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lovelivision · 23 days ago

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LET'S SUMMON A DEMON.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 17k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when summoning a demon is successful, you suddenly find your life turned upside down. both you and the demon getting more than you bargained for in the other.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, mentions/depictions of reader being stalked, mentions/depictions of the supernatural, light blood warning, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, virgin!reader, choso probably ooc (demon)

This wasn’t a good idea hours ago and it’s certainly not a good idea now. Your friend rocked up earlier today, rambling about how she’s had a fantastic idea to summon a demon and bind it to do your bidding. Muttering something about needing revenge against one of her coworkers for always eating her lunch.

At the time, you had looked her square in the eyes and said, “You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” her eyes had sparkled and her mouth was curled up in an overly excited smile, “Don’t tell me you’re scared?” She was goading you and you knew it.

It’s fair to be scared though, you think anyways. You haven’t told her – or anyone for that matter – but you have a predilection towards the supernatural that you tend to keep to yourself. So, you very much believe and you very much were scared.

By the way she was talking about it, you could see she wasn’t completely serious, not believing that you’d actually successfully summon a demon. You however, well, you weren’t convinced it would work but only because you have no idea where she had gotten the summoning spell from, otherwise you one-hundred percent believe it’s possible to summon something otherworldly.

In the back of your mind, you thought it possible and if it was, you seriously doubt she’ll be able to contain the thing. So no, you did not summon a demon with her, at least… not at first. You had denied to, vehemently in fact, but the girl is good at one thing and it’s convincing you to follow through on horrible ideas.

She is the one common denominator in all your questionable actions and it doesn’t help that she’s obsessed with the occult and witchcraft and ghosts and just about every other ‘spooky’ thing you can think of. How many times did you see or feel something and have to pretend you didn’t? You lost count a long time ago.

Things are attracted to you, so you stay away, or at least you pretend you don’t see them, it makes your life easier. Telling her would just result in her curiosity piquing and possibly putting you at risk and you’re certainly not going to tell her of your ‘ability’ or unfortunate circumstance, not today… or ever.

Despite your better judgement and despite her history of having bad ideas, you’re sat across from each other on your living room floor. Floorboards marked with some kind of summoning circle drawn in a red paint pen she had brought with her. A little bowl is sitting in the centre of it, what looks like miscellaneous herbs and paper sitting in it.

“This is stupid,” you grumble at her, looking at all the candles she’s set up and lit, far too many in your opinion.

“Shush,” her tone is sharp, “I’m trying to focus,” she’s squinting down at the old looking book she has sat in her lap.

It’s actually really old looking, “Where did you get that?”

Groaning, she looks through her lashes at you, “Seriously, be quiet, do you want this to work or not?”

Tone dead when you immediately reply, “Not.”

“Sceptic,” she rolls her eyes.

Scoffing, you accuse, “You don’t even think it will work.”

“Ah, But I hope it will,” a smile is present on her lips again.

It’s quiet after that, unsettling so, but her sudden words are even more unsettling. Murmuring some kind of incantation, the words send a shiver down your spine, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

The lights in your apartment are off but they flicker on for a second before going back off, you don’t like this at all. You don’t think she feels it but you do, the air is charged and all your hairs are standing on end.

Her words don’t stop though, eyes focused on the words in front of her, the feeling inside you keeps increasing. Like it’s pitching higher and higher, it’s making you feel high-strung. When she reaches the end of the page, it all drops at once. The feeling completely gone from you, like she messed it up at the last second or like there’s more that needs to be done.

Your friends voice shocks you, “Man… the lights flicking on totally had me thinking it would work.” She sounds disappointed.

Trying to sound neutral, you hum at her, “You know it never does…”

She seems completely unaffected, probably not realising just how close she seemed to be to summoning something you probably shouldn’t mess around with. The fact it didn’t work is for the best.

“Whatever, you wanna watch a movie or something now?” She gets up easily, hands patting her thighs as she does.

Warily, you ask, “What kind?”

Shooting you an evil smile, she gleams, “The Exorcist.”

Grabbing a cushion off the couch beside you and chucking it at her, “Oh, fuck off.”

Catching it easily she laughs and tosses it back on the couch before helping you up off the floor. You do watch a movie together but it is not ‘The Exorcist’.

It’s late when she’s shuffling out your apartment door, you’d told her she was welcome to stay but she had said her parents were visiting early tomorrow and didn’t have faith in herself getting there before them if she stayed.

Of course, she didn’t clean up her mess, left everything behind. Almost everything, she remembered to take the book with her. Sighing to yourself, you wander over to the summoning circle. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and crouching down, you reach into the little bowl, wondering just what she had put in there.

Something sharp pricks at your finger and you hiss through your teeth, not expecting it. When you pull back, you’ve accidentally left drops of blood in the bowl and inside the circle itself, what the fuck did she put in there?

Looking at your finger, you can see the little amount you’re still bleeding. Cursing your friend internally, you’re about to get up when the lights in your apartment suddenly go out. All the candles that had long since been extinguished flick back on, that heavy feeling weighs in the air again and you want to run but you’re frozen to your spot.

A cold feeling runs down your spine and the room feels like it’s full of static electricity, your blood growing hot quickly. Your eyes shut for a moment and you hope whatever is happening stops soon, pretend you don’t see it, pretend you don’t see it, you chant to yourself. It’s always worked before; you pretend you can’t see anything and you get left alone.

Though that may not ring true when you’ve literally summoned whatever it is into your apartment of your – almost – own free will. When you open your eyes, it’s hard to see. All the candles having gone out, but a pair of black boots are stood in front of you. You’re still crouching down on your haunches, head tilted down, the boots are throwing you off… do demons wear boots?

Whatever it is, is stoic, unmoving, just standing in front of you and waiting. Attempting to be brave, you pry your eyes up, scaling its body and… it’s… a man? Well, appears to be anyway, it’s– he’s standing there, looking down at you, somewhat impatiently.

His expression doesn’t change, “Do all humans crouch on the floor for this long or are you unique in that aspect?”

You frown at that; you know when you think demon you expect them to be murderous and angry but not… verbally hostile. “I’m scared.”

He squints at you, “Stop it, it’s inconvenient to me.”

“Having a demon in my apartment is inconvenient to me,” you mumble.

His arms cross and he seems genuinely ticked off by your statement, “Oh? Maybe you shouldn’t have summoned me then.”

Finally, you gather yourself enough to shoot up off the floor, standing to your full height, which feels like a poor choice when you realise he still towers over you. It’s not just his height that’s intimidating though, mostly you think it’s just him, his essence, his aura? Energy? You don’t know but he’s what you were feeling, the overwhelming pressure that makes your blood hot.

“Hmm,” he leans forward slightly, getting a closer look at you, “You’re a bit interesting, aren’t you?”

You don’t know what exactly he’s seeing but you don’t like the implication, “No.”

“No?” He doesn’t understand why you’d deny it, to him, it’s fairly obvious that you are different than most humans of today’s age. He leans back out of your space but keeps his eyes trained on you, “So…”

You’re still frightened but he’s not done anything, he’s not moved his two feet from that same spot he first appeared in, “So what?”

Sighing, he groans, “What do you want?” When you don’t speak straight away, he adds, “My interest is fleeting, tell me what you want so I can leave.”

“What I want…?”

“Yes, that’s what the summon was for,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Why mess with things you don’t understand?”

Your voice is smaller than you want it to be throughout this whole interaction, “I didn’t mean to summon you…”

He looks down at the summoning circle and all the candles, all signs pointing towards yes, you did mean to summon him.

You rush to explain, albeit poorly, “Okay, I know how it may look like I meant to but I didn’t mean to.”

He raises a brow at you, “This is incredibly annoying; you know that right?”

As you look up at his unamused face, you feel your eyes burn with your question, “Are you going to kill me?”

He grimaces at you, “Kill you? Do you know about how any of this works?”

“Not really, no…” your eyes flick behind him for a second, “…I meant it when I said I didn’t mean to summon you.” As your eyes adjust to the dark, you can take in his appearance more. Dark hair and eyes, pale skin, you regretfully notice that he’s attractive. Though, that’s hardly surprising, wouldn’t you want to be appealing to the people you wish to trick?

His head tilts at you but he stays quiet, he’s hoping you will offer the information yourself, asking you things has been woefully unhelpful so far. Only serving to make you more anxious and confused about what’s happened.

The silence is becoming unbearable to you. It’s the way he’s just staring at you, like he’s interrogating you with his gaze, “My friend wanted to summon you… not me.” You don’t know how much you should tell him.

He clicks his tongue, “So, why am I bound to you and not your friend?”

Bound? He’s bound to you, oh this cannot bode well, “I don’t know?”

Scratching at the back of his neck, his tone is tense, “Just tell me how the summoning happened. What did you do?”

Your hands lift in defence, “Not much at all, honest.”

For the first time since he appeared here, he moves and grabs your wrist, his hand pulling yours close. He inspects your finger, the one with the nick on it, “You bled.”

It’s scary, you’re scared, he’s fast and strong and now you know he can move and was just choosing not to, “Only a little bit… not on purpose.”

Dropping your hand again, he moves back, giving you space, “But you did.”

“Yeah.”

Frowning, he explains, “You’re the one who bled so now I’m bound to you, not your little friend.”

You nod as if this is all common sense, as if summoning a demon is so natural to you, “Oh… I see, okay, well… can you stop… being bound… to me?”

“In short? No.”

You guffaw at him, “What?”

He scrunches his brows, “Did your friend not bother explaining any of it to you?”

“Obviously not,” your answer was unintentionally sharp and you feel bad, since he’s been, well not kind but he’s not hurt you, “Sorry, no… she didn’t… How exactly does it work?”

“The way this particular binding works is – you summon and bind me with blood, which you have done,” he looks down at your pricked finger, “Then, I can’t leave until you ask a favour of me. After I have completed it, I can leave but I will still be bound to you and when you call my name, I’ll be summoned back and I can’t leave until you ask a new favour of me.” His frown settles deep on his features, “Essentially, girl, you have bound me to you forever.”

You’re wide eyed and surprised, who knew binding spells were so… permanent? “Oh… that’s… not nice, sorry…” You purse your lips, “Is there not… a spell to counteract it?”

“No,” he looks down his nose at you, features resetting back to neutral, “You shouldn’t have been able to summon me in the first place, I thought I got rid of all your human books that contained the information.”

Your brain gets a little stuck on ‘human books’, the implication of ‘demon books’ interesting to you and also amusing. He seems very forthcoming but you’re still cautious, “Why tell me all this? Would it not be easier to use underhanded trickery and get me to ask for a menial favour and leave without telling me your name?”

His gaze sharpens at you, “A ‘favour’ has to be specified, I don’t follow your every whim. You have to specify that the favour you’re asking for is the one I am required to follow through on.”

It’s awfully particular, it feels like whoever figured out how to bind him was very careful about how to do so in a way that would benefit them most, “Okay… you know it’s not lost on me that you’ve not mentioned your name.”

“Names have power to demons,” his brow twitches, like he’s annoyed that you’d noticed that, “You’ve not mentioned your name either.”

“You’ve not asked for it,” you shrug, “Human names don’t hold that much significance though.” Not as much as demons, considering you can literally summon him with his.

“You’re not going to give me your name?” He’s taken aback by your unwillingness.

Shaking your head, you say, “Not until you give me yours.”

His brow raises at you, interested, “My name will mean you can summon me freely.”

“I suppose so but I don’t really have any intention of using it like that,” you’re not lying, you don’t even intend on asking a favour, you mean, what the hell are you meant to do with a blood bound demon?

Your only intent is uncovering more information, he’s giving you answers and telling you things freely but he’s also keeping things from you, specific information. You’re not dumb, you’re not going to trust some demon just because he – presently – doesn’t seem to want to bring you any harm.

He challenges, “Ask a favour so I can leave then.”

You’re blunt and straight to the point, “I don’t want any favours from you.” He looks completely annoyed by your answer and you can understand why, “…You’re not going to kill me are you?”

He grits his teeth, “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” You find that unlikely to be the truth.

He speaks slowly, “I am capable of doing so but I can’t.”

“So, which is it? Can or can’t?”

“I can but I won’t,” he rolls his shoulders.

“Why not?”

“You have a lot of questions,” he’s growing tired of answering them, “The bind means I can’t harm you.”

Thinking on it for a second, you consider how to ask your next question, “What about the bind makes it so you could theoretically harm or kill me but also means you can’t?”

He sighs like he doesn’t really want to answer you, “We are bound. If you die I die–”

“–So why use the word harm?”

He stops, “What?”

“You said harm not kill,” it’s an interesting distinction, “Do you also take on whatever injury I may get?”

His eyes are intense, paying close attention to you, “Anything other than something of your own doing or natural occurrences I will be aware of… though, I imagine I probably won’t feel it as much as you would.” He cracks his neck, “I could torture you into asking a favour but it would hurt me too, though again, not as much as it would you.”

You’re trying to sort through everything he’s said when he interrupts your thoughts, “You’re getting very caught up on if I’m going to do something to you, if it matters, I wouldn’t want to even if I could.”

That gives you pause, “Why tell me that?”

He waves you off, “You’re very stiff, it’s uncomfortable to look at.”

He answers properly when you ask him things directly… you don’t know if he’s choosing to or if he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Everything you know about demons are the things that everyone knows, or the things your friend has told you but you don’t exactly trust her sources. In either case you’re unsure if you can even trust any of his answers so far.

Even though you won’t believe his answer fully, you ask anyway, “Have you lied at all?”

Shrugging, he says, “Not so far,” and then he gives you the same question, “Have you?”

“Not intentionally.”

He hums at you, intrigued by your answer.

Against your better judgement, or will really, you’re beginning to relax slightly. His presence is overwhelming but after sitting in it for a bit, it’s not… off putting. It’s not a feeling you’re completely unfamiliar with, the little shadows that follow you have the same static feeling to them, just lesser. You hadn’t ever really considered what they were but you’re wondering now.

“The bind… is very inconvenient to you,” you’re simply making an observation, if he’s been telling the truth – which you’re still not sure on – this situation is incredibly beneficial for whoever binds him and incredibly annoying to him.

“It wasn’t made to be convenient for me, it was made for the express purpose of aiding the person who binds me.”

“…Right…” tilting your head, you look him over a bit more carefully, “…Is that why it’s so extensive?”

Either he wasn’t listening or he’s confused on why you pointed it out, “What?”

“Well, I’ve just noticed there are a lot of rules that make it harder for you to have your freedom after the summoning… so either you’re lying to lure me into a false sense of security or whoever made the rules really didn’t want you to have an easy way out,” you’re getting tired of standing here like this.

He notes, “You really don’t trust me.”

It feels a little silly for him to point that out when he’s a complete stranger and also a demon, so yeah, excuse you for being a little sceptical on whether he’s trustworthy or not.

Instead of being rude, you ask, “Do you trust me?”

He eyes you over, like he’s sizing you up, “Humans are supposed to be incredibly stupid.”

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly, “Ah, we are.”

He makes a sound like he was about to laugh before coughing to cover it, “You’re perceptive, is what I was trying to say.”

“I suppose I have more reason than most to be cautious but I’m no smarter than the average person,” you shrug.

Clicking his tongue, he changes the topic, “Since you’re coming to understand, ask your favour, I’d like to leave.”

“I told you I don’t want one,” you don’t mean to be rude but it sounds a little harsh when you repeat your earlier sentiments.

He scowls slightly, “I can’t leave if you don’t ask one.”

You counter him, “I don’t even know what I would ask for.”

“Then ask for something mundane,” he’s getting impatient now, tone curt.

“I’m really sorry, demon man, but I still don’t trust you and I’m not even sure there won’t be any pitfalls to asking you for a favour.” There is always a catch.

His scowl deepens at how you refer to him, apparently not liking it, “Usually you would be right but these are different circumstances.”

The lights finally flicker back on and you squint against the sudden change, it wasn’t even all that light in your apartment in the first place but after sitting in the dark for so long, your few lamps feel like you’ve been flash banged.

Huffing, you turn and walk towards your kitchen, turning your back on him might be dumb but it’s also a way to test his word. If he tries anything, then at the very least, you can die knowing you were right.

His steps trail behind you, ignoring him, you continue your walk to the kitchen. Passing your breakfast bar, there is a little creature sitting on top of it and you falter almost imperceptibly. Recovering, you do as you always do and pretend you don’t notice it. They don’t frequently enter your apartment; you’ve never really been sure on why but it’s presence inside took you off guard because of it.

It's mostly shapeless, dark shadows, sometimes they’re rounder, thinner, spikier, they come in all shapes and sizes and sometimes they’re almost cute but they’re a nuisance. When you acknowledge them, they attach to you and cause trouble. Hence, your avoidance of them, it’s almost like acknowledging them gives them power. A fact you learnt the hard way.

Behind you, the demon make a noise of interest, one that irks you, “What?” You question.

“You saw it,” he states.

Turning, you face him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He only raises a brow at you.

The creatures shape is twitching, reacting to the demon in front of it, not seeming all that fond of him. He reaches his hand out and flicks at it, the shape disintegrating, gone after he’d put his hand through it.

After touching it, he shakes his hand slightly before tucking his arms crossed over his chest, “Why lie?”

Your brows pinch together, he’s caught you in your lie and you’re wondering if it really will do any good in continuing with it. For the first time in your life, you admit to being able to see them, “It’s easier to pretend I can’t see them…”

He sighs, exasperated, like his situation has somehow gotten so much more annoying, “Ignoring them won’t work forever.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” you’ve been fine this long.

Moving to the sink, you wash your hands, wanting to clean the blood off your pricked finger. While wiping your hands dry, you jump when turning and seeing him right in front of you, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, geez,” your heart is hammering in your chest, he’s really quiet.

Ignoring you, he says, “Being bound to you just became even more bothersome so I’m going to tell you some things I left out.”

“I still don’t trust you.” Again, literal demon in front of you.

His face is incredibly serious, tone grim, “You don’t have much of a choice.”

For the first time tonight, you feel more inclined to listen to and believe what he’s saying. It’s not like he’s been light-hearted all night but he’s not been nearly as stern as he was just now. So, you nod at him, asking him wordlessly to continue.

“I can’t lie to you when asked a direct question, I wasn’t going to tell you because it benefit me more if you didn’t know but continuing without your trust is going to be annoying. I don’t need you thinking in the back of your mind that I’m going to kill you.”

He’s standing a little too close to you now, it’s setting you on edge, “Why do you need my trust?”

“You, are a target, those things follow you because of your energy. In short, you have a lot of it and they want it.” He squints at you accusatorily, like it’s your fault or something.

Taking a step back, you lean against the kitchen counter, giving yourself a bit of space from him, “They’re mostly harmless though, if I ignore them.”

“There are scarier things out there than them,” he alone is proof of that.

You’re trying to remain calm and collected, “That’s...”

“Remember, if you die, I die,” it’s almost like he’s trying to keep you calm, keep you on track.

You need to test if you can trust his words, “I’m really sorry,” he looks confused by your sudden apology, “But if you can’t lie to me… then what is your name?”

Oh, he didn’t like that at all, his face contorting in anger, “Choso.”

There’s a slim chance that he’s still lying to you, to get you to trust him but the utterly frustrated expression he’s wearing tells you otherwise.

He’s stepping close to you again, arms either side your form, hands resting on the countertop, keeping you trapped between him and the bench, “If you still don’t trust me after that, this is going to become incredibly difficult for the both of us.”

“I trust you…” As much as you can anyway.

“Had to get bound to someone like you,” he mutters angrily.

You’re a little offended, “Hey, I didn’t exactly want to get stuck with you either.”

Grunting, he pulls back, not paying your words any mind, “You need to be more careful from here on out.”

“I’m always careful,” does he not realise you’ve lived for this long, you’re careful.

He corrects, “More careful.”

“What else could I possibly do to be more careful,” ignoring them is all you really can do, it’s not like flicking them away would work for you.

“For one, stop attempting to summon demons,” his tone makes it feel like you’re being scolded… because you are.

Feeling the need to defend yourself, you murmur, “It was my friends idea…”

With no hesitation, he returns, “Your friend is an idiot.”

“Hey–”

“–And so are you, for also doing it.”

You don’t like that he has a point, it’s worse that you did it actually, since you know these things are real.

His question feels like it comes out of nowhere, “What else does your friend like doing?”

You doubt he’s suddenly grown an interest in her as a person, “Why?”

Your eyes track him as he moves to the other side of the kitchen and leans again the countertop opposite you, “Because if they’re the kind of idiot to summon demons, they’re probably also doing other stupid things.”

Pursing your lips, you look away from him because he hit the nail on the head, “She likes to go to abandoned buildings, cemeteries… she likes all things… uhm, scary? I guess.”

Tilting his head, he looks you over again, he seems to do that a lot, “Does she not know about you?”

Covering yourself with your arms, you answer, “Easier not to tell her.”

“Idiot.”

“Okay! stop calling me an idiot now, please,” You get it, you’re an idiot, you don’t need this demon telling you that repeatedly.

“Stop going to risky places with her,” he doesn’t apologise, “Puts you at risk.”

“Okay,” it’s easier to just agree, you’re getting tired, it was already late when your friend left.

Abruptly, he announces, “Don’t bother asking a favour, I won’t be leaving for a bit.”

You almost sputter, “What?” You had just about resigned yourself to asking for one so he would leave and you could sleep in peace.

Rephrasing, he says, “There are some things I want to see, so I will be staying for a bit.”

“How am I meant to sleep in my apartment when there is also a demon in it?” You’re so, so tired, why is he so weird. Are all the demons this weird? Or is it just this one?

He is completely unsympathetic to your plight, “Not my problem.”

“You’re not very nice,” you’re not even really sure why you say it, like it would mean anything to him.

He doesn’t even dignify it with a response, just looking at you with an expression that looks almost as tired as you feel.

“Listen, demon man–”

“–You know my name now, use it.”

That catches you off guard, you hadn’t used it in fear of offending him but it seems like you managed to do that anyhow, “Choso…” using his name feels weirdly intimate, “I need to sleep, so you have to go away.”

Gaze even, he says it how he sees it, “I can’t and like I said, I’m not going to. There are some things I’d like to see.”

The most annoying part of what he’s just said is surprisingly the first bit, “What do you mean can’t?”

“I have to be within the general vicinity of where I was summoned or near the person I’m bound to,” he answers cooly, like that isn’t the most inconvenient thing you’ve heard all night.

“What? How am I meant to sleep peacefully? Have people over?” You have a date coming up, what if you wanted to bring them back here?

He repeats an earlier statement, “Not. My. Problem.” No sympathy from him.

You raise your hands in exasperation, clenching into fists by your head before dropping them and letting the tension go. Trying to calm yourself, “I need to sleep, I’m going to sleep and hope this is some weirdly vivid dream.”

He goes to open his mouth to speak but you cut him off with a single hand raising, “No. We can talk more at an appropriate time, if you’re still here.” You inhale and exhale a deep breath, “Do not come into my room. Stay out here.”

Rolling his eyes at you, he dismisses, “Go to bed.”

Keeping your eyes on him, you squint, sceptical of him as you wander out the kitchen and towards your bedroom. He doesn’t watch you but you know he can tell you’re watching him. When your back hits your bedroom door, you slip inside and shut the door.

How are you meant to get even a little bit of sleep with him out there?

⟢

It’s dark in your room when you open your eyes, only a small amount of light creeping in from behind your closed blinds. You guess you somehow managed to fall asleep, it’s still early in the morning though, so you probably only got a few hours. You have never been more thankful for the weekend than you are right now.

Rolling over, you look at your bedroom door, wondering if that all really happened last night or if you’ve just woken up from a really weird and detailed dream. Flopping onto your back, you stare at the ceiling instead, not sure if you’re ready to face if it was real. You’d stay like this all day but footsteps from outside your room prompt you to get up.

Tentatively, you poke your head out your door, eyeing your living area carefully. A figure is sat on your couch, reading one of your books. It’s Choso, you sigh with the realisation that it was all real, feeling like you’re apart of some sick cosmic joke right about now.

He speaks without looking to you, knowing you’re there, “You read a lot of poorly written books…”

“Excuse me?” How does he manage to insult you in ways you weren’t expecting.

He glances at you quickly before looking back at the book, “I’ve been reading some of your books but your selection is disappointing.”

Your eyes shift over to your bookcase next to your television to see a pile of books sitting in front of it, like he can’t be bothered putting them back properly after he’s deemed them unworthy.

“You’ve made a mess,” your tone weak, exhausted.

His attention is finally off the book as he shifts to face you, arm resting on the back of the couch, “Those ones aren’t worth keeping.”

“I liked them…” Sure, they weren’t all works of art but some of them were cute fantasies filled with action and adventure and romance and… You feel like you might spontaneously combust out of embarrassment because… did this demon read the books containing porn?What a horrific albeit amusing thought.

He raises a brow at you, confused by your sudden change in behaviour. He ignores it though, not really one to care about your comfortability, “Are you ready to talk again?”

“I don’t think anyone would ever be ready for the kind of talk you wish to have,” you’re staring blankly into the distance. There are literally a billion different things on your mind right now and nearly all of them have to do with him.

His eyes track you as you wander over to the book pile he’d made. Crouching down, you begin putting them back into their spots on the shelf.

