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wintrwinchestr · 7 months ago

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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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wongyuseokie · 5 months ago

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Teardrops On My Guitar | h.j.s

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend. While he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than that. Since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you only question for how long? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 19,760 words

Pairings: Joshua Hong x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will)

Content Warnings: Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (let's lift each other up). Slut-shaming. Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is a letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then.

Author’s Note 2: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. Authors Note 3: Thank you so much to the following people for reading this for me @shuadotcom @gyuwoncheol @okiedokrie @wonuvs

High school sucked. It was a universal truth.

But you felt like some days it sucked for you more than it did for others. You felt awkward, you didn’t make friends easily – if ever. You basically had just two friends, while every morning on the school bus, you’d hear chatter about someone getting drunk or kissing someone at a party.

You would have to take a deep breath and pretend you didn’t care. But you didn’t even have enough friends to hold a party, let alone be invited to one. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time you partied.

You even celebrated your birthday with your parents last year, entering the fifteenth year of your life in your bedroom, watching movies and spending time with your parents. And you didn’t really mind it. You just wished you had someone who wanted to spend time with you.

The worst thing was hearing about other girls your age having lavish birthdays, having their first kiss, and whatnot made you realise that you had no experience of any of that. This sucked completely,considering that everything felt like a competition in high school.

Who could get their first kiss before anyone else? Who could lose their virginity first? Forget virginity; you had never even kissed a guy. A proper kiss. Not a stupid peck, but an adequate kiss – one of those you saw in movies.

You were convinced that the only way you’d ever get your first kiss would be if you were granted a magical makeover where the universe would give you a new face, a slimmer body, and more proportionate features.

Your mother said you were pretty, but what mother wouldn’t? Some stupid boys in your high school took it upon themselves to tell you throughout your entire middle school years how undesirable you were. They would pretend that their eyes burnt if they saw you and they acted like you were Medusa. In some ways, you could relate. You, too, felt like you had a curse that wasn’t your fault either. You tried all the beauty hacks, scrubbing your face with homemade sugar scrubs and buying concealers that were too light to wear, all because you just wanted to be pretty.

Feel a little worthy.

Now that you were older, you knew their hurtful words were untrue. And no, you didn’t suddenly have an epiphany and start believing you were a beauty queen, but you knew not to take such awful comments to heart. Yet, you couldn’t help how they’d sometimes seep into your mind.

However, as you stood outside your dorm room as a fresher at university, you couldn’t help but wish this was your chance to begin again. You had a new start; no one here knew you from high school; you weren’t back in your small town; you were in the city. You could start over.

Your bullies, past, and insecurities didn’t follow you here, so maybe this would be the time you’d finally be able to restart. Get a new lease on life.

“Oof, sorry,” a voice apologised as its owner bumped into you, making you look up from the floor. You were met with dark brown eyes filled with kindness, compassion, and, at this moment, regret for bumping into you.

You looked away from the stranger’s eyes to take him in. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, with a giant grin adorning his handsome face, and you immediately felt like you were thrown back into high school. Guys like him would either mock your appearance or ignore you, pretend you were a wallflower.

Girls like you didn’t get guys like him.

You immediately looked to the ground and mumbled an apology.

“Hey, what are you apologising for? I bumped into you, and I bumped into my flatmate. Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua!” The handsome man introduced himself, holding his hand to you, and you accepted it gingerly as you shook it.

“What’s your name?” Joshua asked.

“Y/N,” you replied.

“Well, I’m excited for fresher’s week! I think it’s so cool that we get to live in co-ed living spaces and get to be adults. I’m also glad that our rooms both have an ensuite, thank fuck. Not the biggest fan of sharing bathrooms,” Joshua rambled, then laughed when he saw your confused expression.

“Sorry, oversharing with my neighbour within a second of bumping into you isn’t the best first impression, is it?” Joshua joked, and you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“Okay, well, I got to finish moving in, but will you be coming across the hall for the freshers’ party? I have a couple of friends I’m going with, but I’d love for you to join us! Unless you already have plans?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, stunned. Was this reality?

Someone willingly invited you somewhere, not out of force or school obligation but because they wanted to ask you.

“I’d like that,” you finally answered, making Joshua smile.

“Well, Y/N, apparently freshers have been told to wear comfy footwear, whatever that means, but how about I knock at your door at nine, and we can leave together?” Joshua offered, and you nodded as you hurried back into your room, slamming the door behind you.

You were beyond confused. You had plenty of outfits to choose from, but the one time you wore a skirt to your high school disco, you heard a few comments calling you a try-hard and an attention seeker, so you went home and threw the skirt into the back of your closet never to be seen again. And now, that skirt was in your hands again, reminding you of crappy memories and the fact it was impractical as it had no pockets.

You decided to wear jeans instead. Jeans were a safe option. You chose a black, strappy top with some sequins and threw on a black leather jacket.

The outfit was inspired by several hours of Pinterest-related shopping you did before arriving at university. You wanted a fresh start, which also meant fresh outfits. You wanted everything to be new.

You grabbed your white striped Converse and put them outside, on the floor next to the foot of your university bed, a modest single. You also decided to shower, shave and exfoliate. You didn’t think Joshua would find you remotely attractive, but you wanted to at least feel somewhat pretty.

A couple of hours later, you were putting on your silver hoops when you heard a knock on your door.

“It’s open,” you said and smiled at Joshua as he walked into your room in tight-fitted jeans and a loose black tee tucked in and completed with a black belt.

“You look nice,” Joshua complimented.

You hissed as you poked your ear with your earring at his compliment. “Ouch!” you yelped.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he approached you, taking the earring out of your hand and helping you to put it on. “Did I startle you or something?” he asked, his voice too close to you, breath fanning over your neck.

“I just… I don’t get compliments, so yeah, I guess you did,” you admitted, feeling stupid for admitting something like that to a perfect stranger. He would probably think you were weird now and walk away.

“Well, that’s a shame. You deserve plenty,” Joshua said genuinely as he squeezed your shoulder, smiling widely at you.

And for the first time in so long, you felt like there was hope for your heart, and for you to find and experience everything you never got to in high school.

The void in your heart… maybe Joshua could be one who could fill it.

“Oh, Y/N, by the way! They’re having a flat party. Everyone said that the freshers’ party is usually kind of boring and that nothing much happens. They were talking about things like safe sex, and I’m sure we’re all tired of that conversation from high school,” Joshua joked as you two walked out of your shared dorm and across the hall where you stood as he informed you of the flat party.

“How many people will be there, though?” you asked, feeling insecurity and fear flood your system. You didn’t want a ton of eyes on you in your outfit. You didn’t want to hear the whispers that would inevitably make you curl up and cry into your pillow all night.

“I think twenty, give or take. It’ll be our flat and the one across ours,” Joshua replied, and you pondered over the thought of meeting nineteen new people – people who could judge, mock and make fun of you.

“Hey, you’re my next-door neighbour—well, our doors are opposite one another—you are now my friend, and I’ll keep you protected. If anyone tries shit, I’ll smack them,” Joshua vowed, making you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling as he watched you giggle.

“I just tried to imagine you even trying to beat someone up,” you replied, wiping the tears of laughter that collected in your eyes, making Joshua laugh at you.

“Oh, but I am fiercely loyal. Trust me, when it comes to protecting those I care about, I’ll fight,” Joshua said seriously.

You nodded, following him across the hall to the other flat as you two walked into the kitchen, where drinks were being poured, and you could tell several people were already quite drunk. You swore you saw a couple exchange a few kisses.

“Hi, we’re from flat 2A! Our flatmates told us about the party!” Joshua introduced himself, and one of the guys, who introduced himself as Jeonghan, approached you and Joshua.

“Well, 2A, welcome to flat 2B! We do have alcohol to spare, but if you want more, you’ll have to bring your own,” Jeonghan explained, the smile never leaving his face, and Joshua nodded as he brandished a bottle of soju from his coat pocket.

“I’ve got us sorted,” Joshua grinned, and Jeonghan smiled again as he welcomed you two.

“Y/N, have a seat next to me. We 2A’s need to stick together,” Joshua joked as he guided you to the black couches, where he helped introduce you to the other students. You exchanged several words with Nia and felt she could be a good friend. She had kind eyes and a soft smile, something you were never used to ever seeing.

“Alright, I’m bored. Can we play a drinking game? It’s the easiest way to get to know one another,” another girl, whose name you couldn’t recall, complained, immediately grinning when everyone agreed.

You could see she had no actual malice. She just wanted to party. Not everyone you’d meet in life would be your high school bully. This was something you’d have to remind yourself of during every interaction.

“Okay, what do you want to play, Nia?” Jeonghan asked as he joined her.

“Truth or dare! But take a shot if you want to skip the dare or truth?” Nia suggested.

Everyone nodded–including you, even if your heart beat wildly in your chest. What if someone asked you something like if you were a virgin? You’d lie, but the stammering would give it away. Then again, you had been a wallflower all your life. No one would ever pick you, you convinced yourself as you took a large sip of Jeonghan’s concoction.

It tasted more like he poured pure alcohol in and sprinkled in some diet coke to mask the fact he did not know how to mix a damn drink, but it was a drink you were thankful for. It gave you a nice buzz, lowering your inhibitions and fears.

“Okay,” Jeonghan said after three rounds. Everyone had a pretty good buzz, and the questions and dares were getting more unfiltered and scandalous with each game. “Joshua, I dare you to give Y/N a peck on the lips,” Jeonghan said smugly, making you gulp and swallow the remainder of your drink.

As you sighed, you didn’t think the party would come to this, but you realised you were fooling yourself. People would always care about this, and you didn’t fancy being a laughingstock.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. Joshua stood up, shooting Jeonghan a slight glare.

“I just, uh, want to go to bed; you know the alcohol has hit me,” you mumbled quickly as you nearly ran out of the flat and straight back to yours. You rushed into your room, taking a seat on your bed as you took deep breaths.

It was okay; he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and you’d avoid it if needed.

“You should lock your door, you know,” Joshua’s voice startled you as you stood up from your bed at his sudden presence.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, and you nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run.

Then again, there was that large window… But if you leapt out of it, you’d fall into a bush of poison ivy, so you decided to take the scarier option of engaging in conversation.

“I’m sorry if Jeonghan went too far with that dare,” Joshua apologised as he sat down on your bed, and you sighed, shaking your head, joining him.

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to make you feel repulsed by doing something you didn’t want to do,” you admitted.

Joshua turned to face you. “That’s the last thing I’d feel if I kissed you. You’re so beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to kiss you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, causing him to smile softly at you.

“May I?” Joshua asked, and your breath hitched, knowing what he meant, “not because I feel obliged, but because I want to,” he added, and you finally nodded, making him smile as he moved closer to place his soft lips on yours.

You didn’t know what to do, so you followed his movements, the way he moved his mouth ever so slowly against yours. He was kissing you like you were made of glass, and it made you feel like you were a crystal sculpture.

Fragile yet beautiful, his kiss made you feel worthy. Joshua smiled as he pulled away.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“Wow?” he asked, and you nodded.

“I’ve never had a kiss like this, just a stupid peck. But this one felt like a real kiss, so yeah… this one felt nice,” you admitted as Joshua nodded. “Sorry if I didn’t know what I was doing or it sucked, though, I just—oomph,” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they pressed against yours again.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he pulled away slowly. “You were fine,” Joshua clarified, and you nodded at him. “Look, the party isn’t over, and more people have joined. I think they’re playing music, and they’ve dimmed the lights, so if you want, we can go back?” he offered, smiling at you.

You hesitated.

“Or I can grab another bottle of soju, and we can put a movie on? Or I can leave you alone?” Joshua offered.

You smiled at him. “How about a movie?” you chose.

Joshua nodded with a grin. “Be right back! Let me go get the bottle of soju from my room. You pick the movie, but nothing horror,” he added as he left your room.

You smiled in his wake.

This was your new beginning. You could start afresh.

Two weeks in, lectures had started. Joshua had become your partner in crime, your closest friend. You had also grown closer to Jeonghan and Nia; they had become part of your little friendship group, and you felt wanted and included for the first time.

You felt needed, seen, and appreciated. It was everything you ever wanted.

“Yo!” Joshua yelled, barging into your room one evening while you were reviewing your lecture material for the following day.

“Do you bother knocking anymore?” You chuckled, shaking your head as Joshua got comfortable on your bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down.

“No. Friends don’t bother with formalities,” he told you smugly, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Jeonghan wanted to go to a social?” you asked him.

“Yes, but apparently, Jeonghan and Nia decided to go on a date or something, I don’t know,” he mumbled, making your eyes widen.

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed, and Joshua shrugged.

