happened from Dave.

Joel could see you struggle with these emotions, as you wore them plain as day on your skin, unable to hide them. When Joel felt your grip on the knife falter he gently grabbed you and flipped you on your back. “I don’t want to be in a world where you hate me darlin’” Joel said, while putting the knife down and grabbing your hip to hitch it higher to open you up. He slowly moved his one hand down to trace the outline of your slit through your panties, his other hand held your hands above your head.

“You're denched, baby” Joel whispered as he rested his forehead against yours while slowly circling your clit on the outside of your panties. “I don’t want to live in a fucking world where someone else gets to touch this mama.” Joel slowly moved from your clit down to the center of your weeping hole and then back up to your clit.

“Fuck baby, I need you” Joel said, panting at how turned on he felt. “Something tells me that you need me too” and with that Joel yanked your panties to the side as he crashed his lips onto yours. He quickly made fast work on your clit, alternating between feather light tickles to heavy circles.

“We're going to stop working each other up darlin’” Joel said, making fast work of your clit. “I can’t do it anymore baby. I fucking need you.” And with that admittance Joel deepened his kiss. You two sat like that. Joel overtop of you holding your wrists above your head, while he slowly licked into your mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile his other hand kept circling your clit, trying to give you release.

“Joel, please I need to-”

“I know baby, I know. Let it happen, honey. Trust me, I got you. Let go.” And with that Joel felt your clit swell then spasm hard as your back arched off the bed. You sobbed and bucked your hips up hard against his hand, chasing your high, moaning Joel's name. When overstimulation started Joel released your hands and started to just rock back and forth into you. Grinding his hard bulge into your drenched heat. Joel had removed his hand from your clit, and placed it on your head, to caress your head. He also continued to deepen his kiss in your mouth. The two of you sat there for several minutes, exploring each other's mouth while Joel slowly rocked his hips into you.

Joel kept rocking into you, showing you how much he cared, how much he loved you. He couldn't say the words yet to you, soon, I'll tell her soon, he thought. The longer he made out with you, the more you both started to pant. You moved your hand down and slid Joel's pants off his hips as you started rubbing his swollen member. “Aw darlin', fuck” Joel said when you wrapped your hand around his head and gently squeezed. “Please baby, don't tease. I can't, I can't, fuck mama, don't tease me,” Joel panted and begged you to continue.

“Baby, shhh” you said as you stilled your movements. You immediately heard Joel groan in frustration, with his eyes closed, and his forehead touching yours. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take real good care of you.” With looking down at Joel you noticed that he was throbbing hard against your hand. “Jesus Joel, does that hurt baby?” you asked running your thumb gently over the swollen reddened tip. As you did you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. “I’m gonna take care of this baby, I’ll make it feel better” you cooed, slowly stroking him again.

“God please” Joel begged, breathless, panting hard when he looked into your eyes.

“What? What do you need Joel, tell me honey and I’ll do it.”

After a few more slow twists of your hand at the reddened tip of his cock you heard Joel let out a strangled groan followed by a breathy “Don't. Fa-fucking. St-Stop.”

“I won't, baby, if you promise to use your fingers. Joel fingers- ah- f-fuck me with your fingers. I want them deep baby. I promise though, I won’t stop touching you” you said panting.

Joel quickly shifted and yanked your panties all the way down. He also quickly removed his shirt, and finished taking off his pants the rest of the way. He wanted to feel skin on skin contact with you. When he looked at you he saw that you had blown wide pupils. “Come here and let me fuck you with my hand, Joel” you said in a sultery voice.

“Fuck woman, if ya talk like that you’re gonna kill me” Joel said, panting and quickly getting situated back between your legs.

Joel and you quickly found a rhythm. You stroked him while he fingered you. Joel also explored you with his mouth, kissing you passionately. The longer it went, the more the two of you were panting heavily and rutting hard against each other.

“God Joel, baby I need-”

“What do you need darlin’, come on tell me- fuck” he said moaning as you stroked him faster.

“I need to come Joel, I need it so bad” you whined.

“You’re gonna cum for me darlin’, gonna give me another one?”

“Joel fuck, baby” you said as Joel pulled your leg up to widen you out for him. He reached deep within you at the spongy part inside and your eyes rolled back in your head with a long moan.

“Yeah mama, daddy knows where that fucking G-spot is. Come on baby, soak daddy’s fingers with that beautiful pussy. Pretend it’s my cock darlin’. Come on, soak ‘em” Joel said growling in your ear as he picked up the pace fucking you hard and fast in your drenched tight hole. He added a second finger and your eyes rolled back in your head, hand stumbling trying to stroke his cock fast through it.