He hums from behind you, “It’s simple, I need to determine some things about your situation and until I’m satisfied I won’t be going anywhere.”

Groaning, you continue cleaning the books, “You understand how inconvenient that is to me, right?”

“You understand how inconvenient it is to me that my immortal life is tied to a pitiful human, right?” Before you can protest or really add anything to the conversation, he continues, “One, at that, who enjoys meddling with things that wish her harm?”

Ignoring basically all of what he’s just said, you glare at him, “If you’re so intent on staying here then the least you could do is be considerate and leave things as you find them.” Getting up, you approach him and pluck the book from his hands, “Or better yet, not snoop around in things that do not belong to you.”

He waves you off, “Things would go smoother if you would just cooperate.”

You don’t really have a reply so you don’t give him one, choosing instead to walk back to the bookshelf and place the book you took from him on it. This being your reality hasn’t really set in yet, how are you meant to live like this? Glancing back at the demon lounging on your couch, he stares back at you, apparently having been watching you the whole time.

“Ignoring me won’t make me go away,” he says it so matter-of-factly that it pisses you off.

Turning away again, you ignore him… like he’s wrong and it’ll start working. It’s not going to, you know that. It’s been made clear he’s not leaving but you keep hoping he will. Maybe you could blame this all on your lack of sleep. You’re so tired, the rest you got definitely not enough, though you don’t think even a perfect rest would be enough to deal with all this.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, “You said we could talk more at an appropriate hour.”

You groan at him, “You’re a demon, there’s a blood pact, you technically can leave but are now choosing not to and apparently plan on making it damn near impossible for me to live a normal life.”

“I’m not the one who decided it would be a fun evening activity to summon a demon.”

Oh, he’s struck a nerve, “Well it wasn’t mine either!”

“Speaking of, get that book off your friend,” he stretches his limbs, “I don’t know what’ll happen if that binding spell is used again while I’m already stuck to you.”

You snark back at him, “Maybe you’ll go bother them instead.”

Paying no mind to your tone, he answers, “That would be the best-case scenario.”

With the books all back on the shelf, you sigh, “It’s too early for this.”

Disregarding your bad mood, he changes the topic again, “When you go out, keep a mental note of the things you see.”

“That’s so much work,” you’ve put so much time into training your brain to ignore them, doing the opposite would be effort you don’t know if you can be bothered to exert.

It’s his turn to be in a bad mood now, “I don’t care, do it.”

“So bossy…” You mutter under your breath.

“Just do what I ask, you’re being so resistant when this is for your safety,” he’s growing weary of your attitude.

“Yeah but like… I’d probably be fine; I have been for this long.” You shrug at him, “This is about you being worried about dying but you will be fine because I am always fine.”

He stares back at you, apparently lost for words but the look in his eyes says enough. He hates this situation and he hates how blasé you’re being about it.

⟢

It’s been about a month since he first showed up and he still won’t leave even though you gave up and started doing what he asked. Paying attention to the little creatures while also not looking like you’re paying attention to them is difficult and tedious but you’ve done it. Somehow, there seems to be less of them ever since Choso, you don’t know if correlation is equal to causation in this situation but it has to be more than a coincidence.

When you had told Choso about this connection you made he only hummed at you in thought and then walked away to the spare room you graciously allowed him to stay in. He’s so dismissive of you but getting time to yourself without his overwhelming presence is a small relief you allow yourself to feel.

Having him in your home is weird to say the least, he’s not as annoying as a house guest as you initially thought he would be but it’s also strange that he’s just… always here. If he sleeps you’re never around to witness it and he still goes through all your things even though you protest every time you find him doing so. To his credit, you imagine he is incredibly bored so you’re not as mean as you could be.

Tonight is the date you were meant to go on a while ago, you kept postponing it. There’s been too much on your mind to think about dating, even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to bring him back to your apartment, not with the demon residing in your guest room.

It’s too late to back out though and you’ve cancelled so many times now, you’d feel bad if you did it again. So, you get ready even though you’re not as excited as you would’ve been a month ago. It really is a shame; he’s a nice person and you feel awful for rescheduling on him so much.

While looking in the mirror by your front door, Choso shows up behind you, watching you fuss over your appearance. His brows pinch at you in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready,” you glance at him through the mirror.

He waits a moment like he’s expecting you to say more, “…For?”

Your brow raises at him, “I feel like I’ve told you already.”

Still, you didn’t answer his question. Something that has been growing to annoy him. He sighs at you, “Then remind me.”

Spinning to face him before answering, “I have a date tonight.”

“Hmm… and you’ll be going out… all night?”

The way he phrased it is bizarre to you, cocking your head as you ask, “Is that a problem?”

“It should be fine,” he looks to be in thought, an expression you’re getting used to seeing.

“Is there something you want or can I go now,” you meant it as more of a rhetorical question but he doesn’t seem to take it as one.

“I want to test something before you leave,” he steps closer to you.

You’d take a step back but the wall is right behind you, “And what do you want to test?”

He ignores your question, much to your dismay. He’s stepping closer to you and you feel worried at what he’s about to do, not able to do anything but stand here. As he wraps his arms around you, you brace yourself for something more to happen but nothing does. His hands pull you closer to him, your body flush to his. When you realise he’s not going to do anything to you, you wiggle in his hold.

He leans down to speak into your ear, “Don’t move.”

The words breathed against your skin send a shiver down your spine. “Were you just… in the mood for a cuddle or is there a grand reason behind this?” You’re hoping to offer levity, feeling uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s warm, he’s warm and sturdy, his breath hot against you. Your body temperature is rapidly spiking, your thoughts getting fuzzy the longer he holds you against him.

He pulls back from you, as stoic as ever, “Pay attention to your surroundings tonight.”

It’s not until later into that evening that you realise what he may have done by holding you like that, the shadows that you so often see nowhere near you. His little test lingering in your head the whole time you’re trying to have a nice date, not able to focus on the person in front of you.

Instead, your brain is caught on how it felt when a particular demon held you close and how his breath against your skin made your head spin. This whole ordeal is only going to become more taxing on you, you just know it.

⟢

Days have passed and your mind is still stuck on how Choso had held you, brow twitching every time you find yourself daydreaming about him. He’s the demon in your guest room, not some cute guy at work, you need to get a hold of yourself. You can’t be thinking about him like that… maybe you should just ask for a favour so that he leaves for a bit. That way you’d at least get some space from him, he’s always here and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore how attractive he is.

The sound of your mindless chopping fills your ears, trying to prepare dinner for this evening and getting woefully distracted. A slip of the knife and a pain in your finger reminds you just how distracted you seem to have gotten. Intaking a sharp breath at the cut you’re about to move for the sink only for Choso to be behind you, his unexpected presence startling you.

“How many times have I asked you to not do that,” you scold him, he’s scared you like this too many times to count.

He disregards your admonishment, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m aware,” you blink at him, “I was going to–”

The words you were about to speak dying in your throat when he grabs your hand, his tongue licking up the trail of blood before lathing over your cut. Careful to watch what he’s doing the whole time, not wanting to hurt you further as he licks up the mess. You can only look back at him dazed, brain feeling like it’s short circuiting. He’s flustered you and you have no idea how to respond to such an action.

“W–why did you do that?”

His gaze flicks to you, mouth pulling back, “To help.”

Before you slap him silly you look at your small wound and see it’s been completely healed. Apparently his tongue possesses some healing properties, and you’d find that really interesting if you weren’t trying really hard to not think about how he looked while licking you.

“You taste good,” he says it easily, like it doesn’t have you melting into a puddle on the floor.

Your mouth gapes at him, lost for words before settling on, “You can’t just go around licking people, Choso.”

“I don’t,” his expression incredulous, finding your accusation baseless despite his actions just now.

Not knowing what else to say, you stand there looking back at him stupidly. The expression he’s making unreadable, clearly nowhere near as affected by his actions as you are. His hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head back to look at you, eyes examining you closely.

“What’s wrong with you,” he asks suddenly.

You don’t understand what he means by that, “What? Nothing?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted lately, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

It’d be easy to mistake his questions for concern if you didn’t know any better, but you do, he’s a demon. Something you find yourself having to remember often, he doesn’t care for you, not in a matter that you’d want to be cared for. You don’t even know if he’s capable of it. It feels cruel to be asked questions and given reminders to look out for yourself when the person giving them doesn’t actually care about you but rather himself.

“Choso, please hand me that tea towel,” you pause and his head tilts at you in confusion. Clarifying, you add, “You have to, this is the favour I am asking of you.”

The only tell that you’ve asked properly being his grim expression, wholly unimpressed by this situation. His jaw clenches as his body turns stiffly to grab what you’ve asked for, as if he were trying to hold off on completing the request.

“Why now?” He hisses lowly.

There’s a tug in your heart, already regretting your actions but he can’t stay here with you. Letting your feelings for him grow would be stupid and despite what they say, absence does not make the heart grow fonder. This is logical, this is the smart choice, this is what’s best… so why is it hurting you so much.

Eyes intense and annoyance palpable, a singular request uttered, “Call me back.”

You shake your head at him, having him return so soon would defeat the purpose of what you’re attempting to do.

“You are the most frustrating human by far,” he begrudgingly hands you the tea towel, scowling as he disappears from your apartment.

The breath you let out is large, body folding with it, stuck between feeling relief and regret. Everything is still and your apartment feels emptier than ever. Blankly, you stare at the tea towel in your hand. Its bright and happy pattern feels mocking. This is fine.

Looking back at your bench, the half-chopped vegetables sit on your cutting board. This is fine. This feeling will pass. In a week, or two, this will feel like nothing more than a long and vivid dream. This. Is. Fine.

⟢

It’s beginning to feel like… the damage had already been done. The days go by but you still remember how he looked when you’d come home. His brow relaxing when you’d step through the door, like he was worried about you while you were gone. His patience while he listened to you complain about things he wasn’t even a little bit concerned with. It’s been lonely at home.

Your coworker calling your name reminds you that you’re at work. Shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the memories before turning to them properly, “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Wasn’t that guy in here during your last shift?” Their voice filled with concern.

Glancing over in the direction they’re looking; you see your date from a while back. “Ignore him, he’ll get bored eventually.”

“Okay…” They squint at you, “But actually I think you should tell management about him, just so they know.”

You wave them off, not really concerned. It is a little troubling though, the guy had taken it so well when you initially told him you weren’t interested. Only to do what seems like a complete one-eighty and blow up your phone with messages. Obviously you blocked him and now he’s lightly stalking you. Maybe you’d care more if he ever approached you or if you weren’t busy thinking about Choso but alas he is low on your list of concerns.

At your coworkers intense eye contact you concede, “Fine, I’ll tell them but I doubt they’ll care.”

They put their hand on your shoulder, offering support, “If he tries to come over, tell me and I’ll deal with it instead.”

Placing your hand over theirs, you look deep into their eyes, “I love you.”

Their face twists in disgust as they push you away, “Go do your job.”

You laugh as you shuffle away, despite your joking you’re appreciative of their support.

⟢

Those little creatures hang around you again, ever since you sent Choso away they’ve been lingering more. It’s somewhat of a bother but you did fine before he showed up and you’re doing fine now. You go through the motions, ignoring them, working, going back to your empty apartment. Your date that you can’t remember the name of keeps hanging out at your job but he gets ignored like the shadowy critters.

Not that you’ve been keeping track but it’s been a little over a month since you last saw Choso. The last thing you remember seeing was his angry face, still, you want to see him again and maybe if you didn’t feel so guilty you’d have called him back by now. Too many times you’ve almost called his name aloud but your feelings haven’t faded and calling him now seems pointless.

Plus, you’re a little concerned about how mad at you he might be. The way you asked your favour was cheap and unexpected so you’re sure he’d have some choice words and a stern look to give you. Though, there is the chance he’d be mad at you for calling him back after all this time, he might be comfortable wherever he is and you calling him might only serve to feed his anger.

Ultimately you’re indecisive on the matter, you could call him back for just a little bit, if he’s angry you’ll send him away again and it’ll all be okay… probably. Mind moving a million miles a minute as you slump back into the couch, you called out of work today, feeling stressed after not sleeping well.

You’re not quite sure what exactly has you feeling this way but you’ve been feeling a lot of unease lately. It’s more than likely everything combined but you’re not ruling out something more sinister. Choso’s words about scarier things being out there nags at you whenever you get a quiet moment to acknowledge his warning.

Your arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes. Inner turmoil getting to you as you grumble, “Stupid demon and his stupid warning, can’t even sleep properly anymore.”

A knock on your door startles you, body shooting straight up. You’re not expecting anyone, all your friends are either at work or would tell you before dropping by. Cautiously, you approach the door, choosing to look into the peephole before even thinking of opening it.

An unpleasant shiver rocks through your body, blood running cold as you see that your unwanted guest is your date from all those weeks ago. You knew he was stalking you but he only ever appeared at work, you’ve never even seen him in your neighbourhood. The fact he shouldn’t know your address meaning he’s followed you home without your knowledge making you feel sick.

Taking a step back, you consider your options. Opening the door is out of the question, pretending to not be home and waiting him out seems to be a good idea but if he’s already been to your job and seen you’re not there then he might not be as willing to believe that. You’re nervous, there’s no way to know how much he knows about you or how long he’s been watching you for. If he’s been waiting for you to leave for work then he’d know you’re still in here.

In your anxiety you bite at your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth when more patient knocks sound at your door. You didn’t really want to have to turn to him but he’s probably the only person that would get to you quickly and put you more at ease.

Fleeing to your bedroom, you keep your hurried footsteps light, not wanting to draw his attention to the sound. You cringe internally at the small squeak your door lets out as you close it as slowly as possible. Giving yourself a moment, you take a deep breath and brace yourself for the probably very angry demon you’re about to summon right to you.

Just as you’re about to say his name, you falter, wondering if there’s more to it or if it really is as simple as just saying his name. “…Choso.”

You’re on edge immediately, it’s familiar though, distinctively Choso in how your blood warms and your hairs stand on end. It really was as simple as saying his name.

He stands in front of you, frown deeper than you’ve ever seen it, his arms folded over his chest, “You took your sweet time.”

Instantly he has you on the defensive, “I had my reasons.”

His tongue clicks at you, wholly unimpressed, “Care to enlighten me on what they may be?”

Remembering your reason for sending him away, you awkwardly reply, “Not really.”

He sighs at you, clearly annoyed by your answer, “I assume you’ve reconciled with yourself then, since you’ve summoned me back.”

“Well… no–”

There’s a thudding on your door again, more aggressive than the first few times he’d knocked. Clearly growing impatient and probably able to hear your voices. You flinch at the sound, almost forgetting that there was a reason for you calling Choso back.

Choso catches onto your unease quickly, “Who is that?”

“Ah, well… you remember that date I went on? He’s sort of been… lightly stalking me.” You clear your throat, “I felt a little… scared… so I summoned you back.”

“How long has he been stalking you for?”

“Lightly, stalking…” You overcorrect to a decidedly very unamused Choso. “…I noticed not long after you left.” You can’t say you’re really appreciating the ‘told you so’ look he’s got plastered across his features right now. “Him stalking me has nothing to do with you so stop looking at me like that.”

“For a smart girl you’re awfully clueless sometimes,” his hand reaches past you for the door handle, “After I deal with this, you’re telling me why you made me leave.”

A conversation you’d really rather not have, it’s embarrassing to think about admitting to liking the demon you accidentally forced into a blood bind. Even more embarrassing that you had to force him to leave your house because he was driving you insane.

You avoid eye contact with him as he passes by, opting to stay put while he handles the unwanted guest. Having him back brings a kind of security you weren’t even fully aware of having lost, the fact you trust this literal demon with your wellbeing should be more concerning but it only adds to your feelings for him.

While waiting you can hear their muffled voices followed by nothing, an off-putting silence filling the apartment before the door is slammed closed. Cautiously, you stick your head out of your room, looking over to where Choso is standing. His broad back facing you, when he turns to meet your eyes you can’t help but feel guilty.

You leave your room properly and walk over to him, checking over his appearance to make sure he’s fine.

His next words are simple and chilling, “He was possessed.”

You feel faint, “What?”

“Not in any real sense, those things that follow you simply latched onto him, influencing his behaviour.” There’s a distaste in his tone when referring to the shadows before he continues, “Probably hoping to use his proximity to you to their advantage, though they’re not all that intelligent which calls into question how they managed it.” He’s looking down at you, expression grim, “Did you forget my warnings? Why did it take you so long to call me back?”

“Well, I obviously couldn’t tell he was being possessed,” you’re feeling an awful lot like he’s victim blaming you right now and you’re not in love with that, “Sometimes men are just scary like that.”

“So, you’d rather be lightly stalked than call me?” He mocks you from earlier.

“Did I say that?” You sigh, tired, “Is he going to be okay?” You’re feeling a sense of responsibility for him, it’s your fault he got possessed and if you had noticed sooner he’d have been normal long before he followed you home.

“He’ll be fine, though he probably won’t remember much of his last month.” His brow raises at you, clearly waiting for some kind of real explanation for the mess you’ve caused.

“Don’t be so crabby,” you walk away from him and flop onto the couch, head resting on the back of it, “It all turned out fine in the end.” Not acknowledging how guilty you feel is far easier than being vulnerable with him right now.

He follows you to the couch, standing resolutely in front of you, “I know you don’t have this much of a disregard for your wellbeing–”

Smirking at him, you try to play everything off, “You’re starting to sound like you were worried about me.”

“Of course I was worried about you,” his words and the ease at which he speaks them catches you off guard, “You’re being inexplicably stupid and your faux ignorance at the gravity of your situation is becoming annoying.”

Okay… ouch. Any warm fuzzy feelings you had are kind of dampened by the harsh slap of reality he just gave you.

“I know things felt a little off but I had no way of knowing if I was just imagining it or not, don’t blame me for acting human.”

“Whether you like it or not, you are not the same as every other human, act like it. Those instincts are there for a reason.” He can see the way you’re getting antsy, uncomfortable with the way he’s scolding you. “Tell me why you had me leave.”

You scrabble at that, “Is that necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Is this really his priority right now?

“Because I don’t want to be caught off guard like that again and I’d rather fix what’s bothering you now.” He watches you closely, not missing how you only seem to grow more restless.

Turning your head to the side you offer, “If I promise not to do it again, will you let this go?”

“No.”

You stand up at that, trying to make the conversation feel more even, “And why not?”

He speaks very calmly, “I had to wait until you were ready to call on me, wondering the whole time if you were safe and only knowing you hadn’t met an untimely end because I was still alive.” He leans down into your space, brows furrowing at how you turn away from him. His hand grabs your chin and pulls your gaze back to his, “Don’t do that to me again.”

It’s hard to keep eye contact with him, his emotions raging behind his stoic demeanour. Your answer to his question is ambiguous, “I couldn’t have you here.”

He, of course, pushes back on that ambiguity, “Why?”

He’s infuriating you; his insistent pestering is annoying. Fine. If he wants to know so badly, you’ll tell him.

“I couldn’t think clearly with you here…” you’re confessing but it comes across as challenging, a result of your foul mood, “Because I like you and I didn’t want to let myself feel it.” As if he’d be put off by your admission, you cement, “That’s why I couldn’t have you here.”

The only response you get from him is an unreadable grin. An annoying and stupid smile as he continues to hold you still so you can’t even turn away from the maddening expression. It’s almost torture, it feels like some kind of sick and twisted form of punishment. Being in the palm of his hand, emotionally and literally.

“Human emotions aren’t all that complex but all the different reactions and rationales behind them are,” he hums at you, finding this humorous somehow.

“I’m glad you’re thoroughly entertained by my inner turmoil, now either let me make you leave or stop being unnecessarily cruel.”

He lets go of you finally, a small mercy, “I thought you liked me; you’re not really acting like it.”

Thankfully you have the chance to look away from him now, “Don’t push it, Choso. Did you think I’d fall into a puddle because you touched me?”

“No but eye contact seems to embarrass you, maybe if you gazed into my eyes long enough you might.” Pleased grin still settled on his features, it’s the most you’ve seen him emote aside from annoyance.

Your response is to glare at him, directly into his eyes. If looks could kill he’d be dead and buried six feet under. “Make a choice.”

His smile falters, “What?”

“Either stay here or leave.” Those are his only options, having him here will feel unfair to you but it might be more inconvenient to him, you want to at least offer him an out.

He’s genuinely confused, he just got back to you, “Why would I leave?”

You don’t really understand the confusion but spell it out all the same, “…I don’t imagine you love the idea of a human falling for you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Falling for me?” Oh great, he’s amused again.

You can feel a headache coming on, fingers rubbing at your temples, “Don’t change the topic.”

He shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

You stop, “What?”

He repeats, “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?” Your hands drop to your sides.

His arms fold over his chest, “Your feelings for me.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t have much to do with me.”

His logic is flawed and he’s pissing you off, he always pisses you off, his feigned indifference is stupid. You keep glaring at him, eyes glinting dangerously. You step closer to him and he doesn’t move away, as sturdy as ever. Leaning up, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself to him.

You’re hugging him, he wavers for a moment before he’s hesitantly moving his hands to loop around you, hugging you back. Otherwise, he’s completely still, clearly taken off-guard by your sudden affections. You’re careful to make sure your lips just barely graze against his ear, softly admitting to him, “I missed you.”

His fingers dig into your shirt at your voice, you’re getting to him more than you expected to. Pulling back, you’re surprised by the look in his eyes. A lidded and endearing expression that almost has you forgetting the aim of your actions. Resolve weak because you’d really like to kiss him and with how he glances at your lips quickly you think he might let you but he’s a bastard and you’ve not forgotten that.

Patting his chest with your hands you smile, “Welcome home, Choso.”

Removing yourself from his hold you’re met with some resistance but ultimately you’re walking away from him and back into your room. Shutting your door, you’re leaving him alone in your living room. His head fuzzy and thoughts confused on what exactly just happened.

⟢

Having Choso back has been comforting, you’re living a lot more peacefully. Both your stalker and the shadows have left you alone. Going to work hasn’t been as nerve-wracking lately and in that sense it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. But while it’s been calm outside your apartment, inside it is a different story.

Ever since Choso’s return he’s been watching you a lot more closely than before, spending more time around you when you’re home compared to when he was first here. There’s even been a few times you’ve had to stop him from following you to work. More recently he’s taken to staring at you, your peripherals picking up on his unwavering gaze. Sometimes when you realise, it devolves into an argument.

He continues to be steadfast that he’s not staring, nothing’s wrong, and he’s the same as always but his behaviour is clearly stating otherwise. You’re the one who likes him, shouldn’t you be the one acting strangely around him? Overall, it’s not a huge deal it’s just annoying to feel so observed in your own home. If you were meaner, you’d ask him in a way so he’d have to answer honestly but it feels oddly invasive to have someone be honest with you against their will.

You’re just trying to enjoy your evening, watching T.V. and lazing but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s making it hard to get comfortable,so without looking at him you simply say, “Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he sounds sure, like he’s certain he’s not doing anything to warrant your words.

“Choso…” you pause and turn to look at him, getting a little distracted by how he looks with his hair down. “I can’t get comfortable when you keep staring at me, just watch the show.”

His head drops forward to look at the T.V., clearly unimpressed, “This is boring.”

Ignoring the urge to argue in favour of your favourite show, you retort, “Because staring at me is so interesting.”

Silence. He has nothing to reply with.

Groaning at him, “You’ve been staring at me so much lately, it’s becoming frustrating.”

Reply quick and wrong, “I’m not staring.”

You squint at him accusatorily, “You are a liar.” Growing exasperated, you grumble, “If you have something to ask just ask it.”

“Can I touch you?” He’d almost seem sheepish when asking if he wasn’t so blunt.

There’s an upsetting kind of excitement settling in you when he asks, mostly you’re taken aback though, “What? Why?”

“Because–” He begins to explain but you’re cutting him off before he can.

“–Choso, you understand that I like you right? I like the idea of–” you stop, the sudden quiet awkward before you start again. “The point is – I like you and it’s unfair of you to ask me things like that.”

“Is that a no?”

Thinking on it for a moment, you decide, “It’s not…”

His hand moves for you slowly, as if he’s cautious of the fact you might change your mind. Hand on your cheek gentle, a kind of softness you didn’t think him explicitly capable of. It lingers for a moment, thumb brushing high on your cheek before he drops his hand. Moving lower instead, wrapping around your torso. You’re not completely sure on what you were expecting when he asked if he could touch you but as he pulls you to him and embraces you, you’re certain you weren’t expecting this.

The angle is a little awkward, you’re trying to hug him back as best as you can but it’s uncomfortable and it seems to bother him because he’s quickly tugging you onto his lap. Arms big and firm around you, holding you close. This is a kind of intimacy you’ve not experienced before; it’s making you nervous, you still don’t know what he wants from you, and this did nothing to make it any clearer.

“Calm down,” his words vibrate through his chest.

“I am calm.”

He knows better, “You’re not, I can tell.”

“Ignore it,” you’re embarrassed.

He huffs at you, partway amused, “Fine.”