“I don’t know. Nia didn’t give me a straight answer, just kept blushing, and Jeonghan just smirked,” he answered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the floor.

“Shua, are you planning on crashing or something?” you asked, putting your pen down and turning to face him, and he grinned at you.

“Come on, it’s movie night,” Joshua whined playfully, making you smile.

“Oh, shut up, you’re only here because Jeonghan ditched your ass, and I’m the second choice,” you joked, but you couldn’t help the thread of insecurity that weaved its way into you.

“See, normally, I’d let that slide, but I know you might take that to heart. Hey, I live across the hall from you, and you’re one of my closest friends here, okay? I don’t want you ever to think that you’re my second choice,” he assured you softly as he got up to wrap his arms around you.

That was a new thing you got used to: Joshua’s extreme affection - his need to touch and feel loved through the act of touch. It was new to you, but you weren’t entirely mad either. It felt nice being wanted and being a source of comfort to him.

“Now, stop doodling flowers on your lecture notes and join me. I want to watch something,” he teased, and you nodded, smiling shyly as you saw the flowers etched into your work.

“Shall we do a Pixar night?” He then suggested.

“Always,” you smiled, nodding as you joined him on the bed.

As you sat down, Joshua immediately pulled you to his side. Soon enough, he was curled into you as he held you during the movie, either babbling nonsense or pointing out things you never knew existed in the film. You loved that about him, you thought to yourself. You loved his ability to see the beauty in everything.

You paused as you stared blankly at the screen.

Was that it? Did you love him?

Were you falling for your best friend?

The man who took you seriously for once and made you feel seen, were you falling in love with him?

You knew you were falling for the man who could see the beauty in everything.

You wondered hard that night… would he be able to see the beauty in you?

“So, how was your date with Jeonghan then?” you asked Nia, who had just sat across you with her breakfast.

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a date. I needed to talk to Jeonghan, that’s all,” Nia explained, and you nodded at her.

“You two would make a cute couple, though?” You joked, earning a scoff from Nia.

“What would you know about relationships? Aren’t you forever single or something?” she snapped at you out of nowhere, making you feel like all your progress with your friends over the past month crumbled in a second.

“I…” You opened your mouth to defend yourself until you realised Nia was right. You were no one to give anyone any relationship advice.

“That’s what I thought. So keep your comments to yourself. Just because you kissed Joshua once does not mean you know a thing,” she added unnecessarily, her words pouring more salt into the wounds you kept so hard to keep closed.

Why did Nia know that Joshua had kissed you? And why was she using it as an insult? Did she find it laughable, or did Joshua embellish the story and tell them that he only ever kissed you because you were like a wounded puppy, and he felt sorry for you?

“I need to go,” you mumbled before speeding away, feeling nauseous as you returned to the dorms.

Would Joshua ever hurt you like that? You didn’t think so, but guys like him were never meant to be with girls like you.

“Yo, what’s up?”

You heard Joshua’s voice as you walked into the standard room, and instead of reacting like you usually did, you ducked out of the room and ran to your own. Just as you were about to close the door, Joshua’s large hand pushed between the space and wedged himself into your room.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked.

You sighed, not realising that the tears had fallen down your face. “Nothing,” you mumbled weakly, earning an eye roll from Joshua as he grabbed your books out of your hands and placed them on your desk.

He then held your hand as he walked you to your bed and sat you down. “What happened? I know something did. I’ve seen your happy tears, and these aren’t them. What’s wrong?” he repeated, his hands moving to cup your face.

“Fuck, Shua! How did Nia know about us kissing that night?” you burst out, making Joshua frown.

“Fuck, I was talking to Jeonghan. I didn’t think he’d blab to her. Why, what did she do?” he asked.

“I just… I was teasing her about Jeonghan and her going on a date, and she got annoyed. So I thought to diffuse the tension, I’d joke and say that she and Jeonghan would make a cute couple. She lashed out at that. She asked me what I would ever know about relationships, as I’m a forever single girl. Then, when I couldn’t say anything, she said, “Just because I kissed you, I shouldn’t assume that I know anything,” you admitted, feeling more tears falling down your face as you recalled the comments.

“What the fuck? Why would she say that? Listen, you can always give relationship advice without being in one, okay? I’ll find out what’s wrong with her, but what she said is so beyond fucked up,” Joshua snarled. You could tell he was angry.

“That’s not necessary, Shua. But… I want to know why Jeonghan even knew about the kiss,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry. We were just chatting, and it slipped,” he apologised.

“Well, you should be more careful. It’s not fucking okay to do that,” you muttered.

Joshua’s eyes widened at your tone. “Why? Is it embarrassing to kiss me?” he accused, and you stared at him in shock.

“Oh, don’t even go there. You know I’m the one people laugh at and look at funny. The one everyone knows got a pity invite. And now they all probably think that you kissed me out of pity, too, and now they’re laughing at me!” you ranted, making Joshua scoff at you.

“I don’t know that much. You don’t let me in about a lot in your personal life or your past, but no one pities you here. No one thinks that—only you do,” Joshua commented, making you feel small.

“We all have a past, and I’m not trying to fucking invalidate yours, but you need to get over whatever happened to you in high school. This is a fresh start, so instead of victimising yourself every chance you get, maybe get out of that self-pity bubble you’ve trapped yourself in and realise that people might give a fuck about you! But if you keep wallowing and crying over stupid shit like this, then no one will want to be your friend for real,” he huffed out.

When you didn’t speak, Joshua looked up to see how you looked even more devastated than when you came in initially crying over Nia’s comments; he had made you cry more.

“Y/N—” Joshua started to say, but you shook your head at him.

“You’re right. I’m being a pain in the ass,” you mumbled, making Joshua groan.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, but if that’s how you keep taking it, then sure, you might as well be,” he added, and you nodded.

“Can you leave? I have an assignment due tomorrow,” you mumbled, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, turning your back to Joshua, making it clear you wanted to be left alone.

Joshua felt like a complete moron. He knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t like how you spoke in riddles. He didn’t like that. He wanted proper sentences, and you gave him emotion but no real problem.

Joshua tossed and turned in his bed that night. What was your past? Why were you always suspicious of anyone who wanted to be your friend? Why were you always so guarded?

He didn’t bother taking the time to look at the clock. Instead, he jumped out of bed and out of his room across the hall and pounded on your door until you opened it, glaring at him.

“You could have woken up the entire fucking flat,” you hissed as you let him in.

“Tell me,” Joshua breathed out, and you stared at him, confused.

“Tell you what?” you asked.

“What happened in your past?” He asked as he sat on your bed, immediately getting comfortable under your blanket.

“Didn’t you, just like, a few hours ago, oh, I don’t know, tell me to not wallow in my sadness and that I should get over it?” you mocked.

Joshua sank, shaking his head for a second and holding his hand to you. “Sit. Tell me. Look, I was careless with my words. I just wanted you to stop feeling terrible. But instead of saying that or taking measures to ensure that, I lashed out. I don’t like seeing people sad, but I can be quite clueless when helping them out,” Joshua admitted. You nodded, sitting on the bed but not taking his hand to make a point.

“I don’t know what it was about me, whether it was my hair, skin or whatever… Maybe I had a goofy smile? And I guess no one liked that? Maybe? I don’t know. All I know is that the kids in my school suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth being friends with,” you started out, struggling to keep your voice steady as you recalled your painful memories, opening old wounds that you had only wrapped in gauze, never adequately healing them.

“All these students… they would never include me in games or let me sit at their table during lunch, so I’d play alone, eat alone. And then, one year, a group of guys thought it’d be great to act like I was so hideous that they’d cover their eyes for fear of being burned by my ugly face or something,” you mumbled.

You noticed Joshua’s jaw clench out of the corner of your eyes.

“That went on for a year, the calling me ugly things, but the general feeling and act of being excluded from everything happened and continued until the last day of school. If I’m being honest, everyone just acted as if I inconvenienced them, so I carry that, Shua. I assume I’m always a burden no matter where I go.”

“I fucking hate that, but, and I ask this not to blame you, but out of genuine curiosity and concern, did no one know?” Joshua asked.

You sighed.

“Teachers weren’t blind. They knew, but if no one was physically attacking me, they kept their mouths shut. I told a counsellor, and her advice to me was that I should seek compassion for those who bully me because they’re probably victims of bullying themselves,” you scoffed, recalling the god-awful advice the counsellor gave you.

“What about your parents?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“Never, no. I mean, I’m sure they guessed. I never had any birthday parties, but I didn’t want to tell them,” you mumbled.

“Why?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged.

“I felt stupid because everyone else in school could make friends; they could go a full day without being bullied or mocked or made fun of, and I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to burden them,” you admitted, letting out a muffled sob.

“They’re your parents; they wouldn’t think you’re being a burden. You’re their daughter,” Joshua offered, and you shrugged.

“I wore a skirt to a school disco once, and all the others could do was point out how funny I looked. Everything and anything I did in school, I felt like a hundred eyes watching me, waiting for me to fuck up,” you explained, taking a deep breath.

“All through school, I lived like that, so forgive me for being cautious when a new guy—especially a guy like you—openly welcomes me as his friend,” you mumbled, making Joshua quirk his brows at you.

“A guy like me?” Joshua asked.

“A hot and handsome guy. A guy like you would be the boyfriend of one of the pretty girls, someone like Nia. You’d be with her, and you two would give me sickly sweet smiles before laughing at me the minute my back was turned, and I – I guess I know you’re not that kind of a person, but when Nia snapped at me and used the fact you kissed me as an attack… it felt like that I was back in high school,” you admitted.

“I see,” Joshua said before turning you around to face him. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest with me, okay?” Joshua asked. You nodded. “Did you think I was mocking you when I told Jeonghan we kissed?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I have a past where guys that looked like you and Jeonghan would mock me, and girls like Nia would get guys like you while I sat on the sidelines and watched,” you reasoned, and Joshua nodded.

“You’ve survived a lot, and I’m sorry you even had to go through it in the first place, but please know one thing: I’m not going to ever hurt you like that,” Joshua said, kissing your hand softly.

“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, not because I felt pity or anything. Girls like Nia… I don’t know what to make of that sentence, but I kissed you, not her. I find you beautiful, and I’ll gladly go blue in the face repeating it to you,” Joshua proclaimed, making you smile.

“It’s not out of pity either. I wish you could see yourself the way I do one day,” he inched forward.

“Can I?” He finally asked.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his soft lips on yours. Moments later, Joshua pulled away and smiled at you.

“You’re beautiful. And I hope you’ll understand that every time I kiss you, it’s not because I have an ulterior motive but because I want to.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply blushed and smiled at him, nodding.

“Now cuddle me. I want to sleep, and I know you don’t have an assignment tomorrow, considering you messaged me saying freedom in capitals,” Joshua joked as he pulled you into his arms.

You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he remembered that little detail that would haunt you and make you overthink everything Joshua would ever do.

You had never slept next to a boy before. Let alone wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours. But here you were the following day – laying in Joshua’s vice-like embrace.ou moved slightly to get up, and you thought you were successful until you heard Joshua let out a soft moan.

You froze. You were sure that was just a regular moan he would let out in his sleep until he moved his leg, and you felt his hardness against your inner thigh. You might have never felt the touch of another pair of lips on yours until a month ago, but you weren’t an idiot. You could tell an erection when you felt one. You knew Joshua was turned on. But then again, you recalled reading that sometimes men just get hard for no reason.

That was it, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t because he was attracted to you; it was simply because there was a concept known as ‘morning wood’, and Joshua was prominently exhibiting it. Still, you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help the arousal you felt start to pool in your panties.

You were a virgin, not a moron; you knew what was happening to you. And you needed Joshua to leave as soon as possible so that you could take care of the problem he caused.

“Joshua,” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, which only made him move against you more, allowing his length to brush against your inner thigh over and over. He was incredibly long, is what you gathered. Very well endowed.

“Stop moving,” Joshua mumbled sleepily as he pulled you tighter to him, moving his hips again as his length brushed against you, this time dangerously close to your aching cunt. You knew you needed to stop him before it escalated, and he regretted it.

“Shua!” you yelped, pinching him, making him groan as he jolted awake, glaring at you as you broke free from his embrace.

“Woman, will you let me sleep?” Joshua complained, his morning voice doing nothing to ease the ache in your pussy. It was so husky and deep… You wanted that voice to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life.

“Not until that goes away!” you blurted out, making Joshua look at you funny until he followed your gaze down to his cock–his very hard cock.

“Oh fuck! Well… this is just a normal thing,” Joshua said, chuckling, and you knew you hated how that made you feel. You wished to be the reason to arouse him, but he chalked it up to biology. “If I’m not out of line in saying this, you would also cause a similar problem, and holding you in my arms like that last night… felt nice. So I’m sure my body was showing its appreciation in ways I didn’t,” he explained further, making you look down at the duvet with a stupid smile adorning your face.

