#right salon management | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkshort · 3 months ago

Text

Swept Away | Chapter 4: Tropical Heat

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first day on Glenn's yacht is much more dramatic than you originally expect.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, intoxication, reader gets drunk and snippy, mentions of past infidelity, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, one tiny daddy reference, nausea/vomiting, joel gets mean but he makes up for it (he sucks at feelings)

WC: 8.5K

Series Masterlist

"I'm so excited for tomorrow. Glenn's yacht is supposed to be massive. Like, full crew, multiple levels. The type you'd usually charter but he actually owns it." Zoe sighed dreamily next to you at the hotel salon. You were listening but your eyes were pinned on your nails, watching as the technician managed to make your hands look like they were out of a catalogue in less than an hour.

"Yeah, that - it sounds really cool," you replied. "Should be fun. Joel said there's some tiny islands we might check out or something."

Zoe nodded excitedly. "Zach said there's one called Monu Island. We're supposed to have dinner there the first night."

"Dinner? How?" you asked. She looked at you like you had two heads.

"The crew brings the stuff to shore for us and cooks?" she said as if she were explaining how to ride a bike. Shit. You probably should have known something like that if you were pretending to be in the upper, upper class.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," you said with a nervous laugh, "I meant how are they going to get us off that yacht? The more I keep hearing about it, the harder it's going to be to pull me away from it."

Zoe giggled and you inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Maybe you can convince Joel buy one for yourselves. He can certainly afford it," she told you with a wink.

"Yeah, and Zach can't?"

She shrugged, smile still stretched across her face but you could see something shifting in her eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

You nodded and leaned a little closer.

"I don't think Zach's doing very well. Business-wise."

Your eyes widened, encouraging her to continue.

"I don't know for sure, but I have overheard a few conversations and I get the feeling if he doesn't win this bid, his hotel chain is done for."

"Oh, no," you breathed, brows crinkling with concern. "Zoe, I'm so sorry."

She gave you a confused look but quickly recovered. "Oh, thanks. It's no big deal, you know. I'll be just fine."

What did that mean? Zoe would be just fine if Zach went bankrupt? How?

You wanted to press her further but you could tell the door closed. She was looking down at her freshly manicured nails with a huge smile then held them up to your face and wiggled them around.

"What do you think?"

She had picked a white nail polish with a faint hint of sparkle. The color did look very nice against her tanned skin and you told her so right when your technician released your hands, announcing you were all set. Pulling your fingers from the blue light, you admired them up close.

"Alright, I'll admit it. I questioned your color choice before but damn, that looks so pretty on you," Zoe said enviously as she examined your hot pink nails with a glitter top coat.

"Thanks," you gushed, hardly able to tear your eyes away after you left the salon and headed for the elevators. You could count on one hand how many times you ever got your nails done in the past and it was always for a special occasion: prom, a wedding... maybe once when someone got you a gift certificate for Christmas. It felt like such a treat and it gave you a nice little confidence boost.

You waved to Zoe when she got off on her floor, vowing to see each other in the morning bright and early on the dock, then rode the elevator the rest of the way to your floor.

It was difficult to contain your excitement when you entered the room, but you remained quiet because you heard Joel's voice carrying from the living room. He had someone on speaker who was discussing budgets and employee turnover so you snuck past him and headed towards your room to pack.

How much does one person need for two days? Not a lot, probably. But you weren't very clear on the dress code. Was this going to be casual? You already noticed if Glenn organizes the parties, the vibe is much more relaxed but Mary tends to make it a little more formal when she handles things.

After packing a swimsuit, two coverups, one set of pajamas (which you agonized over when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Joel), and three different options for daytime wear, you went back out into the living room to see if Joel would know what you should pack for the evenings.

"Joel?" you asked softly when you spotted him sitting quietly on the couch with his eyes closed. He tilted his head to the side and slowly opened his eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked. He nodded and stood with a groan.

"Just tired," he said right when his laptop chirped with two new emails. He began to walk towards the table but you were closer. You bravely closed his laptop with two fingers and he froze.

"C'mon, what're you doin'?" he asked, taking another step, but you shook your head and leaned forward, resting your weight on the arm that was holding his computer closed.

"You need to take a break," you told him firmly. He scowled and crossed his arms.

"I'll be takin' a break when we're on the damn yacht."

"Taking a break on the weekend is a given. You work around the clock, Joel, you need to slow down."

"I don't got time for this," he told you with a shake of his head. "I'm busy, I got a company to run."

"Well that's just too bad because I have dresses to try on and I need help picking ones to pack," you told him just as sternly. His eyes flickered up to yours and you could practically see the gears in his head turning. "I think that's far more important than some emails, don't you think?"

His mouth twitched and you could see his face soften and you knew you had him.

"Fine. Ten minutes," he relented. You grinned and skipped off to your room, and only when your back was turned did he allow himself to smile.

Joel sat patiently on your bed while you tried on the handful of dresses you grabbed and put in the bathroom, waltzing back into your room every few minutes with a new one to show him.

"Darlin', I already told you. You look good in all of these."

"Yeah, but which ones are your favorites?" you pressed, doing a little twirl so he could see the back of the pink dress you were currently wearing. "And what will we be doing? Like, how formal are these evenings going to be?"

He shook his head, his eyes glued to the curve of your back when you spun around again. "Not that formal. One night we'll be on the beach, the other night just on the deck."

You nodded and tapped your chin with your finger. Any of the dresses you had would do now that he told you it wasn't that formal, but you were pushing twenty minutes of no laptop or cell phone useage and you really wanted him to take a longer break from work, so you had an idea.

"Okay, just one more. I'll be right back," you told him, scurrying off to the bathroom to slip into a deep purple dress that just so happened to be the shortest one in the bunch by a mile. You weren't sure what Joel's assistant was thinking buying you something so short and tight. When you looked in the mirror, the fabric clung to your curves, leaving very little to the imagination with only two thin spaghetti straps to hold it up.

Obviously it was too inappropriate to wear on the yacht, but that didn't stop you from taking a deep, nervous breath and strolling back into your bedroom with what you hoped was an air of innocence.

He was leaning back on his elbows when you walked in, eyes drifting around your room and taking note of the items you kept on your nightstand, but when he saw what you were wearing he straightened right up.

"What do you think?" you asked as you twirled, but that time you made sure to take it slow.

"It's, uh..." his throat when dry when he saw how perfectly the dress hugged your ass and he had to clear his throat. "Nice," he finally managed to say. You fought back a smirk when you heard the strain in his voice.

"Yeah?" you asked, looking down at the dress. "I don't know, the material is a little rough."

Joel swallowed when you ran your hands slowly down the fabric, your palms traversing over your soft curves, making his fingers twitch.

As if you read his mind, you looked back up at him with a little pout and asked, "you wanna feel?"

Without hesitation, he spread his knees and beckoned you over with two fingers. You grinned and stepped forward, stopping when you stood between his legs, his mouth mere inches away from your stomach.

You could feel his hot breath through the dress and you had to suppress a tingle down your spine, but when he lifted his hands to cup the backs of your bare thighs, you couldn't hide your reaction that time. You made a little noise in the back of your throat when his fingers squeezed your legs and he looked up at you, eyes so dark and filled with lust that it took your breath away.

"This okay?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, your hands coming up to his shoulders so you could balance yourself. His fingers inched up your legs slowly, tentatively exploring without giving into his deepest desires. But fuck... if he wanted to, you would have let him.

He slid his hands up the sides of your thighs, his fingers catching a bit on the hem of your dress before reaching your hips. He caressed the material there with both hands, each of you still pretending as if the fabric of the dress was any concern.

"See what I mean?" you whispered. Slowly, he nodded, but his eyes remained pinned on your body, his gaze drinking in every inch of you, committing you to memory.

"Fuck, you look good," he murmured as if it pained him, letting the facade slip for a moment. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you began to play with the curls on the back of his head. He tilted his chin to look up at you, his lips parted and his cheeks a little flushed. Nothing else had happened since that afternoon in the ocean when he kissed you other than leaving you completely confused about the nature of your relationship. But in that moment, you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again, to feel that spark of electricity over your skin, so you leaned down a fraction, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, making your intention crystal clear.

Just as you were about to brush your lips against his, he pulled his head away and dropped his hands. Immediately, you straightened back up, embarrassment warming your face while you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

"We can't," was all he said, eyes drifting to look everywhere except at you. You nodded and quickly stepped back, shame coursing through your veins.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking a bit. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself then hurried out of the room to get changed.

Joel called your name, asking you to come back, but you were too ashamed. Instead, you slipped back into the bathroom and practically ripped the purple dress off out of anger, vowing to tuck it way back into the depths of your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it the entire rest of the trip.

By the following morning, you forced yourself to brush off the awkwardness with Joel from the day before. You had three more weeks to spend with him pretending to be his fianceé and you refused to let one uncomfortable situation dictate the rest of your time there. So you plastered on a big smile for him the next morning when you exited your room with your bags in each hand. You could tell he wasn't sure how to react. He tiptoed lightly around you, making sure he didn't even accidentally touch you as you both moved around the hotel room collecting everything you would need.

In the elevator ride down to the lobby, he tried to bring it up but you cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

"Did you remember your seasick medication?"

He floundered for a moment, scanning your face for any sign of bitterness, but he found none. If you wanted to pretend it never happened, that was fine by him.

"Yeah," he finally said, and you nodded before turning to stare straight ahead at the closed elevator doors.

He didn't try to mention it again.

When you arrived at the dock with the sun just beginning to peek over the water, casting the ocean in a beautiful golden hue, you felt your mood instantly improve. You were in fucking paradise and nothing was going to ruin that for you.

The crew was loading up your belongings and you were chatting with Glenn and Mary about how excited you were when Glenn's phone pinged in his hand.

He tugged his glasses out of his shirt pocket so he could read the text and he let out a disappointed groan.

"Ian's got food poisoning, Harry says," he told the three of you, "they can't make it. That's a damn shame."

"Oh, that's terrible. I hope it's not too serious," Mary said sympathetically.

You heard the telltale sound of heels tapping on the wooden planks behind you and you turned around to see the rest of the couples, along with Trevor and Brooks, arriving. The crew hurried past to assist with their bags and for the first time all day, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist. Your muscles stiffened at first and he felt it. Guilt washed over him before he cleared his throat and lifted his other hand in greeting. Zoe spotted you and waved excitedly, her energy just as infectious in the early morning hours.

When you spotted Tammy a few yards behind Zoe, your smile faltered a bit. You still hadn't brought up what you learned to Joel. Did you even have a right to know about his past with Tammy? You thought you did given how it could blow your cover, but maybe it was just gossip.

Still, it got under your skin.

When Zoe greeted you with a hug, you caught the look of distaste Tammy shot to Lynne before turning her head to gaze out over the ocean. It couldn't just be in your head at this point. There was definitely something going on with these women that you were not privy to yet.

Joel took your hand and lead you aboard the yacht, once again feeling the discomfort at his touch radiating off you.

He handled everything all wrong, he knew that almost immediately. It was all his fault. He was weak that day in the ocean and couldn't stop himself from kissing you, and now you were confused and hurt, but there was a reason he didn't want a traditional sugar baby agreement. He needed to keep his eye on the prize and stay focused, not standing there pretending to admire the lavish sitting room Glenn was showing everyone while wondering if you were wearing the lingerie he purchased for you.

How the hell did you manage to weave your way into his psyche so fast?

After the tour of the yacht, which was luxurious and had three levels, you were shown your private rooms, all of which included your own bathroom and a window so you could admire the sea from bed.

Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he looked around while you began to unpack a few of your things.

"I can sleep on the floor," he said. Your back was to him but he saw your hands freeze inside your bag before you took a deep breath and continued to pull out your toiletries.

"Don't be ridiculous. We can manage two nights in the same bed."

Even though you couldn't see him, he nodded anyway. He should just say it. Say he's sorry. Sorry for all of it. Sorry for leading you on, sorry for hurting your feelings, sorry for staring at your legs and wondering what they would feel like wrapped around his head.

The guests slowly made their way into the indoor sitting area once they settled in. If there wasn't an entire wall made of glass so you could look out the back of the yacht, you would have thought you were in another mansion. The carpet was plush and white under your feet. When you saw how pristine it was, you almost wanted to ask if you should take your sandals off, but instead you took Joel's lead and left them on.

There were three long, white couches that formed a U shape around a large, cherry wood coffee table. Above your heads the ceiling was dotted and lined with soft lights, giving the whole room a very warm and inviting glow. Abstract art hung on the walls but there wasn't much space: any wall that bordered the sea was made of glass. And across from the couches, built up against an interior wall was a bar that appeared to be stocked with every liquor and mixer known to man.

The crew had poured glasses of champagne and mimosas and left them on the bar. They were standing at attention against the wall near the kitchen, waiting to jump into action if need be.

Joel picked up two mimosas and handed you one. You nearly declined when you noted the early hour but decided to take it anyway with a quiet thanks.

"Meant to tell you, I like your nails," Joel said, pointing to your fingers wrapped around your glass. You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your glittery, hot pink nails.

"Thanks," you said, wishing you felt as excited about them as you were yesterday.

Glenn clapped his hands loudly, commanding the attention of the room. He let everyone know breakfast would be served on the dining room on the deck in ten minutes and encouraged people to grab a drink before heading out.

The moment the glass doors were opened, your senses were overcome with fresh, sea-salt air and an occasional fine mist that was being vented above the partially enclosed area.

Everyone found a seat around the square table that was already set with beautiful white plates trimmed in gold with matching bowls and mugs. When the crew began to place trays of fruit, baked goods, meats, eggs, and yogurt on the table, you leaned into Joel and tapped his shoulder.

"Did you take your medicine?" you whispered.

He smiled and put his glass down so he could fish the bottle of pills from his pocket.

"Thank you. That woulda been ugly," he joked, making you giggle before reaching for the tray of fruit. His chest warmed at the sound, pleased to see you smiling again but damn near giddy that he was the one to make you laugh.

You weren't terribly hungry but you nibbled at some fruit and yogurt, knowing you should at least try to eat something if you were expected to keep up with the way the group drank.

After about an hour at the table where you nursed the same mimosa Joel had given you earlier, Glenn stood up and suggested the men go to the top floor for cigars and poker.

"Looks like it's just us, ladies," Mary said gleefully when all the men began to place their cloth napkins on the table and, collecting their own drinks, stood to follow Glenn up the stairs.

"You good?" Joel asked softly before he left. You quickly nodded and shooed him off. You were still feeling rather vulnerable from being shot down the day before but you could feel yourself coming around. Maybe some distance and distraction would help.

If only you knew what the day had in store.

By noon the sun was blazing, the heat seared your skin as you laid out on your lounge chair with the other women. You could smell the faint hint of cigar smoke and hear the laughter from the men up above, but you couldn't see them from where you were. Occasionally you would hear Joel's voice, his southern twang becoming deeper and louder the more he drank and you found yourself smiling.

You were at least three drinks deep and you felt completely relaxed. All your concerns drifted away, getting twisted in the breeze and floating over the water. You even managed to find Tammy somewhat tolerable as you listened to her tell the group about her teenage son and a girl he was dating.

Maybe Zoe was wrong. Maybe it was just a rumor. Tammy seemed to be happy and fulfilled. She had what appeared to be a very strong marriage with Scott and they had two boys. By all accounts, they appeared to be a very happy family.

"I think I'm gonna take a break in the shade," Zoe announced, fanning herself while she picked up her things.

"Okay, dear. There should be chilled bottles of water out but if not, just ask the bartender. He can get you whatever you need," Mary told her while she adjusted her enormous sun hat.

"I think I'll join you," you said, suddenly feeling like your mouth was coated in sand. You couldn't even remember drinking any water since the hotel that morning.

The three other women waved politely when you stood and followed Zoe back inside where the air conditioning embraced you like an old friend.

"Oh, god, that feels nice," you groaned. The room was empty except for one bartender who was taking stock of the liquor with a clipboard. He quickly set it aside when Zoe approached and asked for two waters. You picked a couch and set your things down next to you with a sigh, then thanked Zoe when she handed you a frosted glass bottle of water.

Both of you practically chugged your respective drinks in under a minute, then giggled when you realized how crazy you must have looked.

"We gotta pace ourselves," Zoe said with a grin and a shake of her head. "It's gonna be a long night. Zach said we aren't supposed to reach the island til six, and with the time it will take for the crew to set up and cook, we'll be eating dinner late."

"That means we'll be getting back here even later," you said, finishing her thought.

She nodded and tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes a little glassy and her cheeks a little pink, either from the sun or alcohol or both. But based on the way she couldn't stop laughing at the smallest thing, you suspected alcohol was the bigger reason. When she glanced at you and erupted into a fit of giggles again without having to say a word, you knew for sure she was a little past tipsy.

"What?" you laughed, her silly mood too contagious to resist.

"Nothing, nothing," she said with a wave, then seemed to think about it for a second before giving you a mischievous grin and leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth in an attempt to muffle her voice, but it didn't work.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

She giggled again, slapping her palm over her mouth and tucking her chin against her chest. You frowned and laughed at how ridiculous she was acting and wondered what on earth she was about to say.

She cupped her hand over her mouth again and whispered loudly, "how is Joel in bed?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at her question. Instantly, images and daydreams of what you thought Joel would be like in bed flashed across your mind. What the weight of his body would feel like pressed against yours, pushing you into the mattress. How his lips would feel wrapped around your nipple, his teeth teasing and pinching your skin. Would he kiss you slow and deep or passionate and needy? Would he groan your name when he buried his cock deep inside you? What was his favorite position?