Then he’s pulling you in closer, his face burying into you, nosing at your neck. The way he inhales your scent has goosebumps breaking out across your skin, almost shameless in his actions. It feels like he’s trying to make you even more nervous, taking your words to ignore you at face value. There’s a sick kind of joy he has to be getting from this, from how your heartbeat speeds up and how your breaths come faster. You almost feel like you’re shaking with nervous energy.

Voice trembling when you ask, “What are you doing?”

His response is to state the obvious, “Embracing you.”

You murmur back at him, “Are you done yet?”

“No.”

How annoying, at least he’s consistent in how easily he frustrates you. His few simple words always managing to get under your skin, its effect on you running deeper than you feel comfortable with.

Instead of trying to understand his motivations any further, you choose to relax into him, allowing yourself to be held. You have a feeling that he’s not sure enough of his own actions to explain them to you, so you’ll settle for being confused but held.

His breath tickles your ear, “You missed me?”

“Hmm?” You take a second to process, “Yeah…”

“Say it.”

His request takes you off guard, you’re pulling back slightly to make eye contact with him. He wants to hear you say it, his eyes imploring yours.

Your hand cradles his face, giving him what he wants, “I missed you.”

“I think…” his gaze flits between your eyes and your lips, “I missed you too.”

A small smile breaks out across your face, “Be careful, you might damage your demon rep if anyone hears you.”

He leans up to you, his lips just shy of yours, almost brushing them when he speaks, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You’re about to say something that would no doubt embarrass you when he’s taking the chance to connect your lips. Heart leaping in your chest at how fully he kisses you, insistent in how he leans up to you more, arms around you and tugging you down into him. There’s a neediness in his movements you didn’t expect him to have for you.

It’s making you dizzy, his kiss, his hands on your back, the desperation from him you weren’t ready for. Like he’s been pent up and the flood gates have opened, barely willing to part for a second to breathe.

It’s a lot, you’ve never been kissed like this, so completely, so desired. It’s hard to think, all thoughts you have muddling together. You need to breathe but every time you try to open your mouth to speak he’s planting another full kiss to your lips.

With your fingers in his hair, you tug on him, he groans as he’s pulled back. Finally, you’re able to draw in the air you needed, chest rising and falling quickly with relief. Choso stays looking at you, his eyes lidded as he watches you breathe. It’s hot in your apartment now, or that might just be you, your skin warm, feeling warmer with how he’s looking at you.

There’s nothing coming to mind, it feels like you should say something, but you’re completely lost for words. He’s rendered you speechless, still feeling a little dizzy as your eyes drop to his lips, glossy and slick from your shared kiss. A small smile spreads across his face, and it prompts you to look up, realising you were staring.

You feel fuzzy when you remember how he’d said he missed you, a dopey grin on your face, “You said you missed me.”

He doesn’t deny it, “I did.”

“You meant it?” You’re already asking your question before he’s even really finished giving his reply.

He pretends to think on it, for no other reason than to tease, “Hmm… Yes. I think so.”

You mutter at him, “Cruel…”

His hand cradles the side of your face, so gentle in how his thumb brushes over your cheek, “Did you?”

“Did I what?” A little lost at his question, too busy registering how it feels when he touches you.

“Mean it when you said you missed me,” The hand on your face trails further down, thumb tugging your lower lip.

Your lips quirk up in a smile, tone playful, “I mean everything I say.”

The look he gives you conveys severe doubt, it comes from experience of dealing with you.

His expression earns an eye roll from you, conceding without him even saying anything, “Okay so maybe not everything but I mean it when I say I missed you.”

Hand trailing even further down, now resting against the side of your neck. He’s probably able to feel your thumping pulse under his fingers, “And the other thing?”

If you tried to guess what he was asking you’d probably know but just to be sure, “What other thing?”

“You said something about liking me,” he’s trying to play it off, a nonchalance he usually possesses nowhere to be found in his words despite his efforts.

“I’m starting to think you just like hearing how much I like you,” crossing your arms, you add, “It’d be cute if it didn’t feel mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean.”

“You haven’t even told me how you feel about me.”

Choso’s head quirks slightly, “Was the kiss not enough?”

“I don’t know, maybe you kiss everyone else like that too,” your finger jabs at his chest accusatorily.

“Did you just call me a whore?”

“No.” You look away and pout, “I implied it.”

“I’m not a whore.” He seems distracted when he says it.

You squint at him; some doubt there but not serious. You’re not sure you ever considered him a virgin, but you didn’t really consider the opposite either. His hands are still on you, one slipping under your shirt, warm against your bare skin, the distraction in his words a little clearer now when you notice the way he’s been looking at you.

“Can I kiss you again or are you too busy implying I’m a whore?”

“You can’t kiss me again because you didn’t answer my question.”

His brows pull up, “Funny, I don’t remember it being phrased as one.”

Leaning into him, your lips hover over his, so close you’re almost touching. Just as he’s about to close the gap you pull back, “How do you feel about me?”

He sighs when you move away, “Right now?”

If that’s how he wants to play it, fine. “I’m not gonna sit on just anybody’s lap and make out with them.” You make a move to get off of him, not willing to sit so suggestively in the lap of someone who doesn’t even like you.

He stops you from going anywhere, his large hands firm on your hips. “Am I just anybody? I thought you liked me.”

“Right now?” You quirk a brow at him.

“Don’t be petulant.”

“I’m not being petulant, I’m just not willing to debase myself for a demon who doesn’t even like me.”

“I never said I didn’t like you,” he offers like it’s enough, gaze already set on your lips again.

The very lips that are pouting moodily back at him, not entertained by such a small concession. Instead of dignifying him with a further back and forth, you seriously move to get off him. Hands planted on his chest as you throw a cautious glance back at where you’re stepping. When he realises he’s not satisfied you his hands grapple for you, somewhat frantic that you’re leaving the comfortable place he’d had you sat.

Words rushing from him, almost surprising himself with how needy he sounds, “Don’t– don’t leave–”

“–Why not?” It’s sharp, how you cut him off, quickly growing embarrassed at how forward you’ve been.

“Because I like having you close,” he replies obviously, brows pinching slightly. He takes your pause as opportunity to manoeuvre you back into place, arms around you, holding you tight to his chest.

Soft sigh leaving you, annoyed by how endearing you find him. “Choso…”

“I missed you…” His face has found its way to your neck. Breathing in your scent, shiver running down his spine with it, “…Because I like you.” Almost like he can’t stop himself, he licks at your neck, tasting you. A low sound coming from him, “I like you a lot.”

This took a sudden turn from playful to frustrating to dizzying, the air around you is heavy as he licks and nips at your skin. Pulling shaky breaths in when his hand slides under your shirt again, the feeling of his skin on yours hot.

“I–”

Whatever you were about to say is getting cut off, “–Are you gonna let me kiss you now?” His words are spoken between kisses as he trails his lips up to the side of your face.

Without saying anything, you turn your head slightly to the side. Lips meeting his easily, melding together in a soft kiss. He’s careful this time but no less insistent, quickly growing less restrained. Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers pulling at the material of his shirt.

A small noise leaves you when he’s licking into your mouth, the sound seemingly setting Choso off. One of his hands jumps for your face, the other holding your throat. His kisses growing needy. It’s all you can do to try and keep up with him, his lips fervent and messy.

Your fingers thread through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp and it’s like he melts into you. Soft moan leaving him you weren’t expecting, your chest stuttering as you stifle down the whine bubbling in you. He sounded so pretty when he moaned, you want to hear it again. Repeating the motion, you nip at his lower lip at the same time, trying to coax it out of him.

Unfortunately, he stuffs down the noise the second time, just barely – his body shudders with it. He uses his hand on your throat to hold you in place, his forehead resting on yours. Huffed breaths shared in the space between you, your eyes are unfocused and glassy, his much the same. You’re trying to calm yourself, worked up and very nearly squirming on top of him.

There’s something you should tell him, especially with how heated this exchange is getting but you can’t seem to get your head on straight long enough to voice yourself. Choso seems to be able to tell that you’re struggling though, his expression amused but no less kiss drunk than you.

Showing mercy, he gives you an opening, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” This is embarrassing, “I don’t wanna be presumptuous or anything but you should– uhm… I just think you should know…” your skin feels unbelievably hot right now, feeling flushed as you murmur, “…I’m a virgin.”

He hums at you, completely unsurprised at your confession, “I know.” He ignores your sputtering at his simple statement, nose running along your cheek in a soft show of affection.

“What do you mean–” You fight to hide the shiver running down your spine at his gentle touch.

“–Are you telling me this because you want to have sex?” His words are low against your skin, something about him feeling predatory, “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Choso can’t help but feel greedy, the idea of you letting him – a demon – be your first fills him with a possessiveness he couldn’t explain in a way that wouldn’t have him looking like a huge pervert.

Your voice is shaky as you avoid answering him, “You never answer my questions…”

He huffs a small laugh, having purposefully cut you off so he didn’t have to answer, “Do you really want to know how I know?”

Something about how he looks at you, eyes glinting in the soft light of the room has you questioning if you really want to. “Is the answer going to embarrass me?”

“You?” He makes a soft sound, his thumb smooths over your throat, “Probably, you fluster easily.”

“I don’t fluster easily…” his gaze is setting your skin on fire, “…I just like you is all.”

“So you’ve said,” he mumbles out, leaning in and licking up the length of your throat where his hand just was.

The reaction he gets from you is damn near visceral, a gasp pulling from you at the sudden action. Your brain is rebooting, struggling to form words when he begins nipping at your neck. Anything you were about to say comes in the form of jumbled words and weak moans. A sound he seems to delight in if the curling of his lips against your skin is anything to go by.

“You get distracted easily,” his breath is ticklish against you, “You never answered my question.”

Did he ask a question? You suddenly can’t remember, “What was the question again?”

He laughs at your lapse in memory, “Did you want me to fuck you?”

The choice in phrasing makes you bristle, hating how he’s right that you fluster easily. He’s taking joy in how you pause at his question, obviously having asked so bluntly just to watch you squirm. Choso is patient though, happy to continue leaving marks on your delicate skin while you try to get it together enough to reply. His canines grazing over the patches of skin he’s sucked marks into, the shivers that run through you at it making him smile.

“Y– hah– yeah…” your reply is clumsy and breathy. His lips are off your neck as soon as you answer, his arms hold onto your thighs as he stands. Not expecting to be picked up you let out a refrained squeal and wrap your limbs around him tight. “A warning would’ve been nice,” you chastise him, to which he pays no mind.

All of Choso’s focus is on getting you to your bedroom, knowing better than trying to fuck you on your couch, not for your first time anyways. And now his head is full of all the times after, will you let him take you on all the surfaces in your home? Will you pick fucking him on your couch over the completely inane show you were watching earlier?

When he reaches your bed, he leans down, aiming to gently lay you on your mattress but you’re still clinging to him. He speaks into your skin, “Trying to put you down.”

“Right…” You smile bashfully and let go, dropping the last inch onto your bed.

He’s crawling over you and moving in to kiss you softly, lips gentle as he holds you. It’s sweet and fleeting, already he’s pulling away from you to pull his shirt off. Leaving himself bare to you, his skin enticing. Only realising the meaning behind this action when his hand is trailing down to your pants, fingers dancing along your waistline. He’d taken his shirt off to ease your nerves about him undressing you.

Little glimpses of how he regards you in his actions, treating you with a kindness you’ve never felt. A concern for how you feel and how he makes you feel, all completely wordless, not feeling the need to explain himself. The fingers at your pants tickle against your skin, his eyes meeting yours and finding that you’re looking at him with borderline hearts in your eyes.

His hand slips past your waist band, tugging your pants down over your hips. You lift your legs to aid in his removal of them, feeling absurdly shy lying in front of him in nothing but a shirt and your underwear.

Palms smooth up your inner thighs, lightly pushing your legs open for him to sit between. His eyes burn into you, making you feel nervous. You try to close your legs but his hands are heavy on you, keeping them open. When you look at him, you can see his skin flushing a very pretty light pink.

“You’re so wet,” he comments, hoping to fluster you more than him.

It works because you’re squirming again, legs struggling fruitlessly against his grip, “Shuddup.”

Mindless hum coming from him as acknowledgement and you doubt it’s because he’s actually heeding your words. More so he’s had another thought and moved on, motives clear when one of his hands moves from your plush thigh and to your panties. Thumb pressing into the wet spot on them, dipping into your cunt only to tease you.

Drawing his thumb up, he presses into your clit, giving pressure against it and not much else. Small whines and stuttered breaths leaving you at his teasing, feeling completely on edge and realising he’s probably not going to stop teasing any time soon. Clearly he gets pleasure from watching you fidget and struggle to keep your noises contained.

He tortuously plays with you over your panties for too long, fingers sweeping from your clit to your hole and back too many times. Your wetness leaking into your underwear the longer he plays with you, the thin material moulding to your pussy. Hips jumping every time his finger trails over your clit, pleasure so muted that you’re growing frustrated with him.

“Choso,” you grumble at him, reaching your limit.

He barely glances at you, still playing with your pussy, “Finally found your voice?”

Bastard… he’d been waiting for you to say something. His patience almost frightening, no hurry in his movements.

“Can you… do more?” This is embarrassing, it’s your first time and he’s teasing you so cruelly, “Please?”

He smiles politely at you, “Of course.”

Bastard…

Finally, after what feels like hours, he’s tugging your panties down your legs. Foreboding smile on his face as he holds them up, thumbing over the crotch of your drenched underwear. At your disgruntled whine he discards them to some corner of your room haphazardly. Feeling so vulnerable, you go to close your legs again, the contrast between his and your state of dress something you’re too conscious of all of a sudden.

“Keep your legs open,” he chastises, hand on your knees and pushing them apart obscenely.

When he shuffles to lean down you startle, “You– you don’t have to do that…”

“You don’t want me too?” His eyebrow quirks at you.

“You won’t get anything out of it…”

He’s a little annoyed that you stopped him for such a stupid reason, “Not what I asked, do you want me to eat your pussy?”

You can’t look at him, face absurdly hot, “…Yes.”

“Worried about stupid things,” he murmurs, moving onto his stomach again. Pulling you closer to his face once he’s in place, “I’m going to enjoy this immensely.”

Stuttered gasp leaving you, he’s not waited anymore, apparently having deprived himself long enough. Maybe it’s his fault for playing with you for so long but he’s grown desperate for this, if you hadn’t let him, his heart might’ve broken. He licks through your cunt, tongue opening up your slit. Small grumbles leaving him as he drinks you down, his arms wrap around your legs and tug you open more, face pushing into you.

You’re a little worried he’s going to suffocate himself, his eagerness staggering. Just as you’re about to say something to him, his tongue is insistently pushing inside your hole. Shocked whines leaving you as he fucks you with it, his nose rubbing into your clit. You’re a twitching mess, already so pathetically close. All his teasing has made everything so much more sensitive, head fuzzy as he laps at your cunt.

One of your hands reaches down and threads through his hair, tugging on him. He doesn’t even flinch, throaty moan leaving him the only evidence that you had actually pulled on him. He’s ravenous and obsessed with how you’re fluttering around his tongue, your small whines and huffed breaths making him dizzy.

Looking down at him you hope to mumble out anything but when you’re met with his glazed over and lidded stare, your heart stumbles in your chest, pussy jumping. He looks drunk on you, his throat bobbing as he slurps down your slick. He’s messy and the sounds filling the room are wet and depraved. With how he’s fucking into you and the look on his face, you can’t tell if this is more for your benefit or his.

Cries of his name leave you, stumbling over the syllables every time his nose presses into your clit just right. Then he’s withdrawing his tongue, sad pitiful noise leaving you at the loss of getting so close. A hand leaves your thigh, single digit probing at your entrance, pushing in so carefully. His eyes locked on how you’re stretching around his finger to accommodate him, he feels like he’s going to start drooling.

Your cunt so warm and tight around his finger, his chest pulling at the thought of opening you up with his cock. The clumsy manner in which you’re calling out to him making him feel sickly fond of you, pressing a light kiss onto your inner thigh.

Unexpectedly, he praises you, “You’re pretty,” murmured low, his eyes racking over your whole form.

The compliment has you shy, it’d be so sweet if your slick wasn’t dripping down his chin. “I– thank you…” you look away from him.

He chuckles at your response, refocusing on your cunt, slowly pumping his finger in and out. Relishing in how you squirm at it, beginning to seriously doubt your ability to take him. Taking his time in opening you up, digit rubbing against your inner walls just to watch your chest stutter and hips twitch.

Not adding a second finger until your whines are pitchy and you’re relaxing around him, stuffing your little cunt full with his two big fingers. The feel of your walls clamping down on them making his dick twitch in his pants. Scissoring his two digits to stretch you open, impatient and mouth watering, he’s leaning down to lick at your pussy again. Tongue slipping in with his fingers just to get a taste of you before slurping at your clit.

You feel full and dizzy, head lolling back as he fucks into you, struggling to close your legs around his body. Free hand still holding you, pushing up to open you even more. Choso’s name leaving you through mumbles, hard to talk around your moans. The way he’s stroking your walls has you seeing stars, his tongue on your clit making your back arch.

It’s so much, not able to decide if you’re trying to roll your hips down into him or if you want to pull away. Not that you’re getting much of a choice anyways, anytime you twitch away he’s growling at you and pulling you right back down to him. The sounds of his fingers fucking into your pussy filling the room, wet slapping that would be embarrassing if you weren’t getting so close.

The hand in his hair tugging on him again, dark moan leaving him, not stopping for a moment. He can feel how you’re squeezing down on his fingers; he can hear the way you’re skipping breaths, thighs shaking from the build-up. He doesn’t stop, even as you whine and push at him, so sensitive that your impending orgasm feels like too much. He’s not depriving you of this, he’s not depriving himself of this.

With a loud gasp and shocked whine, you’re cumming around his fingers. Almost feels like Choso purrs at how you’re contracting around him, not stopping his movements to help you ride out your high. Eventually pulling his fingers out of you only to grab onto your other thigh and pull you completely open. Mouth on your cunt before you’ve even really registered that he’s made you cum.

He lewdly slurps at your pussy, apparently having been patient about making you cum when this is what he really wanted. You’re sensitive and flinching away from him, soft whimpers leaving you, not even able to try and move away from him with how he’s holding you. The hand you have in his hair pushing at his head weakly.

“Choso– it’s– hah– too much,” your eyes feel wet and your thoughts are foggy.

He groans in disappointment but pulls back all the same, though not before blowing lightly on your clit, smile evil at your twitchy reaction. Showing mercy, he moves his head to rest against your thigh. Teeth nibbling at your skin, tongue lathing over the small marks he’s made. Finally sitting up and resting on his knees, he delights in how ruined you look. Marks he’s left on you from all his kisses on your neck, your thighs, cunt glistening with your cum and his saliva, eyes glazed, lips swollen from his kisses and how you’d been biting at them.

Readjusting, he trails his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt upwards as he goes. His eyes meet yours, checking to make sure you’re okay with his actions. You’re lifting your arms to help him take it off properly, shirt sharing the same fate as you’re other clothes and being banished to the floor.

He can’t help himself, hands groping at your tits, squeezing and pulling at you. Lightly pinching at your nipples just to make you gasp. Leaning down he lays his tongue flat over your nipple, licking at it sloppily. Messy in how he drools onto your sensitive skin, hands still pawing at the fat of your tits.

Distracted by how he’s playing with your naked body, neglecting his throbbing cock. Switching his mouth to your other nipple, teeth dragging over it lightly. His dick leaking into his pants at the shiver he pulls from you.

“Cho–” his name gets caught in your throat at how he pinches at you, back arching up into him.

The small way you called out to him seemingly enough to pull him back to, finally removing his mouth from you in an obscene display. Thin string of spit connecting his mouth to your skin, breaking when his tongue passes over his lower lip. Moving upwards, his face nuzzles into the side of your cheek, leaving soft and wet kisses against you. Fighting the urge to leave even more marks on you, instead resting his mouth next to your ear.

“You doing okay?” His breath is warm but still it sends a pleasant chill down your spine.

You nod your head at him in response to his question, not feeling sure enough of your voice to try and speak.

A hand holds the side of your face, his lips meeting yours in a wet kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth fervently, small groan sounding from him when your hands hold onto his shoulders, appreciating your touch. He’s warm, a comforting warmth that you’re coming to crave from him. Looping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down onto you, his skin against yours.

His mouth parts from yours at the sudden shift but lets it happen, his arms scooping under and around you. Skin against yours tickling a part of your brain nicely, your legs wrap around him. Wanting him pressed up against you completely, only to whine when you’re met with the material of his pants.

Choso huffs a small laugh at your disgruntled noise, amused by your desire to have him pressed to you. He shifts to sit up but you’re clinging to him, refusing to let go. “If you want me to take off my pants I need to sit up.”

Annoyed, you let go and flop back onto the mattress. His eyes watch the way your tits move with the force of your landing and you cross your arms over them, “Take off your pants then.”

He doesn’t waste any more time, tugging his pants off hastily, like he’s suddenly been reminded of just how hard his aching cock is. It’s quick how he undresses himself, one second wearing pants and the next completely bare with his large cock in his hand. Lightly stroking himself, hissing between his teeth at the slight pressure.

Flushed a deep pink, so hard and leaking precum down the length of himself, it looks almost painful. Before you can reach out for him, a hand is pushing back on your thigh, “Need to be in you.”

You don’t even get a chance to be shy, not with the way he’s rubbing the tip of his dick between your folds. From your hole to your clit and back down again, pressing into you just slightly each time.

He speaks through his teeth, “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed,” you return.

“You’re not,” he can barely push in, too worried about hurting you.

He presses his thumb to your lips, about to ask you to lick, surprised when your lips wrap around it and suck lightly. His skin flushing a deeper pink, feeling like he’s about to melt into a puddle in front of you. A breath shudders through him as he pulls his thumb from you, reaching down and rubbing circles into your clit. You need to relax for him.

His cock probes at your entrance, carefully pushing into your gooey hole. Still so cautious of your comfortability despite the ravenous need clawing at his insides. After a bit of coaxing, he’s able to push the tip of his cock inside. Your chest seizes and your cunt clamps down against the feeling, the stretch painful enough to have you shocked but not enough to have you in legitimate pain.

Choso just about passes out, your pussy so tight around him that it takes him off guard, even more so when your hole flutters around him. He reaches out for your hand and laces your fingers together, his breaths heavy and sputtered as he tries to collect himself enough to talk you through it.

“Gotta relax,” he huffs at you, dick jerking at the pretty look on your face, “I’m gonna take my time, gonna be so careful with you, so just calm down.”

“Oh– Okay,” you can do that, you can calm down.

Choosing to focus on something else, on how his hand holds yours, on his voice soothing you. Trying hard to even your breathing, partway succeeding, enough so that you’re relaxing again. Something Choso is infinitely grateful for because he felt like he could cum from the tight grip of your cunt and the cute look of your pinched brows alone. He’s so patient with you, waiting until you tell him it’s okay before even thinking of moving again.

Voice still shaky when you tell him, “Y–You can move, Choso.”

He grunts at you, an acknowledgement that he’s heard you. Hips slow as he sinks in more, breath catching at how you react to him. Thumb back on your clit to help you take him more, only getting about halfway before your free hand is pushing back on his chest. Immediately he stops, not wanting to push you past your limits. Your hand is gripping his tight, it makes his heart tug, his hand squeezing back at yours.

“You’re doing s–so– hah– good,” he coos at you.

Aiming to help but his voice is breaking and needy and the only thing it does is make your pussy flutter around his achingly hard dick. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head at the feel of your slick walls.

Glancing down, you worry, “I don’t th– think I’m gonna be able to take it all.”

You sound so concerned about not fully taking him and he can’t help but chuckle breathlessly at it, “That’s okay, this much is enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, “You okay if I move?”

Nodding at him, “Yeah, you can move.”

Drawing his hips back, he hisses through his teeth, brows scrunched as he focuses on his movements. Careful as he starts a pace he thinks you’ll be able to handle, fucking you on half of his cock. Even this much has his head spinning, addicted to the feel of your plush cunt sucking him in. Relishing in the sound of your rapid heartbeat and stifled whimpers, your hand unravels from his to grip the sheets. He takes the chance to hold you open, more control over his pace this way.

Incoherent whines tumble from your lips, words not even close to comprehensible. Desperate need resting inside your chest suddenly, you want all of him, you want to feel stuffed to the brim. Trying to convey it is hard, especially when just half his dick has your brain scrambled and fuzzy.

“C–Cho– more,” stumbled and huffed but clear enough, “Please.”

He hesitates, “I don’t think–”

“–Please~” you whine out to him, plead stretching long with your gasped moans.

He can’t help but cave when he looks at you and sees your cute expression, unshed tears sitting pretty on your lashes. Giving you what you want and fucking into you, stuffing more of his cock inside your tight hole each time he thrusts in. He feels like this might be as close to heaven as he’s ever going to get, opening you up on his fat dick while you tremble under him.

Choso’s beginning to feel like a mess with how you’re squeezing him, so tight his balls ache. Your staggered breath and absent gaze driving him crazy. Skin glowing with a sheen of perspiration while your eyes roll. His cock hitting so deep inside you your breath hitches when he’s finally balls deep, you could almost could swear he’s in your ribcage.