“Joshua, if you need to take care of it, you should do it. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled quickly, earning a nod from Joshua.

“Wait, ever?” Joshua asked, hating how incredulity laced his voice.

“No. You don’t need to sound so shocked,” you mumbled, feeling defensive.

“I’m not; I’m sorry, it’s the ass crack of dawn, and my brain is barely functioning,” Joshua defended.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And yet your cock was nestled in my ass crack,” you teased, your eyes widening in horror when you realised what you said.

“Did you like it?” Joshua suddenly asked; his demeanour changed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard, making you gulp.

His erection was more prominent with this slight adjustment.

“I asked you a question. Did you like my cock rubbing against you,” Joshua repeated, this time his eyes burning into yours, and you knew you couldn’t lie.

“What am I meant to say? I’m human,” you replied lamely, hoping it’d give him enough of an answer for him just to drop it.

“So, it turned you on?” Joshua asked instead.

You glared at him. “Why do you want to know?”

Joshua smiled at you, admitting, “Because to think you are turned on… it’s fucking hot,”��

You wanted to yell but bit your lip to avoid verbalising your thoughts.

“It’s even hotter knowing that I’m the reason behind it,” he added, and you kept staring at the duvet.

“You should go,” you said abruptly, making him look at you in confusion.

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said that.

Well, you did know why you didn’t want to be intimate with him: for fear that he’d take one look at what you had to offer and be repulsed. You’d be led to believe so what would stop him?

“If I overstepped,” he started to say, and you shook your head and held your hand out to him.

“You didn’t! Just go!” you rushed, getting off the bed, indicating to Joshua that he, too, should leave.

“I’ll catch you later?” Joshua quietly offered, and you nodded, waving to him awkwardly as he walked out of your room.

You let out a breath you were holding after he left.

You shook your head, cursing yourself for kicking him out, but you knew you did the right thing. Joshua, just like any other man, had eyes and would be disgusted once he saw what you hid under your clothes.

Later that day, you walked into your lecture hall, cursing, when you saw that the only empty seat left was the one next to Nia. You sighed as you moved to sit down next to her, and she hesitated for a second before moving her bag down to the floor allowing you to sit next to her.

“Hey,” you mumbled.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were trying to converse with her when she had been rude to you, but you didn’t have many friends. This meant you didn’t have very high standards or understand boundaries.

“Hi,” Nia replied. Her tone was clipped.

You assumed it was because she didn’t want to be disruptive during a lecture. She gave you a tight-lipped smile before returning to the front of the screen.

“Y/N, hold up,” Nia called after you as you started to walk out of the lecture theatre once the professor had dismissed everyone. “Thanks for ratting me out to Joshua, by the way,” she taunted, and your eyes widened.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. That was really shit. But you ran to Joshua, who then told Jeonghan, and then Jeonghan took it upon himself to lecture me about being kind to one another for twenty minutes. Either way, I shouldn’t have said what I said, so this is my apologies.

“We good?” Nia asked, and you nodded.

Not understanding what boundaries meant and not having many friends made you realise that your bar for human decency could have been higher. They needed to be higher. You knew that what Nia said to you was barely an apology. It was more of an “I’m sorry you got offended” apology, a shallow apology usually reserved for celebrities and their notes app.

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just that Joshua caught me crying that day, and I guess I ended up telling him everything,” you rambled, biting your tongue, realising that you should have done it sooner, for it would have prevented you from oversharing.

Your bond with Joshua was sacred; you didn’t want any other girl or anyone to come in between that. You knew it was selfish and childish, but he held your entire life in his hands, and he didn’t know it.

“So, are you two close friends then?” Nia asked as you two walked down the hall to the quad.

“Yes,” you confirmed. You were shy about most things, but not this. You were his friend, one of his closest.

“Then, do you know if he’s currently got his eyes on anyone?” Nia asked, her tone lowering slightly and your eyes widening at her question.

“Wait, what?” you asked, and Nia smiled at you, the kind of smile that reminded you of the girls in school who called you pretty – only to say that you were pretty ugly.

“Oh, I’m just screwing with you. He’s hot, but don’t worry. I don’t need your advice to get him. Besides, he and I have already kissed once,” Nia casually stated, making your heart sink.

“What? When?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

“Oh, you know, the night you chickened out for the dare to get pecked by Joshua? Someone dared him to kiss me after you left, and he did. I have to say I wanted to know what else he could do with his mouth,” Nia chuckled, making you feel like your stomach was twisting.

You needed to leave.

You couldn’t hear this.

“I have to rush back, but I’ll catch you later?” you rushed, and Nia smirked, nodding and sending you a sickly-sweet smile.

You were beyond thankful that your feet still moved because your mind was starting to malfunction and short-circuit.

Joshua kissed you after he kissed Nia. That meant it was a pity kiss. And not only that, you were so taken away by the sweet cherry taste on his lips. Now it hit you that the taste was not only cherry but also peach, and it wasn’t his lip balm. It was hers.

Joshua had kissed you without even bothering to remove the evidence that he kissed Nia minutes ago.

But it wasn’t his fault, you thought. You were so desperate to be loved and feel the intimacy – to feel a proper kiss, the kind of kisses your friends bragged about – that you didn’t care that your first proper kiss was not only a pity kiss but that you also tasted another woman’s lip balm with it.

You felt so stupid.

Joshua had lied to you about what the kiss meant and failed to tell you that he kissed Nia. But then again, he was under no obligation to tell you anything. Where his lips went was not your business. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just his friend.

“Y/N, keep storming around like that, and you’ll burn a hole into the rug,” Joshua joked, his voice interrupting your thoughts when you realised that while you were busy ripping yourself to shreds, you reached back to the dorms. “Oh, by the way, I got something I want to show you. Can I show you in your room?” he asked excitedly.

You couldn’t help the jealousy, bitterness, and anger that overtook your following words. “Sure, but are you sure that you didn’t show Nia first and are putting on an act now, pretending to show me?” you spat at him, taking Joshua aback.

“Run that by me again?” he asked, and you scoffed as you opened your room door. Joshua walked in behind you, making you glare at him.

“You kissed Nia that night. The night you kissed me, the first night. You kissed her and then kissed me,” you mumbled, hating how vulnerable and weak you sounded at this moment.

Joshua kept going from being your safe space to a man who toyed with your feelings.

“I, fuck, how did you find out?” he asked, running his hand over his face and letting out a deep exhale, and you stared at him.

“You’re not going to deny it?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he offered bluntly, making you scoff.

“You had no problem lying to me that night,” you countered, and Joshua shook his head at you.

“I didn’t lie. I omitted a fact. But yeah, you’re right. Why did this conversation even occur? What did Nia say, exactly?”

You sighed at Joshua’s questions. “Doesn’t matter. The point is that you kissed me after you kissed her,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he inched closer to you to place his hands on your face, making you look at him. “Why does that matter?” he asked so innocently that you felt like you couldn’t even be upset.

But you were. “Because I was a consolation kiss! You might not see it that way, but I fucking do, Joshua! I do. And you know what? It fucking sucks to know that you only kissed me because you felt bad for me. You kissed me after kissing the pretty girl, too, to what? Show that you’re capable of charity?” you accused.

Joshua groaned. “I get your past, and I get why it’s making you lash out in the ways it is, but you cannot compare everything I do to the people who fucked you over in the past! I’m not one of them,” Joshua defended, earning a dry laugh from you.

“Really? Because you are sure as shit fucking me over like them. I don’t want you kissing me or saying lewd things when you get hard from cuddling me because you think it’s easy to fuck with my feelings. I might not have any experience with all this, Joshua, but I have plenty of experience with being hurt and fucked over. You’re not the one I expected it to come from, though,” you spat back.

Joshua just sighed. “Look, come find me when you want to talk like an adult. But if every little piece of gossip sets you off like this, I cannot keep up,” Joshua announced as he stormed out of your room.

It was only your room he left… so why did it feel like he walked out of your life and broke your heart with the door as it slammed shut behind him?

You didn’t talk to Joshua for two weeks.

You’d bump into him often. How could you not? He stayed across from you, and it was hard to avoid your neighbour. Except it seemed like he would go out of his way to ignore you and express his disdain for you.

At first, you assumed you were being dramatic, just like Joshua would call you dramatic. Maybe he, too, realised he wanted nothing to do with you, just like everyone else.

“Penny, for your thoughts?” the guy suddenly asked you one day when you returned from your lecture.

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, puzzled. Joshua smiled, nodding.

“I thought I wasn’t enough of an adult?” you snapped, making Joshua wince as you unlocked your door.

However, he still followed you inside your room, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you asked, and he frowned, looking down at his feet.

“I know I did something shitty to you, and it’s even worse because I wasn’t an adult myself. Hell, I stormed out of your room,” Joshua admitted, chuckling, and you sighed deeply at him.

“I know I was too much. I just have a past,” you mumbled, and Joshua nodded.

“I’m not trying to negate it, Y/N, but at some point you need to move past it. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want; why don’t you take advantage of that?” Joshua offered, and you nodded at him.

“I know, and I get it. But with my past, Shua, I just – I let it haunt me so much that I end up struggling to believe that anyone could ever like me for me,” you admitted, and Joshua frowned as he moved to stand in front of you, his tall frame dwarfing you.

“I’m so sorry that I was not more understanding. Truly, I am. I should have been, fuck. I just let my immaturity get the best of me,” Joshua apologised, and you shook your head at him.

“We’re both learning. You have no reason to apologise to me. I’m serious. You don’t,” you admitted, and Joshua smiled softly at you as he wrapped you in a tight embrace.

“How about we blow off steam at the party that Jeonghan’s flat is hosting?” Joshua offered.

“I don’t know, the last party did nothing but cause drama, or rather, I overreacted,” you mumbled softly, making Joshua shake his head at you.

“Your reactions are valid. Please don’t let me or anyone take that away from you,” Joshua comforted you, making you smile softly at him.

“So, what’s the occasion of this party?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged.

“I honestly don’t know, and I quote Jeonghan on this: who needs a reason? A party is a party,” Joshua chuckled, making you smile along with him. “Come on, go get ready, and we can go!” Joshua cheered, making you smile at him. “Look, we’re going to have ups and downs in our friendships. Isn’t that normal? But I promise I’ll keep the dramatic storming out of rooms to a minimum,” he joked, making you nod at him.

“What should I wear?” you asked, making Joshua grin.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in,” he answered, making you swoon at his answer.

It was a simple statement, but he never pressured you to look a certain way. But you still let your demons get the best of you.

Was the reason why he didn’t deem it necessary to tell you to wear something nice that, regardless of what you wore, he’d never consider you attractive, so it didn’t matter?

“I can hear you overthinking. I’m saying wear something comfortable because it’s a flat party, not because I think you can’t pull off something else. I know you can. Hell, if you want to wear a dress and heels tonight, I support it, but I know you won’t be comfortable in it, not at a house party,” Joshua rationalised, calming the demons in your mind and making you nod and smile at him.

“Sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, and Joshua shook his head at you.

“Stop apologising for how you feel,” he said as he moved to open your wardrobe.

“Oh, what about this? It’s sparkly?” Joshua beamed as he handed you a sparkly green top.

You bought it on a whim once; it was what all the pretty girls in the magazines wore, it was what all the cute girls wore, and you just thought that if you wore that, you too would be pretty.

“It’s stunning, and I think it’d make you sparkle and look like a mermaid,” Joshua laughed.

“Mermaids are attractive?” You asked, taking the green top from him.

“Listen, Ariel is fucking hot,” he declared, making you laugh.

“She nearly gave up everything for a guy. A guy who she knew nothing about, and all because he was handsome,” you mumbled.

“Not a Little Mermaid Fan?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“Not a fan of how much she gave up for him,” you mumbled, and he nodded, sensing that if he didn’t divert your attention somewhere else, this conversation would take a very gloomy turn.

“To be fair, and I’m just assuming here, it wouldn’t be easy to sustain a relationship with a damn fish,” Joshua said knowingly, making you laugh.

“Okay, get out, you fish expert. I need to get ready,” you joked, pushing Joshua towards your door, and he nodded.

“Be ready in about thirty minutes?” Joshua offered, and you nodded.

You were done with your shower, and as you walked out, you almost liked what you saw in the mirror.

Almost.

You wore the sparkly green top, paired it with black jeans, and wore your stripped Converse. You dusted a light wash of makeup on your face and some mascara on it then reached for the peach-flavoured gloss and dabbed your lips with a small amount before smiling in the mirror.