All these things and more you had found yourself wondering more times than you could count since a few days ago in the ocean. He had completely taken over your mind to the point where you could hardly remember the girl you were when you first met, sitting in his office ready to storm out because of his abrupt and seemingly unpleasant nature.

You cleared your throat as you bought some time to scrounge up a lie.

"He's... good. Really good," you added. She nodded excitedly and rolled her wrist, urging you to continue. "He's attentive and... he doesn't rush." You could feel your cheeks heating up when you realized you were just telling her what you wished he was like, what you wished any of the men you had been with were like, only to always fall short in some way or another. "I'm not saying he can't be-" you glanced over your shoulder before lowering your voice, "rougher, because he can. There's been times I can hardly move after," you giggled and she gasped enthusiastically. "But he's always so sweet when we're done. He takes such good care of me, gets me whatever I need, tells me how beautiful I am." You swallowed, feeling only slightly pathetic at how you were turning yourself on with your own lies.

"How about Zach? What's he like?" you asked, changing the subject. Her face fell and she waved you off before taking another sip of water.

"Girl, c'mon, you know the answer to that."

Now it was your turn to gasp but the corners of your mouth twitched into a playful smile.

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes at you and sighed. "You've seen him. He's not hiding anything spectacular, I promise you that."

Zach was significantly older than Zoe. Their age difference especially showed when he stood after sitting for a while, groaning deeply and usually needing a hand to steady himself, or when his phone alarm went off at various times during the day, volume practically maxed out, reminding him to take some pill. But you never got the impression Zoe was unhappy until now.

"So why are you with him?" you asked. Of course, you had to assume his money had something to do with it, but her answer was still not what you expected.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked conspiratorially. You nodded and leaned forward. Zoe glanced around to make sure nobody else snuck into the massive sitting room before she whispered, "I'm a sugar baby."

"Y-you're... what?" you asked, your voice wavering. Fuck, you really wished you didn't have that last mojito. You were trying to keep your cool but your vision was swimming and your mind was buzzing.

"I think Tammy and Lynne suspect something. I think that's why they don't like me," she said, leaning back and gazing out to the ocean. "Nobody knows for sure, you can't say a word," she said, fear suddenly gripping her. "If Glenn found out, it would be over for Zach. Glenn holds way too much weight on family shit. He already isn't thrilled with our age difference," she sighed, gazing down at her freshly manicured nails. "But between you and me, I hope he doesn't get this land. He wouldn't be able to afford me anymore. Like, I want what's best for him and I want him to be happy, but this relationship is running its course, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," you breathed, "wow, I had no idea."

She shrugged and picked up her phone. "It's really not a bad gig, but it would be a hell of a lot better if the guys looked like Joel instead of Zach," she giggled.

You laughed softly and took another sip of your water, your mind reeling. The pressure to pull off this little stint was mounting. Joel wasn't the only one who noticed Glenn was a man with family values and tried to do the exact same thing, and now more than ever Joel's alleged affair with Tammy seemed like a huge loose end that could jeopardize your whole lie.

Your nerves got the best of you. Looking back on it, you should have realized that before having two more drinks with lunch, but Zoe's bombshell left you rattled and you got carried away.

Around four in the afternoon, the men returned from the upper deck with their skin pink and their shirts a little damp from sweat, but they were all smiles when they stepped out onto the deck to find their partners with the exception of Glenn's sons, who came by themselves.

Joel didn't notice at first how tipsy you were because you did your best to hide behind a pair of sunglasses and a large hat. He sat down on the lounge chair near yours, looking like he had a couple drinks himself but not nearly as many as you. He appeared relaxed and at ease, no doubt pleased by whatever progress he made with Glenn in the past few hours.

"How's everythin' goin' down here?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the crowd of people who were beginning to mingle.

"Good," you said, "I found out some very interesting information that-" you hiccupped and covered your mouth, "that you would find interesting."

He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Interesting information that I would find interesting?"

"Mhmm," you said, nodding vigorously this time. "I will tell you later," you added, unnecessarily enunciating each word, "when we're alone," you whispered, not realizing your voice was still rather loud. It didn't matter anyway, nobody could overhear you when the guests were all breaking up into groups and talking over each other, but still.

He grinned and glanced around the deck, "Alright, then," he replied. He was about to say more when his eyes landed on someone over your shoulder and he stiffened. You were too slow on the uptake to see what Tammy was mouthing to him, but when he subtly nodded and stood up, you glanced behind you to see her walking discreetly into the yacht, leaving her clueless husband behind.

"I'll be right back," he said to you, and before you could say anything to stop him, he strolled off in her wake, leaving you all alone.

You could blame the alcohol and pretend you weren't jealous, but you were absolutely fuming. Zoe had to be right. How could he be so careless? Did he really think nobody would notice? How could he not tell you about his history with Tammy when it could all blow up in your faces?

Then something occurred to you that made your stomach roll and you had to take a few deep breaths to fight back the wave of nausea.

What if they were still having an affair?

Is that why he didn't want to take things further with you? We can't, he had said. Was he fucking another man's wife this entire time?

You never felt so stupid in your life. Of course, that's what it was. No wonder he put a clause in your contract stating that sex was not to be part of the agreement. How fucking pathetic of him to act so faithful to another man's wife.

What if he was fucking her right now?

You stood up too quickly and lost your balance, but fortunately an arm shot out to steady you.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up over your sunglasses to find Brooks, one of Glenn's sons, standing there with his hand wrapped around your arm looking concerned.

Quickly, you shook your head and forced a smile. "Yeah, the sun got to me, I think," you told him, then after another moment you realized his grip around your bicep hadn't loosened. Your eyes slowly drifted down to his hand and you gave your arm a little tug. Finally, he released you and you gave him a polite chuckle before fixing your cover up so you would feel less exposed in your bikini under his gaze.

"My dad says we should be reaching the island soon," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his board shorts. They were neon blue and hung low on his hips. Almost too low, as if he were trying to draw your attention to it.

"Yeah, it sounds great. Should be fun," you mumbled, glancing around the deck, still not finding Joel or Tammy.

"Ever been here before?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. You shook your head.

"To Fiji? No," you answered.

"I'm surprised. It's a pretty common vacation spot for people in Joel's circle," Brooks said. If you were a little less distracted you might have picked up on the fact that he said Joel's circle and not your circle, but you didn't. You were too fixated on your anger and you were fueled by one too many drinks.

"Yeah - would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom," you said, gathering your things in your arms.

"Sure thing," he said, taking a step back so you could brush past him. "See you at dinner."

You gave him what you hoped was a polite wave before storming towards the glass doors that led into the yacht, but just when you were a few feet away, the door swung open and Tammy stepped out. It could have been your paranoia, but you thought she had a little smirk on her face when she passed by you and after that, all you saw was red.

You breezed through the sitting room. The only other people around were two servers who were quietly packing up dishware to take to the beach, then Joel suddenly appeared in the entryway that led back to your room wearing a different shirt than before and you clenched your teeth.

"Hey, was just comin' to get you," he said, not yet picking up on your anger. "You should get ready for dinner, we'll be there soon."

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms, uncaring that you could be overheard when you spat, "whatever you say, daddy," your tone clipped and dripping with disdain.

The muscles in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared when he finally sensed your energy. He looked up, catching the eye of one of the crew members, who quickly averted his gaze and pretended not to have overheard what you said, then grabbed your arm.

You had the presence of mind not to fight him and cause a scene, but once he hauled you halfway down the hallway towards some privacy, you wrenched your arm out of his hold.

"The hell's the matter with you?" he seethed. "Are you fuckin' drunk?"

You rolled your shoulder, trying to fix your coverup that slipped down your arm while staring daggers at him.

"What's the matter with me?" you repeated, "what about you? What are you doing? Do you really think nobody sees what's going on?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion and made a face. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

You took a menacing step forward and lowered your voice. "I'm talking about Tammy, Joel."

His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and you hardly had a chance to react before he grabbed your arm again and practically dragged you the rest of the way down the hall towards your room. Once you were safely inside, he slammed the door behind him and stalked over to you, making you stumble backwards in surprise.

"What the hell do you know 'bout that?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to push down the wave of envy that bubbled up. "So it is true."

"Answer my fuckin' question," he growled, his eyes steely and his breath coming in quick. You shrugged and tried your best not to look nervous while being the target of his wrath.

"That you're having an affair," you said simply.

He stared down at you for what felt like hours before he exhaled and stepped back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before murmuring, "who told you?"

"Zoe," you sneered, taking one step backwards so you could rest your head against the wall. "Guess that means Zach knows, too."

"Fuck," he grumbled, then dragged his palms down his face in agony. "Fuck!" he said again, but shouted it that time and pounded his fist on top of a dresser.

You watched him nervously as he paced around the room, his anger beginning to sober you up a bit.

"You should have told me," you snapped. He swiveled around to look at you, his jaw so tight he could have cracked a tooth. "You could have ruined this entire thing but you're lucky I was quick on my feet and covered for you."

"You only need to know what I say you need to know," he said darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. "You were hired to do a job, so fuckin' do it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw the look in his eye.

"I'm trying, but you-"

"No," he said, cutting you off and closing the distance between you. "You were hired to look pretty and act like you're in love with me. That's fuckin' it. Everythin' else is none of your goddamn business."

You were just digging your own grave at that point so you figured there was no harm in tossing one more barb his way.

"Suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to at least tell me why you left sex out of our arrangement, but at least I know now it's not me. It's 'cause you're getting it somewhere else."

He inhaled sharply, his scowl cutting you in half.

"That's what this is 'bout?" he asked, stepping even closer. "You got your feelin's hurt yesterday?" His tone implied insincere pity and it sent a jolt of embarrassment through you but you remained quiet and held his gaze. He somehow had managed to cage you in against the wall, his arms bracing around your head as he leaned in closer. You could now smell a hint of toothpaste on his breath from when he came in earlier, without you, and you couldn't stop your next words from tumbling out.

"Did you bring her back here and fuck her in the bed I'm going to sleep in tonight?"

He smirked. He fucking smirked and you never in your life wanted to slap someone more.

"Jealous, baby?" he cooed. You shook your head but he just continued to give you that smug look. "Oh, I think you are. And you know what else?" He was taunting you now and you should have pushed him away but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. He leaned in so his lips brushed against your ear when he whispered, "I think you would let me fuck you right now, if I wanted to."

Tears sprung up in your eyes unexpectedly so you quickly slid them shut. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of your humiliation.

Finally, he pushed himself off the wall and gave you space so you could breathe. With your eyes still closed, he spoke again from the other side of the room.

"I was gone ten minutes. Gimme some credit. I ain't fuckin' anyone in ten minutes."

You heard him yank open the closet and you managed to crack open your eyelids with a pathetic sniffle, watching as he tossed a black dress onto the bed.

"Get ready. We'll be leavin' for the island soon." Then disappeared through the door.

It only took about five minutes before Joel calmed down when the guilt crept in again. Once more he handled another situation with you as poorly as possible and to top it off, he was fairly certain he brought you to tears when he left.

He was so fucking stupid. He should have just told you the truth. He should have told you he hadn't slept with Tammy in over a year and what they had was over, but he just had to keep pushing and pushing. How did he keep making mistake after mistake? You weren't wrong. He should have given you a heads up about Tammy, but he never thought anyone else knew. And instead of admitting it, he lashed out, taking his anger out on you when it wasn't even your fault to begin with. It was his, for being careless and stupid enough for others to find out.

When you emerged from your shared room looking refreshed and fucking stunning in the dress he had rudely thrown onto the bed, he almost apologized. He wanted to, but one look at you told him you were not at all ready to hear it, so he swallowed his words and gave you some space. Well, as much space as he could allow when you were surrounded by ten other people on a deserted beach at sunset eating dinner.

He resisted the urge to drape his arm around the back of your chair or brush his fingers against yours where they rested on the table. Please forgive me, I'm sorry, he kept thinking every time he glanced your way, but you avoided all eye contact and focused on the conversation around you.

During dinner, he noticed you had not one but two more drinks and hardly touched a thing on your plate. He wanted to say something, he wanted to encourage you to at least eat a little more, but he couldn't risk setting you off again, especially in front of everyone. So he bit his tongue and smiled politely when he needed to but mentally he was scrambling to come up with a way to make things up to you.

You stretched your neck with a sigh at one point, drawing his attention, his eyes lingering on the way your fingers trailed down your throat, then watched when you pressed two fingertips into a sore spot on the base of your neck.

How could you ever think he wouldn't want you? Of course, he wanted you. Anyone in their right mind would want you. The second he laid eyes on you it was all he could think about. How could you not see that?

Fortunately, the entire group seemed to be tired so nobody really noticed or cared that you and Joel were not very talkative. On the boat ride back, he instinctively reached for your hand when the boat swayed a little in the choppy waters, but you quickly pulled your arm out of reach and turned away.

It was past ten and the waves were rockier than earlier. He wanted to thank you again for reminding him to take his motion sickness pill but he refrained. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to that part of the day and do everything over.

When the boat reached the yacht, you practically leapt off and jogged back inside, his heart sinking in his chest at your retreating form. He offered his good nights and slowly followed you with his head hung low and his hands shoved in his pockets, but when he finally reached your room he realized the real reason you had been in such a hurry.

The moment he opened the door he could hear you retching in the bathroom and his eyes widened. He closed the door behind him quickly and he rushed to the bathroom, pausing on the other side of the door, unsure what to do or say.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Does it sound like I'm alright?" you shot back before gagging once again. He winced.

"I'll get you some ginger ale and crackers," he said, spinning around the room until he found a mini refrigerator stocked with a few necessities. As expected, some seasick items were supplied, and he picked out a few things he thought might help. Setting them down on your end table, he turned around and scratched his chin.

While he waited for you to emerge, he got himself changed into more comfortable clothes and then went in search of your own pajamas to lay out for you when you were ready. In one of the drawers he found a few motion sickness bags and he left one out for you when an idea struck. Quickly, he rummaged through his pants from earlier and triumphantly pulled out a little plastic bottle of pills.

When was the last time he ever tried this hard for a woman?

Just as he was about to call out to you again, you swung open the door. Your face looked pale and your eyes were red but you remained defiant and refused to glance his way. You spotted the clothes he laid out for you, and then the items on your bedside, and he thought he saw a flicker of affection in your eyes before you blinked and it was gone.

"Here," he said, holding out the bottle for you. "Take one of these, it'll help."

You stared at it for a few moments as you weighed your options, then begrudgingly snatched it from his hand and tapped one out into your palm. Tossing the bottle onto his side of the bed, you swallowed the pill with the water he set out for you and picked up your pajamas before retreating back into the bathroom for some privacy.

By the time you had changed, Joel had already switched the television on low to some bright sitcom he thought you might like and had turned down the bed. He sat on his side of the mattress, shamefully staring down at his fingers laced together in his lap, then glanced up when he heard the door open and the light turn off.

"Thank you," you murmured before sliding into bed and pulling the covers up to your chin.

"You're welcome," he said softly. He watched you silently for a few minutes while the corners of your mouth twitched occasionally at something that was said on the television, then he cleared his throat, warning you he was about to speak.

"I'm sorry," he said, brows pinching together. You looked up at him in surprise but said nothing, so he continued. "I shoulda told you 'bout Tammy. You were right. And I shouldn't've said... that other stuff," he added weakly, looking down at his hands again. "I ain't any good at this," he continued, pursing his lips in thought. "I push people away, I say all the wrong shit, always have, and now I'm doin' it to you. And it's... it ain't right."

You scanned his face, your resolve crumbling when you saw the sincerity behind his eyes.

"It's okay," you finally said, your voice sounding so small from underneath the plush comforter.

He shook his head. "No, it ain't."

"No, but I forgive you, anyway."

He finally dragged his eyes up to meet yours and smiled. "Thank you, darlin'."

You sighed and readjusted a bit under the covers. "I'm sorry, too."

"Nothin' for you to be sorry for."

"I got too drunk and embarrassed you. It won't happen again."

He scoffed and gave you a look of disbelief. "Half the people on this boat got just as drunk as you. These people are borderline alcoholics," he said, making you giggle a little. He grinned, his heart soaring when he heard the sound. "None of 'em probably even remember we went to dinner."

You laughed a little louder at that and he joined in with a chuckle under his breath. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his nerves settling. He may have just salvaged things yet.

Joel leaned back and tucked his legs under the covers, watching the sitcom but not really absorbing anything. In the past, when he let his mind wander, it was not exactly the way he pictured being in bed with you, but it was still nice.

"Things are over with me 'n her, by the way," he said after a long, comfortable silence. Your body stiffened and you tipped your head in his direction.

"Why didn't you just tell me that to begin with?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I liked it when you got jealous."

Your cheeks flared with heat and you pulled the bedding up tighter around you.

"Asshole," you muttered. He laughed, making you smile.

"I deserved that."

He could tell when you began to drift off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your head tilt towards your shoulder and your perfect lips part ever so slightly. You began to snore so softly, it almost seemed fake. No one looked and sounded that beautiful when they slept. Especially after being sick. But of course, you did. He should have known.

Joel reached over and flicked the lights off, washing the room in the television's glow, then slid deeper underneath the covers. Quietly, he turned the TV off and waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before rolling his head to the side to look at you.