Your toes curl and your head lolls back, drooling at how it feels to be this fucking full, your mind truly slipping through your fingers and he hasn’t even begun fucking you proper yet. Before he moves he grips your hips, fingers digging into the fat there, enjoying how soft you are. Drawing back cautiously to make sure he doesn’t do anything to hurt you and upon realising you’re basically already fucked dumb finds himself thrusting back inside you. The force of it rocking you, fingers gripping the sheets tight as you moan pathetically.

Setting a rabid pace, he finally lets himself fuck into you how he craves. Hands gripping your skin while he stuffs your sensitive pussy, your lips bulging around his thick length, struggling to take him. Beyond turned on with how good it feels, obscene and wet slapping resounding from the room, along with the pitiful sounds you manage to let slip.

Beginning to feel like he’s fucking you to borderline insanity, his or yours he can’t ascertain, all he knows is that he’s obsessed with the slick heat of your cunt. Effectively pussy drunk and if he thought he wasn’t leaving your side before he sure as hell isn’t now, not willing to give up something as sweet as you. It’s funny how you’ve basically pussy whipped him without even trying or knowing.

“Feel s–so– fuck– feel so good,” he gasps at you, needing you to know just how perfect you are.

His hands move from your hips to anywhere else he can grab, handsy as he gropes at you, wanting to touch you everywhere he possibly can. Eventually landing on wrapping around you and pulling you up, the position having you sinking down on his cock more. Sputtered moans leaving you at the sudden change, arms looping around his neck and scrabbling at his back, nails no doubt leaving marks.

Chest to chest, skin contact that has a shiver running down your spine pleasantly. You wish you could tell him how good he’s making you feel, how close you’re getting, how fuzzy your brain feels but the words won’t come. Instead settling for whimpering into his shoulder, drooling on him slightly.

His hands travel lower and grab at your thighs wrapped around him, pulling you further open and using his grip to use you like a sex toy. Fucking you so deliciously and easily that you feel like the room is spinning. Your mouth latches onto his neck, leaving behind dark marks, something for your mouth to do beside crying out his name uselessly. Not that he particularly minded, enjoying immensely how wrecked you sounded as you cried out for him.

He notices the way your breath catches and nails dig into him more, getting close to cumming. Something he wants desperately, his thrusts more forceful, excited at the thought of you gripping him sinfully tight.

“You been doing so good,” he breathes, “Just let go for me.”

The words spoken against your ear sends a tingle through your body, muscles pulling tight like you’re getting ready for impact. Your whimpers pitchy as you twitch in his grasp, your nails nearly making him bleed. You’re cumming around him so perfectly, falling apart in his hands, squirming and hips jumping. Cunt so fucking tight he swears he’s gone to heaven, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moans shamelessly. His teeth bite into your neck, lathing over the wound quickly healing any blood he might’ve drawn with the action.

Hips jerking up into you as he fucks you through it, your orgasm ultimately triggering his. Shuddering as he cums inside you, filling you to the brim with it. His blood boiling as he continues to fuck you through his high, all too happy to let it leak out of you.

His unstopping thrusts pushing more of your combined mess out around his dick with lewd squelching noises. Sheets all sticky, evidence of how messily he’d fucked you. When you mumble at him he stops thrusting into you, somewhat begrudgingly, all too willing to force you and him into overstimulation.

Instead of pulling out and placing you down, he stays seated inside you and lays on his back. Leaving you laying on top of him, his arms around you again, embracing you. You’d snuggle into him more but you’re still not sure you’re in your body, limbs all so heavy.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he sounds sheepish when he speaks into the top of your head.

You hum at him in disagreement, “Was good.”

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he asks, “Want to get cleaned up?”

“You’re gonna have to give me a bit, I don’t think I can move yet…” your eyes feel tired, “…Or today.” It feels like he grows warmer at your comment and you smile lazily.

Maybe he should feel more concerned over how fond of you he’s grown but as you drift off on top of him, snoozing so peacefully, he really can’t find it in himself to care.

𝐀/𝐍: i put my whole visussy into this fic ngl and i had so much more i wanted to add/do to it but it quite literally sucked motivation away from my soul. if you guys have questions about the story though you're more than welcome to ask ! i literally had SO many notes for this fic and while i don't think it's the best thing i've written i am obscenely happy to have finished it and i hope you guys like it !!! thanks for reading <333

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision ★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances

#visionwrites #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #choso x reader smut #kamo choso x reader smut #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x reader smut #choso smut #kamo choso smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #choso x you #kamo choso x you #choso kamo x you

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pretty-circa006 · 8 months ago

Text

Sneaking Out

Stepdad! Negan x F! Reader

summary Negan catches you sneaking out to go to a party and punishes you accordingly

tags age gap (reader is 19, Negan is pushing 40), spanking, unprotected p in v, making out, slight dacryphilia, stepcest, nudity, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, vaguely implied underaged drinking, hair pulling, use of pet names, cumshot

this is my first time posting my writing on here, kinda nervy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

wc: 2.65k

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She sat on her bed, crying. Knees tucked to her chest and head held in her hands as small sniffles and whimpers escaped her lips, despite her best efforts to stay silent. She resented her mom for being so strict and not letting her go out to parties like others her age. She was sure her mom would have let up once she graduated high school, especially since she was legally an adult now, but it only seemed like she doubled down even more. Things got even worse once her mom married her stepdad, Negan. Per her mother's request, he installed security cameras in the front of house and the backyard to ensure she couldn't sneak out. And the few times she tried, she failed, because Negan would be up late, playing video games in the living room or smoking a cigarette in the backyard by the poolside, making it impossible for her to sneak out. She was so miserable, watching everyone have fun over the summer before college while she wasted away in her room with her only entertainment being behind a screen or imbedded in the pages of a book.

It was so unfair. Especially because she knew tonight was gonna be the party of the year. One of the rich girls in her graduating class was throwing a pool party at her mansion, her mansion which housed one of the best pools she'd ever seen. And somehow, she was lucky enough to be invited. This was an opportunity of a lifetime and if it meant being grounded for an eternity, so be it.

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She had one foot out her bedroom window when she heard a knock on her door.

"Hey kid, can I come in?" her stepdad, Negan's, voice called from the other side of the door.

"One sec, I'm not decent!" she fibbed as she stumbled back inside her room. She shut the window as silently it would go before she slipped under the covers of her bed, hiding the fact she had on nothing but a tropical, triangle bikini.

"Okay, you can come in now," she called out. Negan let himself in, glancing around her room suspiciously. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, tattoos peeking out from beneath his white t-shirt, and obvious outline of his dick through his gray sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Despite being hidden beneath her sheets and comforter, she felt vulnerable and naked beneath his skeptical gaze.

"You're not plannin' on sneakin' out, are ya?" he asked, tongue seductively swiping across his bottom lip. She nervously swallowed, heat blossoming across her cheeks.

"N-no, why?" came her shaky reply.

"You are a shit liar, kid," he laughed, a handsome smirk on his face.

"Why would I sneak out? There's nothing for me to out there anyway," she doubled down, not feeding into his bait. He stalked closer to her bed before sitting down at the foot of it, hazel eyes boring into her soul.

"So you're not going to that pool party happening right now?" The tone of his voice was sarcastic, hinting that he didn't believe a word coming from her mouth.

"Pool party? What pool party?" She punctuated her question with a fake yawn to try and convince Negan that she really was tired and ready to go to bed for the night.

"If you say so, kid. Just know that if I catch your lying ass sneaking out tonight, you'll be in for a world of hell when I punish you." Her thighs involuntarily squeezed together at his words and the action didn't go unnoticed by Negan. She nodded her head while silently praying he'd hurry up and leave so she can sneak out.

His eyes narrowed at her as he stood up. "Night, kiddo," he said, patting her knee through the comforter for good measure.

"Night, Negan!"

She continued laying in her bed, petrified, for another ten minutes until she heard the door to her mom's bedroom shut. Negan's words did manage to strike some fear into her, but not enough to deter her from her original plan. She was sure he was in bed now and falling asleep for the night. After silently sliding out of her bed, she tucked a few decorative pillows in her previous place in hope they'd fool Negan or her mom if they peek in to check on her.

Her hands were shaky when she re-opened her bedroom window. Nerves were finally getting to her. She could hear her heart beating rapidly in her ears as she began having second thoughts about doing this. Negan was nowhere near as strict as her mom, so his punishment couldn't actually that bad. Not that she'd actually have to worry about his punishment, because she wasn't gonna get caught.

She crept out of her window and stepped onto the roof. She closed her window, only leaving it slightly ajar so she could get back inside later. Careful not to slip on the roof's slippery shingles, she tiptoed to the edge and looked over at the space from here to the grassy ground. Too late to go back now. She sat on the ledge and turned herself around so she could hang from the ledge before dropping into the soft grass.

She looked back at the house, elated she was finally out and what fun was about to come

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The dark morning sky was slowly beginning to turn into a lighter blue as she clumsily climbed the trellis back onto the second story's roof. Her slightly intoxicated brain made it so her movements weren't as agile and quiet like before. She lifted her window open and unceremoniously fell inside, smacking the carpeted flooring with her face.

The first thing she noticed was the potent smell of tobacco followed by his signature whistling.

"Aw, fuck," she groaned to herself. She heard the springs of her mattress release as Negan got up and soon his socked feet came into her view. He reached out a hand and helped her up after she gratefully accepted it.

He looked pissed. His thick eyebrows settled into a frown and his hazel-green eyes were devoid of any kindness. She nervously crossed her arms over her body, feeling naked under his gaze.

"How was the pool party?" he asked.

"I wasn't a-at a pool party!" she lied.

His look only darkened, making her weak in the knees. From fear or arousal, she couldn't tell.

"What kinda goddamn fuckin' idiot do you take me for? You are literally dripping wet and wearin' a damn bikini!" he pointed out the obvious.

"I was swimming in our own pool in the backyard!" she lied with such little conviction that she couldn't even fool herself

He stepped closer to her and if she wasn't already so close to the wall she'd have stepped back. She averted her gaze and chose to look at the chipped, bubblegum pink nail polish that adorned her toes. Negan wasn't having any of it, though, and forced her to look up at him by grabbing a fistful of her wet hair and tilting her head up. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"What did I tell you would happen if I caught you sneaking out?" he asked between clenched teeth.

"That...that you're gonna p-punish me..." The tears were streaming down her face now as she sniveled pathetically.

"Attagirl," he darkly praised, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. The slight praise caused her stomach to do backflips and her core to clench over nothing. Her face felt hot and her breathing shallowed as her only thoughts were what Negan would do next.

His grip on her hair stayed firm as he walked her over to her bed. He released his hold before taking a seat onto the plush mattress. She stood before him, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot and nibbling the skin around her thumbnail, awaiting what was to come. His large, warm hands gripped her hips, pulling her to stand between his legs. She glanced down at him as he looked up at her, but her eyes drifted past his face and down to the bulge growing in his sweatpants. She was embarrassed to admit it, but her mouth watered at the sight.

"Now, I want you to know that this shit could have been avoided had your stubborn ass just listened to me," he stated, his grip on her hips growing firmer. She nodded her head, not knowing what to say and not wanting to anger her stepdad even further.

He pulled the ties on either side of her bikini bottoms and let the damp garment fall to the floor between her feet. She nervously bit her bottom lip and looked down at him, but he was too busy eyeing her cunt and soft thighs, which glimmered with the slick of her arousal. He looked up at her as he licked his bottom lip. He patted his thighs.

"Bend over my fuckin' knee, doll," he ordered. She warily obeyed, despite the humiliation of having him see her bare, wet pussy. His roughish hands caressed the soft flesh of her ass, admiring the mounds. Without warning, his hand came down harshly on her right cheek, earning a yelp from her.

"Keep it down," he hissed before landing an even harsher slap to her other cheek. She only whimpered this time, pursing her lips to fight the noises that yearned to escape. He continued his assailment on her ass, leaving it stinging with numbness. Her whimpers turned into a mixture of sobs and wanton moans which only tightened his pants. By the looks of it, he wasn't the only one getting off to this punishment. Her cunt sparkled with her arousal, arousal which was leaking down her thighs.

"Negan, please!" she begged. Her thighs were clenched together as she tried to rub her aching clit on his thigh.

"What is it that you want, baby?" he questioned. His big hands kneaded at her squishy flesh. He knew damn well what she wanted, but he wanted to hear her beg. Her weeping pussy was practically begging to be stuffed with his big cock.

"Need you! Need to feel you inside me," she begged between sniffles and sobs. She stood up from being bent over his lap and sat on it, straddling him instead. His arms snaked around her waist and hers around his neck before she leaned down almost close enough to connect her lips to his.

"Please, Negan?" she whispered against his lips. His eyes flitted from hers down to her lips which were so close to his. Her eyes fluttered shut as she gently pressed her soft lips to his, his facial hair pricking at her skin. Negan could name a plethora of reasons why this would be wrong, but the one reason it felt right overpowered them all, so he grabbed the back of her head and crashed his lips against hers. The desperate moan she let out gave Negan the perfect opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like some fruity cocktail that was really just a bunch of things mixed together by some inexperienced kid. He'd have to take her out for a real drink one day. His tongue traversed her mouth, consuming her. She desperately ground her bare pussy on his clothed bulge, eliciting pleasured groans from him. His hands felt up her body before untying her bikini top from the back and the neck, leaving her completely bare on his lap.

"Please, Negan, I need to feel you," she begged after pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were glued to her tits, watching them as her chest rose and fell while she caught her breath. He cupped them in his hands before giving them a squeeze. Her head fell back as she let out a wanton moan. The rough skin of his fingertips gave her hardened nipples some much needed friction as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.

"You got some nice fuckin' tits, babydoll," he complimented, only making her wetter.

Her hands slid down his chest, then torso, then stopped at the waistband of his pants.

"Neeegaaan," she impatiently whined.

"Well, baby, if you want it, go ahead and fuckin' take it." His dimpled smile almost brought her to her release right then and there. He lifted his hips so she could pull his cock free. His length audibly smacked his abdomen, the tip an angry, flaming red and leaking with precum. If her core wasn't aching so badly, she'd have gladly taken him down her throat. She took him in her hand. He was so big that her fingers didn't even touch. She stroked him a few times as he sucked bruising marks onto her neck and collarbones. He held onto her hips as she lined him up with her sopping center, stroking him along her slick folds before sinking all the way down on him. The stretch was there, but not painful because she was so wet and ready for him.

"Negan, you feel so good!" she moaned once he bottomed out inside of her. Her nails dug little crescent moons into his skin through his shirt as she began bouncing on his cock. He admired her tits bouncing as she rode him before pulling her closer and taking one in his mouth, kneading the other with his free hand.

The squelching sounds of her wet pussy and the smell off sex permeating her bedroom only made things more erotic. Negan was hitting every spot perfectly, but he wanted more. He freed her tit from his mouth before flipping their position. Her back was now laying against the bed and Negan stood over her, his cock still inside. Now that he had more control, his thrusts came harder and faster, his tip almost kissing her cervix.

"Goddammit, doll, you were made for my cock!" he praised. More profanities and moans fell from his mouth as her wet, spongy walls squeezed his cock. Her moans were growing louder and louder, making Negan worry that they might wake up her mom...who was his wife.

"I know that my dick is the best damn dick you've had and ever will have in your entire goddamn life, but you need to keep it down," he lectured. She rolled her eyes but pursed her lips in a feeble attempt to keep quiet.

They were both close to reaching their peaks and it was obvious by the way his thrusts grew rushed and sloppy and how her cunt was squeezing him.

"I'm gonna-" her sentence was cut off by a scream of ecstasy which caused Negan to cover her loud mouth with his palm. Her cunt squeezed him as her back arched off the bed and eyes rolled to the back of her head while she came. If he was thinking straight, he'd have left her high and dry as punishment, but his own orgasm was close and he'd be damned if he didn't cum. She removed his hand from covering her mouth and took two of his long, thick fingers into her mouth.

"Ho-ly fuckin' shit!" He swore, marveling at the sight. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on the digits.

"That's. My. Girl!" he praised with each thrust.He pulled out of her just as his orgasm came over him and shot his load onto her tits and stomach. He flopped onto the bed beside her and she rolled into his strong arms.

"Y'know I can't stay, gotta get back to your mom before she wakes up."

"Just ten more minutes?" she begged, looking up at Negan with those doe eyes of hers.

He sighed and lightheartedly rolled his eyes.

"Anything for my babydoll."

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback on how i can improve, i'd love to hear it!

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sjyuns · 1 year ago

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🗒️ 、 INTENTIONS

popular sunghoon x fem reader 1535 words genre fluff mikaela’s note because sunghoon is so tristan dugray coded, inspired by a gilmore girls scene

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” Sunghoon mumbles, and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

He holds your gaze confidently, with a tinge of arrogance as his tongue darts out to lick his lip. You think that Sunghoon is the most annoying person in the world, because how can he look so devilishly handsome and have such an intoxicating effect on you.

It all started when he showed up unannounced and uninvited to your birthday party — still in his school uniform, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up with his blazer hanging over his shoulder.

And you should have known better than to let him charm his way into your house. “What are you doing here, Hoon?”

He loves the way his nickname rolls off the tip of your tongue, it's so addictive and he wants to record it so that he can play it again and again, even if your tone is one of spite.

“Happy birthday princess,” Sunghoon completely ignores your words, taking steps closer towards you, “now, where’s my birthday kiss?”

He’s at it again, aimlessly flirting with you. You roll your eyes, a deep sigh exiting your mouth, “it’s my birthday, Hoon.” How did he even know where you lived? You were sure you told everyone you invited not to bring him along.

“So I’ll give you a birthday kiss,” he grins, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches your facial expressions fall, ears burning red as you quickly turn around.

You hate Park Sunghoon and the unimaginable hold he has on you. “I’m going to find my mother. Do not, I swear to god, cause any trouble.”

“Your mother? It’s a little early in the relationship,” he moves swiftly to your side, arms casually slinging over your shoulder as he pulls you closer into him forcefully. “But it’s okay, I’m ready.”

Where in the world does Sunghoon get his cocky attitude from, you think as you try your best to pry and lift his arm away from your shoulder. Despite your surface indifference towards his advances, there were millions of butterflies invading your stomach at his every single action.

Before you can even try to escape, a voice calls your name and you stop to talk to Yunjin. “Park Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”

Sunghoon steals a glance at you, and he thinks you look absolutely adorable as you pout at the image of multiple people seeing you with him; given how you always seemed to have complaints about his overly flirty nature and playboy ways.

But Sunghoon hasn’t fooled around since you transferred into Decelis two months ago, a personal record for him. At first all you were was a form of entertainment, someone who had cute reactions to his smooth pick up lines.

Then it all came crashing down, when he started to feel the need to bicker with you everyday and mess up your hair every time he sees you in the hallways. And somewhere in between the blurred lines, he fell in love.

“Here to celebrate my girl’s birthday,” he cocks his head towards you, who’s palms now cover your face in sheer embarrassment. God, now it’s going to spread like wildfire. His girl?

Yunjin’s eyes widen and jaw drops, “really? You guys are together? But I thought you were with Choi Soobin.” She asks, nudging you.

Sunghoon frowns at her words. Choi Soobin? Since when? Sunghoon literally follows you around school whenever he sees you, and he’s never seen you ever talk to that boy.

“Soobin and I are just friends,” you clarify, “also we are not a couple,” your finger gesturing to you and Sunghoon as you answer the girl.

“Tomorrow we’ll be a couple,” Sunghoon cuts back into the conversation, voice loud, and he catches your surprised expression as he smirks slyly.

Though he continues the conversation without a single stutter or break, Sunghoon’s feeling utterly disgusted. Is that the kind of boy you like? Nerdy losers who can’t do anything for the life of themselves? He doesn’t really like the thought of turning into those types of boys, but whatever you want, he thinks — he’s already practised abstinence for you, he might as well go all the way.

At the same time Sunghoon wonders if you’re really that oblivious to his obvious advancements towards you. He’s made it crystal clear: dumped his girlfriend, follows you around, talks about you literally all the time, and yet you’re still clueless.

And he whisks you away before you find the chance to clarify his words again. He’s determined this time round, to make it extremely straightforward for you.

“Hoon why in the world would you say stuff like that,” you groan, hands slapping his chest. And he grins like an idiot at your touch, if this was what it took for you to initiate skinship with him, he’d be more than willing to proclaim himself as your boyfriend any day.

He places a hand on the place you’d just hit, “it’s painful,” he pouts, and you almost feel a little guilty at your harsh actions, “can you kiss it better?”

Until that. You huff, “i’m leaving,” you announce as you turn away, ready to walk right back into the crowd. Sunghoon quickly clasps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

Your eyes become those of a deer caught in headlights as your body is pressed firmly against his, his arms finding their way to your waist; a gentle but firm hold as he bends down.

“Wasn’t done yet, princess,” he smirks, and you feel some sort of danger looming over because Sunghoon looks like a devil enticing you to commit sin. His black hair styles perfectly like always and his red tie, due to his excessive movements, is now dropping down even more to expose his honey skinned collarbones.

The most you can muster is a mumble, “what,” and your eyes are glassy as you stare up at him, he thinks he might go insane — so close to just moving in to place a kiss on your invitingly soft lips.

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” and he literally spits the term out, unable to believe he’s labelling someone else other than him ‘your boyfriend’. He knows you guys aren’t together, but just for the comfort of his heart he has to hear it again.

It takes you a while before you process his words. “He’s not my boyfriend, Hoon,” and it’s that short statement coupled with the way you say his name that really breaks it for him.

Sunghoon moves in just as you finish your sentence, and he sinks into your pillowy lips. It’s paradise on earth and he thinks he will never be able to get enough of this feeling.

“Sunghoon,” you mumble when he breaks the kiss, slightly out of breath as you look up with hazy eyes.

He chuckles, “sorry, baby, my bad. I’ll return your kiss back,” and Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to give you another kiss, fingers caressing your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

This time it’s you who breaks the kiss, way too out of breath to even form full sentences without a few breaks in between. “You just kissed me.”

“Right, I just did that baby,” he smiles, those tiny fangs of his showcased as he gazes adoringly at you. “Actually, I’m looking for a girlfriend.” He pauses, eyeing your flushed cheeks and pink lips, “you looking for a boyfriend by any chance, princess?”

Now that you’re literally glued onto Sunghoon, you take the chance to look at him. Sharp nose, pretty moles that you could probably trace along all day, and his eyes which contrasting to his calm demeanour, held anxiousness as he waited for you to answer.

You’ve thought about dating Sunghoon before. Multiple times. Way more than you should’ve. And you never wanted to ever confess to it, because he was everyone’s crush. And not only that, he was annoying — constantly teasing you and making you flustered by his actions. You’d curse every time your heartbeat started to accelerate at his flirty words. You had thought that there was no way he’d ever like you back.

“I’m looking for a boyfriend,” you admit, letting out a soft giggle at Sunghoon’s overjoyed expression. And you decide that maybe now’s the time to get back at him, tease him a little to get him to stay on his toes, “maybe I should go find Soobin.”

His shoulders drop almost immediately and his arms wrap around your waist securely, chin resting on the top of your head. “No fucking way,” he grumbles, “you’re my girlfriend now. And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, you are,” you say, voice muffled in the embrace of Sunghoon. And you hear him giggle slightly, the rumble of his chest exposing the boyish feelings your boyfriend was currently going through, “for now.”

Sunghoon lifts his chin from your head, fingers brushing over your cheeks before they land themselves on your jaw. He tilts your chin up, “too bad my intention is forever.” And he places a chaste kiss on your lips again and again.

You are in for a long ride.

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lillianh2 · 3 months ago

Text

My Woman

Jenna Ortega x Fem G!P SMUT!!!

18+ only

"baby?" jenna called as she walked into your shared apartment. you both recently moved in together, with both of your careers taking off to an amazing start, you wanted to finally live together after dating for almost three years.

"i'm in the kitchen, my love!" you say back to her as your finishing up cleaning the dishes from the night before. both of you being to tired after diner to clean up, you saved it for the next day.

you smile when you hear soft steps enter the kitchen behind you, "there's my woman.." you say as you turn around with a grin, walking over to the shorter girl and softly grasp her face.

"and there's my baby, i missed you-" she cuts off her sentence to lean into you closer, "and fuck you smell good honey." she then wraps her arms around your toned torso while leaning in to place soft but firm kisses to your jaw line.

you giggle softly while rubbing your hands along the small of her back and let them slide lower while kissing her temple sweetly, " i knew you'd like the new perfume, got it today actually" you say while smiling and rubbing the soft of her ass, she moans lightly in your neck, still placing kisses but more wetter as she begins to slightly nibble on your sweet spot, only her knowing where it truly is. which is the only way you'd want it.

with a teasing push away, you peck her forehead and grab her hand, dragging her towards the front door, "babeeeeee, what are you doing?" she asks while whining with her head thrown back slightly, you laugh at her actions and grab the keys to your bike and drag her out the door and to the elevator down the hall.

once inside, jenna stands against you as she always needs to be touching you in some way. you love it though. she's your baby doll. you side eye her with a smile as she's still waiting for your response. "what's the pouty face for?" you ask softly, grabbing her hand and holding it firmly.