“Ready?” You heard Joshua yelling obnoxiously outside your door, making you cringe at him.

“You’re insufferable,” you giggled as you opened the door, laughing at him.

Your laughter stuck in your throat when you took in Joshua’s appearance.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Joshua giggled, making you glare at him.

“You look good, okay,” you huffed, making Joshua smile.

“Likewise. Shall we go? Jeonghan’s been texting me. Oh, by the way, Nia will be there,” Joshua said, his voice softening as he spoke her name.

“Shua, I can manage. She might have just been having a bad day. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” you said, not meaning it entirely, but Joshua was right. You couldn’t live your entire life crying at every upsetting situation.

“If she steps out of line, I’ll put her back in place, I promise,�� Joshua added, and you smirked at him.

“Kinky,” you joked before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock at what you said.

“Oh, do you want to find out?” Joshua teased, making you look down shyly.

“Come on, Jeonghan is waiting,” you said shyly as you dragged him across the hall to flat 2B.

You didn’t see it then, and how you wish you did because your words lit a fire of envy in Joshua, one he could not douse and one that ended up ruining the night.

The house party was going quite well, there were no silly dares and no bitchy comments, but you couldn’t place your finger on Joshua’s behaviour. The entire night, he was distant and standoffish with you.

Hell, he was chatting with Nia for a fair bit, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were a chronic over-thinker and that Joshua didn’t necessarily mean to do what he did with the intent of hurting you.

“I like your top, by the way,” Jeonghan said rather loudly and drunkenly, and you smiled, thanking him.

“Oh, thank you. Actually, Joshua helped pick it out,” you answered, and you saw Joshua smile warmly at you. He was about to respond when Nia spoke before him instead.

“Why? You can’t choose your outfits or something?” Nia mocked, earning a couple of chuckles from what you could only guess were her minions.

“I…” you mumbled, lost.

Joshua was about to speak, but something stopped him. That something was Jeonghan, who shot daggers at Nia, making her roll her eyes.

“Anyways, I was promised games, and all we’ve done is drink and make small talk,” Nia complained, and Jeonghan nodded slowly.

“Get the cards then, and we can start playing,” Jeonghan said as he turned to face you.

“You look beautiful, don’t listen to her. She has this bitchy persona, but she’s actually nice. Just got to get past the ice-cold persona,” Jeonghan mumbled to you.

You smiled at him before noticing how Joshua smiled at Nia and whatever she whispered.

Didn’t he say he’d set Nia straight if she spoke out of turn? So why didn’t he?

“Alright, we’re just playing snap but with dares and forfeits if you don’t do your dare,” Nia explained once one of her friends brought her a deck of cards to her.

It was quite an easy game, and the night was progressing smoothly. Nia hadn’t made a single snide comment, and thankfully, your speed made you avoid some stupid dares.

“Oh! Joshua, you lost that round. You have to complete a dare!” One of Nia’s friends squealed, making you wince.

“Ugh, I knew it. What do I have to do?” Joshua asked, smiling. You felt your heart starting to pound in your chest.

“Make out with Nia. I know you guys only kissed, but this time, a proper make out,” Nia’s friend suggested, making your heart fall into your stomach with her suggestion.

Surely, he wouldn’t say yes.

“Sure, why not?” Joshua chuckled as he turned to face Nia, who shot you a smirk before meeting to place her lips on his, earning a few wolf whistles and cheers from the others in the room as they kissed.

They fit together. It made sense. She knew what to do. You didn’t.

You could feel your eyes burn with tears and knew you had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. You couldn’t keep watching this.

You got up to leave but got up so hastily that you failed to notice that your glittery top got snagged by the edge of the table. The tear was barely noticeable, but the scrape of your chair against the floor was loud and got everyone’s attention, including Nia who smirked at you.

“See, this is why you should dress for your body, not just based on trends. I guess that the rip was the universe’s way of letting you know that the shirt needed to be let out a bit,” Nia said with a straight face, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words were laced with venom.

The venom that you could feel was starting to move in your body and to your heart and brain, making you hate everything about your body and yourself more than usual.

Nia’s vile comments finally made Joshua snap as he pulled away from her and stood up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at Nia as she shrugged.

“She looked silly in that top. Is that why you picked it up, Shua? Because you couldn’t resist, knowing how stupid she would look in that?” Nia added, smirking. Her words were slurred, so you knew not to believe her, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

But then again, doesn’t a drunken mind speak sober thoughts?

“Y/N!” Joshua called out as you turned your back to everyone and tried to leave.

You took a deep breath before turning to him. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled before exiting the flat.

After the flat party, you returned to your room, and you stood in front of your mirror in your underwear after a shower.

You stared hard; you could see every dent, mark, and scar on your body.

You weren’t chubby, far from it, but you weren’t a size two.

You had curves, which came at the cost of more stretch marks.

You had long, wavy hair that never seemed to cooperate with you.

Nia was right; you didn’t look good.

You were so immersed in picking yourself apart that you failed to notice Joshua walk in and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mumbled into your bare skin, and you could feel his toned arms under the flimsy fabric of your bra.

“For what? She’s just telling the truth. She’s the kind of flawless I wish I could be,” you mumbled, squinting at the reflection.

You hated what you looked like. You sighed deeply before removing Joshua’s arms around you.

“I fucked up. I said I’d defend you, and I didn’t,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed, sitting on your bed.

Joshua sat down, kneeling, making you look into his big eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Why the fuck are you the one about to cry? I’m the one that got body-shammed in front of everyone. You got the pretty girl, and you got to even kiss her!”

“I’m about to cry because I have been spouting this loyalty bullshit from day one, and when it came to you, I just let it go. And I guess it’s because you dropped my hand when I was being suggestive and ran off to find Jeonghan instead,” Joshua grumbled, and you scoffed at him.

“That’s such a pathetic reason. I only ran off like that because, you know, I’m uncomfortable with sexual innuendos and jokes. I’ve never experienced anything, so how can I pursue a conversation further?” You questioned.

Joshua just frowned as he looked to the ground.

“I didn’t,” you started to say and moved to kneel until you were on your knees, sitting in front of Joshua. “I didn’t run because I wanted to get cosy with Jeonghan. But I’ll say he was a better friend than you were tonight,” you finished and stood up, grabbing an oversized shirt off your chair, pulling it over your body, and moving to Joshua.

“I was seeing red, and like a fucking dick, I said nothing. I didn’t pick that top for you because I wanted to mock you. I picked it because you looked lovely in it. It fits you like a glove,” Joshua spoke, and you scoffed at him.

“Are you sure I didn’t look like a stuffed turkey instead?” you mocked, and Joshua shook his head.

“I don’t know what Nia’s deal is—I don’t fucking know—but you didn’t look silly in the outfit. It’s your body; you wear what you want. You looked lovely, my angel,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you quirked your brows at him.

“My angel?” you echoed, and Joshua blushed slightly.

“I give nicknames,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Only to the ones I love,” he replied, making your heart swoon.

You knew you already had it wrong for Joshua, but his saying made you swoon more. You felt safe, and you knew that you were falling for him.

“I didn’t look stupid in the green top?” you asked again, and Joshua smiled, turning to face you.

“No, you didn’t. Fuck Nia and her stupid ass opinions,” Joshua huffed, hoping it’d make you laugh, but somehow it failed.

“Wasn’t that your aim tonight? To fuck her. I mean, I gathered that was the aim because you leapt at the chance to kiss her,” you spat at Joshua, who shrank at the accusation.

“I just… fuck, I screwed up. I told you that I got mad, and I fucked up. I fucking did. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed.

“It hurt to watch that,” you voiced, and Joshua nodded.

“Did, uh, did you want to kiss me instead?” Joshua asked, and your eyes widened.

“Is this some sort of stupid game you play where you kiss Nia first and then come back and give me a pity kiss? Because if it is, I want nothing to do with it,” you said as you tried to get up, only to have Joshua pull you back onto his lap, glaring at you.

“It’s not. Fuck, do you not realise that I had kissed you before, which wasn’t a fucking pity kiss? Two, I got hard for you. And now I want to kiss you because you looked amazing at that party, but you look even better in this stupid shirt that I kind of want to rip you off!” Joshua exclaimed, making your eyes widen.

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to respond.

Joshua rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, oh,” he huffed, making you giggle.

You didn’t know where you felt a surge of confidence rush into your blood, but you did, and as it did, the words tumbled out of your mouth sooner than you could stop them.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered out.

Okay, maybe you weren’t that confident, but you said the words, and you knew Joshua heard them because his grip around your waist tightened.

Joshua didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you in closer until your lips met his. You ignored the taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips and instead tried to enjoy his taste, but you couldn’t. You eventually sighed into the kiss as you pulled away.

“Did I do something?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“I just… I keep tasting Nia’s stupid cherry lip gloss on your lips, and it’s killing the mood,” you admitted, making Joshua sigh as he used his shirt to wipe his lips.

“Try again,” he encouraged, and so you did.

This time, you could taste him; the cherry flavour was an aftertaste, but one you could swallow because you liked him too much to care.

As the kiss progressed, Joshua’s grip on your waist only got tighter, and you kept moving against his hips, making him groan into the kiss. He was so big and thick that you could feel yourself grow wetter each minute.

“Wait, stop,” he mumbled against your lips, his grip still tight on your waist because he knew you’d run away the second he told you to stop. “Where does all this leave us? The slight dry-humping, the kisses?” he asked, and you smiled at him.

You wanted to tell him you liked and wanted to date him, but you didn’t want to scare him off. So, you decided to choose an option that would only hurt you.

But if that was the only way you could ever have Joshua, so be it.

“How about we just keep it casual?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered, and Joshua nodded.

“I agree,” Joshua replied, not leaving room for an explanation as his lips were back on yours instantly, making you moan into the kiss.

Casual it is.

Over the next three weeks, you learnt what casual meant. It meant still being friends with Joshua and having your usual movie nights with him. And then sometimes you’d end up on his lap, kissing him.

A week after the casual arrangement began, you found yourself bare-chested and at the mercy of Joshua’s lips and hands running all over your breasts while you palm his hard length over his boxers.

In the second week of understanding what casual meant, you found yourself clenching around his long fingers as they moved inside of you. You didn’t entirely realise how it happened. Still, it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop it. You were riding the wave of euphoria for as long as you could, and you couldn’t see it crashing anytime soon. You had also given your first blowjob. It was glorious watching Joshua fall apart under your touch. It was a sight you wanted to be tattooed in your brain.

During the third week of understanding the word casual, you felt pleasure you only thought was confined to porn and smutty fanfiction, but when you two stumbled back drunkenly after a night out, you couldn’t control your hormones.

You wanted him.

“Joshuaie!” you slurred slightly as he helped you back to your room.

It was a Friday night, and you had too much to drink. As a result, you ended up stumbling a bit, but you weren’t drunk, far from it. But you also had a pep to your step, one that did not help you walk.

“Sit,” Joshua ordered as he helped you sit on your bed.

His tone was slightly cold, and you immediately felt like he had poured cold water all over you. With one word, you sobered up immediately and let out a sniffle.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night out. I’ll be fine. You can go back and enjoy yourself,” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off and scurried under your covers.

Joshua sighed as he walked into your ensuite bathroom, grabbed your makeup wipes, returned to you, and sat on your bed.

“Sit up,” he said, his tone softer this time, his kind eyes sparkling with endearment.

“You didn��t ruin my night, none of it. Fuck, I just got annoyed. A few guys made some shitty comments about you, and I wanted to punch them,” Joshua explained as you sat up, and he moved to wipe the makeup off your face gently.

“Oh, they probably said I looked hideous; no need to get mad at that, nothing I’m not used to,” you admitted, letting out a sad chuckle.

“Is that what you fucking think?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged, at which he sighed, kicking off his shoes.

You shrugged. “Is it not?”

Joshua shook his head. “Fuck, they couldn’t stop talking about all the sexual things they wanted to do to you, and I wanted to just punch them. No man should ever talk about a woman like that. It’s so stupid,” Joshua huffed out, making you smile.

“Well, at least I was being complimented,” you sassed back, spilling out of your bed as you drunkenly stumbled into your bathroom and stepped into your shower, the alcohol making you forget Joshua’s presence in the room.

Thankfully, you always kept an oversized shirt in the bathroom, which you changed into before stepping out of the shower and walking back into the room.

“The things those guys were saying weren’t complimentary. They were sexist and disgusting hell. If it were me…” Joshua trailed off when you joined him on your bed.

“What would you say, huh?” you asked, and Joshua smiled as he inched closer to you.

“I’d do more than speak,” he answered.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; it was now filled with want and desire, and you decided to bask in the glory and be bolder.