What the hell were you doing to him?

It had only been a week and he could already feel himself falling, already doing things out of character and feeling more at ease in general.

So what was one more thing?

Carefully, so as not to wake you, he inched forward and wrapped one arm around your middle, pausing to see if you would stir. When your breath remained steady and even, he got a little closer and pulled.

You took a deep breath and sighed, then rolled onto your side. He closed the remaining space between you and tucked you against his chest while snaking one arm under your pillow, the other still around your waist.

The last thing he remembered thinking was how your hair smelled like coconut and vanilla, a comforting scent he wanted to wrap himself in that was so soft and addicting, it put him right to sleep.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic

788 notes · View notes

youcancallmeelle · 3 months ago

Text

Are we on the same side?

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader

Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.

He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.

You may need some clarification on what you are…

AO3

You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages

Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted.

You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own.

You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars.

It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it.

You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back.

“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman.

The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this.

Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late.

He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house.

“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie.

You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes.

“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise.

You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen.

With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.

“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye.

Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash.

“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.

“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease.

“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”

“She’s smarter than us.” You say.

“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation.

He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose.

You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of.

“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath.

The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in.

“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious.

“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone.

“Who?” He grins back.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.”

“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you.

“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement.

“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes.

“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you.

“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck.

You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed.

He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra.

As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move.

You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track.

Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin.

“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside.

It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them.

Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back.

The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive.

Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture.

“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some.

“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?”

“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves.

When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches.

You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice.

“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you.

“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong.

“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.”

“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls.

“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.

“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.”

You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you.

“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.”

“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.”

“No.”

“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.

“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed.

You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull.

In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls.

“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug.

“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.

“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?”

“No.” You hum, shaking your head.

“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?”

“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh.

“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares.

“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again.

“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly.

Silence and then…

“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability.

You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle.

The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back.

Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees.

It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you.

Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you.

Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five.

You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see.

God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible.

Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side.

He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level.

“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence.

“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror.

“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.”

“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant.

Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him.

The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot.

His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen.

You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh.

“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips.

“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands.

“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss.

His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.

You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits.

“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.

Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back.

“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy.

“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin.

“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip.

You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know.

“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?”

“Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with.

“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated.

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft.

“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle.

You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him.

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure.

“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress.

“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes.

“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.

“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin.

“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so.

“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction.

“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.

You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share.

This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close.

His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you.

You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall.

It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you.

“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder.

He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family.

It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius.

You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island.

You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce.

The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either.

It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat.

“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long.

“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!”

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair.

“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble.

“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch.

“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.”

“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you.

“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.”

“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam.

Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves.

You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back.

You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour.

He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts.

“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze.

The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty.

He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there.

You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him.

“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard.

Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate.

“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist.

“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness.

He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync.

“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.

Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix.

“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting.

“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.”

“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.”

“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought.

“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery.

“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts.

“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire.

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon.

The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe.

You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing.

“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured.

“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.”

He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body.

You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks.

Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones.

“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?”

“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer.

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.”

“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him.

“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees.

“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly.

“Hmm?”

“What if we can’t fix this?”

“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.”

“I love you.” You murmur.

“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds.

“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin.

He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause.

The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work.

“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.”

“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice.

“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise.

“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.”

“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.”

“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies.

“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken.

“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.”

“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels.

“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding.

“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck.

You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart.

He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin.

“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.

You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length.

Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze.

“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed.

You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back.

You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.

“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup.

It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned.

“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment.

“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s.

“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him.

“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms.

“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you.

“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you.

“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly.

She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.

“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder.

“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies.

“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs.

“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair.

“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends.

You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you.

“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing.

“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly.

“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.

“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs.

“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start.

“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone.

Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.

“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.”

“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.

He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs.

“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs.

“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.

“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back.

“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath.

“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs.

“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely.

“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”

“Gross!” They both exclaim.

That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over.

You’re certain that everything will be okay.

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #the last of us fic #ellie & sarah #ellie & joel #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller

514 notes · View notes

23victoria · 4 months ago

Text

34 + 35

pairings: 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

warnings: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍

authors note: 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗁𝗆𝗆! 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇....𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁! 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽!! 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒!! 🤍

𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌?! CLICK HERE

1k celebration f1 masterlist

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you begin to stir. The smell of something delicious wafts through the air, pulling you from your slumber. You stretch, the soft sheets rustling around you, and that's when you see Charles standing in the doorway, a tray in his hands and a loving smile on his face.

"Good morning, baby," he says, his voice filled with affection.

You sit up, propping yourself on the pillows as he brings the tray to you. It's a delightful spread of fresh fruit, fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Charles, this looks amazing!" you exclaim, touched by the effort he's put into making your morning special.

He sets the tray on your lap and leans in to kiss your forehead. "Only the best for you," he says, his eyes sparkling with love. "I wanted to start our anniversary weekend off right."

As you take a bite of the pancakes, savoring the sweet syrup, he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a look of adoration. "You have until tonight to pack your essentials," he says casually.

You pause, fork halfway to your mouth. "Pack my essentials? What do you mean?"

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I already had your BFF buy you stuff and pack everything you might need. Your job is just to relax and get ready."

You're shocked, a mixture of excitement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. "Where are we going?" you ask, your voice filled with anticipation.

You stare at him, speechless. "Wait. Charles! My hair, my nails... nothing is done. Are you serious?"

"It's a surprise," he says with a wink. "But don't worry about a thing. I've scheduled a whole day of pampering for you. Your hair, nails, everything—it's all taken care of."

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly. "That's what you're doing today. Just relax and enjoy yourself. I've got everything planned."

After breakfast, you get ready for your day of pampering. You’re still buzzing with excitement and curiosity about the surprise trip. Charles gives you one last kiss before you head out the door, his parting words making you smile. "Enjoy your day, baby. You deserve it."

Your first stop is a high-end salon downtown, where you're greeted by friendly staff who seem to know exactly who you are. "Welcome! We've been expecting you," the receptionist says with a warm smile.

You're ushered into a private room where your stylist awaits. She’s bubbly and professional, and she wastes no time in discussing what you’d like for your hair. After a brief consultation, you decide on a style that's elegant yet easy to manage, perfect for a surprise trip.

As she works, you relax, letting the tension melt away. The stylist is skilled, her hands working magic on your hair. She gives you a deep conditioning treatment, a trim, and styles your hair into soft, cascading waves that frame your face beautifully.

Next, you’re led to the nail section, where you choose a chic chrome white French tip with tiny jewels for a touch of glamour. The nail technician is meticulous, ensuring each nail is perfect. The process is soothing, and you find yourself chatting with her, the time passing quickly.

Once your nails are done, you move on to a luxurious facial. The esthetician is gentle, applying various creams and masks that rejuvenate your skin, leaving it glowing and refreshed. You close your eyes, letting the serene environment and soft music lull you into a state of complete relaxation.

By the time you’re finished, you feel like a new person. Your hair looks stunning, your nails are impeccable, and your skin feels silky smooth. As you step out of the salon, you can’t help but admire your reflection in the glass door. Charles is going to love this, you think to yourself with a smile.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Charles picks you up outside the salon, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Wow, you look incredible," he says, pulling you in for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"It was amazing," you reply, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you so much for everything. But I'm still dying to know where we're going."

He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that makes your heart flutter. "All in good time, baby."

He drives you to the airport, the anticipation building with each passing mile. When you arrive, he parks and leads you inside, his hand warm and reassuring in yours. As you walk through the bustling terminal, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves.

"Charles, seriously, where are we going?" you ask again, hoping he’ll give you a hint.

He just smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You'll see soon enough. Trust me."

You board a private plane, a luxury you hadn't expected. The interior is plush and comfortable, with soft leather seats and elegant décor. As you settle in, a stewardess offers you a drink, and you accept a glass of champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose as you take a sip.

Charles sits beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. "I arranged for dinner to be served once we're in the air," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I thought it would be nice to enjoy a meal together while we fly."

You look at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "You're so cute," you say, leaning in to kiss him. "I love you. I'm so excited but also a little nervous."

He smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too. And there's no need to be nervous. Everything is going to be perfect."

The plane takes off smoothly, and soon you’re soaring above the clouds. The stewardess brings out dinner—a beautifully arranged spread of gourmet dishes. There's a succulent filet mignon, a delicate salmon fillet, roasted vegetables, and a variety of decadent desserts.

As you dine, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily between you. The food is delicious, each bite a new sensation of flavor and texture. You feel completely spoiled, each moment more perfect than the last.

"You're really pulling out all the stops," you say, taking a sip of your champagne. "This is like a dream."

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. "You deserve nothing but the best," he says softly. "I wanted to make this anniversary unforgettable."

You smile, squeezing his hand. "It already is. But I can't help but wonder—where are we going?"

He chuckles, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your hand. "Patience, baby. You'll know soon enough."

After dinner, you both recline your seats, the plane dimming its lights for the evening. You snuggle close to Charles, his arm wrapped around you as you gaze out at the stars twinkling outside the window.

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," you whisper, your voice filled with excitement.

He kisses your forehead, his lips soft and warm against your skin. "It's going to be amazing," he promises. "I can't wait to share it with you."

As the plane continues its journey, you close your eyes, feeling completely content. The anticipation of the surprise destination fills you with a sense of adventure and wonder. With Charles by your side, you know that whatever awaits you will be perfect.

Several hours later, the plane begins its descent. You wake up, feeling refreshed and curious about where you are. Charles looks at you, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"We're almost there," he says, his voice filled with anticipation.

You look out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of your destination. The landscape below is beautiful, lush and green with hints of water sparkling in the distance. As the plane touches down, you feel a rush of excitement.

Once you’ve landed, Charles helps you gather your things, and you step off the plane into the warm, balmy air. The scenery is breathtaking—palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, the ocean stretching out to the horizon, and the sky painted with the colors of the setting sun.

“Charles, this is incredible,” you say, your eyes wide with wonder. “Where are we?”

He takes your hand, leading you towards a waiting car. “Welcome to Thailand,” he says with a grin. “Our home for the next week.”

You gasp, your heart racing with excitement. “Thailand? Are you serious?”

He nods, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I thought it would be the perfect place to celebrate our anniversary.”

You throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Charles. This is the best surprise ever.”

He kisses you, his lips warm and loving against yours. “Anything for you, baby. Now, let’s get settled in. We have an amazing week ahead of us.”

As you drive towards your hotel, the excitement and anticipation build within you. You can’t wait to see what other surprises Charles has in store. With him by your side, you know this trip will be nothing short of magical.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you make your way to the candle-lit dinner he meticulously planned, the soft glow of lanterns and the soothing sound of the waves set the perfect ambiance. The setting is picturesque—a secluded beach with a table adorned with flowers, candles flickering gently in the evening breeze, and the scent of the ocean filling the air.

Charles, ever the gentleman, pulls out your chair, his eyes never leaving yours. He looks dashing in a crisp white shirt that contrasts beautifully with his tanned skin, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. You can’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness he’s put into this evening.

As you sit down, a waiter appears with a bottle of your favorite wine. Charles pours it for you, the liquid shimmering in the candlelight. You clink glasses, and he raises his, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“To us,” he says, his voice deep and sincere. “To three amazing years and many more to come.”

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth and affection. “To us,” you echo, taking a sip of the wine.

The first course arrives—a delicate seafood platter with fresh oysters, shrimp, and lobster, all beautifully presented. You savor each bite, the flavors bursting on your tongue. Charles watches you, his eyes dark with a mix of love and desire.

“This is amazing,” you say, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. “You really outdid yourself.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. “Only the best for you,” he replies, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

The conversation flows effortlessly as you enjoy the meal. You talk about your favorite memories from the past three years, laughing and reminiscing about the adventures you’ve shared. Charles is attentive, hanging on your every word, his gaze never wavering from your face.

The main course is a sumptuous Thai curry, rich and aromatic, with just the right amount of spice. You both savor the complex flavors, occasionally feeding each other bites. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, the connection between you deepening with each shared taste.

As the meal draws to a close, the waiter brings out a decadent dessert—mango sticky rice, perfectly sweet and fragrant. Charles takes a bite, then leans over to kiss you, his lips tasting of mango and coconut.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with emotion.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

After dinner, you and Charles walk back to your hotel, hand in hand. The night is warm, the air filled with the scent of jasmine and the distant sound of music from a nearby festival. When you reach your room, he opens the door with a flourish, revealing a scene straight out of a fairy tale. The room is dimly lit, with rose petals scattered across the bed and soft music playing in the background.

Charles pulls you close, his hands resting on your hips. “I have one more surprise for you,” he says, his breath warm against your ear.

You raise an eyebrow, curious and excited. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He smiles, a slow, sensual smile that sends shivers down your spine. “Why don’t you sit down and find out?”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as he moves to the small table in the corner. He lights a few more candles, their soft glow adding to the romantic atmosphere. Then he turns back to you, his eyes dark and smoldering.

He walks over to you, his movements graceful and deliberate. When he reaches you, he kneels down, his hands sliding up your legs to rest on your thighs. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says, his voice low and filled with desire.

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in, his lips brushing against your skin. He starts at your ankle, kissing his way up your leg, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. By the time he reaches your inner thigh, you’re already aching with need.

“Charles,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with love and lust. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”

You lean back, propping yourself up on your elbows as he continues his slow, sensual exploration. His hands are gentle but firm as they slide up your dress, pushing the fabric aside to reveal your bare skin. When his lips finally reach your core, you can’t help but moan, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

He takes his time, his tongue teasing and tasting you with a skill that leaves you breathless. Each flick and swirl sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, building higher and higher until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. You grip the sheets, your knuckles white as you hold on, the sensations overwhelming.

“Charles, I’m so close,” you gasp, your body trembling with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Come for me,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come.”

His words send you over the edge, your body arching as the orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your vision going white with pleasure. Charles doesn’t stop, his tongue still moving against you, prolonging your release until you’re shaking with aftershocks.

When you finally come down, he looks up at you, his lips glistening. “You taste amazing,” he says, his voice husky.

You pull him up to you, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. “Your turn,” you whisper, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

You push Charles onto his back, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. He watches you, his eyes filled with anticipation and desire. When you finally have his shirt off, you trail kisses down his chest, your tongue flicking out to taste his skin. He groans, his hands tangling in your hair as you make your way lower.

When you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, your eyes dark with desire. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you say, your voice low and sultry.

He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours. “You always do,” he replies, his voice rough with need.

You smile, your fingers deftly undoing his belt and sliding his pants down. When he’s finally bare before you, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body.

Then you lean down, your lips wrapping around him, your tongue teasing the sensitive head. He groans, his hips bucking as you take him deeper, your mouth moving up and down his length with practiced ease. You can feel him trembling beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets as he tries to hold on.

“God, you’re so good at that,” he gasps, his voice strained.

You hum in response, the vibration sending shivers through his body. You take him deeper, your hand moving to stroke the base as your mouth works its magic. He’s close, you can feel it, his body tensing as he nears the edge.

Just as he’s about to come, you pull back, a wicked smile on your lips. He looks at you, his eyes filled with desperation and desire. “Please,” he begs, his voice rough. “I need you.”

You climb onto the bed, straddling his hips as you align yourself with him. “Not yet,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “I want to ride you first.”

You sink down onto him, both of you gasping at the sensation. You start to move, your hips rocking back and forth as you take him deep inside you. The pleasure is intense, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body. Charles watches you, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping your hips as you ride him.

“You look so hot,” he groans, his voice filled with awe. “God, I love watching you like this.”

You smile, your movements quickening as you feel the pleasure building. “I love it too,” you gasp, your body trembling with need.

Just as you’re about to come, Charles flips you over, pinning you beneath him. He thrusts into you hard and fast, his hands gripping your thighs as he drives you both towards release. The pleasure is overwhelming, each thrust sending you higher and higher until you’re on the edge of ecstasy.

“You want me to get you pregnant?” he growls, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” you moan, your body arching beneath him. “Yes, Charles, I want it so much.”

He thrusts into you one final time, both of you crying out as you come together. The sensation is intense, your body shaking with the force of your release. When it finally subsides, you collapse against the bed, your body spent and satisfied.

Charles pulls out of you gently, his movements careful and tender. He reaches for a warm rag, cleaning you up with a soft touch. “You were amazing,” he murmurs, his voice filled with love and admiration.

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. “So were you,” you reply, your voice soft.

He finishes cleaning you up, then scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. When you see the rose petals and warm water waiting, you can’t help but smile. “You really thought of everything,” you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Charles sets you down gently into the bath, the warm water enveloping your tired muscles and soothing your skin. The scent of the rose petals fills the air, adding to the romantic atmosphere. He slips in behind you, pulling you close so your back rests against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you securely.

You both sigh in contentment, the warm water and intimate setting creating a perfect moment of peace and relaxation. Charles nuzzles your neck, placing soft kisses along your shoulder.

“This was perfect,” you murmur, leaning back into him.

He tightens his hold on you slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he whispers. “I wanted tonight to be special for you.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “It was more than special. It was unforgettable.”

He smiles, his eyes filled with love. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart swelling with emotion.