"i just wanna kiss you and hold you all night in bed, but you're dragging me outside!" she giggles while looking up at you with those pretty brown doe eyes that make you weak in the knees every damn time. you can't help how adorable she is, her hair a little messy from her long day on set, and her plump lips you've yet to kiss, speaking of.

you grab her jaw lightly and bring her lips to hers without another word, her lips move against yours instantly and you smile inside knowing she's pleased with your action. while you're kissing, you rub your thumb along her jawline and begin to lick at her bottom lip, her gladly letting you enter as you two begin kissing harder

"i love you," she moans softly, she's definitely needy today. little does she know you'll take care of that soon, you respond back, then kiss at her jaw.

"at this point just fuck me here, please" she teases lightly, you lift up to look her in the eyes, but before you can say anything, you hear a ding "ah we've arrived, my love." you giggle with a wink, grabbing her hand and walking out.

once you're in the garage you find your bike and get on while helping jenna as well. waiting for her to wrap her arms around you, making sure she has all her gear on, you slowly leave and head off to the road.

while driving, you're plan is just to go to the grocery store to grab some ice cream for you and jenna. you knew she had a long tiring day, so you wanted to have a movie tonight to try and help her relax for the evening. she's been working long hours and you are so proud of her, but she does need her rest. while at a red light, jenna starts to lower one of her hands to rest on the muscle of your thigh.

"baby.." you say as she begins to edge her hand painfully slowly to your crotch. your grip the handles a little tighter than before as she begins to slowly rub your shaft through your jeans. "mmm, i want you so bad, i rather ride you than this bike, honey" she says through your earpiece, then she softly grips your dick since it's hard now, and she continues her torture as the light turns green.

"jenna, please.." you softly whimper as you turn into the grocery parking lot, her hand now back to being wrapped around your waist as before. like nothing ever happened. yeah you were the top in the relationship but she could easily touch you a certain way or say the right words, making you melt in her palm each time.

"seems you're a bit excited, babe." she says while getting off the bike as she looks down at the print in your jeans from her past action, you groan while standing to adjust your pants. failing in making them more comfortable. " yeah so funny. i'm actually leaving you here" you joke as you begin to walk away, but not long as you feel her jump on your back effortlessly, you naturally grabbing at her thighs to hold her there.

"you would never to such a thing.." she whispered in your ear, then kissing your cheek as you playfully rolled your eyes and carried her into the store.

once you sat her down you began to find the frozen section in hopes of finding her favorite ice cream. after telling her about it on the way in, she was beaming like a little girl thinking about her ice cream. standing at the frozen section you scan through and find the butter pecan, per her request of course, and look to see jenna staring cutely at a little girl in the cart, who was smiling at jenna. she begins to wave at the child and she blows kisses back to her. you place your hand on her waist and smile at the interaction.

" she's so adorable, look at her darling," she says to you as she lays her hand on your chest and you smile over at the girl, waving back to her since she did to you. "that she is, maybe we can have us a baby one day. yeah?" you say while starting to walk to the check out. she smiles brightly and hugs your side to her body.

"of course we are! god, a mini you would be so. fucking. cute. and perfect. " she exclaims, you toss your head back with a laugh, " oh yeah? what about we just have one right now?" you say to your girlfriend...

back at your house....

soft moans and the sound of wet skin slapping against the other was heard through the house. you pounding into jenna while hovering over her, your back muscles flex hard under her black nails that have left scratches along your back from your long cock that you're stuffing her soaking pussy with. "fuck baby, you're so fucking tight and wet, damn this pussy" you grunt as you bite at her neck, her moaning in your and the feeling of her hot walls rubbing against your dick perfectly as they always have. you loved her. all of her, and making love to her was never boring. it was better each time, if even possible.

" mmm yes, right there! oh shit, fuck- fuck, i'm gonna cum y/n" she moans loudly, scratching at your shoulders while her legs are tight around your waist and with each thrust of your cock, you can feel her clenching repeatedly around you, knowing she's close. your mouth open slightly, you look down at her with hooded eyes as you begin to fuck into her faster.

"cum with me, jenna. take my baby, i wanna cum all inside this pussy, all in it" you groan, asking her permission silently, she nods " please cum in me. i need your baby, give it to me, please, please, oh fuck-" she moans loudly as you slam into her hips, your cum spurting into her already drenched pussy, she catches her breath as she closes her eyes to take in the feeling of your cum leaking inside her "you okay baby?" you softly ask, kissing her forehead as you're still cumming a little inside her. she hums happily, eyes still closed as the runs her hands through your messy hair, you kiss her soft lips.

slowly pulling out, your cum spilling a little, you look down with a smile and then return to see jenna already looking at you. "i love you so much. whatever happens i trust you and i wanna spend forever with you" she says with a serious face but loving smile. you smile back and kiss her forehead before laying behind her to cuddle her against you. she places her hand in yours, intertwining them as you kiss her naked shoulder and say, "i love you more jenna" and soon after too both fall asleep in the comfort of each others arms.

an: first post on here, lmk if it was trash

#wlw smut #jenna ortega #g!p reader #smut #millers girl #woman #gxg #jenna ortega x reader

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wandagcre · 10 months ago

Text

i got what you need | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

You're walking on eggshells with Wanda. She's unaffected and you're confused. It doesn't help that your encounter with your best friend unraveled new sensations for you, that it made your small break a huge challenge as you spend it with her.

WARNING: jealous!wanda, corruption kink, defiling childhood bed (r), dirty talk, degradation, almost fingering while in front of other people, perverted actions: using inanimate objects as plushie and hairbrush for sex, unconsented pictures, guilt-tripping, steve and tony as your parents bc why not | +18 men & minors dni. Words: 5.1k Notes: i'm back, kinda! i hope everyone enjoys this :3

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Your best friend, who lent a helping hand – pun intended – is coming home with you during your break.

While you were beyond appreciative, you were nervous more than anything on how to act normal while being on the receiving end of Wanda’s affection without the flashes of the sensual touches and little adventures she took you on. It played like a crazy loop in your mind. Not only that, but it definitely shed a light on your feelings for the woman. You’re certain now that you like her more than a crush, more than as a friend.

Wanda revolved tenfold inside of your mind. Your little thoughts grew into a garden of filth, her consummate touch and moans playing like a broken loop – distinct and even agonizing.

You can’t help but worry still. Sure, Wanda has been increasingly affectionate – you didn’t even know that was possible. She barely let you go and her stares that lingered weren’t that slick even to your own observation – yet, you weren’t sure how Wanda feels about it. She never spoke about it, even after blowing the fuck out of your mind…

Little did you know, Wanda had a lovestruck fool of a grin on her way to her room, after accompanying you back to your own. You were a blushing mess, both hearts pounding as you walked through the carpeted halls, your best friend truly lived up to her words – expanding your horizon of taste when it comes to bed activities.

It was a torture to still feel Wanda’s fingers exploring your depths, her coaxing tone clear as a day, all while she brought you to a high you’ve never had before.

Shortly after, you went back to your normal routine. Your smile was wide as ever, Wanda mirroring yours with her head against the doorframe, checking you out from top to bottom. The thump on your chest didn’t ebb when she met you for a study session.

There was enough space between the two of you, and it’s safe to say how it was unnerving and Wanda didn’t like it one bit. Why were you holding back?

The chair creaked as she moved it closer to you.

“I can’t do this,” Wanda whispered vulnerably, slamming her book close which startled you. One moment she was busy flipping through the pages as you, who tried so hard to contain the thoughts, and suddenly you feel Wanda’s breathing by your side.

“What?” Was all you could say until you saw her head tilted and unmistakably leaned closer to you – feeling her soft lips pressed against your chapped ones, her scent washing over your senses.

The action was so chaste that it made Wanda feel her stomach flutter. You held her waist tenderly and gave her an eskimo kiss. She smiled at the contact and the woman was wrapped up into a softness she loved about you. It slightly made Wanda feel ashamed of her dirty thoughts.

All it took was for her to recuperate her mind and look down to your v-neck shirt that emphasized your breasts and made Wanda’s mouth water. You met her in a liplock, hers filled with an edge of roughness and wanting that churned up your resolve. She’s fast and devouring your pretty lips, that it wasn’t long before you caved in to Wanda’s frantic touches and she adored how you tried to keep up with her. Your best friend made sure you remember the traces she left you, reigniting the rush from the other night.

It honestly brought you to a point of being overwhelmed. The questions rattled you and Wanda can feel the gears turning in your head. Nothing else happened but her words struck you.

“Don’t you dare leave in the morning.” She muttered while caressing your nape, her arm snaked around your mid waist as if you were to disappear in thin air. And so you didn’t.

You woke up embarrassingly wet again. Was it the flashbacks? Had Wanda spilled her drink in the bed again? Or perhaps it was the so-called discharge you’ve learnt from her? You immediately fled from the scene, timidly asking Wanda for set of new clothes you could borrow.

Each day progressed badly. You remained baffled at the events even more that it led you to slowly slip away from your closeness and routine. It aggravated the woman, you can see her neat eyebrows crease every time you made up a poor excuse. Though, you were thinking that it’s Wanda; beautiful and you didn’t have an inch of worth to her standards. Whatever that relapse was, it bothered you.

Meanwhile, Wanda was motivated to get you both out of this funk.

Though, you rushed out of your dorm that made Wanda’s beautiful emeralds become puzzled as soon as you saw her in front of your doorstep, holding a paper bag full of love – her words, not yours. You can’t help but internally coo at her effort, which made you act before you even think of it. All you did was leave a kiss on her soft cheek and left her with nothing but a cryptic reply of meeting a friend.

It was a whiplash to the two of you. You weren’t this impulsive and intimate; while a part of Wanda is appreciative, reddened with your initiative, she was unaware what was the pushing force. Especially when you have been practising unspoken boundaries for the past few days – now she has to overthink who was this friend you speak of.

Were you hanging out with someone new? The girl from the library whom you shared a table with and constantly smiled at you, maybe the one who was too touchy and friendly with you at your student org? Her mind ran for miles. Was that what you craved? A new thing that could offer much more? Wanda huffed in disagreement. She doubts that someone else can be better than her.

There Wanda was, struck, a little humiliated and crestfallen. It felt like you were teasing her. The frustration builds up her chest as the woman couldn’t do her usual moves to you as workload took both of your time.

As much as Wanda possessed and adored her collection of erotic polaroids that contained you, nothing could beat the real thing now. Not when she successfully coaxed you to open Pandora's box – the memory of you riding her pillow to the brink of wetness and first orgasm, how she luckily had another time with you, still anew to her perverted mind.

She’ll make sure to make you pay back for this.

Around noon, you met up with your best friend. You guys were still following through your original plans for the break – your filthy rendezvous be damned. Zipped up in her black sweater, her denim jeans and chunky shoes. To your surprise, the emerald eyes were already looking at you. Your lips were caught in a twist, looking away in embarrassment.

“You’re barely covered up.” She nods over you, her tone amused.

It caught your attention. “Why? Doesn’t it look good?” You’re clueless, doing a small twirl for your best friend and self-consciousness has begun to eat you.

“Great. Wonderful, actually.” Wanda’s rasp stoked something in you, making your eyes quickly flit in her direction only to be met with dilated pupils that raked over your figure – one you were acquainted with. “But look at the skies, it could rain.”

You looked up at the gray clouds and shrugged. “We have your car. We’ll be fine, Wands.”

She concedes and it falls silent. Being in her car was the closest you two have been besides the previous incident. Though it was awkward for you, Wanda looked just fine. You stole glances of her side profile every now and then as she inspected her stuff in the visor and glove compartment. A small smile escapes your lips as you see the little trinkets you gifted her proudly displayed on her dashboard and still thoughtful as ever, Wanda adjusts the car’s AC towards you. She smelled wonderful, the awareness of your Wanda-deprivation kicking in.

“Where were you?” Wanda finally asks. Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “When you, uh, kissed me on the cheek. You seemed to be in a rush.” She clarifies with an adorable blush on her face. That was new.

Your eyes fluttered rapidly, not meeting the woman’s inquisitive green eyes – a telltale sign of you hiding something.

“Um, just ran some errands.” You sheepishly reply.

Wanda merely hummed in disbelief. She leaned to your side, fastening the seatbelt for you.

“Uh-huh. And I’m not buying that, you know?” Her honeyed voice washed over your neck so lightly, making you suck your breath in. It doesn’t help that you feel Wanda’s hand clasped and brushing over your front. “You suck at lying. What’s bothering you?”

“Let’s… let’s not talk about it right now, Wands.” How odd, Wanda thought. Still, her mission of riling you up was on the move and this motivated her even better.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek in disappointment. You’re lucky that she loves challenges and she’s nothing but persuasive.

She sighed, letting go of the topic for now. “Okay.” Wanda will crack it out of you.

The pitter patter of your heart only grew with Wanda's feather-like touch, the woman softly hummed along the songs in your playlist. You're graced with her perfect side profile that your eyes cannot help but flicker back and forth, from her eyelashes up to her plump red lips and the slight movement of her wetting them with her tongue. It didn't take long for your mind to get sucked in flashbacks; how they felt against yours and the expanse of your skin...

“Are you alright? You look a little flushed, dorogaya.” Wanda murmured.

Your breath hitched and both your hands were gripping onto the seatbelt across your chest, the need to lessen your lightheadedness constantly increasing.

“We’re visiting your home to relax, (y/n/n). Maybe I can help you to de-stress again.” The woman feigned innocence in her words. You didn’t pick it up but she knew your mind was running a mile, recalling how good her definition of ‘de-stressing’ was.

How your best friend took you carnally on her bed… twice. At least the ones you remembered.

“Like a massage?” Your voice cracked, looking unsure over Wanda.

A devious smile is painted on her face.

“Sure, something like that.”

After a few hours, the two of you pull up into your hometown’s driveway. There’s a newfound feeling that stirred between you two after that life changing event – albeit Wanda coming over wasn’t exactly foreign, it felt as though your relationship progressed further.

Like she wasn’t here as your best friend, but something more. That had you nervous like a hopeless teenager again, barely normal around the woman you’re crushing into.

She was greeted with shoes being left on the doorstep and saw the picture frame that she cannot help but coo at each time she sees it. You look away which only tugged at Wanda's heartstrings. She pulled you close for a side hug. You were so fucking adorable. Both of you arrived at your hometown near dinner time and the more Wanda sees the parts of your house, her excitement grows more to finally see the room you grew up in.

Amongst other things…

Your best friend naturally takes the seat beside you. It was getting harder for her to restrain herself as she saw your outfit that went along with the breeze of the night. You changed into comfortable shorts and an oversized shirt, a contrast with your mostly covered self at the dorms.

Wanda’s eyes kept fleeting over the bits of your exposed skin and the whiff of your scent and lotion that got into her senses.

She absolutely cannot control herself.

“How's university life treating you, honey?” Steve asked, turning the rotating table on your way. It brought Wanda back to reality as seeing you shift uncomfortably in your seat, for a split second you halted on taking a spoonful of the meal. You were not willing to unpack the stress that you momentarily left miles away.

Wanda senses it and bites onto the opportunity of lending a supportive touch on your arm – a comfort to you and for herself. She orbits around you at this point and one thing Wanda knows well is the feeling of handling it on your own.

“She’s wonderful. This one is always trying her best at all times, sometimes I find her sleeping at her study table. I have to find ways for her to relax on multiple occasions.” Wanda smoothly took over with a charming smile.

Suggestiveness may not have been your strongest suit, but you learned enough from your best friend by this time enough to be nervous to the next words she was about to drop. You remember the ungodly activities that only your dorm can ever know. How uninhibited you were under Wanda’s voice and touch… the floating and inexplicable sense of relief that it gave you.

You feel your palms sweat. “No need to tell them all that, Wands,” You quickly chewed on your food, feeling slightly bothered.

“All I’m saying is I make sure (y/n) over here is in good hands. She keeps me grounded and I intend to return that gesture as well.” The grin on Wanda’s face was seeping through her tone. “She’s… quite a hard worker. Always deep once she’s locked in the learning zone.”

While you knew what she meant – you’re thankful that your fathers only took her words with a sweet smile as they listened intently with hands clasped at the table, taking Wanda's words as a reassuring reminder that you weren’t alone.

Conversations occurred again and it somehow led to a fit of chuckling and sounds of agreement at the dining table with more stories of your other dad, Tony's raging party days – refined into an appropriate storytelling, of course with your Pa Steve around – telling you the do’s and don'ts, and Wanda’s caresses had progressed into tiptoeing across your arm, then placing her hand atop of yours. She takes it as a win when she sees your slumped shoulders become less tense.

Among all things, you haven’t noticed Wanda's eyes that raked over your legs right now. She tunes out a little. As much as she loved being in this opportunity with you, your bestfriend still craved you and you were there, unknowing. Hers for the taking. She couldn’t help but ogle at your thighs through your short jeans, exposed before her own eyes, and clearly recalling how addictive they were to caress and mark.

Hands slithered on your left thigh, a ghosting touch that was beginning to rile you up. Wanda was on a mission to grip you softly by your thigh. It made you visibly hitch your breath, making Wanda chuckle. It made you flustered, hands tense around the utensil and so was the muscle of your thighs. Your best friend notches it up, feeling her fingertips stroke on your plush inner thigh. She feels so warm over your cold skin. Dangerously near your core. You’re familiar with it now – sensing the overflowing need and desire in Wanda’s grasp over you.

You gave her a pointed look. What was the point of this? You didn’t want your parents to catch you. It was beyond exhilarating. “Wanda, what’re you up to?” You utter close, only audible for her to catch.

“Nothing.” She shrugged as though her actions weren't anything scandalous.

By gods, Wanda cannot wait to have her hands and lips all over you again.

After the weird encounter you had at the dining table with Wanda, you both changed into indoor clothes. Nothing is ever that too normal with Wanda, you suppose. God, the teasing! It was torture. You were close to combusting into a mortifying pool of distress and lust – perhaps it was Wanda’s plotting all along because of the unwipeable grin etched on her gorgeous face.

She playfully (or so you hoped) suggested taking a shower together but you became a mess at the thought alone, you were stammering and barely making eye contact in front of your best friend. Wanda seemed to take mercy and left you to gather yourself, but not without a kiss on your cheek and a light slap on your ass.

Almost like she was mocking you for the same thing you did a few days ago.

She was cuddled up to your side, mindlessly tracing your arm and the soft skin of your slightly exposed stomach. The bed was better than the one from your dorms, offering a decent space for the two of you. Even enough for some of your plushies to lay in. It was driving her to the wall, looking at your fitted shirt that emphasized the swell of your breasts nicely, and the sweatpants combo that you wore for tonight. To Wanda’s mind, it was like you paraded yourself like fresh meat for her, ready to be taken once again. Your free hand stroked her brunette hair as the movie played on the television in front of you, occasionally pulling back when your phone rang.

You hear Wanda huff ever so lightly beside you at the divided attention she was getting.

“Just some project stuff,” You lean your phone to Wanda’s eyesight for affirmation. The group chat came into her view.

Her eyebrows creased once again. “At this hour?”

“Yep. Probably overthinking. More than me, which is surprising.” You humorously said to ease her protective nature and thankfully, Wanda snorted at.

“Hmm. Don’t respond now,” Wanda whispered as she burrowed her face on the crook of your neck. “You smell so good.”

You smiled nervously. Her breath tickled against your skin. “You smell just the same. Well, you used the same products as I did…”

You were talking nonsense out of nervousness, she could tell. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t call you out. You typed away, itching to wrap the conversation and enjoy your time with your best friend. Wanda can see it from the way you responded, she was so proud that it filled her with delight. She’s happy to know that a time with her was a bigger priority.

Underneath the light interaction, there was the desire that continues to brew in the pit of Wanda’s gut. She couldn’t do anything for now. As much as she wanted to stay up, the driving tired her out. So Wanda rested her eyes for a couple of minutes, hugging your bunny plushie.

Until there was a sigh of content that stirred Wanda to wake into consciousness.

Her brain didn’t register it for a few seconds. It continued, so pitiful and mewl-like. That can’t be right. She paled in realization. When Wanda woke up, she caught your hand in the cookie jar – the arched neck and eyes screwed shut, biting your bottom lip to suppress the moans. God, Wanda raked over your exposed legs and halfway pulled down underwear, as though you were so desperate — in a rush to touch yourself.

“And you were going to invite me, when?” You turn your head too quickly at the sound, you pull your fingers back like you were burned, eyes flutter just as rapidly.

“I didn’t think–”

“Clearly you weren’t. Touching yourself like a whore that wasn’t treated properly,” She snarked back. “You could’ve asked me this – days ago – and I would gladly give it to you, dorogaya. Now tell me, what were you thinking about?”

She scooted closer to you, on her knees and Wanda’s brunette hair still messy yet beautifully cascading. Her green eyes were filled with nothing but mirth.

“I didn’t know what to think about… it was better when you, um, led me a few weeks ago. I mindlessly just went for it,” Your center was wet, Wanda notices, but not as it was when she was deep in you a few nights ago when you were fast asleep.

“See how much you need me? That’s why you should’ve told me. Instead of roping me into a limbo with you.” Wanda settled between your legs. You audibly groaned when she took off your underwear, your legs feeling less restricted. “Maybe you need to be taught another lesson.”

She sees you visibly gulp. Your throat felt dry all of the sudden. “W-whatever you think is best for me, Wands.”

“Best for you, huh.”

She called you a whore but it didn’t phase you that much. You suppose it was the truth, no decent woman would touch themselves with their best friend innocently laying beside them. Wanda loved seeing your doe eyes. So compliant, the fear of being punished and talked down while simmering in careless yet a raunchy act reeled her in the most filthy thoughts once again.

“Did you get your fingers nice and wet?”

“Y-yes,”

“You sucked them good enough for me?” The thirst was unmistakable in Wanda’s saccharine tone that made you drip every second in your underwear.

She saw your inner thigh muscles become tense, as though you were grounding your mind, preparing for what was about to come. You hesitantly nod – embarrassed that even in suppression of your feelings, Wanda remained as the star of your lust and pent up desires. Maybe honesty will serve you well.

She pinned your wrists above your head. It embarrassingly made your back arch at the slight recoil due to the firmness of her grip and action. You were cruel for igniting a spark of hope, the icing of it all she got was a random kiss on the cheek. Wanda had enough of playing nice.

“We’ll start with the game of truths before you get rewarded. Is that fair enough for a whore like you?” The term rattled you – oddly in a good way. It sent you on a submissive headspace, being degraded by a different version of Wanda was satisfying. It made your stomach do flips and your cunt pounding. “Tell me who was the friend you met up with.”

It caught you off-guard. You feel bad at the realization that Wanda was racking her mind over it.

The friend in question was no other than her own brother. You wanted clarity on Wanda’s headspace, how to woo her, how the woman was like when it comes to… relationships. Naturally, her twin Pietro came to your mind. You spoke of your conundrum but nothing more than that – you can never share whatever happened in the dorms, of course.

“It was Pietro,” Your voice cracked at the confession. “I had some questions to ask about you.”

Wanda's fingertips skimmed over your ribs, trailing lower. Your breasts were practically begging to be groped – the way it flopped perfectly as you laid down. Did you say it was about her? She muses what it could've been about. She doesn't like being excluded from it.

"You're already with the better Maximoff twin. You should have asked me instead, whatever it was. I thought I was your favorite," Your bestfriend said, hurt. She caressed your knee and the action sent tingles right up your southern part. You shivered in pleasure. “My brother always gets everything. He can’t have your attention as well.”

You didn’t Wanda to misconstrue things from here on. "I know and you are, Wands! But it was about relationships, I wanted to know if uh, you were in one from the past and what you think of them,”

It seemed to do the trick, her aura calming down at your words.

“Let me get this straight, you wanted to know if I fucked someone before and if I’m a girlfriend material, so to say?” It was shameful when she said it out loud. Like you were frenzied to know Wanda outside of her comfort, making you avoid eye contact. "Oh dorogaya. If you wanted me, you already had me from the beginning. I'm definitely your girlfriend now."

Wanda has a devious smirk. It warmed her heart you consulted her twin and she basically had your mind hostaged. The smell of your arousal though was affecting her slowly.

She continued, “You left me high and dry. Do you think that’s fair for me, dorogaya?” Wanda raised an eyebrow, her tone condescending.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s always like that. You know I would never do you wrong, yet still…”

“I-I’m sorry,” You repeat hopelessly. “How can I make it better, Wands?”

She gave your mound a slap. Hard enough to startle you, yet your hips chased and bucked for more of Wanda’s touch.

“We can start with a few things. I wanna know if you used something else other than your fingers when you first explored masturbation.” Wanda wanted you to sit uncomfortably in your hole of shame it seems.

Her dexterous fingers bristled with intent, sensual and motivated to turn your gears. Wanda’s finger pads skimmed on your folds, just above the surface. Albeit each stroke did not come with force, it didn't stop you from slowly spreading your legs apart further and further.

"You just can't help it, hm?" Wanda’s eyes darkened when a sheer wetness covered her fingers. “Maybe it was mister bunny over here. Have you thought about grinding your pretty cunt against this soft plushie?” You breathed rapidly at the implication, heat spreading at the tips of your ears.