“Show me then,” you mumbled.

“You’ve been drinking,” Joshua mumbled, and you shrugged.

“Your point? I’m buzzed, but I can consent. I can count to ten backwards if you want,” you joked.

Joshua smiled as he stood up, making you stand up with him. He pulled the curtains over your window so that the only thing illuminating the room was your table light. Joshua moved to pull the leather jacket off his body and tossed it on your desk before pulling you into a soft kiss.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you tonight,” he admitted, making you smile. “Can I take this off?” he asked, and you hesitated for a second, then nodded.

“Just know that… I don’t look like a model underneath,” you mumbled suddenly. Even though Joshua had been intimate with you before, you still felt insecure every time.

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Joshua praised you as he pulled the fabric off your body, leaving you naked.

He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees touched his bed. He gently pushed you down, and you moved back on the bed as he crawled between your legs. He placed his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, and Joshua slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening it. He pulled away gently just to look at you.

“Can I touch you?” Joshua asked, and you nodded slowly.

He smiled as he placed his lips on yours again, kissing you again, and then moved his mouth to your breasts.

“Fucking hell, these tits. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to suck and bite them.”

You moaned as he squeezed your breasts, his fingertips rubbing your nipples.

“Each time you were in a low-cut top, I wanted nothing more than to bring you into a room and take your tits in my mouth.”

You squeezed your thighs as Joshua’s words did nothing but torment your aching cunt.

He moved a hand down your body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he moved to lay down between your legs.

He pushed your legs apart, and his tongue found your cunt. He placed several kisses on your cunt, each kiss making you buck into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Easy, princess, I’m going to take good care of you.” You nodded as he ran his tongue along your folds, moaning as he tasted you. He circled his tongue around your entrance as he pushed his long and thick tongue inside you.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you cried out, tugging on his hair.

He growled into your cunt when you tugged on his hair, the vibrations making you shake. He pulled his mouth away from you and pushed two fingers inside you. He stood on his knees and stared at you directly as he hooked his fingers inside you, his other hand pressing down on your stomach.

“Hold still, princess; I will make you scream my name.”

You nodded, and Joshua started moving his hand up and down vigorously. You could hear just how wet you were getting.

“Come on, princess, I can hear how fucking wet you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just squirted all over my hand?”

You arched your back as Joshua kept fingering you.

“Pretty girl, I can hear you squirt for me. I can make you squirt again, don’t worry.”

You kept whimpering until something inside you snapped, and you felt your vision fade as you came hard. You felt yourself squirt all over Joshua’s fingers. He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them.

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” Joshua moaned, praising you. You felt a bolt of confidence surge as you got onto your knees. “You don’t have to?” he assured, but you shook your head at him.

“I want to. Will you let me?”

You reached forward and wrapped your mouth around his length. Well, as much as you could, your hands made up for what your mouth couldn’t. You ran your tongue along his length until you fixated your mouth around his tip. You kept sucking his tip, and your hands reached down to play with his balls. Joshua bucked in your mouth as you kept sucking his tip.

“Fucking hell.”

You smirked. Catching Joshua off guard was the only way to get him to submit to you.

“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!”

You kept bobbing your head up and down his length until you felt him still in your mouth and felt his warmth release down your throat. You pulled away, slowly swallowing his release and giving his sensitive tip a final lick.

“Fuck, get over here,” Joshua moaned as he pulled you into his arms for a sweet kiss.

You giggled into his chest as he cuddled you, making him nudge you. “What’s on your mind?”

“You’re perfect,” you said. No mumbling, nothing. You said it confidently.

“No one’s perfect,” Joshua countered, “plus, you’re only saying that because of the amazing orgasm I just gave you,” Joshua joked, making you groan and sit up.

“No, you are! You’re so fucking perfect, just you are. I’ll explain someday; right now, it’s fuzzy, but you’re the closest thing to perfection,” you mumbled as you laid back down and curled into Joshua’s embrace.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you over winter break,” Joshua spoke, and you nodded.

“Only three weeks, nothing’s going to change. I’ll still be here,” you said, touching his lips and making him smile into the kiss.

The thing about bold statements is that they often come with uncertainty and pain should things not pan out the way you want. Which is precisely what happened to you.

You said in three weeks nothing would change, but you were wrong because you told yourself that when you were high off the orgasms and falling in love with Joshua, your love only grew stronger every second.

“Y/N!” Joshua exclaimed when he found you at the café. You were waiting patiently for him. It was the first week back from winter break, and Joshua finally texted to meet up.

You agreed. You also decided that you wanted to confess to him, to tell him you liked him.

“Joshua!” You greeted cheerfully as the tall boy hugged you tightly.

How do you get more handsome every day?

It was true; Joshua was getting increasingly handsome each day, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was good for your heart.

“So, what’s up?” he asked once you two sat down in a booth, and he smiled, noticing you ordered his favourite drink for him.

“Uh, winter break was good. I spent time with family, and uh, Joshua, I have to tell you something,” you started, and he nodded.

“Me too!” Joshua exclaimed, and you smiled, thinking that maybe you and him were on the same page. Perhaps he liked you the way you liked him.

“Really?” you asked. “Okay, you first,” you said, and Joshua grinned.

As he was about to speak, a pair of long, slender arms wrapped around his chest, and a kiss was placed on his cheek.

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces – all stabbing you at the same time.

“Baby, I missed you!”

You looked to see Nia slide into the booth next to Joshua, making you feel nauseous. You felt like a fucking fool.

Why would Joshua ever reciprocate what you felt for him? Why would he ever want you when he had a girl like Nia?

“Babe, you’re early. I haven’t told her yet,” Joshua mumbled, apologetic as he awkwardly smiled at you. Nia shrugged.

“You two are dating?” you asked, and Joshua nodded.

“We met when I went back home, Nia’s from the same town, and we hung out, and you know, over the last three weeks, she made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Joshua said, and you could feel your eyes starting to sting with tears.

“Wait, baby, they just called my order. Be right back,” Nia said, kissing Joshua’s cheek as she waltzed away.

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I promise she’s kind, loving and sweet when you dig past the cold persona. I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t know how. We weren’t really together or anything, you know?” Joshua mumbled, and that did it for you.

He never even saw what you two shared as unique. You were nothing to him.

“Does she make you happy?” You asked, and Joshua nodded, smiling.

“Then I hope she knows that her side gets her the most amazing man, but if she hurts you,” you started to say, and Joshua shook his head.

“She won’t!” he said excitedly, and you nodded, knowing that your ‘I’ll hurt her if she hurts you’ speech would be wasted on him.

“Then, go be happy, Joshua, that’s all I want,” you said as you gathered your things. You had to leave this café. You’d fall apart if you stayed any longer.

“Wait, you said you have something to tell me?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“I got to go. Another time.”

You rushed, hurrying out of the café and back to your dorm room, where you cried into your pillow. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, then you cried some more. You cried until you couldn’t feel anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that the boy you loved was never going to be yours.

You would have to see them, Joshua and Nia. You’d have to see her with him, and it’d hurt because she had everything you had to live without.

Joshua tried to balance, but he was failing. He would flake on meetings with you and study sessions or hangouts, which started getting on your nerves. You brought it up to him one night during a movie night.

“Stop making plans if you keep flaking,” you mumbled, and you saw Joshua glare at you.

“It’s not out of malice. Forget it; you won’t get it,” Joshua dismissed.

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” You asked, and he sighed.

“You’re not dating anyone. You’ve never been in a relationship either, so I guess you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, and you scoffed at him.

“I don’t have to be doing either of those things to call you out on being a shit friend,” you retorted, making Joshua scoff.

“You only just made friends, so please don’t act like you have any authority on what friends are meant to do either,” Joshua fired back, making your eyes well up with tears.

“That’s so mean,” you choked out.

Joshua groaned. “Oh, for the love of God, I can’t be at your beck and call! I have a life! I’m sorry you don’t, but I do! Why don’t you go out to make some friends? I won’t be able to be there for you all the time, not when someone needs me more, and she’s a priority,” Joshua said.

His words felt like daggers, slicing you open, drawing blood, but all you felt were tears stinging your eyes.

“I’m going. You’re right, I should make more friends. Also, I never asked to be a priority, Joshua, but I didn’t expect you to make me an afterthought… But I get it now, you don’t need me,” you explained, tears running down your face as you hurriedly grabbed your bag and stormed out of his room and back to yours.

He didn’t come after you this time when he made you cry. This time, you were alone.