You rest in the bath together, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. Charles’s hands gently caress your skin, his touch soothing and comforting. You close your eyes, letting yourself relax completely in his embrace.

taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @yoncesgroove @exotic-iris13 @magicpractically @eoduuung @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @avengers-assemble123456 @oIn4 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips

676 notes · View notes

koolades-world · 11 months ago

Text

Powerful men

oh my god the fact that any of the brothers and datables could ruin the lives of anyone who wrongs you is so hot to me

the idea of the pure power and influence they hold used just used for little old me instead of something actually productive makes me weak in the knees

if you go down the list, each of them is terrifying in their own way and you have them wrapped around your finger

Lucifer is Diavolo’s right hand man and single handed manages so many things, including six of his brothers that are all very power demons

Mammon has influence over everything money

Levi is Hell’s Admiral

Satan was literally birthed from Lucifer’s rage and has connections in every part of the Devildom

Asmo is not only famous as the avatar of lust, but also online meaning he has a horde of crazy dedicated fans and man’s greater weakness at his disposal

Beel is a beefcake of a man and will eat anything without flinching, including almost you

Belphie rules the dreamworld and arguably had the least amount of restraint among his brothers

Diavolo is literally the next in like to be king and has an inconceivable amount of grim at the tips of his fingers

Barbatos can alter time, space, and any destiny at will with something as simple as a thought and hand movement

Solomon has 46(? don’t remember exactly how many) demons in a pact with him including Barbatos and Asmo and is a very powerful sorcerer

Simeon has the influence of an angel and the power of all that is heavenly on his side, as well as Lucifer

all it takes is for one of them to find out, then the fate of whoever wronged you has been sealed. I like to think it’s a collaborative effort

the demon that made fun of you in RAD mysteriously vanished, that thorn in your side at your part time job is suddenly much nicer, and that one rude hairstylist at your favorite salon is fired for some reason

it’s so insane how all of them are likely willing to go that far for a human that was chose at random for an exchange program that wasn’t meant to last more than a year

the writing potential is endless

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

2K notes · View notes

capslocked · 1 year ago

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 2

[prompt: mutual masturbation] male reader x jang wonyoung 4k words

If nothing else, Jang Wonyoung is a creature of habit.

Always orders her americano cold. Brown sugar and cinnamon cream cheese on her bagel. Walks three and a half steps behind her manager whenever they make their rounds: hair salon, corner pharmacy, the office, local record store. And for as long as she's been sharing your bed, she's insisted on that horrendous alarm clock from the late 90s that chirps the early-morning wakeup like a dying robot-parakeet.

All of it has worked for her so far, she’ll tell you. Which you find hard to argue with.

So - when she arrives home later than usual on an ordinary Thursday, she doubles down on routine. Where there's comfort in predictability. Coat on the third hook, boots below, fingers in her hair twisting to undo a messy bun, and a soft, delicate, "It's me," once she steps over the threshold.

“Hey,” you say to her, tilting your head. "You look, bedraggled."

"Well," and Wonyoung brushes aside the handful of her damp hair not stuck to her neck. There are faint marks just at her temple, in a faded half-circle, not unlike what would happen if your pillow wasn't comfortable. Or, you know. Some boyfriend that she's not supposed to have getting a hand tangled into all that long hair and pulling tight, like she tells him not to do. "That's probably true."

"Is it raining?"

"It was earlier." She eyes the spoonful of yogurt you're about to lick off, leaning back against the counter and tapping at the ceramic bowl. Frowns. "Is that one of the last blueberry ones. I take those for my lunch."

"I can always get more."

"Uh-huh." She drops her phone, keys, and spare change from her pockets into the large wicker bowl that lives near the end of the hall, by the closet and coat hooks. She has a sort of despondent energy about her when she comes into the kitchen. Less a look, more of a stance. A rub at her shoulder, this back and forth in her neck like she's working out a kink.

And because she looks tired and her hair is damp and she isn't busy kissing you right away, that's when you reach out. Let a finger slide across her skin, under her collar, pull aside the cotton.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Mind if I join you? You could use a hand." You end up holding hers in your own for a moment. Just, looking. "If you want."

There's something unidentifiable in her stare. She might have gone on believing nothing was different if not for the length of that pause - you, and the warmth from your body and the warmth of your hands on her shoulders, sliding into her neck, then-

She rises up on her toes and presses a light, almost shy kiss into your chin. And, well, if she had the strength to reach anywhere more than that, she'd let her fingertips find and curl around the smooth curve of your ear and say, very softly - barely audible - "take your clothes off. I'm already soaking wet. If you don't help, I'll run out of hot water before the conditioner's worked its way through."

But it's not for tonight; she's tired, wants it simple, maybe. Maybe wants to leave it for a better day.

"I just want to get cleaned up. It's been a long day."

"Fine by me." You point your spoon at her. "That's what it's for."

“Such a fucking gentleman," she murmurs, patting a palm at the front of your chest.

You smile first, playful - just this side of annoying - the exact thing she's kicking herself months later for having fallen for. And with another spoonful of yogurt, "you know me."

In your defense, Wonyoung has always had the cutest reaction to it. The quirk that she tries to keep from forming in the corner of her mouth, small and contained, like if you asked her about her day, she'd play it off. Let a sentence out with no punctuation. Which she often does: she's been fine, and that's the full length of her response.

But later, when she climbs into bed - when her face is in your hands and her lips are brushing past your cheek - when her hair smells like peach shampoo, and your chin is tucked into the nape of her neck, just the beginning of all the ways you plan to spoil her, you have to tease. Always, "I thought we weren't fucking until tomorrow, or was that a lie?"

A little bit of distance to keep your mind on track, and not thinking about her spread out under you, wide-eyes, and saying: yes.

You’re propped up against the headboard. You were reading, or watching tv. It doesn’t matter which when Wonyoung straddles your legs and drags her hand up your chest. Up and under her nightgown, the silky, thin, light blue material, until she has the collar cupped in her fist and her knees straddling your thigh. "Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"No. Not allowed." Your breath catches. Because she is gorgeous, especially like this: tired, and pretty, and sweet, and thinking, deeply and meticulously and with great consideration, of climbing into your lap and asking if you'd help. If she'd be distracting enough - if she had the words to entice you into staying very close, without actually promising anything, because this, what she's wearing, how it's so tight to her form and how it is easily torn or bunched aside when she reaches down with both hands and starts to fiddle with the fabric at her waist, near her navel - is all entirely purposeful.

Wonyoung raises her eyebrow in question - silently: an exception, maybe, for me?

The way you're talking her up with both hands at the very smallest dip between her ribs and the bones jutting out above her hips, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive places along her thighs - pressing, a steady rhythm.

"Do you want it bad, princess?"

"Stop." Wonyoung wrinkles her nose at that and glares. But she knows better than anyone else. She lives in that contradiction, visible as it plays across her face when her back arcs and arches. When her breathing does this slow and deep in and out and you've leaned in with just enough pressure to make it feel good, in your kiss, a soft tug, a bite. A slow laving tongue leaving lazy patterns across her skin.

"Just want to make sure," you insist. Then, the question is being murmured against her chest. Then it's being whispered into the crook of her neck - which earns the single most content of sounds:

"A little, yeah, you ass."

"My mouth? My fingers? Or are you looking for something more... involved?"

"Maybe I'm looking," she says, pulling a curtain of glossy black hair back over her ear, "for you to figure that out."

"Aren’t you coy." You grab at her hair again - the second time today, for the second-worst of reasons. To tilt her head and gaze up at her like you're willing to live in the space beneath her. "We'd start slow?" you ask, and with a press of your open mouth against her collarbone, she brings her arms around you.

"Very slowly," Wonyoung says. She has one hand curling through bedsheets to feel if you're anywhere near as hard as she is wet. Her touch is fleeting, barely a whisper. "We don't have to rush it. Maybe we could do that thing."

You laugh out loud, and the vibration of it alone, coursing through your chest, your waist, up between her legs, has Wonyoung wanting. "That could mean anything at this point."

Wonyoung just looks down at you, fingernails grazing over your stomach, your chest, as she peels your shirt up over your head and tosses it aside the bed. And then, the idea, "get your phone."

"Hm. I'm going to say something that might come off as a little... something, but I mean it in the most respectful way." It's not a far reach, to where yours is charging on the nightstand. You're tapping in the passcode to your lockscreen when you spell it out for the girl in your lap: "you're low-key kind of a freak."

Wonyoung closes her eyes. Smiles. Her hair is spilling over one shoulder, some strewn across her chest, where she cups the underside of her breasts and sits her elbows into your shoulders and wriggles her ass a little lower in your lap. Until the tips of her hair are brushing the space below her belly-button, teasing-soft at the warm, pliant flesh.

"Pot." She bites into her lip, just slightly. "Meet kettle."

It doesn't take long to find what she's looking for; twitter's full of it. A video of her that'd gone viral. Or not quite viral, but circulated - bounced from account to account, thousands and thousands of hits - the shot by shot of the choreo that sees her bending over at the waist, touching her fingertips to the hem of a plaid-checked skirt, with this perfect posture, straight up through the hips to arch the back and lift and turn her shoulders at the right angle, so there's no mistake she's looking straight at the camera.

“You look good here,” you remark, scrolling a little further. She's grown so used to it that she doesn't even look.

Instead, it's her fingers that do the talking: moving a little faster. Touching a little deeper and harder over the gray cloth of her underwear. She runs a circle over the spot that has her rubbing her hips forward, breath shaky, back in your ear. "I always look good, don't I?"

"Obviously."

Her jaw falls into the crook of your neck. There's no escaping it: this heat, and she sighs. Mumbled and warm. This is the worst thing, she mutters - like you can't feel how incredibly hard it's getting to see her touch herself and act all shy, so the words are half-concentrating on her own breath, the other half focused, hazy. In her face. In her chest.

So, again. Wonyoung swallows a sigh. Breathes and runs her touch along the edges. That spot and where the wet has started to soak through the fabric, her thighs rubbing and sliding and finding new pressure.

“Here’s a particularly nasty one," you tell her.

Wonyoung turns her mouth into your neck, lips leaving these kisses while she presses down her fingers and rides. Hard, heavy strokes where her hand moves quicker with a sharp huff to her inhale. You click open another thread - another snapshot of that tight little ass of hers, the smooth skin over the dip of her hips, and the long curve of her back-

"Read it."

And with the music all distorted and choppy through tinny phone speakers, you say: "some guy can't decide if he'd like to spank you or pull your hair."

"Uh-huh." You feel her chin dig in where it's placed itself, over the flat of your shoulder.

"Then there's an awful lot here about how much the commenter wants to rail you. They get pretty vulgar." You look up from the screen and raise an eyebrow, the words coming into place, "Wonyoung has grown up so well," and the next part is so easy, "this little cocktease has been begging me to drain my balls for her for too long. I have to fucking oblige."

"God." She slips a finger into her panties to rub at her pussy - you know because the contact is audible, wet - and she drags a palm up and down, pressing in hard. Her lips part over a shaky punched out breath - this hot, wet puff of air - when she drags her mouth over the smooth skin of your collarbone. Where she feels at liberty to bite a hickey into the taut line of your neck, and draw her mouth, open and hot, up into your jaw. "Cocktease, huh?"

"Always the impression you leave." And with one, long, indulgent swipe, and a pinch on the wet material that's plastered itself, sheer and transparent and a beautiful outline to your cock, you glance to see Wonyoung smiling. That one that's all cheekbones. All teeth. All sort of sly.

"Can you," and there's not even an attempt, not even a sliver of an ounce of thought toward trying to hide the ache in her voice.

(You're there before she has to ask.)

“The concept of ‘Baddie’ does suit her, I think,” you start to read, “no one would believe it, but Wonyoung is the perfect little slut. Grade A baddie. Capital 'b'. She keeps teasing us with that tight, toned body and her slutty expressions. Someone’s ruining her on the regular. Not a doubt in my mind. A piece of ass that fine doesn’t go a week without it.”

"I do like when they talk about you," Wonyoung purrs out, and her hand slips down your chest. A touch, always warm and heavy and searching and all your fault lands right at your waist. On the bone that juts out at her thumb and forefinger. Which is exactly where she'd start palming you over your underwear, but with something close and confident in her eye, this mischievous idea taking shape in her gaze. You can't deny it: she has something dangerous in store.

"About how they think I am."

And when you place your hand back at her hairline, trailing her neck, her shoulder, Wonyoung sighs. From the top of her chest.

"What else does it say?" She breathes out a desperate exhale. This low-slung sort of groan. She looks hungry, and so unafraid to be. Eyes all smoldering. Hips all wriggling. Pushing a rhythm with those desperate grinds over your leg. The mess, in the softest sense, of her mouth, panting against the smooth line of your jaw. And voice, hoarse, murmuring something about: "how are they planning to ruin me?"

"Princess, you-"

Wonyoung angles her hips just that inch. A moan, just at the barest amount of friction, barely a grind, her soaked pussy rubbing against the flesh of your upper thigh, that feels like an earthquake hitting your throat. That makes your eyes flutter closed for just one second and groan, your whole chest singing for her.

You swallow hard. "How can anyone go on calling this innocent-"

Wonyoung’s fingers slip past the elastic, your cock springing free against her thigh and bobbing gently. "Play along," she tells you, this hint of command, and maybe a tease - playful and familiar. "I don't want to be the only one ruining their underwear." She smiles like she has plans, and it's downright infuriating in the best way.

“In the song, she even calls herself a ‘pretty little risky baddie’ and means that whatever happens, happens. She’s announcing that she’s not on birth control and that she knows all she’s good for is getting fucked and used and bred like a toy.”

“And?” she asks, the fingers between her legs fluttering out tiny circles of respite - moving fast, faster -

It takes more than a couple seconds, because your breath halts in your throat the moment your fist finds the blood pulsing through your cock, joining her in slow, full-length, smooth motions, watching, always. Seeing her, all the way: with every slow and steady roll of her hips that moves her slick-covered-panties along your skin. The expression in the hooded eyes, this flash of her pink tongue and the way it curls over the seam of her plush-soft lip. That subtle shift in the arch of her back and the clenching muscle up her arm and leg-

Watching is where you find yourself at: all the way, everywhere. The tremble in the flex of her spine to the sound she makes from her throat at the same time. When Wonyoung moves closer. How you breathe, ragged, but eager. You're both all nerves, the damp heat building up the soft and quiet parts of the both of you and neither of you are bothered about the sweat sticking the shirt to her skin - this wet heat, a daze, a smell in the air that has Wonyoung rocking and rotating on your lap.

"I would start," you continue reading, paraphrasing slightly the unhinged words of someone typing one-handed, and your voice comes out odd, thick. "-start with my cock forced into that little throat, she'd look so perfect with her eyes watering while she gags on my cum, the filthy sounds she would be making. She'd beg for more like the slutty princess she is-"

Wonyoung shifts her weight, and lets out this moan.

"-I'm not convinced Wonyoung would even be satiated by being railed in her pretty little pussy until she's crying. Wouldn't be enough if she only choked on it while cum dripped down her chin, leaving those little dollops along the edges, slipping and glazing on her tongue. Probably wants the messiest, hottest load. No condom. Lying flat. Clenching. Could you imagine, bare? Wanting to be used for real, want us filling her so badly she'd barely even be able to move, or think, or process anything except how much of an overstimulated slut she would be: helpless. Soaking."

And you look at her as you stroke - the same tempo. Pre-cum leaking from the flushed head. Making a show of it. Watching her lips drop into something slack-jawed. This isn't even the filthiest thought she's ever heard - the roughest fantasy brought to life she's ever imagined - and yet.

"They go on for a long time about breeding you."

Wonyoung manages this incoherent half-word - a word of want, more of the kind of fucking she'd be receiving with her knees and palms to a mattress, her throat dry and face sticky with cum and tears and sweat. You know her body and what she likes, and this:

"-I would fuck her while she screams, her fingers tearing at the bedsheets and her vision so blurry and brain all fogged over, only able to respond in pained moans and deep-seated need-"

Her throat bobs.

You don't need to turn the phone over to find the end. Wonyoung lets it fall faceup onto the bedspread as she pulls your wrist toward the heat between her legs, all messy and slick. "Touch me," she's murmuring, guiding your hand lower until you have the thin strip of fabric tenting just off her lips and you press a digit inside, another - until Wonyoung clenches all around you - until she brings her wet fingers to your own ache, the hot length of your cock, pumping up and down, a stroke. Until she licks them, and places her forehead into the center of your collarbone, mumbling this broken, "Just... put-your-fucking-hands-" and her next breath, like a sharp and sudden wind.

When she’s this worked up, it doesn't take long: Wonyoung arches, slow and sinful, her shoulders curving down to present her chest, to make her small breasts and pert, hardened nipples visible even through the cotton of her shirt, her lips falling open - you slip two fingers to the base, then three. Plunging them in quick and ruthless, Wonyoung bucking into the heel of your hand, fucking her pussy on you so her thighs are slick, squelch after squelch-

“Fuck,” she whispers, this long note of exasperation, right into your cheek, and the intensity and urgency has her fucking her hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers, working her cunt like it's made for pleasure alone, and your cock-

The base of your throat burns. “Yeah,” you tell her, “just like that. Jerk that cock just like that, Wonyoung.”

Both of you are there, cumming into each other's hands, in the dimmed lights of your bedroom, heaving short, wet, sinful breaths into each other's mouths, because it's become one: her eyes and yours, blown wide. Her thighs shaking, your hips stuttering.