Wanda held the toy by its neck, the face of the innocent bunny being rubbed at your bare skin. It descended from your mound to your cunt. When you attempted to shut your legs at the teasing, she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, unamused as your erotic mewls of desperation bounced off the four walls.

You felt the fur of the material, getting tainted by the sinful act. Wanda stretched your folds as she dug the toy deep as it could get, rubbing it back and forth. You closed your eyes as you reel at the foreign sensation, it tickled you – almost near as grinding over Wanda’s pillow – remembering her words; gyrating your hips, letting your weight fall completely. To simply feel. So near your clit. But it was futile with its barely cuddle size.

“No, I’ve never,” You breathlessly reply, on edge.

A smirk fell onto her lips. “But you enjoyed that, didn’t you? I don’t think you used it either. It’s too small for someone as needy as you. You’re a big girl who wants a big reward,”

The striking difference of Wanda was moving you in ways you never thought it could. She was unnerving and demeaning, yet it was palpable with pleasure. You look over your side – the nightstand. Wanda follows your line of sight and it clicks to her what the object was.

“You used this?” Wanda humorously says, her green eyes dilating further. She held your hair brush, right at its bulbous tip and it made you feel so ashamed. “So adorable. I can definitely see you fucking yourself with this. Some good old penetration. Now, open your legs wide for me.”

You hesitantly spread them. Wanda clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, looking at the hot mess that you were. She went in slow with your pretty, wet hole intruding with the bulbous tip that you haven’t felt for a while. You felt the impatience in Wanda’s motions, pushing and pulling until all of its length was inside of you. Granted, it wasn’t much, but it stimulated you nonetheless.

Oh, it drove Wanda crazy.

“Maybe next time I’ll fuck you with a better toy,” She pushed the tip and you feel her tongue flattened, licking across your neck. A better toy? You wondered for a brief second. “A double-ended strap. A slut like you would enjoy a pleasurable length and girth, I can tell. Now say it how bad you want it,”

“I’m–I need you so bad, Wands!” You whined with bucked hips. "O-oh! Please, please. Wands..." You grasped on her nape and peered over the unrecognizable emerald eyes.

Her pupils blown, cheeks visibly flushed, and holding you tighter by your love handles. You bucked your pelvis by instinct and it made Wanda sport a knowing smirk before latching her lips onto yours; a kiss fueled with rough need. Her thrusts with the hair brush’s tip didn’t falter. She thrived on this sight of yours.

Wanda shushed you. She roughly pulls you by the cheek, only to give you the softest kiss to the expanse of your tense jaw – slowly easing to her ministrations. Yet again, you have fallen under her spell. Was it the dark or lightness you see; that, you can’t quite figure it out. But you know that you craved Wanda just as much.

She pulled the bulbous tip away, rubbing the length across your slit. It progressed harder right on your throbbing clit.

"Please, please.” She mocks you. You squirm and feel the soft sheets rustle against you. “Be patient, dorogaya. This isn't meant to be fun for you. Can you imagine how torturous it has been for me for a month? I'm simply walking you through it, baby."

Your spine arched until your front chest met Wanda's clothed own and it naturally gravitated in return, making your bodies pressed in heat. She feels the tip of your nipples, all pebbled that she can’t resist but suck on them, giving them ample attention.

Even when Wanda slowed down her ministrations, it didn’t help with the pressure she applied over your clit. You feel her in circles and all determined, your legs spasming and arms slung around her, wanting to hold something to gravitate you through this fucking.

Wanda’s grip over you was strongly reminiscent of a leash; you’re whining like a hopeless puppy. Cheeks heating up as you squirm.

What else is there to detest? Wanda is here touching you in all the right ways. You beam at her all eager, like the woman has shown you colors you never thought ever existed. You felt the familiar release that sent your body and mind into cloud nine with Wanda slumped over your body. She kissed your forehead and during the moment of you temporarily passing out, you saw a flash of something flicker for a second.

She took pictures of your fucked out face.

You felt something that was poking your lips apart. You opened them mindlessly, soon it registered that Wanda had inserted the hair brush’s tip – she wanted you to clean it off. And so you did, putting up a best attempt to suck them off dry. You tasted sweet and salty. It felt raunchy and dirty… how her mind worked when it came to lust, you were certain that Wanda was a succubus sent to devour you and your well of innocence.

Wanda ravished you thoroughly. She took off her own clothing, deciding that she’ll have her time of pleasure later on. Who knows, maybe she’ll introduce you to tribbing. Imagining your determination of wanting to please her, grinding harder against her cunt – Oh how it excited Wanda now that you were hers.

“Next time you want something, just tell me.”

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #perv!wanda #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagines #wlw #lesbian

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cece693 · 4 months ago

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Calm Down Cowboy (Jasper Whitlock x M! Reader)

I never expected much love to come from my first Jasper fanfic, so as thanks, here's another one :)

Summary: You were a social butterfly, however, that doesn't excuse your husband's actions. However, was it really all bad if it led to him being possessive and taking charge.

tags: jealous Jasper, social butterfly male reader, petty cowboy, happy ending, smut, past mention of Tanya/reader

It was almost funny, looking back on it now, but in that moment, you were steaming like a kettle ready to burst. After all these centuries spent by Jasper’s side—dozens of weddings, countless anniversaries, and endless reassurances—how could he still get jealous just from you talking to someone? You were well aware of your own charm; a social butterfly whose charisma, suaveness, and good looks drew people to you like moths to a flame. But Jasper knew this too. He knew you never encouraged those who fawned over you, nor did you let any past lovers hold sway over you anymore.

Yet, Tanya Denali seemed to light a fire under your cowboy like no other. It didn’t matter how many times you’d promise it while fucking him that Tanya was nothing—just a brief fling in your long, immortal life, severed the moment he'd come into it—he still couldn't stand the sight of her.

It started innocently enough. The Denalis were visiting Forks, and you'd found yourself chatting with Tanya. The conversation was light, inconsequential—a quick catch-up on each other's lives. But then Tanya, ever the flirt, edged closer, her hand brushing against your arm, her laugh a little too soft, too familiar.

Jasper, who had been watching from a distance, stiffened immediately. You could feel his emotions boiling over, his usual calm demeanor cracking as Tanya leaned in, her fingers trailing down your sleeve. You glanced over your shoulder, trying to catch his eye and silently communicate that it was nothing, but Jasper was no longer standing in his spot.

Instead, he was striding toward you, his eyes dark and full of a possessiveness that made your stomach twist. "That’s enough." he said sharply, stepping between you and Tanya. His tone was harsher than you’d ever heard from him, a growl that had everyone around you suddenly going silent.

Tanya raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh, come on, Jasper. I’m just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, is there?”

Jasper’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. "Funny how you always seem to forget what ‘no harm’ means. You don’t belong here, stirring up old shit.”

You quickly put a hand on his arm, but Tanya wasn’t done. “Oh, Jasper, I had no idea you were so insecure,” she cooed, her eyes flicking to you with a knowing glint. “I thought you’d trust your mate by now, especially after all these years. But I suppose some habits die hard.”

Jasper’s muscles tensed under your grip, his temper flaring hotter than before. “How would you know? You haven’t found your mate yet," he snapped back, his Southern accent thickening with every word. "Why don't you take your desperate ass back to Alaska and leave what's mine alone?"

“Jasper!” you hissed, pulling him back before things could spiral out of control. This was so unlike him—he was usually composed, especially around others. But Tanya had a way of needling under his skin, and she knew exactly how to make it worse. You tugged at his arm, dragging him away from the porch and out of earshot of the others, who had started murmuring in shocked whispers. Emmett’s booming laughter grated on your nerves, adding to the tension.

But Tanya wasn't finished. She threw a final parting shot over her shoulder, her voice laced with venom. “You know, maybe Jasper’s right to be worried. It must be exhausting, trying to keep up with someone like you. All that fire and passion—maybe he’s just not enough for you anymore.”

Jasper jerked against your hold, his eyes flaring with fury, and it took everything you had to keep him from lunging at her. "You listen here, you conniving bitch—" he started, but you cut him off, practically dragging him away from the scene before he could finish his sentence.

“Jasper, stop!” you pleaded, your voice tight as you struggled to keep him from breaking free. His anger was like a living thing, wild and uncontrollable, and you knew that if you didn’t get him away from Tanya, things would get ugly fast. “She’s just trying to rile you up! Don’t give her what she wants!”

He stopped struggling, but his whole body was tense, vibrating with barely suppressed rage. “I’m not letting her get away with that,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “She thinks she can just waltz in here and—”

“And she’s not worth it,” you interrupted, stepping in front of him and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You know she’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let her win.”

Jasper’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, his eyes still blazing with anger, but slowly, he began to calm under your steady gaze. “I can’t stand her,” he muttered, his voice still laced with venom. “She thinks she can just say whatever she wants, like she knows us.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” you assured him, your hands sliding up to cup his face, forcing him to focus on you and not the lingering venom in Tanya’s words. “And I don’t care what she says. You’re the only one I want, Jasper.”

For a moment, it seemed like your words would be enough to soothe him. But the tension was still there, simmering beneath the surface. His eyes darkened, his hands gripping your waist possessively. "Show me." he demanded, voice raw, an edge of desperation beneath his anger.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift, but you saw the need in his eyes—the need to prove himself, to reclaim what was his. You nodded, giving him permission to take the lead, knowing this was a big step for both of you. Jasper didn’t waste a second. He backed you up against a nearby tree, his mouth crashing onto yours with an almost feral hunger. His hands roamed over your body, rough and urgent, as if he was staking his claim with every touch.

He was never like this, never so commanding, but you let him take what he needed. His lips moved down your neck, his sharp teeth grazing your skin before a burning fire settled on your collarbone. His venom would create a scar there, a mark that you were his and vice versa. "Mine." .

"Yours." you assured, threading your fingers through his honey-blonde hair. "Only yours."

He didn’t slow down. If anything, your words only spurred him on. The heat between you two built quickly, his need palpable. He pulled away, his eyes locking onto yours, searching, almost as if he was begging for you to understand. "I need to know." he whispered. "Need to feel it."

You nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “Then take it. Take what you need.”

And he did. His movements were intense, almost punishing, as if he was trying to erase any doubt Tanya had planted with each thrust. You met him with equal fervor, matching his intensity, your bodies colliding in a raw, unrestrained dance that left you both breathless. His hands were everywhere, gripping, claiming, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

As the tension between you two reached its peak, Jasper buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the bite. “I love you.” he murmured, his voice shaking with emotion. “Don’t ever doubt that. I’d burn the whole world down before I’d let anyone take you from me.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close. “I love you, too, Jasper. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

For a moment, everything was still. Then, slowly, Jasper's grip on you loosened, his anger ebbing away as he relaxed into your embrace. You both stayed there, holding each other tightly, knowing that nothing could break you guys apart.

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captainamericasmotercycle · 5 months ago

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Can you write a Cregan Stark x Targaryen wife where she is readying to go to the battle since she is the rider of Cannibal and he is with her nervous and makes her promise to come back to him and before she leaves he tells Cannibal to take care of her, he is nervous the whole time that she is away only calming down when he sees her and Cannibal come back.

omg i love this 🥹 wc: 1.7k

warnings: reader is a targaryen (parents and family are unspecified), cannibal's rider, ooc cannibal, cregan loves his wife and will never stop, reader has silver hair and is shorter than cregan (its okay tho he's huge)

After being away all day, the only thing that Cregan wants is to be in your arms. He searches around Winterfell, looking to find a glimpse of silver hair. He finds you in your chambers, hunched over the small desk by the window.

The candle you had lit was almost gone and you didn’t hear him enter. He stalks over to you, noticing your riding clothes on the settee by the bed.

“Did you go out today, my love?” He leans over you from behind, kissing you on the cheek.

You are hesitant to respond, just staring at a message that had arrived this morning. Cregan takes a knee beside you, trying to read the message that has taken all of your attentoin grasped in your hands.

My dearest kin, the Hightower usurpers have taken the lives of the Prince Lucerys Velaryon and the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, along with their dragons. The Rogue Prince and his dragon still remain to be of any help in our time of war. The Queen remains cautious and Vermax is still much too young to be of great help. Baela is doing the best she can on Moondancer, patrolling the East ends of the Riverlands and the Reach, but we need more. My mother has recruited mongrels to ride Seasmoke, Vermithor, and Silverwing. We need you and Cannibal, here, on Dragonstone at once — a command from the Heir to the Iron Thone.

Cregan freezes. You rub a hand over his knotted hair. He reads over the message again, and again, and again. You were going to war, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He stood from his position, making his way over to the settee where your clothes were layed out. He cleared his throat, pushing out the feelings he was having.

You followed his actions, standing from your place at the desk.

“I must go.”

“I know,” he wouldn’t look at you, running his hand over his face.

You sauntered closer to him, “Cregan, look at me.”

He turned his body and his head, but his eyes were still focused on the floor of your chambers. You walked to him, pressing your body against his and taking his face in your hand; you could feel the beginning of a beard forming.

Pushing his face, you forced him to look at you, “Talk, please.”

“I do not know what you want me to say. You must go. It was a command, so it is final. They need you.”

His tone was soft and quiet, much different than the harsh and commanding tone he usually had. He held his hands on your waist.

“When shall you go?”

You take a breath, “I shall leave at first light.”

He brought his head down to rest on your shoulder. You pull him further into you, holding the back of his head tightly.

You pull from him, getting in your shared bed. You pat the spot next to you, asking him to come to bed with you. He discards his pelts, weapons, armour, outer clothes, and shoes, and gets into bed with you.

He lays against the headboard, you lay against his chest. He wraps his large arm around you, rubbing circles into your bicep.

“Rickon…” you began, thinking of the son you had become a mother to when you and Cregan had wed.

“Rickon will be cared for only by me and any hand maids of your choosing. He will have the best education and training - your name will be spoken highly at every meal and at every sleep—”

You sniffled softly, thinking of your boy, “I do not wish for him to forget me.”

Cregan felt his eyes get hot with tears, he pulled you closer into his warmth, “He will not forget you. I will make sure of that.”

Your breathing started to stable and your grip on his arm faltered. As you slept, Cregan could not find any shut-eye, worried about you.

He watched you the whole night. Watching as your chest rose and fell, and how your silver locks were splayed across the feather pillows and across your face.

It was nearly sun-up when your husband woke you. Your eyes fluttered open, you blinked roughly a couple of times to adjust your vision. Cregan paced around the room.

Instead of your handmaiden, Cregan, himself, helped you to dress for battle. You stopped in your son’s chambers, only waking him for a second to say your farewells. You kissed him back to sleep, tucking him in tightly; tears only fell after you closed his chamber doors and headed out to your dragon.

Making your way out of the walls of Winter Town, you found Cannibal in a large field dusted with snow. At your arrival, he huffed out to greet you, trying to rub his head over your chest.

You smiled, brushing over his scales with your hand. Cannibal awaited your mounting as you turned to your husband.

Grabbing his hand, you looked at him solemnly, “My lord husband, if the Gods decide I have served my time and served Westeros well… and I do not return,” you paused to take a breath, “I want you to take another to wed. Do not spend your life grieving over me. Rickon deserves a mother and you deserve more heirs—”

He grabbed both sides of your face, “I do not want to take another to wed. I do not need more heirs. I only need you,” he shakes his head roughly, the morning light hitting his features majestically.

“I will not even look in the direction of another. I will not take another to bed or wed. I will wait at the gates of Winter Town for your arrival. I will pray every sun-up and sun-down for your safe return. You will not be forgotten and there will never be another.”

“Cregan—” he cut you off with a kiss.

“Promise me you will come back,” his brows were furrowed, his face still close to yours.

You nodded to all of your extent, “I promise. I promise.”

He kissed you feverishly once more, finally letting you go, “I will send thousands of greybeards after you. They will meet you at the battle.”

Smiling, you sighed, beginning to mount Cannibal when he called out your name loudly. You turned your head one last time towards his booming voice, “Fight hard. Like a Northerner!”

A single tear ran down your face as you took off. Cannibal screeched, his sounds filling the Northern air. Cregan waited until you were out of site before he turned back to Winterfell.

He kept his promise; that night he began his prayers in the Godswood, dragging Rickon along with him.

After your departure he became cold and distant from his people and his men. He would spend many weeks at a time North of the Wall, trying to distract himself from you, but never forgetting his prayers.

His bastard sister was chosen to care for Rickon, and even as his sister, he could not stand seeing another woman care for him.

After the first year, he began bringing the young lord to Castle Black with him, though he was only about 4 years old.

He would occassionally get ravens from wherever you were in battle, but after a while, the messages lessened, eventually stopping. He did not want to assume the worst, thinking you were too busy to write to him.

After tireless pleas of his advisors telling him to remarry, he had killed nearly all of them for even suggesting such a thing. He had never been tempted to take another to bed; the only thing that kept him going was thoughts of you.

He grew his beard out in those long years you were away, his face seeing many harsh winters.

His eyes were sunken, he had become someone he no longer recognized in the mirror. His son had blossomed into a strong young lad, becoming great in battle at his ripe age of seven.

Rickon and his father were very close, only really having one another. They prayed for you every morn and night together, they prayed for you over every meal, and Cregan told many stories of you to his son.

Your memory never faltered, almost as if you were still in the North.

Nearly 5 years after your departure on that cold, dark morn, whispers in the wind had said the Blacks had succeeded in taking back the throne. The realm had lost the Prince Regent, the Usurper King and his wife, the dowager queen, and the youngest hightower prince.

The Starks were at supper when Winterfell’s guards yelled from every tower and station, “Dragon!”

“Dragon!”

Cregan and Rickon immediately perked up, sharing a look and sprinting to their horses. They raced to the gates of Winter Town, shouting at everyone on the streets in their way.

Almost jumping off their horses, Cregan and Rickon watched you and Cannibal land in front of them.

You looked a lot older, your silver hair was much longer and braided up, you held a stoic and stong look on your face. Cregan could tell you had been changed by the war.

You dismounted, running through the snow to your small family. Cregan grabbed you tightly, breathing into your hair, tears overflowing.

You kissed him hard, crying through it. You held his face and smiled through your tears, “Look at this beard!”

He laughed softly, “Five years and that is the first thing you say to me?”

You notice your son standing not too far away, turning to him, you cried more. He was so grown, standing at almost 8 years of age now. You knelt, holding out your arms, “My boy.”

He ran into your embrace, squeezing you tightly. Cregan knelt with you, taking both of your bodies into his arms. Cries and sniffles surrounded your family as you reunited.

Rickon finally broke the silence, wiping your tears, he held onto your shoulder, “Tell us stories about the war! Father told be the same stories of you for years, now we have more!”

You laughed, looking at your husband, “I will tell you all about my adventures tomorrow, but now I just want to be with my family again.”

———

taglist: @wolvestitches

#cregan stark x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #hotd imagine

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stylesispunk · 5 months ago

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"Did the love affair maim you too? | Final part

Joel miller x f!reader

previous part

chapter summary: Joel and you perhaps can have a happy ending.

w.c: 14,6k

warnings: angst, fluff, smut and poorly writing because I wrote in a rush and no proofreading.

a/n: Thank you to each one of you who read and enjoyed this fic. The amount of love was overwhelming and I'm thankful for it. This is the last chapter and I tried to make everyone happy with it. By the end, I realized I lost the main plot, but still, it was fun to write but I got bored AND I became a people pleaser with this chapter. Perhaps there will be more of them, some drabbles or things, but thank you so much for reading. I don't think I will write more series for a while, only one shots. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading, so much love for you. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You felt the beating of your heart racing as Joel kept staring at you. Those soft brown eyes on looking at you with delicate love now seemed to be a picture you wanted to save and remember as along as you could.

You wanted to find that sense of belonging to someone in a romantic way again, to be protected, to be loved.

“Good morning, Joel” You smiled at him

Joel shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace, pulling you against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, feeling safe and content in his arms.

Joel’s hand gently traced patterns on your back, and he chuckled softly. “You know… we forgot to go to Tommy’s last night,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I think we had more important things on our minds,” you teased lightly, your fingers brushing against his chest.

Joel’s smile widened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I guess we did,” he agreed, his voice filled with warmth.

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of lightness and happiness that had been missing for so long. “I’m sure they’ll understand,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.

Joel sighed contentedly, holding you a little tighter. “I’m just glad you’re here.” he murmured; his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “That’s all that matters.”

But as he kept his arms wrapped around you, you felt your thought drifting away. You knew you should feel content, but you couldn’t help but think this was a moment of weakness or that may everything you had lived with Joel had been like this.

You didn’t feel the warmth enveloping your heart, but a heavy sense of guilt settled in your chest, weighing you down.

Your thoughts drifted back to your fiancé, to your son. The memories of them were still vivid, the pain of their loss still fresh. How could you let yourself find comfort in someone else’s arms? It felt like a betrayal, like you were somehow dishonoring their memory by moving on. The guilt gnawed at you, making it hard to fully embrace the happiness that Joel was offering.

And then there was Lori. The guilt of her leaving Jackson, of the part you played in her departure, hung over you like a shadow. She had been hurt, her actions driven by a broken heart, and now she was gone because of it. You had wanted her gone, yes, but now that it had happened, it didn’t feel right.

You shifted slightly in Joel’s arms, the weight of your thoughts making it hard to stay still. Joel noticed, his grip on you loosening just enough for him to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

“Nothing,” you lied, avoiding his gaze as you tried to push the guilt and unease to the back of your mind.

Joel didn’t press you further, but the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. Instead, he shifted slightly, his grip on you loosening just enough to give you some space. “Do you want to sleep a little bit more?” he asked, his tone gentle, as if he was trying to offer you an escape from whatever was troubling you.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. The weight of your emotions felt overwhelming, and the last thing you wanted was to burden Joel with your fears and doubts. But the way he was looking at you, with so much care and understanding, made it hard to keep everything bottled up.

Joel’s hand found yours again, his fingers lacing with yours in a comforting grip. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Sleep a little bit more. I’ll wake you up, later”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave in to the exhaustion that had been weighing on you. You turned back onto the pillow, feeling Joel’s warm presence beside you, and let your eyes close.

As you drifted off, you felt Joel’s hand still holding yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

A little while later, you woke up to the sound of hushed voices in the next room. Blinking sleepily, you realized Joel was no longer beside you. The warm spot where he'd been lying was now cool, and the faint murmur of conversation piqued your curiosity.

Quietly, you got out of bed, slipping on the oversized shirt Joel had given you the night before. You moved toward the door, careful not to make any noise as you approached the source of the voices.

You leaned closer to the doorway, straining to hear the conversation.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Joel said, his voice tinged with concern.

Tommy sighed, the sound carrying the weight of the situation. “I saw her this morning,” he replied. “She was at that old cabin near the outskirts—the one we used to take Ellie to when she was younger.”

Joel was silent for a moment, likely processing the information. “And she’s alright? She didn’t try to come back?”

Tommy hesitated before answering. “She seemed... lost, Joel. But she didn’t make any move to come back to Jackson. She knows she’s not welcome here anymore, but she’s not exactly stable either.”

You felt a pang of guilt hearing this. Despite everything that had happened, part of you couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lori. She had lost so much, and now she was completely alone.

“Do you think she’ll stay out there?” Joel asked, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to Tommy.

Tommy let out a weary breath. “I don’t know. She’s unpredictable. But as long as she’s not causing trouble in Jackson, we might be able to avoid any more problems.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, and you could feel the tension hanging in the air. You knew he was torn, worried about what Lori might do next but also reluctant to push her further away.

Tommy spoke up again, “I know you care about her- “

“Don’t” Joel cut in sharply, his voice rough with emotion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's not about that, Tommy”

Tommy nodded, understanding the weight behind Joel's words. "You can't carry all this on your own. She made her choices, Joel. You can't save everyone."

Joel looked away; the strain evident in his clenched jaw. He wanted to protect everyone, to make sure no one else got hurt, but deep down, he knew Tommy was right. Lori was a wild card, and he couldn't control what she would do.

Tommy placed a hand on Joel's shoulder, his voice gentler now. "You’ve got something good here, Joel. Don’t let the past mess that up."

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "I know, Tommy. I just… I don’t want her to come back and cause more trouble."

Tommy squeezed his shoulder, then released him, giving Joel space to process. "We'll keep an eye on her. If she comes back, we'll deal with it. But right now, you need to focus on what’s in front of you."

Joel finally nodded, the tension slowly easing out of his body. "Yeah, you're right."

But as the conversation faded, you stepped out from where you'd been standing, your heart heavy with the burden of what you'd overheard. You didn’t want to cause more strain between Joel and Tommy, but the mention of Lori staying out there worried you just as much as it did Joel.

you quietly stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, making your presence known. Tommy’s eyes flickered towards you, surprise momentarily crossing his face before it softened into something more understanding.

Joel noticed Tommy’s gaze shift and turned to see you standing there. His expression instantly softened, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes, as if he was concerned about what you might have overheard.

Tommy offered a small nod in your direction, a silent acknowledgment that you were part of this now, whether Joel fully accepted it or not. "I’ll give you two a moment," Tommy said, his tone gentle as he glanced back at Joel.

"Thanks," Joel muttered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Tommy patted Joel on the back before turning to leave. As he passed by you, he gave you a reassuring smile, one that carried the weight of unspoken support. Then, with a final glance at Joel, Tommy walked out, leaving the two of you alone.