And this time, you knew he was not yours. Not anymore.

~~~

Three Months Later

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing at this party; none of the people here were your friends, but you decided to go out because another girl from your dorm, Mai, invited you out. You chose to go since Joshua painfully pointed out how few friends you had and that you should go out and make some.

You weren’t entirely sure these were the types of friends you wanted to make. You weren’t judging them, but they were just different. They were more outgoing, the type to get wasted and hook up with each other. You judged none of it, but it just wasn’t you.

“Yo, Y/N, have a shot of this,” Mai said, rushing over to you and handing you a shot glass of clear liquid. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re so wound up,” she moaned, and you sighed, taking a shot of the drink.

It burnt your throat, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt every time you thought of Joshua.

“Good, have another,” Mai said, handing you another shot, and you did the same thing, downing the clear liquid, shot after shot, until you were four shots in, your mind hazy, and you stopped thinking.

Instead, you soon found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. You forgot his name but didn’t care, not when his kisses distracted you from Joshua. And certainly not later when you were back in your room that night, he was down on his knees trying his best to please you.

“Babe, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he spoke, and you looked at him, his chin wet with your arousal.

“Kyung,” you drawled; his name finally popped into your mind. “I do. I just don’t have protection,” you mumbled.

“Oh, is that it? I do,” Kyung said, fishing out a condom from his back pocket, making you smile in amusement.

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to Joshua. He made it clear that he didn’t see you as someone he’d prioritise, plus he had a girlfriend.

“Just go slow,” you told Kyung as you pulled your dress off.

You didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You didn’t. If Kyung could make you feel wanted, you’d do anything to feel that.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be desired, even if Joshua wasn’t the one to do it.

You woke up to Kyung gently snoring next to you until you nudged him awake the following day.

“Hey, oh, are you okay? Any pain, any regrets?” Kyung asked sweetly, and you shook your head.

“No… Thanks for last night,” you mumbled, and Kyung smiled as he slowly got out of bed.

“Look, I would stay, but I also don’t think your head is in it because you can tell when someone doesn’t like you, but don’t worry! I’m not mad,” Kyung explained.

“Kyung, I’m sorry,” you mumbled as he got dressed and shook his head. “It was a hookup, no hard feelings, right?” you asked, and Kyung nodded, smiling at you.

“Chill, we’re good. But you know, if you ever see me around and you want to repeat what happened last night, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if you never want to acknowledge me again, that’s also okay,” Kyung explained, making you smile.

“I’ll at least say hello,” you joked, making Kyung laugh.

“See you around, Y/N,” Kyung said as he left your room. You sat in bed and slowly got out later to shower, your legs aching with a good ache.

It felt nice last night to feel wanted. You felt utterly rejected by Joshua, and you wanted to feel needed, and if doing things like you did last night made you feel the slightest bit wanted, then you’d do it over and over again.

So, you did.

You continued it. Going out, getting drunk, hooking up with someone random, and each time, you felt more complete seeing how they drooled when they saw you naked. You enjoyed every moment.

Each hookup was your attempt at filling the Joshua-sized hole in your heart, and though it wasn’t entirely practical, it was enough. It was enough to numb your pain.

You continued this pattern for so long that you lost track, lost track of how many people you slept with. You just were chasing something permanent in something fleeting.

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in two years.

Well, here and there, awkward hellos, but he’d become a ghost to you since he started dating Nia. You pulled away too because you couldn’t be around him, not when you felt your heart break a little more every time you saw him.

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in so long, until today, in the final term of your last year of university. You had just returned to the dorms and were unpacking your things after going home for the winter break when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in, it’s open,” you called out, and your eyes widened when they landed on Joshua’s scowling figure. “Well, hello to you too,” you huffed out.

You had gained more confidence in the two years but felt every bit of it ebb away when you saw Joshua again. Because when you saw him, you were always the broken-hearted girl who cried over the fact that she could never have him.

“What the hell are you doing with your life?” He asked, making you stare at him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t act stupid with me. What are you doing, hooking up with someone new almost every week? Do you know that this gossip followed me back home?” Joshua accused you, making you scoff.

“Why do you care? You already made it painfully clear that I was not a priority anymore, so why do you care what I’m doing?” you demanded, and Joshua scoffed.

“Well, if everyone I know is starting to call you a slut, then I care,” Joshua fired back, making you scoff again.

“Do you think that?” you asked, and Joshua sighed.

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“That day in the café, I wanted to tell you I liked you,” you started to say as you unpacked your belongings. “I started falling for you, Joshua. The minute you made me feel seen, kissed me, and the three weeks we spent fooling around, I fell more and more. I thought you felt the same,” you said, pausing to breathe.

“But you didn’t, and I had a Joshua-shaped hole in my heart,” you finished, and Joshua stared at you with wide eyes.

“All that to say, I make no apologies for how I choose to fix that hole in my heart, and I make no apologies for how I choose to fix what you broke,” you responded.

“Did you just quote Meredith Grey to me?” Joshua asked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Shut up, she had great lines,” you bit back.

“I’m just saying you’re getting a reputation, and you know people won’t respect you as much,” Joshua babbled, making you scoff at him.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m trying to forget you,” you lied as tears started to pool in your eyes. “I don’t care about the respect of hundreds of people who don’t know me, but I do care about the respect you have for me,” you asked.

Joshua stayed silent, feet planted on the ground.

“I’ve gotten my answer, thank you,” you replied, and Joshua sighed.

“You keep this up. You’ll lose everyone,” Joshua retorted, making you roll your eyes at him.

“I only ever had you, and I lost you the day you started dating Nia, so I think I’m good,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Fine, be that fucking way,” Joshua scowled as he stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, making the hole in your heart grow with every step he took.

“Y/N!”

You left bed one night when you heard someone yell your name. Startled, you ran to the front door, confused when you saw Jeonghan.

“Joshua’s in my room, and he’s crying. He needs you,” Jeonghan huffed, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“No, he doesn’t, he hasn’t for so long. Tell him to go run to Nia,” you spat out, and Jeonghan sighed, running his hand through his blond hair. It was tousled and messy. You guessed that he had just gotten out of bed.

“Nia is the reason he’s crying, so I can assure you, he does not need her,” Jeonghan deadpanned, making your heart sink. Joshua and Nia had problems?

“Just go to him, preferably before he drenches my bedsheets with his tears,” Jeonghan rushed, and you sighed, following him across the hall to Jeonghan’s room, where you saw the man you were deeply in love with curled into a ball crying.

“Joshua?” you said softly, and you only heard a whimper from him in response.

“Go, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Jeonghan said, pushing you into the room, and you cautiously approached the crying man.

“She cheated,” Joshua blubbered out, and your heart sank.

You could only see red. How could she? She had your entire world in her hands and crushed it in one thoughtless moment.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you spat out, and Joshua shook his head.

“No, just hold me. I don’t want ever to hear her name again,” Joshua begged, and you sighed, giving in to let Joshua cuddle you.

“I deserved this. I said such shitty things to you. No wonder I’m in this predicament now,” Joshua sighed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. You said shitty things. It doesn’t mean you deserved this; no one does; I’m so sorry,” you said, hugging him tighter, earning a soft sigh from him.

“Y/N, I haven’t been a good friend at all, and I’m going to be one of those douchebags who’s going to ask you to be there for me now because I need you, but I promise this time I won’t hurt you, not again,” Joshua admitted sitting up slightly wiping his eyes.

“I…” you hesitated and sighed when you saw hurt flash across his handsome features. “Of course I will,” you said, making Joshua smile.

Of course, you would because you held onto hope. Not that you ever wanted Joshua to get hurt, but he could finally be yours after the hurt passed.

Joshua was true to his word. Things went back to how they were, you two being the best of buds, no benefits, but still, he was your friend, warming your heart up. This time, it would be fine.

“You look nice,” Joshua commented as he walked into your room, his hands automatically moving to adjust the zipper you were fiddling with. “There, all done,” he beamed at you. “You look beautiful,” Joshua commented again as he took in your emerald, green floor-length cocktail gown.

You had just finished getting ready for the final year gala. You smiled at Joshua, and your eyes widened as you took in his appearance.

“You look just as handsome. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you suggested, biting your lip when you saw how his expression fell.

“Let’s not mention that, please?” he asked.

“She who shall not be named?” you offered with a smile, and Joshua nodded.

“Yeah, she who shall not be named.” He smiled as you two walked out to your room and the ballroom.

“Shall we, our final gala as soon-to-be university grads?” Joshua asked, holding his arm to you, and you smiled at him.

You and Joshua enjoyed the gala. For the most part, there was no drama, just a few odd questions about if you and Joshua were dating, but he quickly shot them down. By the night’s end, you were tipsy enough to spill the words brewing on your tongue for the entire night.

You still loved him, and tonight, you’d tell him uninterrupted.

“Okay, what was so important that you needed to drag my ass out here and watch yourself! You’re going to fall over!” Joshua giggled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you smile shyly at him.

This was it; this was the moment you’d tell him everything you felt for him. You’d say to him right here that you loved him.

“Okay, sit,” you declared to Joshua, who only chuckled and then groaned when you pushed him down onto the icy-cold brick walls that adorned your campus. The décor of your campus made it look like a castle, and at this moment, you felt like you were maybe just in a fairytale.

Joshua was the prince, and you were the wide-eyed princess about to confess to him.

“Okay, now shut up and listen,” you giggled, making Joshua laugh.

“I’ve legit said nothing. The floor is all yours, my love,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you melted. That smile would be the death of you. That’s all you knew.

“So, this year, I felt we became so close. I mean, you were my first friend here, hell, you were probably my first friend here, and I know the last two weeks with your breakup, it wasn’t exactly kind on you. However, you could keep a straight face and smile through whatever pain you tried to hide. Inspired me,” you admitted. You saw Joshua’s smile, and you flashed him a smile before you continued to ramble.

“I also remember, the night after that awful party, I told you to come and help me out, and you did, and I remember just drunkenly mumbling apologies to you. I think that was the first time I expressed my gratitude for you. You’ve made me a better person, Joshua,” you professed, struggling to look him in the eyes as you poured your heart out.

“I’m not going to lie. Because of the alcohol, I can’t. Honestly, thanks to the alcohol, I can’t remember much of what I said, but I remember you smiling and saying thank you, so I guess I must have said something right!” You drunkenly continued your monologue, making Joshua nod at you.

“Now,” you said slowly as you stumbled to sit down next to him.

“I’m going to bring this up quick. The way you shut down when you and Nia broke up. It broke me. I hate the fucking fact that she failed to see how wonderful of a man she lost, but that’s her loss, not yours; I hated that you doubted yourself so much,” you babbled as you placed your hand on his, which made him look up at you.

“That being said, you inspired me even in your darkest hours. You were able to finally pull yourself out of that shitty headspace, evaluate it, and then reason. It’s something that I admire in you a lot and a trait I wish I also possessed. When I visited you the night, you found out about Nia’s unfaithfulness. I saw it was a different side to you. I no longer saw you as Joshua, the guy who always kept a straight face and never expressed emotions other than happiness and anger,” you explained, pausing to breathe.

“I saw a guy who was hurt, vulnerable, sensitive, but a guy who was honestly just emotionally drained. That night, I guess, would be the pivotal moment of our friendship because I saw you not only being happy and cheery but also having a different and more sensitive side of yourself,” you smiled as the words tumbled.

“Y/N, you’re going to make me cry if you continue,” Joshua mumbled, and you knew he wasn’t lying, especially with the way his voice was thick with emotion. You shrugged as you moved to sit down next to him.

“Okay, turn, face me,” you slurred slightly, making Joshua laugh at you as he turned to face you.

“How can I help you?” Joshua asked, and you grinned at him.

“Well, now it’s Joshua appreciation time!” you yelled in his face, making him laugh as he slightly cringed at the volume of your voice before nodding, allowing you to speak.

“Well, first, I’m jealous of you!” You exclaimed, making Joshua look at you funnily, “why?” Joshua asked, his voice small.

“You make everything so effortless, good grades, good friends. I know you put effort into everything you do, but you make it look so easy. I’m jealous of that,” you admitted, making Joshua blush as he smiled at the ground.

“Now, you remember how I said if I could use one word to describe you, it’d be perfect, well I still maintain that and let me break it down for you because I know you’re going to give me the bullshit that no one’s perfect, but listen up Hannah Montana, you are!” You declared, making Joshua laugh.

“Look, you’re a fantastic friend. Wait for not a perfect friend. You are excellent at giving advice. You are also extremely trustworthy! If I’m ever questioning or hesitant about anything, I can always count on you to give me the correct answer!” You rambled, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

“Jokes apart, speaking presently, I know this month hasn’t been too kind on you! I won’t dwell on the girl who shall not be named. I know how she broke you into two. Still, I hope you know that you fucking deserve better than her. She lost a good thing, and that’s on her to regret for the rest of her life, not you. You’re going to meet the perfect girl because you’re the perfect guy,” you breathed out, smiling at Joshua, who was now smiling softly at you.

“I know that sometimes you feel that it’s safer not to show your emotions, but as I said, you’re human. You’re entitled to feel and have every right to express them. I know you might find it much easier to ignore them and not deal with them, but sometimes, it’s not too bad to deal with them. All I want to say is that Joshua, if you ever need anything, a hug, a chocolate bar or a lame joke to cheer you up! Then I’m here! You’re one of my closest friends, and I never want to see you upset!” You exclaimed, pausing to take another breath.

“I love you, Joshua, and before I sort of end this obnoxiously long confession, I want to say that I know you felt that sometimes you weren’t good enough. I want to remind you that you are! You’re good enough, better, and stronger than you give yourself credit for! Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you exhaled, taking a breath before continuing.

“So all that being said, I guess I’m trying to say something else too,” you mumbled suddenly, feeling your confidence drain out of your body, and Joshua nodded to you.

“What would that be?” Joshua asked, placing his hand on yours. You smiled at him as you decided to leap of faith and inch closer to him.

“I…” you gulped before moving closer. You decided kissing him would be easier than telling him you were head over heels in love with him.

You were about to place your lips on his when you heard her voice,

“Shua, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nia called out, and you looked at Joshua with hurt and betrayal filling your chest.

You got up and stumbled as you tried to move as far away as possible from him.

You could bear your soul to him. You could tell him that you’d take a bullet for him, and you’d still never be enough for him. You’d never be the girl for him. You’d never be her.

“Y/N, stop!” Joshua yelled out, and you shook your head at him.

“No, nothing; I just wanted to tell you you were great. I need to, uh, go. You go get your girl,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked, and you could feel hot tears start to run down your face.