You roll and curl and spread your digits, holding Wonyoung's ass into her strokes. Tug the strap aside to hook a thumb in and press into her hot skin and warm muscle, driving further, deeper. Harder and firmer - pressing down, fast and vicious until she's making a series of sounds, whine-like and so soft.

"With me," she chokes out, swallowing down on the noise that falls out of her chest as fingers continue to slide around you like a vice. Her palm on you with so much pressure. "Fuck. I want you to cum."

It hits you - at first, not even particularly surprising, the rush of blood through your head.

"I wanna see it," she demands in a small, not particularly loud voice, so shy and small as the backs of her feet scramble for a hold on the mattress and she comes so hard - again, a sigh. "-feel your cum all over my knuckles, baby, cum on my-"

As to whether you or Wonyoung release first, tension coiled like a spring - well, it's anyone's guess.

"Wony-" Your mouth is open, eyes clenched tight, when Wonyoung bites a kiss down on your lip. All-consuming is the only way to describe the kind of desperation in her noises. It's everything, the sound and feeling, her wanting, her needing. All that wet heat - your stomach tightening, then slack, muscles stiffened up and falling loose as your grip becomes too tight, too heavy around the girl whose fist you're fucking and jerking and riding through this white-hot-blinding-orgasm, her wrist buckling to let you use her.

It's all that cum, lathering Wonyoung's palm, the space between her fingers, wrist and your shaft, slipping, easy. A whole puddle.

It's a few, careful strokes of her thumb and she's holding you up through that oversensitive high, forcing all that cum onto her belly, the hem of her nightshirt, all sorts of slick and messy. "Fuck, shit-" your hand still over her hot cunt, while hers just lays her weight over you, her lithe, slender body landing like it had lost any preference for form, for structure.

"Ugh," Wonyoung finally manages to get out.

"God." You collapse, leaning into the headboard behind you. With Wonyoung wrapped over your chest. Into your arm. Around your waist and mouth buried somewhere into the sweep of your neck: exhausted, entirely.

When she comes around, she does, however, make it an effort to use her tongue. Teasing along your jaw. A slip. And that makes you wonder.

"Messy," she says, wiping the back of her hand on your thigh, because where else should the proof end up.

"Ah."

She bites in, then tugs - lips on yours, until you lean up and wrap around the middle of her back, down into her hair and her hips. Because this part of her has never had a preference: to be treated either with the kind of affection and reverence afforded to an object of worship, or manhandled like someone, someone, no doubt has their fingers on her the instant she turns her ass this way or that.

"I could," she says, eyes unfocused and foggy - licking over the swell of her lip, "use a hand cleaning this up."

"Shower?"

“Mhmm.” Wonyoung slides her long legs off you, and in a look that's all too intentional, turns to move away and slip her nightshirt up, and-

Oh.

Right over her head. Then she tosses it aside like it's nothing. Wears the same sort of look that someone who hadn't had your fingers buried between their legs might. "Or, a bath sounds nice, if I’m allowed to change my mind."

"Say less, princess."

#wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader #kpop smut #capslocked kinkvember

2K notes · View notes

charlotteking23 · 8 months ago

Text

Forgotten Lunch (Bruce Wayne x Wife! Reader)

You were driving in the car, with a sack lunch in the passenger street. Bruce had forgotten to take his lunch and being a thoughtful wife decided to bring it to him.

You were excited you rarely went to Wayne Enterprise because your job hours were the same as Bruce's. You had a day off, and right after you dropped his lunch, you were going to the nail salon.

You parked the car towards the back having less of a hassle to find a spot. Walking in you were immediately greeted by some of the employees who recognized you and saw them pointing at you, but you didn't mind being used to it.

The sound of your high heels echoes through the lobby towards the receptionist. The lady looked up, you could tell she seemed shy. "Hello, I was wondering if Mr.Wayne was in any meeting right now", You said softly. "No, Ma'am, Mr Wayne should be expecting you", she said carefully, scared she might say something wrong. You nodded at her and thanked her as you walked towards the elevator.

When the elevator opened you were surprised to see a lady being rude to the employees. Before you could say something the rude lady saw you and pulled you by the arm making your back slam against the wall. Oh hell no you thought This lady must really want an ass kicking.

"I am Miranda, the Wayne Enterprises manager, which means I ensure, no new employees cause any trouble", Miranda said in a snooty tone. Before I could slap this bitch she looked me up and down in disgust was, this bitch. "Who are you trying to impress with all that makeup and this dress, here we have a standard procedure of no makeup and uniform", that bitch Miranda says as rudely as possible.

"Say that to all that cake-on makeup you have on your face, who are you trying to impress?" you said as you inspected her horrifying face wishing you brought your channel sunglasses. Trying to divert the attention off of her she commented on my food. "Who made that the rat", Miranda said as if it was even a good comeback. "No, but even a rat can make better food than you", you replied fed up with this girl's behavior.

But again this bitch just keeps on talking, you were about to take your louis vuitton high heel off and stab her eye with it but then it would be a waste of a good heel. "What can you do? you are just a lowly employee", Miranda says with such confidence. "Miranda-", Bruce says but was cut off by the wicked witch of the west(Miranda). " Oh Mr. Wayne it's good to see you", Miranda said in a flirty tone. It's funny how fast that girl switches up when my man comes.

"Miranda!", Bruce yelled stopping Miranda in shock. "This lowly employee you spoke to was my wife", Bruce said with a stern tone not taking shit from anybody. This was a complete shock to Miranda as she started to stutter, "I-I-I didn't know I am so sorry Mr and Mrs Wayne", red in the checks from being embarrassed by the mistake.

"I don't care Miranda this is not the first time I've heard complaints like these before I decided to not do anything because of how dedicated you were but now that has changed", Bruce said with anger in his eyes. "What do you mean s-sir", Miranda said as if she was going to cry. "You are fired, I suggest you pack your things now or I will call security", Bruce said as calmly as he could but anger shown in his eyes. Miranda ran away as fast as possible, away from the peering eyes.

Bruce was quick to apologize to all the employees who were tormented by Miranda, knowing Bruce he probably promised something really expensive for them to take as an apology.

Bruce then looks at his wife taking her by the hand and leading her to the office. "Are you okay? what are you doing here? Do you want some water or anything?", Bruce said scanning Me from head to toe making sure there were no injuries. "I came to drop off your lunch you forgot to bring", you said smiling up at Bruce. All he could do was laugh and talk to you for the remainder of the time til he had to return to work.

"You know Mr.Wayne", you said holding his hand as he walked with you towards the car." What Mrs.Wayne?" He said playfully. "You were really hot when you were taking charge", you said fanning yourself. "Maybe I should do that more often" Bruce said, cupping your checks and giving you a peck on the lips. "Definitely," you said as you pulled him back giving him a passionate kiss on his lips.

886 notes · View notes

mariabtsos · 5 months ago

Text

Nuts - ||k.nj||

Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?

Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending.

Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.

Word Count: 8.5k+

Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.

Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.

Such was Namjoon’s case.

When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.

“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.

The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.

“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.

His friends didn’t reciprocate it.

“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”

“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”

“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.

Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.

“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”

“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.

You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.

You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.

The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.

From: Hwang Jongdae

Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon

Good morning, miss Yn,

After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…

You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.

“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.

“I don’t know what to do!”

“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”

You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.

It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand

“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.

You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.

Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”

He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in?

Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.

He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.

The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.

“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.

“Yn”

“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.

They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.

“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.

“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.

“What, you don’t like chivalry?”

“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.

“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.

And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.

(T-4 hours)

Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.

“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.

“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.

Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.

As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.

Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.

“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.

“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.

“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”

Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.

Meet me in the sleeping area ;)

(T- 30 minutes)

There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.

All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.

Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.

“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.

“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.

“Hmm?”

“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”

“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.

“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”

You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.

“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”

You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.

“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”

“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.

“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”

“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”

‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”

“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.

“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.

“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.

“There will be no kissing.”

Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.

“No heavy petting.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.

“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.

Or were you?

(Day 2)

You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.

You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.

“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”

Fuck it.

That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”

Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big.

He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.

After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.

“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.

Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.

You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.

“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.

“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.

“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.

“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”

“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.

You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.

“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”

All hell broke loose then.

(Day 14)

You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.

Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her.

And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.

It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough?

He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.

You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”

Oh, how those words hurt you.

You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.

Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.

“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.

“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.

“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”

“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.

“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.

(Day 15)

Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.

Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.

You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.

Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.

“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.

The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.

“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.

“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”

“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.

Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”

“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.

“I’m not even looking at him.”

“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”

Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?

“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”

As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.

Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.

“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.

He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.

“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”

“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”

Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”

You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.

“You are a good person Jungkook.”

“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.

Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.

Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?

If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.

Love hard, hurt harder, you know?

He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.

“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.

“Your knuckles are bleeding.”

Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.

“I guess they are.”

“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.

Fuck no.

There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body.

It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…

He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”

“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.

“Good for you?”

“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.

He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.

“Yes.”

He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.

“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?

“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”

Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.

“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.

(Day 27)

The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.

People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships.

Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.

Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.

“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.

“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.

“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”

“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”

“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.

“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.

“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.

“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”

Fingers crossed.

#bts fanfic #bts #bts au #kim namjoon #namjoon au #namjoon x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut

596 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 7 months ago

Note

no thoughts… just this

bunny having a bad day and rafe saying “you’re fine, okay? daddy’s here. m’not going nowhere” :((

also, I’d love to be 🫐 anon if it’s not taken! 🫶🏻

⿻╰🎀 . ִ ۫ ⁎ .

you’d done the right thing. you’d called rafe — just like he told you to. if you were ever having trouble with anything — you were to call him and he’d handle it, that’s what he’d always drilled into you, and you never knew anything different.

so he wasn’t displeased to find you in tears outside the hair salon. he was mad, just not at you.

they’d overcharged you, pricing you up past what they originally told you on the phone, and when you said you didn’t have that money on you they yelled at you. safe to say, you didn’t take it well. panicked and upset, you call rafe — who shows like a superhero with a black card.

“and — and you tell the manager of this place, that if you overcharge my girl again there’ll be trouble… yeah — this building exists because of cameron development, don’t forget that shit, alright?”

he storms you out of there with a hand on your lower back all the way to the car, where you let the tears run free.

“three hundred dollars my ass. gave them two fifty n’that was me being god damn generous.” he rambles quietly as he buckles himself in, not noticing how upset you were until a few seconds later. “hey, you alright? what’d they even say huh?”

you paw at your damp cheeks, looking away shamefully. “a load of stuff. i could have paid for it— i do have the money it’s just they told me somethin’ different on the phone so i only brought it in cash so then they said—” you mewl and he shakes his head, blinking obviously at you.

“okayokay— hey, you’re not in the wrong here, alright? don’t have to explain shit. you just…” he sighs, picking his words carefully as he scratches at his chin staring into space. “should have told me where you were goin’ today. yeah? i would have given you the money. it wouldn’t have been a problem.”

your lip wobbles as you look down at your hands. “i just wanted to do something myself.” you squeeze your eyes shut forcing two fat tears to roll down your cheeks and he sighs, shuffling as close to you as he can and pulling your torso over the centre console to hug him. “just embarrassed.” you sigh, still sniffling but your body relaxes a little feeling him near.

“well, you have no reason to be— okay? i came and saved you right? like i always do? nothings wrong with that. i look after you. it’s what i do.” he drawls, thumb stroking your back when he feels you nod in acceptance. “you’re fine. daddy’s here.” he adds, just because he knows it’ll ease you into a more relaxed state.

“yeah.” you agree and he pulls you back, before reaching over and buckling you in.

“shouldn’t let them see you cry, bunny girl. alright? your hair looks pretty anyway. don’t need to cry anymore.” he relays in that rich boy nasally tone as he starts the car up, preparing to take you home.

⿻╰🎀 . ִ ۫ ⁎ .

#rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader #🫐 anon

762 notes · View notes

bleedingoptimism · 1 year ago

Text

College dropout Steve Harrington with two years of business school under his belt, works, invests, saves, and manages his time and money until he has enough to open up his own little hair-dressing salon.

His parents didn’t approve of Steve’s “dream” at first but ended up warming up to the idea when the place didn’t crash and burn after a year. Now, two years in the running “Hair of Town” is doing numbers and Steve is ecstatic that he’s able to afford to hire an assistant.

Especially because Robin is the other half of his soul he didn’t know he was missing. She’s funny, brass, and sweet in her own way. She’s also incredibly intelligent, she’s working part-time with him and brawling her way through a major in linguistics in two different languages at the same time.

But, burnout it’s a thing and the reason why she called in sick last minute monday morning leaving Steve to manage the salon alone that tuesday.

He had just finished with a client and was thinking about how he hadn’t missed being alone in the shop at all when a girl with long wavy red hair comes in.

He smiles at her, looking at the door to see if someone else walks in after because the girl doesn’t look old enough to be walking around alone yet, “Good Da-”

“I want to cut my hair” she interrupts him. He suppresses a chuckle at the business-like attitude and smiles at her,

“Oka-”

“But I’m not cutting my hair unless my dad cuts his first” She interrupts him again and this time Steve does chuckle and looks up when the bell by the door rings as someone else walks into the shop.

A man, a gorgeous man with long curly hair walks in a little out of breath, “There you are!” he says and then looks up at Steve and his eyebrows shoot up and he visibly swallows and stumbles a little, “Oh! Hi…”

The little redhead points at the man and her eyebrows raise too, “See?” she says and Steve laughs again, “I see” he tells her and then smiles at the man.

Who takes that as his cue to come closer, “I see she’s already told you her conditions…” he says with a cheeky smile and then he leans in and whispers, “I don’t really want to cut my hair. I’ve been growing it for years”

Steve gets momentarily distracted by big chocolate brown eyes but then he clears his throat and looks at the man’s hair, “May I?” he asks as he moves his hand closer to the strands framing the man’s face.

He blushes and nods before Steve touches it lightly, “Mmm, the ends are a little dry, we could fix that. Cut just a little,” and because the guy’s really pretty and he’s blushing a lot Steve can’t resist himself when he looks at him in the eye and smiles crookedly, “Just the tip?”

Chocolate-eyes blushes even harder and blinks at him a few times before nodding slowly.

“You’ll do it?” Redhead asks excitedly and for a second Steve forgot she was there. He turns and smiles at her and then moves and gestures them over to the couch, “Ok, who is going first?”

“Him.” She answers immediately.

Chocolate-eyes sighs and Steve smirks at him, “Right this way, sr.” he says and takes them to the back to wash his hair.

He notices the little girl follows them and that the dad’s about to say something about it so he touches his shoulder lightly as he sits down, “It’s okay,” he assures him.

He can tell this girl is a handful but Steve already kind of adores her attitude. She’s obviously scared or nervous about getting a haircut and acting up tough seems to be her go-to and Steve finds that very relatable.

“What are you doing?” She asks as Steve turns the water on and her dad gets comfortable in the chair. Steve beckons her closer as he explains, “I’m washing his hair,”

She crunches up her nose and giggles, “Is it dirty?”

“Not at all, but it will let me see better what hairs I need to cut” he answers and as he starts touching the man’s hair, he closes his eyes and sighs contentedly in his chair.

Redhead nods like that makes perfect sense to her and then as Steve’s pouring shampoo in his hands she asks, “What’s that?”

“Shampoo” Steve tells her and offers his hand for her to smell the scent. She does and then nods again, she seems very satisfied with being involved in the process.

As Steve massages the man’s head she stays beside him, watching attentively, and then perks up again when Steve grabs another bottle, “What’s that?”

“Conditioner, to make his hair softer and easier to comb through” Steve answers and she taps her chin, “Of course,” she says and Steve chuckles making her frown, “What?” she prods.

“You are just very lovely” he says and boops her nose leaving a small dollop of foam behind. Redhead’s frown depends but when she notices the foam she giggles and swaps it off.

When he’s done washing the man’s hair, Redhead runs to the front of the shop and sits on the couch as Steve carefully wraps a towel around Chocolate-eyes head.

He can feel the man’s eyes boring into him so he looks at him and smiles and he blushes again, “You are really good with her,” he tells Steve.

Steve's smile grows wider and he looks down bashfully.

Once he’s sat, Redhead walks up closer to Steve and inspects what he’s doing, Steve grabs his scissors from his apron and moves them without touching yet through the length of the man’s hair.

Stopping at different heights he asks his little assistant where he should cut and gets an exasperated “Please don’t” from the man when he stops close to his neckline. Steve smiles and winks at him through the mirror and he blushes again.

Redhead seems very amused by the whole thing and when he finally gets to work, she just stands close to them watching quietly. And Steve keeps true to his word and only cuts the dried-up ends.

After he’s done he partially dries the hair and uses a hair lotion to work his curls and let it dry naturally. He gets the feeling this guy likes having his hair long but doesn’t take care of it at all and it makes his hands itch with the need to take care of it for him.

“What do you think?” he asks Redhead looking at their reflection in the mirror to include Chocolate-eyes in the answer.

The girl comes closer and her dad picks her up as she touches his hair, “Soft, pretty” she says and Chocolate-eyes smiles at her and kisses her cheek loudly.

“Your turn now!” he tells her and she visibly hesitates.

Steve crouches until he’s at eye level with her, “I forgot to ask, are you the princess type? Maybe a knight? Perhaps the dragon?” he asks her, and she tilts her head and really thinks about it.