The room was quiet now, the only sound being the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Joel’s gaze was heavy on you, filled with concern and an emotion you couldn’t quite place. He took a tentative step towards you, his hand reaching out as if he was unsure whether he should touch you.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice low and full of meaning.

"Hey," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel took another step closer, his fingers brushing against your arm. "You heard us, didn’t you?"

You nodded; your heart still heavy with everything you’d overheard. "Yeah, I did."

Joel let out a slow breath, his hand sliding down your arm to take your hand in his. "I didn’t want you to worry."

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to Joel, letting him wrap his arms around you. His embrace was warm, but the tension in the air was undeniable.

After a few moments, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a serious expression. “Joel,” you began, your voice quiet but firm, “where’s this cabin Tommy was talking about? Where did Lori go?”

Joel’s expression tightened, and he sighed heavily. “It’s an old place, just outside Jackson. We used to use it as a lookout spot, but it’s been abandoned for a while. Lori… she’s been staying there since she left.”

You nodded, processing the information. “Is she okay?”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, clearly conflicted. “Tommy saw her this morning. She’s alive. That’s what matters for now.”

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, a mix of guilt and concern churning inside you. “I feel like this is my fault,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel immediately shook his head, his grip on your arms tightening slightly. “Don’t you dare think that,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “Lori made her own choices. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. This isn’t on you.”

“But she’s out there, alone,” you argued, the worry evident in your tone.

Joel’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “You didn’t push her away. She wasn’t safe to be around, and you know that. We can’t save everyone, no matter how much we might want to.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, a mix of emotions he seemed to be wrestling with. He didn’t answer right away, as if he was carefully choosing his words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “Lori… she was important, yeah. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

You felt your heart tighten in your chest, but you held his gaze, needing to hear the rest.

“She was a part of my life, a part of my past,” Joel continued, his hands still gently holding your face. “But that’s what it is—my past. We went through things together, things that bonded us in a way, but it was never like this.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “What I feel for you… it’s different. It’s real, and it’s now.”

You searched his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity and something deeper—something that made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“Lori’s out there because of her choices, not because of anything you did,” Joel added, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a soothing motion. “And if she ever decides to come back, we’ll deal with it together. But right now, I’m here with you, and that’s what matters to me.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief mixed with lingering guilt. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason she’s hurting.”

Joel shook his head again, his expression firm. “You’re not. And you can’t carry that burden, okay? She left you out there to die.”

Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut, the reality of the situation sinking in even deeper. He wasn’t sugarcoating it—he was telling you the harsh truth you’d been trying to avoid. Lori had left you to fend for yourself and abandoned you in a way that had nearly cost you everything.

“She made her choices,” Joel continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And those choices weren’t about you—they were about her. She’s got her demons, her reasons, but that doesn’t excuse what she did. You did nothing wrong by protecting yourself.”

You looked down, the guilt still gnawing at you, but Joel’s hand moved to your chin, gently lifting your face so you had to meet his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering. “You’re here, with me, because you survived. Because you fought to live. Don’t let her take that away from you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Joel was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, his touch tender. “I know it’s hard,” he whispered. “I know it’s gonna take time to let go of the guilt. But you have to try, for your sake. For us.”

You nodded, feeling a little more of that heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Joel was right—you couldn’t let Lori’s choices define you or what you had now with him.

“I’m trying,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m really trying.”

Joel’s expression softened even more, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, as if sealing a promise. “That’s all I ask,” he murmured against your lips.

You kissed him back, but this time his lips didn’t taste to a sweet fruit you crave on summer but like the bitter liquor you drank after a hard day as it a sip could take your demons away.

Joel pulled back from the kiss, his gaze lingering on yours with a mix of concern and affection. He could sense the turmoil still brewing inside you, even as you tried to put on a brave face. He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair, clearly reluctant to leave you like this.

“I’ve got to head out for patrol,” he said, his voice laced with reluctance. “But please… don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” His eyes searched yours, silently pleading with you to stay safe, to not let your guilt drive you to something reckless.

You nodded, giving him a small, tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten.

Joel hesitated, as if debating whether to push further, but eventually, he nodded. “I’ll see you later,” he said softly, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he turned to leave.

You watched him go, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. As soon as the door closed behind him, you felt the quiet settle in, amplifying the thoughts swirling in your mind. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to do something—something more than just waiting and hoping things would get better.

Your mind kept drifting back to Lori. Despite everything Joel had said, the guilt gnawed at you, relentless and unyielding. She was out there, alone, and even though you knew she had made her choices, you couldn’t help but feel responsible.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. You needed to see her, to talk to her, to try and make things right in whatever way you could. Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was reckless, but you felt like it was something you had to do.

You couldn’t bear the thought of a woman out there alone, just as you were not long time ago. You didn’t want anyone to go through that pain.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess the decision, you got up and quickly changed into clothes more suitable for the cold outside. You grabbed your jacket, slipping it on as you glanced around your small home, making sure you had everything you needed.

You knew Joel would be furious if he found out what you were planning, but you couldn’t let that stop you. This was something you had to do, for your own peace of mind. You left the house, pulling the door shut behind you, and started making your way toward the outskirts of Jackson, where you knew the old cabin Lori had been staying in was located.

As you walked, the snow crunched beneath your boots, and the chill in the air seemed to match the cold knot of anxiety in your chest. You couldn’t predict how Lori would react to seeing you again, but you knew you had to try. You had to at least make the effort, even if it was dangerous, even if it meant facing whatever might come next on your own.

The journey to the old cabin where Lori was staying felt longer than it actually was. Every step you took was weighed down by the uncertainty of what awaited you. The cold bit at your skin, the wind whispering through the trees like a warning, but you pressed on, driven by a need to confront what had been gnawing at you since she left.

The cabin finally came into view, tucked away in a secluded area surrounded by thick trees. It looked as worn and isolated as you remembered, with smoke lazily curling from the chimney, indicating that someone was inside. You hesitated at the edge of the clearing, taking a moment to gather your thoughts and calm the racing of your heart.

With a deep breath, you moved forward, your footsteps careful and deliberate as you approached the door. You paused, hand hovering over the wooden surface, the reality of what you were about to do sinking in. But there was no turning back now. You had come this far, and you needed to see it through.

You knocked lightly, the sound echoing in the stillness. For a moment, there was no response, and you wondered if she was even there. But then, you heard movement from inside—a shuffling of feet, the creak of old floorboards—and the door slowly opened.

Lori stood in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw you. She looked different, more worn and tired than the last time you had seen her, but there was still a fierceness in her gaze, a hardness that hadn’t been there before. She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you as if trying to decide whether to slam the door in your face or let you in.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, her voice flat, but with an edge of suspicion.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “I came to talk,” you replied, forcing yourself to meet her gaze.

“Can I come in?”Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought she might refuse. But then, with a sigh, she stepped aside, allowing you to enter. The cabin was as sparse as you remembered, with only the bare essentials scattered around—a small table, a few chairs, a cot in the corner, and the fire crackling in the hearth. It was warm inside, but the tension between you made the air feel heavy.

Lori closed the door behind you, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall, watching you with a guarded expression. “Does Joel know you’re here?” she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

You shook your head. “No,” you admitted. “I came on my own.”

Lori raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of your motives. “Why? What do you want?”

“I want to talk,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervousness you felt. “I wanted to see if… if there’s any way, we can work this out.”

Lori’s expression hardened at your words, and she shook her head almost immediately. “I’m not going back,” she said firmly. “There’s nothing for me there.”

“Lori, please,” you implored, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can find a way to make it work. You don’t have to stay out here, isolated from everyone.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head again. “You think it’s that simple?

“I don’t think it’s simple,” you replied, your voice softening. “But I don’t think it’s impossible either. We’ve all made mistakes. We’ve all done things we regret. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep punishing yourself.”

Lori’s gaze softened for just a moment, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that same hard look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, turning away from you and staring into the fire.

“I know you’re hurting,” you said, taking another step closer. “I know you feel like you’ve lost everything. But running away won’t fix it. It won’t make the pain go away.”

Lori’s shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time since you arrived, she seemed to waver. She didn’t respond, just stood there, staring into the flames as if searching for answers in the flickering light.

“You don’t love him,” Lori said, her tone laced with bitterness. “I bet every time you see Joel, you wish he were the one you lost when this world went to shit.”

Her words hit you like a slap, the accusation stinging deep. You stood there, unable to respond immediately, the truth of her statement gnawing at you. Lori finally looked up; her eyes hard as they met yours.

“Am I wrong?” she pressed; her gaze unwavering.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but the guilt you had been carrying made it difficult. “It’s not like that,” you finally said, your voice shaky.

“Isn’t it?” Lori challenged, standing up and taking a step closer to you.

You felt your chest tighten, her words cutting deeper than you expected. “Lori, you don’t understand,” you started, but she cut you off.

“No, you don’t understand,” Lori spat, her voice rising. “You’re just using him to fill the void left by whoever you lost. You’re not in love with him—you’re in love with a memory.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the truth in her accusation tearing at you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t entirely true. Yes, you had lost someone, and yes, the pain of that loss was still with you. But what you felt for Joel was real.

She took a step closer, her eyes fierce and unyielding. “I know it because I had my Joel before,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. “I lost him when the outbreak happened, and I spent years crying over him, wishing he was still here.”

You could see the pain in her eyes, the same pain that had haunted you for so long. “And then Joel came along,” Lori went on, her voice now softer, tinged with regret. “I wanted Joel to be my lover because I felt broken, and he was the only one who made me feel whole again. But it wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to me.”

You felt a pang of empathy for Lori, understanding now that you weren’t the only one struggling with feelings of loss and confusion. But that didn’t make her words any easier to hear.

“Lori,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “I know what you’re saying. I know I’ve been holding on to the past, and maybe I haven’t been fair to Joel. But what I feel for him...I love him and he loves me.”

Lori's expression shifted, the hardness in her eyes softening ever so slightly. You could see the conflict within her, the struggle between the pain she carried and the understanding she was trying to find.

"The world is too shitty for us to be fighting over a man," you continued, your voice steadier now. “We’ve all lost so much, and I know you’re hurting too. But this... this isn’t worth tearing each other apart.”

Lori looked away, her gaze falling to the floor as she let out a long breath. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve been through too much to waste our energy on this.”

There was a long silence between you, the tension slowly ebbing away as the weight of your shared pain settled between you. Finally, Lori looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of resignation and acceptance.

“I just... I just wanted to feel like I mattered again,” she said, her voice breaking. “And Joel... he made me feel that way, even if it was just for a little while.”

You took a step closer, your heart aching for her. “You do matter, Lori. To Joel, to Jackson. But you can’t find your worth in someone else. You have to find it in yourself.”

Lori nodded slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know,” she whispered. “I know that now.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the cabin. It wasn’t forgiveness, not completely, but it was a step towards understanding—a fragile truce in a world that had taken so much from both of you.

“Come back to Jackson,” you said gently. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be alone.”

You looked at Lori, seeing the pain and confusion in her eyes. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the raw vulnerability she was trying to hide. Her question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what had happened between you.

“I know what you did,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the memories that threatened to surface. “And I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, or that I wasn’t scared. But I also know that this world has twisted all of us in ways we never could have imagined.”

Lori’s gaze dropped to the floor, shame and regret evident in her expression. You took a deep breath, knowing that what you were about to say would expose a part of yourself you usually kept hidden.

“I’m doing this because I don’t want to be the kind of person this world wants me to be. I don’t want to be consumed by hate, or let fear rule my decisions. And I don’t want you to be that person either. We’ve lost so much, Lori. But we don’t have to lose ourselves.”

She looked up at you, her eyes wide and searching, as if she was trying to understand why you would offer her this chance at redemption. “But how can you forgive me?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “After everything I did... how can you just let it go?”

“I’m not letting that go,” you replied, your voice soft but firm. “But we keep moving forward. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can choose what we do next. I’m choosing to believe that there’s still good in you, and that you deserve a chance to find it again.”

Lori blinked back tears, her tough exterior cracking just enough for you to see the pain and guilt she carried. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You can,” you assured her. “It won’t be easy, but you can. And you won’t have to do it alone. Come back to Jackson. We can figure it out together.”

Lori hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “And what about Joel?” she asked, her voice laced with fear. “What if he doesn’t want me back?”

“Joel’s angry,” you said honestly, “but he’s also someone who cares deeply about the people in his life. If you show him that you’re willing to change, I think he’ll find a way to understand. But you have to be willing to take that first step. Both of you will.” You paused, “Not romantically anymore, but as people living in the same place.”

Lori’s gaze lingered on you for a long moment, as if weighing your words. Finally, she nodded, a small, tentative movement that signaled her agreement. “I’ll try,” she whispered, her voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all anyone can ask,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Let’s go back to Jackson. Together.”

“They voted me out” she said.

Your smile faltered as Lori’s words sank in. The realization of what that meant hit you like a punch to the gut. Being voted out of Jackson was more than just being asked to leave—it was a declaration that the community no longer trusted you, no longer believed you were safe to have around.

“They… they really did that?” you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and sadness.

Lori nodded, her expression a mixture of bitterness and resignation. “Yeah. After what happened with you, and… everything else. They decided I wasn’t worth the risk.”

You could see the hurt in her eyes, the pain of being rejected by the only place that could offer any semblance of safety. And despite everything she had done, a part of you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“Lori, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, the weight of her situation pressing down on you. “But maybe… maybe we can talk to them. I can vouch for you. Tell them you’re willing to make things right.”

Lori shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s too late for that. Even if you could convince Joel, the rest of them won’t listen. They’ve made up their minds.”

You didn’t know what to say. The idea of leaving someone out there alone, especially someone who had been part of your community, felt wrong on every level. But you also knew how fragile trust was in this world, and how quickly it could be lost.

“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

“I don’t know,” Lori admitted, her shoulders slumping as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe find another group, if I can. Or just… survive on my own. It’s not like I have a lot of options.”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing for any solution that might keep Lori safe. "Come with me," you suggested, your voice urgent. "If they see us together, maybe it'll be different. Maybe they’ll understand, see that you’re willing to make things right."

Lori looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and doubt. For a moment, she seemed to consider it, her gaze flickering with a faint hope. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening as she looked away.

"No," she said firmly. "I can’t do that. If I come back with you, they’ll just see it as me hiding behind you. It’ll look like I’m trying to manipulate my way back in, and that’s not going to work. They’ll never trust me again, not unless I earn it on my own terms."

Her words stung because you knew she was right. Trust was fragile, especially in a world where survival depended on it. The community needed to see that she was willing to stand on her own, to prove herself without relying on someone else’s influence.

"But what if something happens to you out here?" you pressed, the thought of leaving her alone gnawing at you. "You’re safer in Jackson, with people who can help you."

Lori smiled sadly, a wistful look in her eyes. "I know the risks. But if I’m ever going to have a chance at getting back what I’ve lost, I have to do it my way. I’d rather have their approval than their pity."

You could see the determination in her eyes, the fierce independence that had kept her alive for so long. It was the same trait that made her both strong and dangerous, and you realized that there was nothing you could say to change her mind.

"Just… be careful, okay?" you said finally, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t want to see you get hurt."

"I will," Lori promised, her voice softening as she met your gaze. "And thank you, for coming out here. For trying."

You nodded, a heavy sense of resignation settling in your chest. There was nothing more you could do, no more words that could bridge the gap between the two of you. All you could do was hope that Lori would find her way, that she would survive long enough to prove herself.

With one last look at her, you turned and made your way back to Jackson, the weight of the conversation lingering heavily on your shoulders. You knew that this wasn’t the end, not for Lori, not for you. But for now, all you could do was return to the life you had built, even as the echoes of the past threatened to pull you back.

As you walked away, Lori stood at the entrance of the cabin, watching you go, her expression unreadable. The distance between you grew, both physical and emotional until she was just a figure in the distance, a reminder of the choices that had brought you both to this point.

You arrived back in Jackson, the familiar sight of the town coming into view as you crossed the threshold. It was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the day beginning to wind down as the sun dipped lower in the sky. But as you approached the center of town, you could hear raised voices—Joel's voice, loud and angry, cutting through the stillness.

Following the sound, you found Joel near the gates, his posture tense as he argued with a couple of men who had been on watch duty. His face was a mask of frustration and fury, his fists clenched at his sides as he spoke.

"What the hell were you thinking, letting her go out on her own?" Joel barked, his voice carrying an edge that sent a chill down your spine. "You know damn well how dangerous it is out there!"

One of the men, looking both intimidated and defensive, tried to respond. "We didn’t think she’d go far, Joel. She’s handled herself before—"

"That’s not the point!" Joel snapped, cutting him off. "It’s not about whether she can handle herself. It’s about the fact that you let her go out there alone without telling anyone!"

The other man, clearly trying to diffuse the situation, spoke up. "We’re sorry, Joel. We didn’t think—"

"No, you didn’t," Joel growled, his anger barely contained. "And if something had happened to her…"

The rest of his sentence trailed off as his gaze shifted, and he finally noticed you standing there. His eyes narrowed, but unlike usual, his expression didn’t soften. Instead, there was a mix of relief, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"Where the hell were you?" he demanded, his voice low and rough as he took a few steps toward you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the weight of his anger and concern made the words stick in your throat.

"I was…" you hesitated, knowing how furious he would be when he found out. "I went to see Lori."

Joel's eyes widened in shock, and then they darkened with anger. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he tried to process what you’d just said.

"You what?" he finally said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You went to see her? After everything that happened?"

You nodded, feeling small under the intensity of his gaze. "I had to. I needed to talk to her, to make sure she was okay. She’s out there, Joel, and she’s all alone."

Joel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was struggling to keep his anger in check. "And you thought it was a good idea to go out there by yourself? Without telling anyone?"

"I knew you’d try to stop me," you admitted, your voice wavering. "I thought if I went alone, I could handle it."

"Handle it?" Joel echoed, incredulous. "Do you have any idea how reckless that was? What if something had happened to you? What if she had—"

"She didn’t," you interrupted, your voice firmer now. "I’m fine, Joel. I’m here, and nothing happened."

"But it could have," Joel shot back, his voice thick with frustration. "You can’t just go off like that, not when there’s so much at stake."

You could see the fear behind his anger, the desperation in his eyes as he looked at you. He was scared, not just for you but for everything you represented in his life. And that fear was fueling his anger now, making him lash out because he didn’t know how else to deal with it.

"I’m sorry," you said softly, stepping closer to him. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I couldn’t leave things the way they were."

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension drained out of him. He looked at you, his expression torn between anger and something softer, something more vulnerable.

"I can’t lose you," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t, but you need to stop being an asshole to everyone” you said.

Joel blinked, taken aback by your bluntness. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly, clearly struggling with his emotions. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“I know I’ve been hard on everyone,” he admitted, his voice low. “But it’s just... I’ve been so damn scared of losing you, of losing anyone else. It’s like every time I think about what could happen, I—”

“—you push people away,” you finished for him, your tone gentle but firm. “But, Joel, you can’t protect everyone by building walls around yourself. You have to let people in, let them help you. We’re all in this together, whether you like it or not.”

“And you need to stop being weak” he said, as if he had found the words to get back at you for something.

The words cut deep, and you felt a surge of anger and hurt rise within you. You took a step back, your hands clenching into fists at your sides as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“Stop being weak?” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly. “Joel, I’m trying my best to handle everything that’s been thrown at me. I’m not perfect, but I’m not weak.”

"Being weak got your boyfriend killed, right?" Joel’s words echoed in your mind, the pain of them mingling with the pain of your past. It felt like a knife twisting deeper into a wound that had never fully healed.

“Don’t you dare use that against me,” you said, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and sadness. “I’ve been trying my hardest to move forward, to deal with everything that’s happened. You can’t just throw my past in my face like that.”

Joel’s face softened, his eyes wide with regret as he saw the effect of his words. He reached out as if to bridge the gap you’d created, but you took another step back, shaking your head.

“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t do that. You can’t keep using my pain to justify your own frustrations. We both have our struggles, and we both have to face them. But that doesn’t mean we get to hurt each other.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, his anger giving way to a weary sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Just stop,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are this how things are going to be between us?" You asked, no payback, just a tense voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked, regretting lacing on his voice.

"Every time I do something you don't like you will throw something at me?"

Joel looked away, his gaze shifting to the floor as if searching for the right words. The weight of your question seemed to hit him hard, and he struggled to meet your eyes again.

“No,” he finally said, his voice low. “That’s not what I want. I don’t want to hurt you. I just... I’m dealing with a lot, and sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But that’s no excuse for pushing you away or being unfair.”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the internal battle between his pain and his desire to make things right. It was clear he was struggling, and for a moment, you felt a pang of sympathy despite the hurt he’d caused.

“Then we need to figure out a way to communicate better,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “If we keep doing this, hurting each other, it’s never going to work. We need to be able to talk without tearing each other down.”

Joel nodded slowly, his expression softening. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. I just… I need to do better. For us.”

“Joel, I… I think we need to take a step back,” you began, your voice gentle but firm. “We can’t be together as a couple right now. Not until we’ve both done some healing—on our own.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and you could see the hurt flicker across his face. “What are you saying?” he asked quietly, his grip on your arms loosening.

“I’m saying that we’ve both been through so much, and we’re still carrying all that pain,” you explained. “It’s not fair to either of us to try to make this work when we’re still so broken inside. We’re just going to end up hurting each other more.”

Joel looked down; his jaw clenched tightly. He was silent for a moment, clearly struggling with your words.

Joel’s silence stretched, and you could see the emotions warring within him. Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of sadness and resignation.

“I get it,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I do. It’s just… hard to accept. I don’t want to lose you, but I understand if we need to take a step back.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “I don’t want to lose you either, Joel. That’s why we need to do this. We need to heal separately so we can be better for each other, if we decide to come back together.”

Joel sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll try to do better. For myself, for us. And… I’ll see the therapist. Maybe it’ll help.”

“I think it will,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s a good step. For both of us.”

Joel nodded, his expression softening a bit. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot. But just know… I care about you. A lot.”

“I care about you too,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “And that’s why we need to do this. We need to take care of ourselves first.”

With a final, heavy sigh, Joel gave you a small, bittersweet smile. “Alright. I’ll see you around then.”

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, and reached out to gently touch his face. His eyes met yours, filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Before either of you could say more, you leaned in and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips. It was a gentle, tender gesture, a promise that despite the distance you both needed, the feelings between you remained.

Joel’s eyes closed momentarily as he returned the kiss, his grip on your shoulders tightening just enough to convey his emotions. When you finally pulled away, you could see the depth of his feelings in his gaze—a silent acknowledgment that while things were changing, the connection between you was still strong.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “For understanding. For everything.”

You gave him a small, encouraging smile. “We’re both doing our best. That’s all we can ask of each other.”

Joel nodded, his expression softening with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I’ll see you around,” he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

With one last, lingering look, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with a heavy heart and a sense of resolve. You knew it would be hard, but you were hopeful that with time and effort, both of you could find the healing you needed.

When Joel woke up, the world seemed disjointed, fragmented. He was greeted with concerned faces, but the familiarity of their voices felt distant. As the days passed, it became clear that Joel had lost significant portions of his memory. He struggled to piece together the events leading up to the ambush, and his sense of self was clouded by confusion.

The emotional impact was profound. Joel had always been someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but now he found himself grappling with an added burden: the loss of his own past. He could remember fragments—snippets of conversations, fleeting images—but the continuity of his life felt like a puzzle with missing pieces.

In the midst of this struggle, Joel faced the raw, unfiltered emotions that had been buried under layers of anger and pain. Without the anchor of his memories, he found himself confronted with feelings he had tried to suppress or ignore. The realization of what he had lost, both in terms of his past and his relationship with you, hit him with an intensity that left him vulnerable and exposed.

The days were a whirlwind of emotions for Joel. He felt anger at his own helplessness, frustration at not being able to remember crucial parts of his life, and deep sadness for the connections that seemed to have slipped away from him. His interactions with you were strained. He knew you were important, but the specifics of why were obscured by the fog of his memory.

Joel’s struggle was evident in the way he reached out for fragments of normalcy. He would sit quietly in the corners of the community, trying to piece together his past by observing others. Conversations with you were tinged with an awkward formality, as if he were trying to bridge a gap that couldn’t be fully crossed.

As time went on, Joel began to lean on you more, searching for comfort in your presence. Your patience and support became a lifeline for him, a way to ground himself amidst the confusion. He struggled to reconcile the past he could no longer fully recall with the present he was living through.

You, too, found yourself grappling with the new reality. Seeing Joel in such a fragile state was heartbreaking. You wanted to help him, to be there for him, but the dynamics of your relationship had shifted. The boundaries you had set were still in place, but the lines between them were now blurred by Joel’s struggle and your own feelings of helplessness.

Despite the pain and frustration, there were moments of clarity and connection. The more Joel leaned on you, the more he began to remember the warmth of your presence, the comfort of your touch. Though the memories of your shared past were fragmented, the emotional bond between you was something that transcended the gaps in his recollection.

Joel’s journey through therapy was arduous. Each session was a test of patience and introspection, peeling back layers of his past and the wounds he had kept buried. The process was slow, and the progress often seemed incremental. He confronted painful memories and learned to navigate his emotions, guided by the therapist’s steady support.