You tripped as you tried to run back to the dorms. You were never going to be the one for him.

You weren’t her.

You’d never be her. That’s all you knew as you cried yourself to sleep tonight,

Joshua didn’t come to check in on you either that night, but you knew where he was. Balls deep in Nia, or so you could only guess from the moans you could hear across the halls. He was back with her.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, like most nights, but tonight, you’d stay away from him; he was not yours, and his heart would never be yours.

You barely spoke to Joshua after that night of the final gala. You found out later that he had gotten back together with Nia that night, and so you decided that you’d forget it. Forget him, and heal.

Divider: Five Years Later

Over the years, you thought you had healed, and you wouldn’t think about him every second, and you thought you were fine until your high school reunion.

“Joshua, you’re strong now,” you moaned as Joshua carried you into your hotel room.

Frankly, you weren’t sure how you got here. You had shown up for a university reunion, and you and Joshua picked up from where you left off. It was as if nothing had ever changed.

However, seven drinks in, Joshua started getting flirtier, and you reciprocated his every advance until you were in this exact position, his arms around your waist, waiting to fuck you. You hoped he wouldn’t pinch you at this moment because if it were a dream, you didn’t want to wake up.

“You know what I want to do?” He whispered hotly in your ear, making you shiver in his embrace. “I’m going to finger you, lick you and fuck you till you’re trembling and begging to cum, and even then, I won’t let you cum. I’ll cum inside you and leave you tied to this bed. Your clit throbbing and you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, but I’ll leave you here filled with my cum.”

You whimpered at his words; your pussy ached for his touch. You nodded meekly at him.

Joshua slowly undressed you. He hissed when he saw your swollen pussy lips. He moaned at the scent of your arousal and traced a finger from your clit to your entrance. Gathering the arousal he collected from that simple touch, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked and moaned in approval.

“You taste so good for me, pretty girl.”

He stood up and slid off his clothes, his tanned and toned body, his hard cock long and thick. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you.

He placed his hands on your chest, massaging your breasts, making you moan. You didn’t wear a bra, so he felt your nipples harden and groaned in approval.

He slid your top up, exposed your breasts, took one nipple in his mouth and began to suck gently. He then picked up his pace and started to bite and tug at your hardened nipples.

You tried so hard to keep your mouth shut, but his mouth felt so good. You let out a soft moan. This didn’t go undetected by him. He slapped your now exposed clit. Your hips thrust up in response.

His mouth left your chest, and he moved his mouth to your dripping cunt. He started kissing your inner thighs, darting his tongue out and licking every part of you except your aching cunt.

You tried to move in an attempt to get his mouth onto your pussy. He slapped your clit again, except this time, he followed it up by inserting his long finger inside your pussy. You tried to suppress a moan, but it was too much, and you needed him to fuck you senseless.

“Baby girl, I see that you just don’t want to listen,” he said as he inserted another digit. He curled his fingers upright against your g-spot and started moving his wrist up and down. “So make all the noise you want, but you cannot cum.”

He continued his relentless pace and assault on your pussy. He leaned his head down and finally put his tongue on your clit, and you thought you were going to cum right then and there.

His tongue flicked at your clit, before he enclosed his mouth on it, and you lost it. You couldn’t control it, and you came undone on his tongue and fingers. Joshua growled at your release but didn’t ease up on his movements and kept sucking at your now over-sensitive clit.

He removed his mouth from your pussy, but he didn’t ease up with his fingers. He added a third digit and fucked you until you squirted onto his hands. It wasn’t long before the overstimulation turned into pleasure, and you found yourself cumming on his tongue.

You didn’t know how he could make you come undone so quickly and easily. You were shaking and trembling, tears of pleasure rolling down your face.

You couldn’t even coherently mumble out a word or move. You felt so good, and your pussy was still throbbing, and yet you ached for more.

Without letting you get more than a minute to recover, Joshua pushed his length inside you. He let out a growl and proceeded to fuck you, setting a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, his thick cock hitting the right spots each time. He pulled out of you, and you moaned at the loss of contact.

He pushed himself into your dripping and aching pussy. At this point, he was just chasing his release. You finally used your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you into the sheets, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper.

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts got more uneven. To tease him further, you clenched your pussy around his cock.

Oh, he was pissed.

“Baby girl, is that hard for you to listen?” His hand went to your neck, gently choking you, and he continued fucking you. The breath play only made you reach your high again, and he wasn’t far off either.

He came inside your pussy and stayed still for a little bit. Then pulled out gently, not letting his cum spill out. He moved his body down yours until his mouth reached yours again and stuck his tongue into your cunt and lapped at it until you came again, and he cleaned his cum out from you.

Swallowing, he moved up and pulled you into his arms, and you both lay on the bed.

“How are you, baby? I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“Was so good.” You were still basking in the afterglow of your session.

You woke up later that night feeling rather hungry.

Sex does that, you assumed. You noticed Joshua was awake and scrolling through his phone.

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite or something? I’m starving,” you asked, and Joshua sighed, taking a sip of the water you left by the bedside.

“This was a hookup, Y/N; please don’t read into it,” Joshua answered bluntly, and you stood up and walked to find his clothes and threw them at him.

“It was a fucking question, Joshua!” you yelled.

“I know not to hope with you anymore, but I can’t help if my heart doesn’t want to listen. But tonight, you showed me that you’re done, so I want you out,” you snarled, and Joshua nodded, getting dressed quickly and walking out of your door and crushing your heart again.

But that night was long gone, and so was he.

You noticed a heavily decorated envelope sitting on your desk later that evening. You must have collected the mail and not bothered sorting through it. You opened the envelope and held your breath when you saw an invite to Joshua’s wedding.

Joshua weds Yuri the card read, and for once, you felt pain, but unlike the past, it felt dull. It didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the heart.

You RSVPed as soon as possible. You wanted to go.

So, you did. You watched the ceremony, and the happy couple exchanged their vows, and you approached Joshua to talk outside after the reception.

“I need to talk to you. I didn’t invite you to hurt you. I invited you because you’re a friend,” he started to say, and you nodded.

“Then, as a friend, I need you to listen to me one last time,” you pleaded.

Joshua nodded as he sat down on the bench outside the castle, his actions reminiscent of the time you confessed to him, but this time, it’d be different because you were different. Everything was different now.

“Look, thank you for being so brave throughout the wedding. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Joshua started to say.

You had to take a deep breath to not scoff at his words. Did he still think you were in love with him after all these years?

Truthfully, you will always love him. He was your first love. How could you ever forget him? How could you forget the nights when he’d pleasure you and look at you like you were the only one in the world? But more importantly, how could you forget the nights when he held you while you cried, wiped away every tear and kissed away every insecurity? How could you forget the boy who made you feel beautiful for the first time?

But most importantly, how could you ever be the boy who kept breaking your heart repeatedly, and yet you kept forgiving him because you hoped that one day he’d wake up and realise that he loved you too?

But it was too late for all of that.

You were standing at his wedding, well outside the chapel, and you watched the entire night as Joshua exchanged his vows with someone who was not you. Your eyes moved to his left hand and zeroed in on the gold band that adorned his long finger, his ring finger. The finger that he’d always leave empty when he wore jewellery because he said he was saving it for someone special, and tonight, he finally found that someone special.

You could never forget Joshua. But it had been ten years, and now you could look at him with a mixture of feelings, hurt, regret, and a multitude of negative emotions. But tonight, what consumed you wasn’t all bad. You also felt free.

Tonight, Joshua gave his word to be with Yuri for the rest of his life and vowed never to leave her, and all while doing that, you felt the shackles of being bound to him loosening.

“I was about to confess to you after graduation seven years ago. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Not that I think I needed to, I was babbling away how perfect you were, but then she came, and I felt like no matter what I did, there would never be a right time to tell you I love you,” you sighed, smiling at him.

“Over the years, I took it as a sign from the universe; maybe it protected me because the universe knew you’d never love me back, not how I did. After that hookup at the hotel, I said we should grab a bite. The first thing you said to me was that I shouldn’t mistake a hookup for feelings and that Joshua was when I realised that there would be no universe where you’d be mine,” you explained, making Joshua’s expression harden.

“This is my wedding night; I do not need to hear you say something shitty to me on what is the happiest day of my life,” he started to say, raising his voice, and you sighed, sitting down next to him.

“Let me finish,” you said, and Joshua pouted before nodding. “I’m not blaming you, Joshua. Yes, did we do stupid things that made me overthink and convince myself I had a chance, even if it was a glimmer of hope? Sure. But, all you ever were to me was a friend; you were my best friend, and you carried out your duties as a friend,” you explained, placing a hand on his, making him look at you.

“I fell in love with you, Joshua, but that’s not on you. I fell for the tall, gangly boy I met when I was 18, putting you on a pedestal and myself on the back burner. But tonight… Watching you getting married and exchanging your vows didn’t hurt the way I expected it to. It felt liberating,” you continued, making Joshua sigh as he withdrew his hand from you.

“We grew apart a lot, and it helped. It helped me think of you less, and over time, I guess I stopped being in love with you. And tonight, something clicked,” you said, turning to Joshua, who had an unreadable expression.

“What was that?” Joshua asked.

“I fell out of love with you, Joshua. I’ll always care for you, and hell, I’ll always love you, but Joshua, I’m no longer in love with you,” you admitted.

It was true.

Ten years ago, you tied an invisible string and pulled Joshua into your heart, where he stayed for ten years. He broke your heart so many times. Still, you kept him in there, holding onto hope. But tonight, when he said, “I do”, you felt that string lose its strength, inevitably weighed down and frayed over the last ten years, and tonight, it didn’t snap. It just—like your love—let go.

You let go of Joshua, and in turn, you set yourself free. Free from the ‘what ifs’, the nights where you’d cry into your pillow, wishing you were in his arms at night, but you weren’t awake. You laid awake at night thinking of him for so many years, and you felt like you could finally let go tonight.

“You will always have a special place in my heart, but how I loved you was dangerous and harmful. I put you above everyone and myself. I lost myself loving you, and I lost myself trying to be the girl you could love. But over the years and growing up, I realised that sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And fuck, ten years ago, or even five years ago, that sentiment, the meant-to-be bullshit, would fuck me off, but tonight, I get it,” you explained, feeling tears of relief pool in your eyes.

“I loved you deeply and immensely, but it didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I learned one thing, I’m capable of loving, and one day, I know I’ll get that love back, the kind of love I had for you, undying and unyielding,” you finished off looking at Joshua who smiled sadly at you.

“When did you grow up so much?” Joshua chuckled, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled at him and shrugged.

“Time heals everything, Joshua. I want the best for you. I do. I want you to have the most amazing married life. Never break her heart. Never go to bed mad at each other. Always tell each other you love each other,” you babbled until you felt a tug on your hand, making you look at Joshua.

“I couldn’t force myself to love you the way you loved me, and I won’t say I’m sorry for that, but I’m sorry for hurting you, seeking comfort in you for my selfish needs. You’re so special to me. You were my first friend in university; we have a history, and I want us to maintain that friendship. I want us to grow old as friends and laugh about this memory while we bitch about how annoying our spouses can be,” Joshua said, making you laugh.

It was an honest laugh. It wasn’t forced. It was real. You were healing.

“I’ll take you up on that, but tonight, I’m setting myself free, and you, Joshua, congratulations,” you said, standing up and holding out your arms for a hug.

Joshua smiled softly at you as he pulled you into a hug, and you felt like your broken parts were being squished tightly together and being fixed, but you didn’t need to be fixed.

You just needed to heal.

You kicked off your heels as you entered your apartment later that night, smiling. You didn’t feel broken or upset; you felt free.

Your eyes zeroed in on the notice board in your living room, where you had put up pictures of special people in your life.

You looked at the one you had of Joshua. You took it one night, probably in your first year of university when you started falling in love with him. But it was just him. All the other photos you had with your friends were selfies of you and your friend. Only Joshua was solo, in a way; you kept it that way for so long because, for so long, you held on to the hope that he would one day love you back, and then you could stick a couple’s selfie there.

You smiled at his photo.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, pulled his photo off your notice board, and replaced it with the Polaroid from the wedding. It was one the happy couple sent out to everyone.

You smiled at the photo in your hand. Joshua would always be that story you could tell ten years later, but tonight, for the first time in a long while, you could sleep without agonising over the ‘what ifs.’ You locked away Joshua’s picture in a drawer where you knew you couldn’t find it even if you tried.

You smiled again at the photo of him and Yuri as you turned around and got ready to sleep. For the first time in a long time, as you lay in bed that night, you didn’t punish yourself, thinking you weren’t enough, assuming you missed every moment. You went to bed knowing that you had a great love. It just wasn’t a perfect love story.

But it was okay.

And you would be, too.

#seventeen fic #seventeen smut #joshua fic #joshua smut #svthub #kvanit

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zoewrites · 1 year ago

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Stupid Girl (Joel Miller x F!Reader) 18+

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, dirty talk, daddy kink, spit kink, pet names, creampie, unprotected and rough sex, mean joel, shame, degradation, choking

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I've been busier than ever with work this summer and haven't had any time to write. I have 3 Joel fics in the works currently, including a part 2 to Your Price. Thanks for being patient with me and please accept this mean!Joel smut that I quickly came up with on my first day off in ages. :)

You’d never seen Joel this angry, not with you. His fingers dug sharply into the flesh of your arms as he held you against the wall, seething as he asked you what the hell you’d been thinking.

Apparently he didn’t like your answer, because the moment you whimpered, “I don’t know,” his jaw tightened and his eyes grew even darker. They searched your own for any signs of understanding or remorse but all he saw was your brewing anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He was in your face, so close you could feel the heat of his breath, his low tone daring you to challenge his authority. It made you wince, made you feel so small.

“Think I do this for fun? Spend all my damn time teachin’ you how to survive for fun? Just for you to act stupid and careless? Never thought you were this goddamn brainless,” Joel growled, the pinch of his fingers on your skin stung but he didn’t let up, he needed you to understand the seriousness, that keeping you alive wasn’t a joke to him. He pressed closer, his chest only inches away from yours.

“You wanna die out there?! Because that’s what happens when little girls like you start actin’ high and mighty, actin’ like you’re above listening to me when I tell you what the fuck to do!” He berates as tears begin to form in your eyes.