“A knight!” she declares and he smiles at her,

“Ok! Sir Knight! This will be your throne” he tells her and points to the washing chair.

“Knights don’t have thrones” She frowns at him but goes to sit anyway.

“They do in my kingdom” he answers easily.

“So, are you the king of Hair of Town?” Chocolate-eyes asks with a smile and Steve smirks,

“Sure, but if I’m the king and she’s the knight, what are you?”

“The princess!” Redhead answers excitedly and tries to lift her head where Steve is washing it but he touches her forehead softly and she stills and looks up at him, “‘cause his hair is soft and pretty like a princess's hair now!”

He smiles and nods at her, “You are right,” and then he looks back at the man after placing Redhead with a towel wrapped around her hair on the cutting chair, “Would the princess like something to drink while he waits?” he asks flirtingly and gets the prettiest blush yet and a little fumbling in return before he takes pity on the man and makes his smile a little more friendly, “A coffee maybe?”

But Princess seems to be of the mind that two can play this game, because he recovers easily and smiles at Steve, “Maybe some other time” he jokes.

Steve raises an eyebrow and smiles at him before turning his attention back to his Knight, “So, how would you like me to cut it?” he asks her, combing his fingers through her long hair softly.

“I can choose?” she asks excitedly and Steve looks briefly back at Princess who nods before smiling at her, “Of course”

She looks back at her dad and then at Steve and seems to think about it for a second before she says, “I want it short, like yours”

Steve looks at her surprised, “Are you sure?”

She nods decidedly, “Yes, I want it to look just like yours”

Steve glances back at her father one last time just to make sure and he’s already smiling brightly back at him when he does. He nods once more and Steve gets his scissors out feeling silly for feeling so touched and flattered by the girl's request.

But just when he’s about to start his phone rings, and since it’s working hours and it’s probably someone wanting to make an appointment, he excuses himself for a second,

“Take care of the kingdom while I'm gone, ok?” he tells his Knight and she nods and sits up straighter on the chair.

He moves to the small side room where he keeps the coffee machine to answer but it ends up being a telemarketer so he quickly tells them he’s working right now and hangs up. And just as he’s about to open the door he hears Redhead talking with her dad,

“...But the princess can marry the king, right?” she’s saying, and Princess groans,

“Max, please don’t give your daddy ideas,” he tells her and Steve needs to take a moment before going back out there because his mind immediately conjures up stupid and beautiful images of a wedding, a white suit, and a black one, a cute flower girl with red hair, a happy family of three but also, way in the back of his mind, the man’s voice referring to himself as ‘daddy’ might have awakened something in him.

Huffing and plastering on a smile he walks out and sees the man blush again but he focuses on his red Knight, “Excellent job, I knew my kingdom was in good hands, you ready to start?”

Max nods going back to her stiff posture and Steve goes to work on her head, making sure she relaxes into a more comfortable position as he goes.

Soon, the hair is done, so he blow-dries it before styling it just like his own since that's what she had asked.

“What do you think?” he asks her just like before and she looks at him through the mirror and shakes her head, giggling when it moves easily with the shorter length, “I love it!” she says and then she gets off the chair and vows at him, “Thank you, King,” she says.

And Steve theatrically vows back at her, grabbing the edges of his apron as if it were a dress. “You are very welcome my brave Knight”

She giggles again and runs to her father, hugging his legs as he stands up.

Steve smiles and moves to the front desk to charge for the service but after Princess pays, he lingers and an awkward silence comes over them.

Steve chuckles and subtly pushes the small box with his business cards on it and the man smiles and takes one, “Well… I-”

“That's my personal number,” Steve says suddenly, nodding at the card, “If you… maybe, If- Just in case” he finishes lamely.

The fear of not seeing him, or Max again suddenly makes him stumble.

But Princess smiles at him, “Max, say goodbye to Your Majesty” he says vowing his head and keeping his eyes locked on Steve the whole time.

Max waves goodbye still shaking her head and messing up with her hair excitedly and then they are gone.

Steve smiles and sighs hoping that isn't the last time he sees them.

It’s 20 minutes later as he’s working on another customer that he feels his phone vibrate with a message and then another, and another, and a few more after that.

He checks his phone once the customer is gone and there’s a bunch of texts from an unknown number.

‘hey its eddie’

‘wondering when youd like to drink that coffee???’

‘i just realized i never told u my name’

‘i was there earlier’

‘for a haircut?????’

‘jesus christ im butchering this’

‘...............i was the princess’

‘really hoping you find this endearing and not pathetic’

He chuckles delighted at his phone as he takes a screenshot and sends it to Robin but not before answering back:

‘I’d love to have coffee with you, princess.’

☕🥐💕

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #i wrote something

2K notes · View notes

auggieblogs · 1 year ago

Text

Curls in Singapore ₊˚⊹♡

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Author's note: Hello, lovelies. I hope everyone is doing fine. This one shot is inspired by, well, me. Tbt last week in Singapore, when Lando got a haircut and in every picture (that I saw) he had his cap on. So, I just assumed he got a bad haircut and had a whole breakdown about it on the gc.

Singapore was alive with the buzz of the Grand Prix, and Lando Norris was no exception to the excitement. He had been considering getting a haircut for a while now, especially after seeing Carlos and Max, sporting fresh trims. But there was one person whose opinion mattered to him the most – you, his girlfriend.

You adored Lando's curly locks. They were his trademark and you loved running your fingers through his fluffy hair. So, when he broached the subject of getting a haircut, you weren't on board with the idea at all.

"Lando, you can't do it!" you protested, pouting as you clung to him in the hotel room. "Your curls are perfect. Don't let anyone touch them!"

Lando chuckled, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes with all the affection in the world. "Come on, love, it's just a trim. I promise it won't be bad."

Reluctantly, you nodded, but you couldn't hide your pout. "Alright, fine. But if they mess up those locks, you're sleeping on the couch, Norris."

Lando kissed your forehead. "Deal."

Hours passed, and Lando had to rush off to his media duties right after his haircut. He hadn't seen you since he left for the salon, so when he returned to the room wearing his McLaren cap, he was met with your dramatic gasp.

"LANDO NORRIS, YOU RUINED THE BEAUTIFUL CURLS, DIDN'T YOU?" you exclaimed, hands on your hips and an exaggerated frown on your face.

Lando couldn't help but giggle, and he took off his cap, revealing his newly styled hair. As the cap came off, you were greeted by a sight that took your breath away. Lando's hair was not ruined; it was better than before. His curls had been styled beautifully, and he looked, well, pretty. Really pretty.

You couldn't help but gape at him, your eyes wide with astonishment. "Wow," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You look amazing."

Lando beamed, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. He walked closer to you, allowing you to run your fingers through his soft curls. "You really think so?"

You nod fervently, your heart swelling with love. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You're so beautiful, Lando."

Lando's smile widened. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Guess I won't be needing that couch tonight, huh?", he added with a playful grin.

You giggled, your fingers still entwined in his curls. "Nope, guess the couch gets to stay empty tonight!"

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 8 months ago

Note

Hey could i request a fic?

Maybe one where teenreader who plays for barça or arsenal gets a nose piercing behind alexia or leahs back ?

just putting this in the same universe and reader as stuck tiny silver flash II barça femeni x teen!r

"there is one other place i wanna go!" you piped up as jana had her car keys in hand, both her and bruna's arms laden with shopping bags as you motioned for them to follow you.

"pollito is this going to take long? i think my arms are going to fall off!" bruna groaned as you rolled your eyes. "nobody told you to buy half the clothes in here bru, sounds like a you problem." you quipped making jana snicker and her best friend kick at her with a scowl.

"what are we doing here? are you getting a hair cut?" jana questioned with a frown as you stopped outside a local salon. "oo you should get bangs! or dye it pink, or blue, or purple, or red, or-" bruna started to ramble before jana's free hand covered her mouth with a sigh.

"not exactly." you smiled innocently as both of their eyes narrowed. "why do i get the feeling we're being dragged into one of her little trouble making schemes." bruna mumbled to jana once her mouth was freed again, jana nodding tiredly in agreement as they both continued in after you.

"wait here, i won't be long." you promised as a worker guided you off and out of their sights. "should we have let her go off with a stranger? is that bad babysitting? was that responsible?" bruna questioned after a minute had passed, jana just shrugging as the two of them took a seat just outside the store on a bench in the middle of the shopping complex.

though when you finally resurfaced it confirmed her question that yes, this was in fact bad babysitting.

"dios mio what is that in your face pequeña!" you rolled your eyes as jana dropped her bags and hurried over to grab your cheeks, turning your head left and right with wide eyes.

"its just a nose stud compañero!" you brushed off both her and bruna's fussing. "how did you do this? did you forge someones signature?" jana questioned again in disbelief. "fraud is a crime pollito, you could go to prison!" bruna added on with a gasp as again your eyes rolled.

"relájese! está bien chica's. you have to be eighteen for a tattoo, sixteen for a piercing." you corrected with a grin, having been planning this for awhile now.

"they are going to kill you so i hope it was worth it pollito." bruna sighed and she didn't have to drop a name for you to know exactly who she was talking about. "i will hide it till it heals, then if they make me take it out it will not close, ningún problema." you shrugged carelessly.

"but you cannot take it out for a few weeks while it heals, sí? what about games? training? you also live with capi!" jana asked, crossing her arms and staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

"engaño." you smiled patting to your shopping bag full of makeup, patting them both on the cheek and striding off toward the exit.

"dios mio jana i was right. she has dragged us into one of her little schemes! estamos tan muertos." bruna moaned throwing her head back and dragging her hands down her face.

"hey! listen to me amiga." brunas eyes widened as jana balled her top in her fists, holding her tightly and yanking her forward so they were nose to nose, the fear obvious in both their eyes.

"the story you posted today? delete it. the ticket for the parking? burn it. the new clothes you bought? hide them. nobody can ever, ever, ever know we brought her here bruna. vale?" jana warned sternly as bruna nodded frantically and her best friend let her go as they hurried after you.

"oye, compañero i think this might be worse than when we got her and vicky drunk at bowling and they threw up everywhere." "imbécil! bruna what part of 'never speak of it again' do you not understand??"

you'd managed to keep your secret for a whole whopping two days by the time training rolled around, which was a god given miracle considering you lived full time with your hawk eyed captain.

careful makeup blending and a flesh colored band aid you'd cut into a tiny circle had served well to hide your new addition, making sure to keep alexia at arms length so she couldn't get close enough to really look at you.

though she was so busy preparing for the weekends match and all the media that came with the el clásico it wasn't hard to slip under her radar for once.

but there was one person you worried might be able to see through your attempted deception, and of course she was the first person you ran into that morning at training, considering she had a nose piercing of her own.

trusting you enough to find your way to the change rooms once inside alexia had left you to your own devices as she hurried off for a quick meeting with all the captains, as was tradition the last session before a game.

"bon dia pollito!" you tried not to tense as aitana appeared beside you, having parked a few cars down in the lot from alexia. "hola tana." you greeted her with a smile, quick to snap your head back forward, grateful she was on your left side and the hidden stud on your right.

the two of you made small talk about your days off as you wandered through the training complex toward the change rooms, the girl of course taking every opportunity to tease you were shorter than her, something that was not very common for the midfielder in a team full of leggy spaniards and scandi's.

but as you turned to push her away and she tried to grab you in a headlock, you gave yourself up by accident.

"espere." the smile dropped from her face and you deflated as she grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back and immediately spotting the backing of the stud in your nostril with a small gasp of surprise.

"tana!" you whined trying to pull away as her grip tightened and she shook her head before letting you go. "estúpida, is this new?" aitana questioned, sending you a warning glare not to be dishonest.

"maybe." you mumbled, giving her a smile as charming as you could muster as she hummed and went to walk off. "don't tell anyone, por favor tana por favor! i will do anything." you zipped around to block her path and begged, clasping your hands together.

"anything?" "anything, promesa! just do not tell, especially not alexia." you pleaded desperately. "vale pollito, i will keep your little secret." aitana started as you breathed out in relief.

"but, for a price." aitana smiled and the twinkle in her eyes had your guard up a little but you knew she had you against the ropes. “and what’s that?” you asked albeit apprehensively.

“no more messing with my things, no more letting mapi mess with my things, no more waking me up on the bus or the plane or the train with the ‘oh tana im bored entertain me!’, no more kicking the ball at my head or the back of my seat, no more squirting water at me and no more giving me the finger with the ‘oh look tana a bird!’. vale?” the older girl raised an eyebrow sternly as you nodded rapidly.

“vale, vale, vale. gracias!” you sighed in relief, squishing her in a hug as she chuckled and patted your back before you let her go, the two of you resuming your walk to the change rooms.

entering the change rooms you flashed a few smiles around as you sat at your cubby, pulling off your trainers and stashing them away as you rifled through your training bag trying to find the medical tape you knew was in there, your ankle a little tight today.

"bon dia pequeña mentirosa." a body dropped next to you, mapi grinning and kissing your cheek as you gagged jokingly and pushed her away, her locker next to yours.

"stop that. i will do it!" mapi rolled her eyes at your attempts to tape up your ankle, pulling your leg up onto her lap as you handed the tape. "something troubling you pollito?" mariona dropped down on your other side with a concerned frown.

"no, just a little tight today." you shook your head as now both older girls gave you a look, mapi strapping up your ankle. "está bien. if it feels off at all i will go see the physios, happy?" you looked between them as they nodded, mario messing up your hair and heading off for the pitch.

eyes roaming around the now half empty change rooms you caught aitana's eye who was talking with keira, and judging from the very slight narrow of the english womans eyes as they studied your face for a mere second or so longer than normal, you knew right away what they were discussing.

you shook your head at the midfielders, aitana sending you an apologetic smile and hurrying off before you could say anything, dragging keira along with her as you prayed to the high heavens both girls kept their mouths shut.

"what?" mapi chuckled seeing the strange look on your face, finishing up your ankle and glancing over her shoulder to try and see what you were looking at. "nothing, gracias maps." you smiled, pulling your leg back down.

"ingrid!" you called out to her girlfriend who was passing by, the norweigan raising an eyebrow as you held up a hair brush and smiled charmingly. "you could not have asked alexia at home?" ingrid chuckled as mapi kissed her cheek briefly and headed off to the pitch.

"alexia cannot even do her own hair, takes her about half an hour to slick it up into a ponytail." you rolled your eyes as ingrid started to brush through your hair, a comfortable silence falling between both of you as the rest of the team slowly filtered out.

"the baby can't do her own hair? awww." lucy teased, playfully kicking at your ankles with a grin as you tried to grab at her but winced as ingrid tugged on your hair in warning, still halfway through braiding it.

"oni!" you called out to your friend who turned around. "your girlfriend needs her leash and collar, she's acting out again." you sniped, lucy squaring up to you before ona rolled her eyes and pulled her away, chatsizing her quietly as lucy sent you a menacing glare as you gav her a fake scared face.

"you need to stop hanging around with maría so much liten, she is a bad influence." ingrid tapped your shoulders as she finished your hair. "she's your girlfriend!" you laughed as you stood, tucked into her side as the taller girls arm draped across you.

"i know, and every day she gives me reason to question why." ingrid sighed as you bumped into her. "no way, you two are so in love its disgusting." you gagged as ingrid playfully reached round to pinch your cheek.

"you will be in love one day liten, and i will be sure to remind your future partner that you think love is disgusting!" ingrid teased, letting go of you as you both smiled and gave a good morning to the social media admin filming the training arrivals.

"how do you know i'm not in love now? or that i will need a future partner?" you gave her a cheeky smile as her eyes widened. "are you-" you'd raced off before she could ask her question, the girl yelling after you that this conversation wasn't over.

"hola!" you launched yourself and near took jana down to the ground, her hands grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up into a proper piggyback with a grunt.

"i was thinking things were too quiet pollito, i was hoping you were sick and we might get a day off from babysitting." jana sighed dramatically as you scoffed. "babysitting! you need babysitting not me." you accused making her chuckle.

"i have to say pollito, you did a good job. if i did not know that you had the stud, i would not notice." bruna marvelled as jana promptly dropped you and grabbed the pair of you by the shirt, dragging you away from the rest of the group.

"what part of we do not speak of it did you not understand? nobody can know we took her there or that we knew about the stud!" jana warned bruna sternly who huffed and tried to pray her hands off her top.

"and you will not tell a soul we knew about it amiga, vale?" jana turned to you now, letting go of bruna and raising an eyebrow when you didn't speak, a roll of your eyes and a nod following.

"perfecta. remember compañero's, when in doubt; deny, deny, deny."

now your makeup and band aid combo may have done the trick for training, nobody batting so much as an eyelid of suspicion toward you.

but what you hadn't accounted for was your teammates being...themselves.

case in point; the water fight which broke out after training was finished.

you didn't think much of it at first, ducking out of the way of mapi's attack and launching your own on cata, laughing as patri and pina used you as a human shield, spraying lucy and mario over your shoulder as you copped the brunt of their own counter attack.

"vale! that is enough for today." alexia yelled out over the squabbles, though there was a hint of a smile on her face and you hadn't missed her spray her own bottle at a few of the younger girls when they weren't looking.

distracted by the feeling of your now soaking wet training top clinging uncomfortably to your body you snatched a towel off mapi, drying your face and arms and not giving it a second though.

that was when there was a tiny silver flash as your stud caught the sun and all hell broke loose.