Despite the difficulties, Joel showed up for each session, driven by a desire to heal and a growing understanding of the importance of addressing his issues. He learned to articulate his feelings and confront his fears. The therapy sessions began to shift something within him—a deeper recognition of his own vulnerabilities and a burgeoning sense of hope.

In the midst of this, Joel's thoughts frequently returned to Lori and you. He knew that if there was any chance of reconciliation or understanding, it had to start with bringing Lori back into the fold. His own healing process had taught him the value of second chances and the importance of confronting unresolved issues.

One crisp morning, after several weeks of therapy, Joel set out to find Lori. He had been keeping tabs on her location, and while he understood the risks, he was determined to make things right. When he finally located her, she was in a makeshift camp on the outskirts of a small, struggling community.

“Lori,” Joel said, his voice carrying concern as he approached her. “We need to talk.”

Lori looked up; her expression wary but curious. “Joel,” she said, her voice tinged with both surprise and apprehension. “What are you doing here?”

Joel took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been working on myself. Trying to make things right. And I think... I think it’s time for us to address what happened between us.”

Lori’s eyes softened slightly, though she remained guarded. “And what does that mean?”

“It means,” Joel said, taking a step closer, “that I want to try and bring you back to Jackson. There’s a chance for reconciliation, but it starts with making amends.”

Lori studied him for a long moment, the hesitation clear in her eyes. “Why would I go back there? They’ve already decided I’m not welcome.”

Joel nodded, understanding her reluctance. “They might have voted you out, but people change. And I think there’s a chance for you to make things right. I can vouch for you. I’ve been through a lot of my own healing, and I believe in second chances.” He paused “And I believe on her” he said, referring to you.

Lori’s gaze softened further, the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. “And what if they don’t want me back? What if they still see me as a threat?”

“We won’t know until we try,” Joel said firmly. “I believe in giving people a chance, and I’m willing to stand up for you.”

After a long pause, Lori finally nodded. “Alright. If you’re willing to vouch for me, I’ll give it a try.”

Joel offered a small, hopeful smile. “Okay. Let’s head back to Jackson.”

The journey back was quiet but filled with a tentative sense of hope. When they arrived, the tension was palpable. The community was wary, and the reception was far from warm. However, Joel’s presence and the commitment he showed in standing by Lori’s side made a difference.

Lori had to prove herself, and the community had to come to terms with her return. Not only because she was a threat to you in a moment. But the fact that she was given a chance was a testament to the power of redemption and the possibility of new beginnings.

Joel’s own healing continued as well, bolstered by his actions and the steps he took to make amends. His relationship with you remained on a path of gradual recovery. While there were still challenges to face, the progress made was a testament to the strength of the bonds that held the community together and the resilience of the individuals within it.

In the end, Joel’s journey was a reflection of the broader struggles and triumphs of a world striving to rebuild itself, one step at a time.

while you were in the infirmary tending to a few minor injuries and organizing supplies, Joel walked in with Lori at his side. The atmosphere was quiet, the usual hum of activity in the infirmary providing a backdrop to the scene.

You looked up from your work, your hands wiping off the last traces of blood from a bandage, and saw Joel approaching. A lump formed in your throat as you took in the sight of Lori walking behind him, her posture guarded but resolute.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism. “I brought Lori here for you to check on her. She’s been having some issues with her leg.”

You nodded, trying to mask your apprehension. “You’re back” you said, feeling a lump forming on your throat.

Lori nodded as she moved towards the examination table with a hesitant but determined stride. She glanced at you, her expression a mixture of anxiety and hope.

you greeted her softly, trying to sound as neutral as possible. “How’s it been? What happened to your leg?”

Lori took a deep breath, her voice steady despite the uncertainty. “It’s been a rough few days. Just a scrape that’s gotten worse.”

As you began to examine her leg, you noticed Joel standing nearby. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, anxiety mingled with a sense of unease as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Looks like it’s inflamed,” you said, carefully cleaning the wound. “I’ll need to get some antibiotics on it and make sure it doesn’t get any worse.”

“Thank you,” Lori said quietly, her eyes meeting yours. “I know it’s been complicated between us.”

You offered her a small, strained smile. “It’s okay. We all have our struggles. I’m just glad to see you making an effort.”

Joel watched the interaction closely, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. He understood the complexities of the situation and was grateful for the chance to make things right.

As you finished treating Lori’s leg, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of discomfort. The process of healing was never straightforward, and the emotional weight of the past few weeks lingered in the air.

“Thanks,” Lori said, standing up with a tentative smile. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Joel gave you a small, appreciative nod. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

You watched as Joel and Lori left the infirmary, a mix of emotions swirling within you. The path to reconciliation and healing was long and often challenging, but moments like these—where you faced the past and worked towards a better future—were steps in the right direction.

You hoped that in time, things would settle into a new normal. For now, you focused on the present, knowing that the journey of healing for everyone involved was far from over.

As you were lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear the steps approaching.

Joel walked back into the infirmary a few minutes after leaving with Lori. His demeanor was different now, less tentative and more determined. He approached with a sense of urgency, his expression revealing his frustration and a touch of exasperation.

You looked up from the stack of bandages you had been organizing, noticing the intensity in his gaze. The uncertainty and lingering doubts you had been grappling with seemed to settle around you, making your heart race a little faster.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice cutting through the quiet of the infirmary.

“Hey” you said, avoiding his gaze. “I see Lori is back” you added, not wanting to sound bitter because you weren’t. You could see everyone was trying to make better version of themselves.

Her, Joel and you.

There were broken versions hoping to be fixed.

Joel’s eyes followed your gaze to the door, still looking a bit out of place in the infirmary. He took a deep breath before speaking, clearly trying to manage his frustration.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone carrying a tint of relief and irritation. “She’s back. I know it’s been a lot to take in, and I get that you’re unsure- “

“I’m not.” You said, voice trembling even when you felt sure about your feelings towards Joel.

Joel's expression softened as he heard the tremble in your voice. He stepped closer, his frustration giving way to concern and understanding. “Then what is it?” he asked gently, searching your eyes for the answer. “You seem sad today.”

Joel’s frustration was evident as he took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone even. “I’m tired of this,” he began, his voice steady but laced with underlying frustration. “I’m tired of you doubting what we have, of you questioning whether or not it’s worth it. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to make things work.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, feeling the weight of his words. You had been struggling with your own fears and uncertainties, and it was clear that Joel’s patience was wearing thin.

“Joel, it’s not that I don’t care,” you said quietly. “It’s just—”

“Just what?” Joel interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “Just that you’re scared? I get it, I really do. But we can’t keep going in circles like this. I’m here, and I’m trying. But if you’re not on the same page, if you’re not willing to fight for us, then what are we even doing?”

His words hit hard, but they also struck a chord of truth. You had been hesitant, afraid of getting hurt again, and it was affecting your ability to fully commit to the relationship. Joel’s frustration was palpable, and you knew that this conversation was long overdue.

“What else I have to do to prove that you’re it for me?” he asked.

Joel’s question hung in the air, heavy with emotion. You could see the intensity in his eyes, the way his frustration was mixed with desperation. He had been fighting for you, for the relationship, and now he was asking for something in return—your commitment, your belief in what you two could be together.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I know you’ve been trying, Joel,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “And I see that. I see how much you care, how much you’re willing to do for us. But… it’s not just about proving something to me. It’s about proving it to yourself too.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, his gaze never leaving yours. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we both have our scars,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly. “And I’m scared, yes. But I think you’re scared too. Scared of getting hurt again, of losing someone else. And that’s why we keep going in circles, why it’s so hard to fully trust in this.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. You could see that he was listening, really listening, to what you were saying. He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and intense. Walking towards you, he cupped your face in his hands “I could hit my head a hundred times,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions, “and I would come back to you each time.”

You looked up at him, a mix of surprise and emotion swirling in your eyes. His words cut through the uncertainty you’d been feeling, touching on something deeper and more enduring than just the day-to-day struggles.

“Why?” you asked softly, searching his face for the meaning behind his declaration. “Why would you keep coming back?”

Joel’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Because you matter to me more than anything,” he said, his voice earnest. “I know we’ve got a lot to work through, and it’s not going to be easy. But every time I think of us, it’s like everything else falls away. It’s always you.”

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “And you?”

Joel nodded, a small, sincere smile on his lips. “And me. Even when things get tough, or when I mess up, it’s you I want to be with. It’s you I want to make things right with.”

The sincerity in his words struck a chord within you. You could see how deeply he cared, despite the flaws and the struggles that had come between you. It was a reminder that, despite the difficulties, there was something real and lasting between you.

“I’m willing to try,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but full of conviction.

Joel’s smile widened, a look of relief and affection shining in his eyes. “Deal,” he said softly, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

"How is therapy going?" you asked.

Joel shifted slightly in your embrace before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and hope. “It’s… it’s going. Not easy, but I’m trying to face things I’ve been avoiding for a long time.”

You nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. “That’s good to hear. It’s important to confront those things.”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, it’s more than just talking about it. It’s about figuring out how to move forward. I’m learning that it’s not just about fixing what’s broken, but understanding why it was broken in the first place.”

“Sounds like you’re making progress,” you said gently.

Joel’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “It is. And having support—like you—makes it a bit easier. I appreciate you being here, even when things get complicated.”

You gave him a warm smile.

Joel's gaze lingered on yours, a mix of determination and affection in his eyes. Without a word, he gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. The warmth of his touch conveyed everything he couldn’t put into words.

He leaned in, his lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and deliberate, a silent promise of his commitment and his feelings for you. The kiss was more than just an expression of love; it was an affirmation of the bond you both shared, a way of showing that despite the challenges, there was still something deeply real and enduring between you.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. “I just needed you to know that,” he said quietly. “You’re important to me, and I’m not giving up on us.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.

“Let me love you” he whispered on your lips.

When Joel whispered those words, so close that his breath mingled with yours, it sent a shiver down your spine. His vulnerability, laid bare in that simple plea, tugged at something deep inside you. For so long, you had both danced around your fears and uncertainties, but here he was, asking for a chance to break through all of that.

Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions—relief, love, and a lingering hint of that old fear. But as you looked into Joel’s eyes, filled with a hope that you hadn’t seen in him before, you felt something inside your shift.

You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and let your lips meet his in a gentle, lingering kiss.

rushed and desperate, as a silent promise between the two of you.

But then, you pulled back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and regain some sense of where you were. “We are in the infirmary, Joel,” you whispered against his lips, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your words were a gentle reminder of the boundaries you still needed to respect, even in the midst of everything you were feeling.

Joel let out a small, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to gather himself. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured, his voice laced with both amusement and a lingering desire. “But I needed some kisses from my favorite lady.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “Well, your favorite lady is very flattered,” you replied, your tone teasing as you brushed a hand through his hair. “But I think she might need to get back to work before someone walks in on us.”

Joel sighed dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get back to your work,” he said, though he didn’t make a move to step away just yet. Instead, he pressed one last, quick kiss to your lips, as if he couldn’t resist.

“See you later, then,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection and something deeper, something that spoke to the connection you were slowly rebuilding.

“Later,” you echoed, your smile lingering as he finally released you and took a step back, his eyes still warm with unspoken feelings.

As you returned to your work, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. The way he had kissed you, the way he had spoken to you—it was clear that he was committed to making things work between you two. And deep down, you knew that you were too. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but you were both willing to walk it together.

Time passed quickly as you immersed yourself in your tasks, trying to push away the thoughts of what had just transpired. But the memory of his touch, his words, lingered with you, making your heart ache in a bittersweet way.

Later, as the day began to wind down and the infirmary grew quieter, you found yourself thinking about what the evening might bring. Would Joel come by to see you again? Would you two have a chance to talk more, to start building something real and solid between you?

Just as you were finishing up for the day, you heard the door to the infirmary creak open. You turned, half-expecting it to be another patient or one of the other medics. But when you saw Joel standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft smile on his face, your heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Thought I’d come by and see if you needed anything.”

You smiled, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. “Hey yourself,” you replied, wiping your hands on your scrubs. “I was just finishing up.”

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good timing, then,” he said with a slight grin. “Mind if I walk you home?”

Your smile widened, and the idea of spending more time with him made your heart swell with affection. “I’d like that,” you said softly.

As you and Joel walked through the quiet streets of Jackson, the cool evening air wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. The sounds of the community winding down for the night were all around—distant chatter, the occasional clatter of dishes being put away, the soft hum of generators. It was a rare moment of peace in a world that had seen so much chaos.

Joel walked close beside you, his presence grounding and reassuring. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with words; the simple act of being together was enough. Yet, the unspoken connection between you was palpable, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had shared earlier and the emotions that had been laid bare.

As you approached your house, your home came into view. The warm glow of the lantern inside spilled out through the window, casting a welcoming light on the porch. You hesitated for a moment, not quite ready for the evening to end, and it seemed Joel felt the same.

He stopped a few steps away from the door, turning to face you fully. His expression was softer now, the earlier intensity replaced by a quiet tenderness that made your heart ache in the best possible way.

“I know things have been… complicated,” Joel began, his voice low and earnest. “But I meant what I said earlier. I’m not giving up on us. We’ve both been through hell, but I want to make this work. I want us to work.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, his words hitting you with a depth of sincerity that left you momentarily speechless. But you knew he was right—this was something worth fighting for, and you were ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

“I want that too, Joel,” you finally said, your voice soft but steady. “We’ve been through so much already. We can get through this too. Together.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you as your fingers intertwined.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, holding hands in the soft glow of the lantern light, the world around you fading into the background. It was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something new and uncertain, but also something beautiful.

Finally, Joel broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I… come in?”

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you considered the question.

With a small, hopeful smile, you nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Together, you walked up the steps and into the house, the door closing softly behind you. Inside, the room was warm and inviting, a small oasis in a world that had taken so much from both of you. As you stood there, taking in the familiarity of your surroundings, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Joel didn’t say anything as he gently pulled you into a kiss. Joel’s arms wrapped around you with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer as his lips met yours. The kiss was tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions that had been building between you—the longing, the pain, the hope. It was a moment of pure connection, where words weren’t necessary because everything you needed to say was conveyed in the way he held you, in the way his lips moved against yours.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the weight of the world outside fading away, leaving only the two of you in this quiet, stolen moment. Joel’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, anchoring you to him. The way he kissed you was both gentle and possessive, as if he were afraid to let go, as if he needed this as much as you did.

“Need to…” He whispered against your lips, sounding almost desperate, running his hands down your waist to your ass.

Your breath became heave, feeling his hands roaming all your body as if you were the most precious treasure for him. Joel started leaving small kisses on your neck, as his hand travelled down the curve of one of your hips, gripping your skin all over the material of your clothes. He whispered your name against your skin, leaving goosebumps traced on it.

Your arched your back, moaning his name, making Joel go crazy. He grabbed you by your hips, effortlessly lifting you up to sit on the edge of your table, with him standing between your spread legs. Kissing Joel for real felt like driving in a dead-end street, like crushing your bones against the waves of the sea just to be brought back to life. And he also felt like the sun at the end of summer burning deep down your legs being carried out by passion and desire.

A gasp escaped from your throat, Joel’s mouth moving over yours in slow motion, savoring the taste of your lips to never forget it again. Your kisses felt like eating the sweetest fruit in summer.

as your legs spread, giving him closer access to you. As the kiss deepened, the feeling wasn’t just magical, but it was hot, with his tongue against yours. There wasn’t a proper way to get closer, but you wanted him closer, you wanted to feel him on top of you.

Joel slowly detached his lips from yours, looking flustered at the intensity of the kiss you had just shared.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You quickly nodded, as you traced your hands on his hair down to his neck and rapidly connected your lips with him. This time it was even hotter, now there was desperation in the touch.

The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the sound of small whines slipping from your lips as he travelled his way down your neck with his lips, you felt like his own canvas being delicately traced by his lips brushing over your skin, planting tattooed kisses on his way.

He was capturing every second of this in his mind, the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin, and the sound falling out from your lips, as he didn't stop taking every visible inch of your skin in his mouth. Every touch sent shivers straight down where you wanted him the most.

A slow moan escaped from your lips as he hit the hot skin of your neck.

"Everything's f-" You shut him down by furiously attaching his lips back to yours. His hand left the back of your neck, traveling down your chest as he remembered how every inch of your body felt under his touch and he smiled against your lips. The ache between your tights intensified at that, all while his hand pushed under your skirt and brushed where you wanted to be touched the most.

"Oh" you breathed.

Joel stopped kissing you for a moment to look at you, and he had a small smirk on his lips because he knew what he was doing. Leading not only by the desire but because of the mixed feelings he had for you.

And at that moment, breathing heavily against each other's faces, he kissed you again, and this time he went for it. He grabbed your bottom lip between his teeth as his hand rose higher on your tight.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer in a quick motion, your hand on your back holding your tight. You fell against his chest, falling apart under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed against you with a crazy need.

Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears when he kept caressing every inch of you, making you spin. His palm smoothed over the curve of your waist down to your bum and gripped it tightly, moving you even closer to him.

You let out a whine at that, and one your legs was pulling him on hold, kissing down his neck. You could feel him clenching under you.

He let out a groan, while you moved your hand along his chest down to his jeans, his own hand leaving your body to grasp your hold against him. He groaned low against you.

He stopped kissing you to meet your eyes briefly.

“I want you,” he said, capturing your lips as his teeth grabbed your bottom lip and his hand cupped the side of your face.

“You can have me” you whispered, resting your forehead on his.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse, your hands working on his jeans, and planted kisses on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between you two, as you wrapped your hand around him.

His hands on your hips to hold you right there. The air in your lungs was trapped in a bubble of incredible pleasure, but it still found a way to escape in rushed moans against his mouth as you both kept devouring each other.

He groaned against your mouth, lips parting, unable to utter other things instead of whimpers that drove you absolutely crazy.

Your whimper got stuck on your throat when you felt his finger pushing through your hot entrance. You were already soaked and Joel lost his mind at the feeling of you squeezing around his finger. He attached his lips once again, drinking your moans as he started pumping his fingers, slowly then building up the pace. Your lips attached to his neck, leaving traces of your kissed on his skin, claiming him, possessive and graceful.

"Fuck….Bedroom," you whispered softly, not breaking the kiss.

Once you stepped in your room, you were lying on your back with him on top, taking your lips back to his again.

You placed your arms around his neck and opened your legs so he could go closer to you, moaning at the sensation of him against where you wanted him most.

You kept your lips attached as he ground his hips against yours, sending electricity running through your body. He groaned into the skin of your neck, yanking his jeans and underwear off. Your gentle grasp on him caused him to whimper.

He drew you closer to him by your hips as you continued to devour one other, you couldn't stop the joy and the dazzling fireworks traveling up to your lower stomach were stronger than your thoughts. You were utterly out of breath, and you wanted him so bad it ached that you felt your lungs would catch fire.

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

He paused kissing you and spreading kisses on your chest for a moment to gaze at your parted lips and your chest rising and falling as a result of him, and he couldn't lie, he felt proud of his lasting control over you.

"Are you going to f-"

You couldn't finish before he snatched your lips back, dragging you around his waist and grinding himself against you, making you moan against his lips. With such want, you could feel the aching growing up between your tights.

"Don’t be a brat” he huskily whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Before you could fire your retort, his fingers teasingly caressed your core. He seemed to be having a good time and enjoying every second of you squirming under him. Your head fell back to the bed, a gentle but irritated murmur from your lips. When he saw your reaction, he smiled, and you felt the delicate touch of his fingers stroking across your core.

"Oh," you whimpered, out of breath.

His soft lips caressed every single area of your skin on your chest, just over your red bra, with an agonizing slowness that made you insane and roll your eyes of pure pleasure. The one he unhooked with one hand so swiftly you gasped, a sound drowned out by the sensation of his lips over your nipples while he continued to pound on you at your core.

He greets you with a laugh, his cheeks exposing his dimples, and his eyes shining at the sight of you.

"Joel, please…" you grumbled.

He sucked on a nipple, causing your back to arch as he gripped your hips to the bed before meeting your eyes, absorbing every inch of your face lost in the joy of the moment, stroking your checks with his thumb.

You gripped the gem of his t-shirt to remove it, leaving no barrier between the two of you.

He moved between your tights, spreading them apart once more, and welcomed himself into you. You hadn't had him since that night when you confessed to him, and he felt even bigger than you remembered, and you both gasped when he began thrusting inside. He pushed his forehead against your neck, kissing you softly over the skin.

"You're beautiful like this," he said into your ear, "God I could just-"

He could complete it since he focused solely on making you pleased picking up his pace and thrusting quicker. He was completely inside you, feeling like he was breaking down your defenses as he pushed it on and on. You were out of breath, and all the air in your lungs didn't feel quite enough. You bucked your hips, allowing him to move even more quickly. And that's exactly what he did, giving you everything you asked for.

As your nails left red lines on his naked back and he thrust his hips harder into you, you could feel the heat spreading all over your body, like diesel meeting fire, causing an imminent explosion.

You struggled to breathe, but it didn't matter since the surge of ectasis he gave you was enough to make you feel alive. His finger traced the patterns over you, leaving hot flames all over your skin, and you clutched him, trying to appreciate this closeness before it was ripped away.

And he continued to rock into you. The sounds you both produced were completely hot, forcing your blood to rush into your checks as you continued to toss your head back to give him permission to mark the skin of your neck.

"Fuck me…" you said in ecstasy,

"I’m doing it" he retorted.

You grasped for his hair to hold him tight against your lips, kissing the warm skin under his ear as if you wanted him to hear you, panting for air, feeling your climax come so close that you trembled against his body. Not long after, your world spun around you, and you tightened your grip on his waist, feeling the release as you cursed in his ear, forcing him to release after you. His push grew sloppy, sending small sparks up your tights, till he came to a halt and you saw a delicious sight.

He kissed your temple for a few seconds longer, enjoying the sweat drips on your skin. Finally, you looked into his eyes. His brow eyes' delicate brightness sent thrills down your spine, leaving you with a lump in your throat.

Joel chuckled as he caressed your warm face, his touch on your skin radiating affection. All of the tension and resentment that led you to have sex before disappeared into the void.

"You can stay with me," you whispered as leaned in, his lips brushing against your brow. “You're exactly where you should be."

The next day, you and Joel were assigned to patrol together, as usual. The morning air was crisp, the kind that stung your cheeks but made you feel alive. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden hue over the frost-covered ground. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine settling between you.

As you reached the outskirts of Jackson, Joel suddenly veered off the usual path. You followed him, curiosity piqued, until you realized where he was leading you. Your steps faltered slightly when you saw the familiar spot—where you had buried your boyfriend, the place where you had said your final goodbye.

Joel paused a few steps ahead, turning to look at you. His expression was serious, yet there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I know this is hard,” he said quietly, “but there’s something I need to do. Something I need to say.”

You nodded, unable to speak as the weight of the moment settled over you. Joel took a deep breath and stepped closer to the simple marker that marked your boyfriend’s resting place. He knelt down, his hand resting on the earth as if he were speaking directly to the man buried beneath it.

“I know you were everything to her,” Joel began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And I know I’m not trying to replace you. But I care about her. I want to be there for her, protect her, and make her happy. I just… I need your permission to do that.”

The sincerity in Joel’s voice made your chest tighten, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You had never imagined a moment like this—Joel, who was usually so guarded, so tough, asking for the blessing of a man he’d never met, all for you.

“I know I wasn’t very gentle to her at the beginning but now she is everything for me, and I promise you that I will live every day of my life for her.”

“I know I wasn’t very gentle to her at the beginning,” Joel continued, his voice thick with regret. “But she’s everything to me now. And I promise you that I will live every day of my life for her. I’ll protect her, cherish her, and give her the kind of love she deserves. I swear it.”

You watched as Joel’s hand lingered on the ground, his thumb tracing small circles over the earth as if sealing his vow. The sight of him, this strong, stoic man who had been through so much, baring his soul in front of your boyfriend’s grave, made your tears fall freely.

Joel stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he was giving the moment the gravity it deserved. When he turned to face you, there was a determination in his eyes, but also a softness—a quiet understanding that this wasn’t just about him, but about the both of you moving forward together.

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “I hope that’s enough,” he said quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “I hope I’m enough.”

You took his hand, pressing it against your cheek, feeling the warmth of his touch soothe the ache in your chest. “You are, Joel,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You are more than enough.”

With those words, something shifted between you—something deeper, more profound than before. It was as if, in that moment, you were finally laying to rest the ghosts of your past, giving yourself permission to embrace the future you wanted with Joel.

Joel leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and then to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a promise that went beyond words. It was a kiss that spoke of new beginnings, of hope, and of a love that was both fragile and unbreakable.

“I lost my mind for you,” he repeated, his gaze intense and unwavering. “And I would always go back to that just to love you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumb brushing gently across his cheek. “And I would choose you every time,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “Through everything.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he pulled you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes. You stood there, holding each other, finding solace in the shared silence and the comfort of each other’s presence.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the landscape, you both knew that while the world outside was still harsh and unforgiving, within the space you created together, there was a sanctuary, a place where love, even in its most fragile form, could flourish and grow.

I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.

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