“Joel I can’t” you said as you attempted to relax with pleasure, plus try to get him off.

“Let me do it mama, just hold your hand on my cock and I’ll do the rest. I’ll fuck your hand as I fuck this pussy full with my fingers. Pretend I’m inside of you baby, now come on, let daddy fuck ya good.”

Joel picked up the pace, rutting hard into your hand chasing his own high. “Fuck baby, god you feel so damn good, mama. I haven’t- fuck- I haven’t fucked myself since I came in that pretty little pussy last time” Joel admitted out loud.

“Oh baby, fuck. Right there. Joel, honey, you need to come. Damn it. Come on Joel, you need to come with me, I'm almost there. God, Joel. Blow your load on me, let me see it.”

“Filthy fucking woman” Joel growled, snapping his hand and hips hard into you. “Filthy fucking mouth, I’m gonna fuck that beautiful mouth real soon. Make you take my cock all the way back like you’re meant to. Fuck y/n, I’m close, you’re gonna need to come soon darlin’, I can’t wait much longer.” You felt Joel’s thrusts become sloppy in your hands, so you added a bit of pressure and started moving your wrist faster to get him there sooner.

“Fuck- babe. Shit, I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna-” Joel said while putting his forehead against yours as he came with a loud groan.

“Come Joel, come for me baby” you said while you felt him swell and then release his cum all over your hand and stomach. You followed him over the edge with your own release, coating his fingers as he kept pumping them in and out of you.

When Joel finally found release he felt his vision go white as his balls drained of all his pent up anger, frustration, and energy that he had from not being able to come since the last time you two had sex. As he came he heard himself swearing while gently rocking back and forth into your hand as white rope after white rope of his seed came out of him. When his cock was finally spent, and he started to soften, he opened his eyes.

“Hey you” you said as you both came back down to Earth. “You ok, did I do that ok? Was I too-”

“Baby, stop. That was- fuck woman. That was amazing.” Joel said as he continued to slowly pant, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Good,” you said while kissing his forehead, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“How about you?” Joel said while picking his head up and slowly removing his fingers from your soaked cunt. “Did that-”

“Fuck Joel, that felt amazing” you said while laughing and blushing.

“Good baby, so glad to hear.” he said, giving you a slow kiss to your mouth. When he was done he rolled onto his back and slowly calmed his breathing.

“We’re a mess Joel” you said laughing at how soaked you and him were with both sweat and both of your releases.

“Give me a minute for the blood to go back to my brain honey, and then I’ll get up and get us a towel to clean up with.”

“Has it really been that long for you? That you haven’t come since we had sex in the woods a few months back?” you asked while you gently nudged him.

“I said that out loud? Fuck” Joel said with a groan. “Yeah baby, it is, or was,” he said while sitting up and slowly standing up. Joel exited the room and went to the bathroom to clean up. After he was done cleaning himself up he came in with a wet washcloth and a dry towel and slowly cleaned you up. When he was finished he placed them in the dirty clothes pile, making a mental note to make sure he washed them in the sink with soap and water later.

He laid down next to you in bed, still panting as he slowly came down from his high. He only had his pajama pants on, and not his t-shirt. You had already grabbed his t-shirt and had put it on. “C’mere” he said while pulling you close to him and tucking you on your side, against his chest.

As you laid there and listened to him breathing, you heard that it was starting to slow and even out. “Did you mean what you said?” you gently whispered into the night.

“About what?” Joel said, with sleep lacing his voice.

“That I’m not a doormat, that you want me to stay with you, and that you only want me in your bed?” After Joel didn't respond you said “just forget that I-”

With a sigh Joel said, “Baby.” When you didn’t acknowledge him, he gripped you tighter saying “y/n.” Finally when you looked up at his face you saw that he was looking down at you seriously. “I meant every fucking word that I said. You're not a doormat and you belong in this bed with me, and only me. Now go to sleep.” Joel then tucked you into him once again.

After a moment you said in the darkness “I love you Joel” and with that, you fell asleep. When Joel knew that you were sleeping he also said out loud “I love you too sweetheart, always have and always will.” Joel knew that he had to tell you soon that he loved you. But this admission in the dark, when you were softly sleeping in his arms, was good enough for now. As sleep finally took Joel he thought to himself I love you and you’re forever mine.

That was the first night the both of you had a decent night's sleep since this whole thing started. You both were wrapped up tight in each other's arms, not letting go, locking the world out for just one night. If you could describe the feeling you both felt, that feeling would be home. You felt like you were at home, safe in each other's arms. And that was something worth fighting for.

-End chapter-

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