"what is that?!" "a piercing?!" "who did that to you?!" "what did you put in your face?!" "you put a hole in your skin?!" "who said you could do that pollito?!"

your eyes widened at the questions fired at you one after the other, shrinking into yourself and starting to back away as the older girls advanced, mouths moving at rapid pace.

"don't you dare!" paños grabbed the back of your collar, snagging you as you tried to bolt, a hiss of pain leaving your mouth as alexia grabbed your ear next, dragging you inside and all sorts of angry spanish leaving her mouth.

"sit!" alexia pushed you to sit down at your cubby, flanked by ingrid, paños, irene and frido all glaring down at you. "when?" irene asked sternly as you huffed. "when what." you tried, the stony glares causing your stomach to flip.

"acting cute won't get out out of this one älska. the truth! now." frido warned sternly as you sighed, catching a few of the younger girls watching on curiously, but they all scattered as alexia met them with a hard stare.

"i got it on monday." you answered, looking down at the ground and pulling one knee to your chest, picking at your laces. "where?" alexia asked sharply. "a hair salon." you shrugged still refusing to look up but feeling their eyes burn into you.

"why?" ingrid questioned next. "looks cool and i can." you mumbled with a roll of your eyes. "don't you roll your eyes, drop the attitude." alexia warned as you huffed and mocked her quietly under your breath, whining as her hand smacked the back of your head.

"that hurt!" you rubbed it with a scowl as she now rolled her own eyes. "cannot have hurt more than putting a needle through your face pequeña." irene added on with a scoff as you fell silent again.

"i think it looks badass pollito." pina piped up from a few seats down, paling at the looks it earned her and hurrying over to hide behind patri.

"sí i agree, makes her look tough. which is hard with this cute little baby face!" mapi cooed as she appeared now, pinching your cheeks and admiring the small stud with a nod of approval that had you grinning.

"maría! stay out of it." alexia barked as the girl rolled her eyes, one of the few who wasn't scared (most times) of your fierce captain. "why? she is sixteen now. i had ear piercings at five!" mapi brushed off the issue ignoring her girlfriends eyes baring into her.

"ear sí, not face!" alexia scoffed crossing her arms across her chest. "its not like i got a forehead piercing, so dramatic." you muttered, shrinking and shuffling across a little closer to mapi at the glares which met it

"would you like to say that a little louder?" ingrid sent you a challenging look as her girlfriend wrapped an arm around you. "leave the nena be, it is one little stud. relajarse!" mapi waved them off again.

"who took you to get it nena? you do not drive." paños asked firmly as you couldn't help but let your eyes flicker briefly to jana and bruna who were frantically shaking their heads and waving their arms about. "deny, deny, deny!" jana mouthed at you.

but all it took was that brief millisecond for irene's head to snap around, catching both younger girls in the act as they froze. "you went shopping with the idiotas on monday!" alexia realised as now her head snapped around.

"we didn't know she was gonna do it we took our eyes off her for like a minute and she came back with it! promesa!" bruna blurted out as jana winced and smacked her hand against her forehead.

"you are the worst secret keeper ever!" jana hissed, both of them sprinting off as paños and irene chased after them. "you are taking it out älska." frido stated bluntly as you frowned. "no way!" you protested with a shake of your head.

"yes way. we can do this the easy way or the hard way älska, your choice." the swede warned as alexia and ingrid hummed their agreement and seeing them start to advice mapi's arm left you and she slid slowly away.

"mapi!" you gasped as she darted away. "traitor and a coward!" you yelled after her as she made a heart with her hands and hid behind lucy who rolled her eyes and pushed her away.

"easy or hard nena, choose." alexia warned firmly as you shook your head. "its not coming out, i paid for this!" you decided firmly, standing and holding your head high, hearing a few of the other girls whistle and shake their heads at your words.

"you get her legs, i get her arms, ale takes it out." frido instructed, all three girls nodding as you attempted a getaway, trying to climb up and over the small retaining wall of your cubby but being promptly dragged back down and restrained.

"did you even wash your hands! this is unsanitary alexia i could get an infection!" you yelled trying to squirm away but with no luck as alexia held your head still with one hand and you winced as with one little twist she'd plucked the stud from your nose.

"when we get home i'm searching your room for any other studs and they are being flushed down the toilet. get your bag!" alexia warned as you kicked away ingrid and frido with a scowl. "you're both on my list." you warned seriously, cata and salma oooohing at your words.

"you don't scare us liten." ingrid laughed unbothered, frido mirroring her expression with a smirk. "remember when mario lost an eyebrow? she was on my list." you spoke calmly, packing your belongings up.

"or when pina's cubby had that awful ant infestion? or patris car tyres kept magically deflating? also on my list." you slung your bag over your shoulder, smiling at the somewhat apprehensive looks now present on the tall scandis face.

"adios, traitors." you patted their shoulders as you passed, following after alexia. "pollito are we still on for-" mapi fell silent as your head whipped toward her. "you are also on the list, maría." you warned calmly, narrowing your eyes.

"i helped you create that list!" mapi gasped in disbelief. "sí, and now the student has become the master." you pointed at her menacingly, alexia growing impatient and grabbing you by the straps of your bag hauling you out of the change room.

"vamos pequeña, stop threatening everyone." alexia chuckled dragging you out with her to the carpark as you waved goodbye to a few of the staff, the older girl amused at how quickly your demeanor changed.

"they were not threats, they were promises." you huffed with a deep frown, kicking at a rock. "are you going to be moody and pouty all afternoon over a tiny little stud? estúpida." alexia cooed as you glared at her, sliding into the now unlocked cupra and tossing your bag in the back.

"do you want to be on the list ale?" you warned, shrinking at the fierce glare which it rewarded you with. "discúlpame?" the blonde asked scarily calm with a raised eyebrow. "nothing, lo siento." you mumbled sinking into her seat as she smirked and started up the car.

"buena nena, thats what i thought you said."

#woso community #woso #barca femeni #barca femini x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #fcb femení #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #pollito

835 notes · View notes

coralinnii · 1 year ago

Text

❋If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice❋ ↳ reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy aka villain/ess au part 2 feat: Jade genre: drama, partners in crimes-to-partners in love?, slow burn romance note: sequel to "being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy" Jade ver., no pronouns used for reader, some actions are ethically questionable (Jade and reader are just up to no good),

part one series masterlist

You cursed the lovey-dovey fools who drone on about the bliss of married life, fondly speaking of the joy and romance that leads to the big day and beyond. With the right person, life as someone engaged to be married would be a dream come true.

With the right person, that is

Unfortunately, you didn’t have that pleasure when you’re faced with the man you happened to be engaged to; the mysterious Jade Leech.

“You seemed to be very occupied with something.” With a quizzical look, you asked the teal-haired heir as he sat at his study desk. While you exaggerated, there was a sizable amount of papers atop the merman’s desk, with names and locations you recognised as you managed to glimpse upon the reports. “Am I allowed to inquire about the mountain of reports on your desk?”

Unperturbed, Jade gave you his well-practiced smile. “Of course, I would never hide anything from my wonderful betrothed”

This brazen liar

Having chosen to willingly participate in the Leech family’s goals, you were aware of their plans to monopolize the marine-related business and operations, including taking over the coastal territories from other nobles.

Which was exactly what Jade was currently trying to do apparently, as he had his family’s men research a baron whose territory included a lively strait between this kingdom and a flourishing island nation nearby. But the baron was an incompetent leader with an unfavorable reputation amongst the merfolk and islanders due to his actions as a businessman.

“Baron Byrne seems to be causing quite an issue in his strait as the large amount of cargo ships constantly coming through the strait is disrupting the islanders’ livelihood as well as the merfolk that made the nearby reefs their home…”

“But since he seems to have a good relationship with the prince’s new lover, his behavior is not reprimanded by the royal family,” you continued his thoughts and let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s a greedy, impatient bastard but no one can stop him”

Jade kept his courteous smile but you couldn’t imagine he was thrilled about any of this. Despite the human-merfolk peace treaty being established, the merfolk were used as the antagonists in this world so the story ignored their issues or crimes against them.

“This was a romance webtoon, I supposed. No attention was given to the repercussions of the lives outside of the main leads”

You looked through the reports on the baron’s family and you noticed a more detailed section on a certain person; the baron’s wife to be precise. You recognised the young woman as an admirer of Jade, recalling how envious she seems every time she looks your way. From what you knew, she married the baron for his new status as a noble but fell for Jade when she first saw him at a gathering.

“So you’re planning to go through the wife for information” you let out a noise of intrigued as you looked through the papers “you even found out where the salons and stores she frequents. That’s impressive but tell me, how do you plan to approach her?”

“Oh my, does the notion of me meeting her upset you?” Jade reached for your hand to hold as he looked up to you from his seat, peering at you with convincing concern and acting like a worried fiancé, “I would never intend to hurt you in any way or give doubt to my devotion to you”

“Firstly, don’t mock me by lying so blatantly” you sneered as you pulled your hand from his grasp. “Secondly, I agree that meeting the baron’s wife is the best way to find out about his weakness”

Jade raised his brow inquisitively before changing back into a look of worry, “Then what is it that causes such concern on your face, my dear?”

Again, that fake term of endearment sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’m only asking so I can act accordingly” you looked at the tall merman with mocking sweetness in your eyes. “Should I be the naive partner who knows nothing, or perhaps I’m grieving over the audacity of my dear fiancé meeting with someone other than me?”

For a moment, you thought you saw a glint in Jade’s dual-coloured eyes before a look of amusement took over his face. He chuckled behind his gloved hand before smiling at you, his sharp teeth peeking behind his lips. “I will leave that decision to you, my dear. I’m excited to see what you’ll show me”

Weeks passed since your conversation with Jade as he quickly put his plan into motion, finding chances to meet the baroness by “coincidence” and gaining her trust immediately. You weren’t surprised how quickly Jade managed to befriend the smitten woman. If you were none the wiser, you didn’t have the confidence to say that you could withstand Jade’s good looks and charming persona either (it would be paradise in the underworld before you would ever let Jade know that, however).

Of course, meetings like these tend not to stay secret for long, especially amongst the high social circle. Many of the gossiping noblewomen whispered around about the possible tryst between the lovestruck baroness and the attractive Leech family heir. However, most of the attention fell to you as the supposed tragic lover of this “affair.”

Being part of a well-respected family, you were ultimately the envy of certain nobles who would love nothing more than to pull you off your high horse, in sadistic glee in watching a family like yours be sullied. One of these nobles included the woman involved in the rumour herself, Baroness Byrne.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” the baroness spoke with such fake sincerity, you almost laughed at the poor acting. “Sir Leech and I just get along so well that these rumours seemed to misconstrue our closeness”

It’s almost insulting to think that this woman assumes that you can’t figure out that she was most likely the one to start these rumours in the first place since you knew Jade would try not to catch too much attention if the situation does not call for it. Despite being a married woman, you wondered if she’s hoping to break your engagement and take him for herself.

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be in this nonsense” you scoffed internally but hid your thoughts with a maintained smile (Jade has given you some bad habits). “If she wants to play mind games, then let’s play~”

“It’s quite alright, really. I’m not worried at all” you put on your best smile, a look of understanding displayed in your eyes. “In fact, I’m happy that my fiancé has made a friend like you, Baroness Byrne”

“R-really?” The baroness stuttered which secretly delighted you. You hid your glee with a sickly sweet smile, however.

“Of course, Jade and I tend to be quite busy since we often have to work tirelessly in maintaining our lands, assets, and the responsibilities we will inherit” you sighed as though life bears heavy on your shoulders “We spent so much time together since Jade likes to inspect every valuable item in my possession, taking in all its beauty and worth. He has quite an eye for such things, you see.”

You looked to the baroness, your gaze demanding her eyes to meet yours. Once she did, you curled your lips slightly to display just a hint of taunting smugness. “With the baroness, Jade can enjoy a simple and humble company without much to entice his personal interest.”

One could almost see the steam escaping from the baroness’ face as she turned red with humiliated rage. With that, you decided to swiftly take your leave lest you wanted to get your eyes ripped out by a madwoman.

After some time, you decided to make your way towards the carriage area to go home, you were shocked to see Jade standing outside alone. Once your eyes locked, he immediately made his way to you with an ever-present smile. Was he…waiting for you?

No, that couldn’t be.

“Jade, I assumed that you were still at the ballroom” Last you saw Jade, he was mingling with his brother Floyd and Count Azul.

“Hmm, I was. But then, I heard some commotion amongst the ladies and decided that it’d be best to call it a night.”

You made the right choice to leave when you did, then. You wanted to smile at the little chaos you caused but decided to stamp down that hidden glee.

“Fair enough. That reminds me, you may be receiving an invitation from Baroness Byrne very soon, and it is in your best interest to accept it.”

You seemed to pique Jade’s curiosity, though it seems that you always do. “Oh, and could you share the reason as to why?”

“Because if she fell for my taunt, I would bet that she will try her best to entice you with whatever treasure or asset she can access.” You smirked, a sly glint in your eyes. “And hopefully you can convince her to show her husband’s warehouses where he stores the items the baron imports in, perhaps some hard-to-procure rarities”

From what you see from Jade’s reports on the baron’s history, you’re betting that the greedy noble would be the type to obtain and sell anything that would bring him a fortune. With his focus on sea-related products, he might be acquiring and selling items from the merfolk community without their approval which is currently illegal with the peace treaty. Merfolk-specific products were now harder to obtain through human merchants which increased their value even more.

“Pearls, mermaid scales, valuable minerals from the seabed…anything in the possession of a human who intends to sell them is grounds for punishment for treaty violation”

As if your minds were one, Jade was quick to realize your plans to trap the baron family. It was sneaky, dangerous, and if it works it would be ruining two people with no hope of salvaging their reputation. The baron would be stripped of his title and his merchant career while the baroness would be shamed for inviting an engaged man in an attempt to seduce him. Jade knew that you were intriguing, willing to act however necessary to protect yourself but to instigate the downfall of others, even if they were guilty of their crimes…

Jade can’t ever take his eyes off you.

Still, he had to ask you something, “You seem to have quite the confidence in me. Do you not worry I will not live up to your expectations?”

The teal-haired man expected a snarky quip from you or perhaps question him back over his competence. But instead, you furrowed your brows and looked at him adorably (in his perspective) with confusion.

There was one thing you were sure of; Jade Leech would never get caught. No matter the situation, no matter the evidence, Jade will always find a way to slither his way out of trouble when he wants to. You were better off worrying about your own safety than his.

“Why would I worry? You’ll never fail.”

Your voice was so full of conviction, without a hint of doubt or hesitation. Jade felt a strange surge of glee upon hearing your answer. He found a compatible partner that never fails to amuse him. You brought new entertainment to his personal life.

Jade let out a chuckle, a smile that almost seems genuine to you. The tall man looked to you, his mix-matched eyes staring with such unusual softness. Gently, he took your hand in his own so he could raise it to his lips where he then pressed a soft kiss upon your skin. In surprise, you locked gaze with Jade’s eyes as you felt warmth coursing through you though you played it off as uneasiness towards Jade’s strange actions. You continued to watch Jade as he kept his mouth barely touching your hand, but you could feel every brush of his lips as he spoke close to your fingers. “I will not disappoint you so keep your eyes on me, my dear.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #villainess au #twisted wonderland imagines #jade leech #twst jade x reader #jade x reader #jade leech x reader

1K notes · View notes

thedensworld · 4 months ago

Text

How to Summon Demon

Pairing: S.Coups x reader

Genre: Supernatural AU, humor, angst

Summary: your friends and you playfully played game to call the Hot Demon in high school. What if he actually summoned?

"Nothing's happened to Jinah, right?" Sonhee asked anxiously once they were done spelling. Jinah, sitting in the middle of the other three girls, sighed with relief. Despite her brave front in offering herself as the bride of the demon, deep inside, she was a bit scared.

"Why do we even play this game?" Hana scoffed, pushing herself onto the bed and lying down, looking at you, Sonhee, and Jinah with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

You shrugged and followed Hana, mumbling, "Just wanted to make Sonhee happy." Sonhee threw a playful protest, her face lighting up in mock offense.

"Hey, I just said it would be fun. Wasn't it fun?" Sonhee turned to everyone, seeking validation. Jinah nodded slightly, still feeling the remnants of her fear, while you and Hana exchanged glances before shrugging noncommittally.

"It's almost midnight; let's sleep. We have school tomorrow," you reminded them.

Sitting in the café years later, you watched with pride how your friends had grown. Sonhee, now with her little girl in a stroller, Jinah with a baby on the way, and Hana recently married to a Singaporean man she met on a business trip. Each of them had blossomed in their own way, their lives a testament to the passage of time and the enduring strength of your bond.

The four of you laughed, the tension dissipating as you reminisced about old times. Living together in the same dorm room 15 years ago had forged an unexpectedly intimate relationship among you all. You remembered the countless nights spent talking until dawn, the shared secrets, and the unspoken bond that had formed over time. The room had witnessed your collective fears and triumphs, your tears and laughter.

You felt a warm sense of pride and nostalgia as you observed how much the four of you had grown over the past 15 years. Meeting at 15, you were now on the brink of your 30s, each of you carving out your own path in life. The years had flown by, but the connection remained strong, a comforting constant amidst the changes.

"Can you believe it's been 15 years?" you mused aloud, smiling at the thought.

Sonhee laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

Jinah nodded, gently rubbing her baby bump. "And when you're with the right people."

Hana raised her glass of iced coffee, a twinkle in her eye. "To us, and to many more years of friendship."

As you all clinked glasses, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey you had shared, and excited for the many memories yet to be made.

As you all clinked glasses, your phone rang, breaking the moment. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was your manager calling. You answered quickly, noting the urgency in their voice.

Jinah grinned playfully. "Look at you, Mr. Rising Star. Who would've thought our quiet and calm 15-year-old would become a famous actor?"

Everyone chuckled, and you shrugged with a modest smile. "Yeah, who would've thought?"

Your manager's voice interrupted again, reminding you of your upcoming salon appointment. "Sorry, guys, I have to go. My manager is waiting for me," you said, standing up.

"Always busy," Hana teased, but her eyes were warm with understanding.

Sonhee added, "Thanks for making time for us, even with your hectic schedule."

You nodded, feeling a pang of regret for leaving so soon. "I'll see you all soon, I promise." With a wave of goodbye, you stepped out of the café, the cool breeze a contrast to the warmth you felt inside from the reunion.

As you approached the car, you saw your manager waiting impatiently. "Sorry for the wait," you said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"No problem. We have to keep moving if we want to stay on schedule," your manager replied, already pulling out into the street.

As the car sped through the bustling city streets, you felt a sudden, jarring jolt. The car veered wildly, and you heard the heart-stopping sound of screeching tires. The world seemed to move in slow motion as another vehicle collided with yours, the impact sending a shockwave through your body. The sound of shattering glass filled your ears, and the force of the crash threw you violently against the seatbelt. The world around you faded into an ominous silence as everything went black.

You got into a car accident.

In the darkness, you found yourself in a strange liminal space, caught between life and death. A surreal atmosphere enveloped you, a mix of chilling stillness and an ethereal glow. Memories of your friends, your career, and your life flashed before your eyes, mingling with an eerie quiet. Time felt distorted, stretching out endlessly, as if you were floating in a void.

Suddenly, you felt a pull, an irresistible force drawing you back to consciousness. You opened your eyes to find yourself in an unfamiliar, opulent room. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate designs, and ancient tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of otherworldly realms. The air was thick with an intoxicating scent, both alluring and unsettling.

Before you stood a man of striking appearance. His features were almost otherworldly—sharp, chiseled, and undeniably handsome. Yet, there was something intimidating about him, an aura of power that made your heart race with unease.

"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "You've crossed a threshold few ever do."

You struggled to sit up, confusion and fear mingling in your mind. "Where am I? Who are you?" you managed to ask.

The man took a step closer, his intense gaze never leaving yours. "You are in a place between worlds," he replied enigmatically. "As for me, you may call me S.Coups."

You jolted awake, your last memory of the car accident with your manager flashing vividly before you. "Am I... dead? Are you Death?" you asked hesitantly, the urge of panic clear in your eyes as the man named S.Coups stared at you.

He smiled and walked over to a nearby sofa. You realized that you were lying on a bed in what appeared to be a luxurious bedroom. The sheer comfort and opulence of the room sent waves of confusion through you. If you were dead, how could you be in such a paradise-like place? Had you lived your life so righteously that you deserved a place like this? And who exactly was this S.Coups?

"I saved you," S.Coups said, breaking the silence.

You watched him breathlessly. "From the accident?" you asked, and he nodded.

You sighed in relief, thinking you weren't dead yet. But your relief was short-lived as he continued. "Yet," he added, as if he could read your thoughts. "Your body is likely in the hospital now, undergoing surgeries and treatments. What you are right now is your soul, caught in between."

His words echoed in your mind: a place between worlds. The gravity of the situation began to dawn on you.

"I'm a demon. I've been waiting for you for 15 years."

You watched his face intently, then suddenly burst into laughter. Your head turned around to find the hidden cameras as you said, "Is this a prank? Was the accident earlier part of the setup?" You smiled, still half-believing it was a joke.

"If it is, you better stop. It's not funny anymore, and I'm going to sue everyone involved," you continued, standing from the bed and walking toward him.

S.Coups smiled and laughed softly at your boldness. He stood in front of you, his tall figure towering over you as he approached closer. Your breath hitched, intimidated by his presence.

"I'm the demon you summoned 15 years ago, and I saved you from death because you're my wife," he stated calmly.

You laughed again, shaking your head. "Stop it. How do you guys know about the little game I played with my friends? Did they tell you?"

Suddenly, you felt your body plummet, as if falling from a great height. Your legs weakened, and your head spun. The room around you distorted, everything warping and blurring except for S.Coups and his intense gaze. Your body fell toward him, and he caught you, his hold steady and strong. In an instant, you were back in the bedroom, gasping for breath.

You pushed away from him, your heart pounding as the realization hit. This wasn't a prank. It wasn't a real bedroom. It was indeed a place between worlds.

"Do you believe it now?" S.Coups asked, his voice steady and unyielding.

You stared at him, the truth settling heavily in your mind. The memories of your friends, the innocent game, and the promise you had made all those years ago now seemed to carry a weight you hadn't understood at the time. The opulent room, his enigmatic presence, and the surreal experience all pointed to one undeniable fact: this was real.

"What do you want from me?"

Seungcheol, once trapped in an eternal detention, was finally released. The 700-year-long punishment had ended, but he couldn't return to his world. Instead, he found himself once again in the place between worlds, now known as the demon S.Coups.

S.Coups' role was to punish evil in the human world, a decree from God for Seungcheol's past transgressions when he was a human. "You will harvest what you planted," was the divine edict, and Seungcheol, now as S.Coups, had to enforce it.

He thought his penance was complete, but God had another plan. A future wife. When Seungcheol learned that his future wife would be a human soul, just like him, he felt a wave of relief. But days turned into years, and no one was given to him. The endless wait began to weigh heavily on his spirit.

Until one night, a group of teenage girls summoned him. Among them was the girl who offered herself as his bride, but another girl caught his eye.

Y/n.

His eyes widened in recognition. After a thousand years, he could finally see you again. "You can have her now," he heard the voice of God, instructing him to claim his bride.

"What will happen to her?" Seungcheol asked, his voice trembling.

"She will die. Her soul will be bonded to you," came the solemn reply.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted to the girl who had captivated him. "How about her?" he asked, pointing to you.

There was a pregnant pause before he heard another voice, filled with a knowing sadness. "So you still remember her?"

Seungcheol closed his eyes, the weight of centuries pressing down on him. "Is this part of the never-ending punishment? That you won't let us be together?"

As you stood there, grappling with the enormity of the situation, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of fear and curiosity. The life you had known felt distant and fragile, replaced by a reality that defied all logic and expectation.

"What do you want from me?" Seungcheol heard you ask, your voice tinged with a mix of desperation and anger. "Why me? Jinah was the one who sacrificed!" you shouted, and Seungcheol took a step back unconsciously, taken aback by your sudden rage.

He watched as you shook your head, your hands running through your hair in frustration. "What about my family? What are they going to do without me?"

Seungcheol closed his eyes, a flash of your family—your mother and siblings—discussing your inheritance while you still lay on the operating table, clenching his heart. Even after years, you were still a people's person, and yet you were still betrayed by those you loved.

Seungcheol took a deep breath and gently took your hand, touching you for the first time in a thousand years. He was glad you didn't fight his touch. "I chose you. That's why you're here," Seungcheol said softly.

Your eyes softened as tears welled up, ready to stream down your cheeks. He watched as you sighed and then sobbed, your emotions overwhelming you.

"Why did you choose me? Tell me the reason!" you demanded, your voice cracking with emotion.

There was a pregnant pause before Seungcheol looked you deeply in the eyes and asked, "Do you really want to know the answer?"

"Yes, this is part of your punishment. I planted her into your heart, but you decided to kill her in your past life. Fate has turned its back on you," the divine voice intoned.

Seungcheol cried out in regret, "Forgive me! It was an impulsive move driven by emotion. I love her, I really love her."

"That's your consequence," the voice replied sternly.

"What must I do to have her as my wife again? I'll do anything, I'll take any burden," Seungcheol pleaded desperately.

"Are you sure?" the voice asked, its tone grave.

Seungcheol nodded, desperation evident in his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

The voice continued, "She will die in 15 years in a car accident. You will have a chance to claim her soul at that moment. However, once you save her, her soul will awaken without any memory of you. She will hate you and treat you the opposite of how she used to. Your powers will fade. And lastly, you will be haunted by the memory of how you killed her until she finally comes to love you again."

As Seungcheol stood there, tears streaming down his face, the weight of the punishment and the path ahead seemed almost unbearable. But his love for you was unwavering, and he knew he would endure any hardship to be with you again.

Seungcheol jolted awake, his heart pounding. He stared at his palms and breathed a sigh of relief when he found no blood. The haunting had started, and he wasn't sure how long he could survive seeing himself kill you over and over again.

He covered his face, and sobs escaped his mouth. He couldn't control his emotions as his powers faded once he claimed your soul. This was the worst punishment ever given to him—loving you more and more but also being haunted by the memory of killing you repeatedly.

Seungcheol had been a crown prince, married to you, the daughter of one of his father's ministers. It wasn't an arranged marriage; in fact, he had liked you from the first time he saw you. However, as he became increasingly distracted by military duties, he grew distant from you.

Your father, the minister, was discovered to be one of the emperor's betrayers, plotting to murder the king and his family. The order to eliminate everyone in your father's family became serious, and even you, the prince's wife, were targeted.

"Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please, tell me this isn't true. Tell me my father’s actions won't tear us apart."

Seungcheol's heart ached at the sight of you, his beloved wife, so vulnerable and frightened. But the bitter taste of betrayal gnawed at him. "I wish I could," he said, his voice cold. "But the betrayal runs deep, and the emperor has decreed that your father's entire family must be punished."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gripped his hands tighter. "I had no knowledge of his plans. I swear to you, Seungcheol, I am innocent."

He pulled his hands away, stepping back. "How can I trust you? Your father plotted to kill the emperor and his family. How do I know you weren't part of it?"

You looked at him, shocked and hurt. "You really believe I would betray you? I am your wife, Seungcheol. I love you."

His eyes flashed with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Love? How can I be sure? Maybe you were waiting for the right moment to strike, just like your father."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, that's not true. I would never harm you."

Seungcheol clenched his fists, struggling with the turmoil inside him. "Your father betrayed the kingdom. The law is clear. Everyone in his family must be punished."

You stood up, desperation in your voice. "We can run, leave the palace, start a new life somewhere far away from all of this."

Seungcheol's face twisted with pain. "Running would only bring more misery. We would be hunted, and our lives would be filled with fear and uncertainty. I cannot bear to see you live like that."

Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, there was a silence filled with unspoken words. "Then what will you do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

His face contorted with sorrow as he reached out to touch your cheek. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But I cannot let them harm you. I would rather end your life myself than see you suffer at the hands of others."

You stepped back, shock and disbelief written on your face. "You would kill me? How could you say such a thing?"

Tears streamed down his face as he dropped to his knees. "Because I love you," he cried. "I cannot let you suffer. If there is any way to spare you pain, even if it means taking your life, I will do it. But please, know that I do this out of love, not malice."

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. "How can love lead to this? How can you claim to love me and still be willing to take my life?"

Seungcheol sobbed, his heart breaking. "I don't know, but I cannot bear to see you in pain. Please, forgive me."

You fell to your knees beside him, your tears mingling with his as you held each other. "I love you, Seungcheol," you whispered. "But I cannot forgive this. I cannot understand how love can lead to such a cruel fate."

In that moment, Seungcheol knew that he had lost you, not just physically but emotionally. The bond that had once brought you together was now shattered by the weight of duty and betrayal. He held you close, the two of you wrapped in a final embrace as the night closed in around you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with sobs. "I'm so sorry."

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, he prepared to do the unthinkable, driven by a whirlwind of emotions—love, betrayal, and regret—praying that one day, in another life, he might find a way to make things right.

As he brought the dagger closer to your chest, your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I wish I would never love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, the last breath escaping your lips.

Seungcheol's heart shattered at your words, the weight of your loss crashing down on him with unbearable force. He held you close as life slipped away from you, his soul forever marked by the tragic end of your love.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups imagine #scoups smut #scoups imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader

187 notes · View notes

elisabethdeep-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Gotta make a post about my best DunMeshi neurospicy boi

Lotta content out there about Laios' autistic traits but where o where is the Senshi rep?

Senshi's dedication to Dungeon trophic systems makes Laios' special interest look like a well-thumbed pamphlet. (Granted Senshi has had significantly longer to cook; Laios is a baby).

Senshi's limited emoting is baked-in to his character model- that thousand yard stare, most of his face occluded by his habitual helmet (masked, even...... How many folks pine for covid masks obviating the need to manage their faces constantly?)

He overheard someone mention his special interest and Walked Right Up to a Group of Strangers to brazenly asplain them a thing. Marcille makes a bridge-mending bid regarding the mosses in the scorpion hotpot (after her previous truculent outbursts) and he totally deadpans her, because he didn't even notice.

He is VERY COMMITED to his ethical position on dungeon ecology. More than once he's disrupted Marcille Right at the point of release of a spell, after she's been chanting for like a paragraph, because she's going to contravene some principle of his.

Also

Speaking of Marcille, he demonstrates some pretty rigid, black-and-white thinking around magic, that doesn't seem internally consistent. He's repeatedly reanimating magical constructs (golems), an explicitly controlled magical act, but is Very Very reluctant to submit to being charmed with WaterWalk; his spoken reasoning about this just doesn't hold water.

Oh and he's totally neglected his personal hygiene for basically ever. He's averse to cleaning up for the sake of being bespelled, but other than magic, seems fine with getting the salon treatment. This isn't a Toph Beifong 'protective layer of earth', he's just forgotten to care about not being covered with monster gore.

PDA? The fellow has one (1) social skill, namely, he exercises any discretion on opening his mouth to argue. But that holds him back exactly NONE when he decides he's done listening. The first time we see this is gathering Mandrakes, when he doesn't SAY he's done with Marcille's opinions, but he Does just go ahead and exercise his damn autonomy. a MUCH stronger example is when Chilchuck is guiding them through the trap rooms. Senshi gets roundly (and rightly!) chewed out by Chilchuck, and his response isn't the sensible 'sorry Chilchuck, maybe I could walk more directly behind you so I can more closely match your steps', but to BRAZENLY DANCE ALL OVER THE TRAP FLOOR! the only reason that doesn't kill the whole party is The Plot. It's not even that he doesn't appreciate Chilchuck's skill- he just don't like getting chastised! Same with Anne the Kelpie! Senshi's gonna do what Senshi's gonna do! He WILL not be rushed, he WILL not be chastised, he WILL not be directed! How do we think he came to be living in a dungeon all by himself in the first place!!

AND THE BREAD!

THIS IS NOT THE DEMAND OF A NEUROTYPICAL DWARF

Look there's more. After Chilchuck's impassioned and heartfelt plea, Senshi suggests they should return to the surface because they're 'low on seasoning'.

He's a dwarf who turned his adamantium shield into a cookpot.

He can meticulously maintain his mithril cooking knife but not his axe.

He responds well to other characters meeting him halfway but initiates few (no?) such bids himself. There's rarely any guile in Senshi, and when he is being shifty, he's Bad At It- and again, usually its in service of demand avoidance, like when he capitalises on Marcille's toilet break to reanimate his golems.

Senshi is the monomaniac that society has spent Decades trying to iron out of my wrinkly brain.

I hope to see him also find a place in the neurosparkly constellations.

#why no tism love for Senshi #I'm worried it's cos he's ambiguously/fantasy POC-coded #all power to ppl seeing themselves in Laios tho #lotta brain weirdos in this show #dungeon meshi #senshi #autism #autistic senshi #neurodivergent #delicious in dungeon #endless gratitude for the giffers

232 notes · View notes

souliebird · 11 months ago

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Words: 4.2k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap.

As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness.

Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses.

You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown.

Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation.

But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up.

Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in.

Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night.

The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.

Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.

Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out.

It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”

Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”

“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”

You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.

Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.

“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”

You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched.

You bite your lip, then dare to push.

“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”

She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.

“He's talking to a frog!”

“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.

“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”

It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie.

“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question.

“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.

“Yes, please.”

She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now.

She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can.

She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand.

Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."

Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know.

Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.

You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.

You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.

Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself.

“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.

You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.”

He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”

Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them.

They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”

Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt.

He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time.

You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you.

“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter.

Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it.

You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter.

How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?

Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay.

“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”

Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey.

“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt?

“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”

It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead.

You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away.

Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.

She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least.

You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.

“Thank you, Mommy!”

She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.

“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.

“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”

Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode.

“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.

“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.”

Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.

Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance.

“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it.

“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”

Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”

Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it.

Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”

“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path.

Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”

You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality.

You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track.

Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt.

You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”

“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.

Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”

“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.

“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”

“Froggy!”

“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”

“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.

“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.

“Ribbit ribbit!”

Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”

“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.

“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.

“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying.

But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”

Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”

Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.”

“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”

Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.

“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”

There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”

“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”

“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.

“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?”

His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”

“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”

“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.

“What type of noises do piggies make?”

“Oink-oink-oink!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”

You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo!”

Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”

You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue.

“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.

“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you.

“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.

“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”

“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.

“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen.

She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”

He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him.

You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be.

You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world.

This is what you want your life to be like, you decide.

You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.

So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock

503 notes · View notes