Your hands meet his chest, shoving him back with all the force you could muster, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the words to defend yourself.

“Don’t speak to me like that,” You spit, your hands still pressed against his chest, creating space between you to see his anger fully, “I’m not a child and you’re not my fucking dad.”

His eyes narrow, “You think I like treating you like this? Like yelling at you?” He laughs humorlessly, “I need you to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull, sweetheart. You can’t afford to make stupid mistakes like that.”

“No,” You hiss meanly, hastily wiping tears from your cheeks and feeling the red-hot rage flaring within you, “I think you do like it. I think you get off on this.”

His breathing becomes heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your words hit him. A complex array of emotions dance across his features - fury, disbelief, something darker…

"Oh yeah?" he grits out, "I get off on being mean, acting like your fucking dad? You think you've got me all figured out?" His words are laced with venom and suddenly the tension is palpable. Your stomach drops. You begin to wonder if you’ve pushed too far. Joel is furious, and as scared as you are, a sick tinge of desire is beginning to fester deep within you.

“Joel,” His fingers grip so tightly that you grab at his hand and yelp, attempting to pry him off your bicep.

“Let me tell you something, girl,” You don’t realize you’re shaking until he presses you firmly against the wall, “You have no fucking idea. And maybe, just maybe, you do need someone to act like your fucking daddy to keep you in check."

His words hang in the air as he watches how flushed your face becomes. That shameful ache fermenting in your core demands your attention as you try with all your might to ignore it. You both breathe heavily for a moment, staring each other down. When his fingers finally loosen their grip, you let out an accidental whimper. The energy shifts as you watch Joel’s lips curl into an infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

“Think you’re the one who gets off to this,” His voice drips with dark amusement as you stand motionlessly, silently cursing yourself and your body’s reaction to his words.

“No,” You whisper. He doesn’t believe you.

"You like it when I call myself 'daddy'?" His fingers reach out to brush against your cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle after he’d just held you so roughly. It sends a shiver down your spine, your resolve wavering in the face of mounting lust. His proximity makes it impossible to ignore the magnetic pull between you, drawing you deeper into the dangerous game you've both been playing.

"You like when I’m mean,” He taunts, “You're not as innocent as you pretend to be, are you?”

You hate him, you tell yourself. You hate him for doing this, for making you feel so pathetic. Your eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to ignore the burning as he’s being so fucking mean to you. He waits for your response, letting his hand move from your cheek down your jaw, tilting your face upwards until you finally open your eyes again.

“No,” You scowl at him, hating the way your eyes begin to water once more. You swing your arm up, ready to shove at him again, but he catches it quickly and spins you around, pinning you face-first against the wall.

“Don’t,” Joel growls into the back of your head and you gasp, his body presses to yours, allowing you little room to wonder what's being shoved against your ass.

"I could let go right now," He noses at your neck, “but you don’t want me to.”

It’s not a question. He knows.

Fuck.

And you don’t want him to let up. But it would kill you to admit it. You think you might actually disintegrate if you had to admit it. That Joel calling himself daddy and speaking down to you had you absolutely dripping.

You feel his pleased, breathy little chuckle against your neck when you remain silent, not denying how badly you want it.

“That’s what I thought.”

"...Shit," you breathe, embarrassed and furious and so, so turned on, as you finally allow yourself to press back against him. Without hesitation, he’s shoving his hand down the front of your pants to where you need him most. The rough pads of his fingertips run along your wet slit and you fucking whine.

“Christ,” he practically groans as his fingers glide against you, feeling how shamefully slick you are, “and here I thought you hated me.”

“I do,” You grasp desperately at his wrist.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby,” You know he’s grinning behind you, “All I’ve done is shove ya ‘round a little.”

“Oh my god,” You gasp as he moves a finger inside of you.

“Need daddy to put ya in your place, huh?” His free hand snakes its way up the back of your neck and into your hair. He gets a firm grip and pulls you back from the wall to the couch a few feet away. He pulls his hand out of your panties and shoves you over the armrest with your face pressed into the seat cushions.

His hand's still fisted tightly in your hair as he grinds himself against you. The friction is so good and it drags out a breathy moan that you can't hold in any longer. So good that you could probably cum just like this but Joel is losing patience and pulls back.

His hand leaves your hair and you sneak a glance back. What you see knocks the air out of your lungs because Joel is shoving his pants down just enough to pull his cock out. And he’s big. He looks hungry and disheveled and you’re about to cry again from the anticipation of it all. His stupidly smug face has you wanting to hit him again but you want him inside you more as he pulls your pants down your thighs and yanks your soaked panties to the side.

When he presses the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance, you fully register that you’re about to fuck Joel, you’re really about to let Joel Miller of all people wreck you. And then when he finally slides into you, deeper than you’ve ever felt, your thoughts fucking dissolve.

He wastes no time, immediately setting a brutally fast pace, sliding his hand back into your hair and yanking your head back.

“Should’ve told me this is what you needed,” His voice hoarse as he slams into you, “needed the stupidity fucked outta ya.”

He feels you shiver beneath him and he laughs cruelly. There’s no holding your moans back now, with his hips snapping hard against yours and his degrading words. There’s no hiding how it’s affecting you as you soak his cock. The pornographic sounds of it have your entire body burning. Your eyes glazed over, mouth gaped open, you’re barely conscious of the noises you’re making.

"Fuckin pathetic,” his grip in your hair tightens and he uses it as leverage to fuck you even rougher, “Letting daddy fuck you like this. God, you’re really lovin’ this, aren’t ya?”

He’s right. You do. He's relentless, his cock so thick it aches. He keeps fucking into you like this, spitting filth and mocking you, until you feel your climax approaching.

“Joel-fuck, I- mmmnnnn-” Your eyes squeeze shut as your face is buried into the cushion.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to be done already,” He grunts out as you gasp, trying to reach back for the hand that’s in your hair, “C'mon, call me what you really want to.”

“D-aaaaaaah!” You babble and cry as he swiftly pulls out and flips you onto your back. He shoves back into you unceremoniously, one hand clawing at your hip, keeping you in place as he sets a brutal pace yet again. The other hand wraps around your throat.

He leans forward into your face, you can see the sweat glistening on the slope of his nose and forehead, “Say it.”

“Daddy!” You clench around him, a fresh wave of arousal sending you barreling toward climax again.

"Jesus,” He’s panting as hard as you now, rutting deep into you, making you beg for mercy.

“Please,” you scream, agonizingly close to cumming.

Fingers digging deep into your hips, the pressure on your neck squeezing a little harder, he’s practically snarling, "You’re drooling, baby.”

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he says through gritted teeth, fingers clamping down on your throat and causing your jaw to drop in search of air. He spits viciously onto your tongue and you have no choice but to swallow it up while he grins.

“Gonna fuck your throat next time too, you stupid slut,” He groans, his head tossed back in pleasure, “teach ya a real lesson.”

You should punch him. You should push him off and never let him touch you again. You should be humiliated. Instead you’re cumming. Hard. And you’re calling him daddy. Loudly. You faintly think you hear Joel laughing at you, but its impossible to tell when your eyes are rolled back and wave after wave of searing hot pleasure is rolling through you.

You’re squeezing him so tightly, clenching and pulsing as your orgasm rips through you. That’s what does it for Joel, his hand leaves your neck and replaces it with his mouth. His teeth grazing your skin, muffling a long, loud moan. It almost sounds like he’s in pain as his hips stutter, his cock pressed as deep as it can possibly be, and then you feel the hot throb of him gushing into you.

You have no idea how much time has passed before you finally come down from your high and Joel’s finished filling you up. He’s still covering you, his face in the crook of your neck, and you begin to realize what the fuck you’ve just done. You turn your head away when he pulls himself back up.

You feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look up as his cum dribbles out of you onto the couch seat.

He tucks himself back into his pants before leaning back over you and gripping your chin roughly, forcing you to look him in his cold, dark eyes, "remember that you made me do that… try thinking next time before you fuck up and put us in danger like that again."

With that, he walks away, leaving you sore and full of his cum.

taglist: @evyiione @fishingforpike @pedrosballsack

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfiction #daddy!joel miller

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unlikelypandahologram · 6 months ago

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Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

#if you're wondering why i didn't include the wfc trilogy it's because those shows fucking suck and i hate them LMAO #transformers #maccadams #megop #edited after the fact to include the new comics lol

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joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago

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Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel.

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?"

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away.

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies.

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him.

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours.

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove.

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?"

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him.

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making.

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you."

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck.

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt.

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck.

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?"

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair.

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure.

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply.

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief.

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world.

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes.

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved.

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster.

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled.

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned.

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back.

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss.

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

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ringsofsaturnnnn · 2 years ago

Text

— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 | 𝐚. 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: it’s no secret that most people see armin as a sweet, innocent little thing. i mean, how couldn’t you? his sweeter than honey smile, bright blue eyes, and gentle voice pulls everyone in! however, what happens when you end up finding out that little mr. perfect isn’t as nice as everyone thinks he is?

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 :: fem bodied reader, porn with a plot (kinda), manipulative!armin, jealous!armin, pervy!armin, mean!armin, ooc!armin, swearing, dark content as armin is kinda manipulative, armin sorta shames you for what you wear at one point, nsfw themes - armin jacking off to you, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, slight choking, light dacryphilia (armin likes seeing you cry), fingering, virgin reader, overstim, pet names/endearing terms (honey, baby, sweet girl, etc.), slight dumbification. all characters are aged up & are in college. if i missed anything just let me know!

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: this is my first time ever writing something like this so if it sucks i’m so sorry 😭. i really hope it makes sense.. i feel like the plot just kinda fell apart but oh well. i’ve just been having extreme brainrot for armin. big thanks to my friend @oyusumi for beta reading like.. half of this and inspiring me to finally post.

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

your head moved back and forth to the music playing through your headphones as you looked through your notes in the notebook in front of you. you had been studying nonstop for the upcoming german test, however, it seemed like all your studying was futile. you still couldn’t understand how to pronounce, nor spell, certain words. it was just getting frustrating because it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, you still just couldn’t get it.

letting out a groan, you ripped your headphones out of your ears and started packing your notes up. you needed to get out of the library. this studying was starting to drive you nuts. as you were packing, you heard someone’s voice behind you. turning, you saw your friend eren. “oh, hey eren.” you smiled as you shoved the last notebook in your bag.

“hey. you looked frustrated. do you need help with anything?” many people pegged eren as the stupid type who didn’t do his homework and was passing school by the skin of his teeth, which was ironic, because he was a great student. he practically had straight a’s with the occasional b+. “oh no, don’t worry about it. i was just getting frustrated while studying for the german test.” you shrugged as you swung your backpack over your shoulder and grabbed your phone.

“oh, here! let me help you,” eren sat down in the empty seat and looked at you. “well, come on.” giving him a hesitant glance, you sighed. “are you sure? i don’t want to be a bother..” he nodded and you couldn’t help but smile. “fine.” setting your bag down, you unzipped it and grabbed the notebook you were previously looking at.

unknowingly to the both of you, a certain blonde was watching you two out of the corner of his eye. he couldn’t stop the anger building inside of him. it should of been him helping you, not eren. armin was the brightest kid in school, no doubt. he was a straight a+ student who had a 4.0 gpa. sure, he spent most of his days studying, but it showed as almost every teacher favored him and wished every student was as bright as he was.

the sound of your laughter pulled armin from his thoughts. he looked up and saw your head resting against eren’s shoulder as you laughed at something he said. gripping his pencil tightly, he looked at the blank white paper, lined with blue stripes, in front of him. he just couldn’t think. couldn’t focus. not when you entered his mind.

armin was obsessed with you.

plain and simple. there was no other way to explain it. to others, and even you, his gestures were sweet. he was a true gentleman. he held doors open for you, walked you to your next class at the expense of being late to his own, gave you his notes if you missed something, and would even offered you his jacket if certain classrooms were too cold for you.

day after day, you never left armin’s thoughts. you were always on his mind, in more ways than one. what seems like a harmless crush continued to grow and grow until it turned into a deep infatuation with you. many would call this unhealthy, but to armin, it was perfectly fine. in his eyes, how couldn’t he be obsessed with you? everything you did was just perfect.

“armin? hey, armin!” shaking his head, armin looked up and saw eren. “you okay? i’ve been calling your name for a few minutes now.” eren chuckled and sat down next to his friend. “oh? yeah, i’m fine. just spaced out.” armin responded, adding a fake laugh at the end to sound more believable. he continued to speak with eren, growing tired of the small talk. he made up an excuse so he could leave and eren nodded. “mhm, see you later.”

getting up, armin headed towards the door of the library. something on the table that you had been sitting at caught his eye. stopping and looking, he saw your phone. he glanced around and made sure no one was looking before pocketing it and heading out.

once armin entered his room, he threw his bag to the side and immediately started examining your phone. hitting the power button, your lock screen lit up his face. it was a picture of you, armin, mikasa, and eren. he couldn’t stop the smile that toyed at the edge of his lips at the thought of you seeing his face every time you opened your phone.

he swiped up and the phone asked for a passcode. chuckling, he easily typed in the six-digit code to unlock your phone. he had seen you type the passcode in when you sat beside him at lunch one day. your face id hadn’t been working and you made a comment about nearly forgetting your passcode because you always used your face id.

the second he was in, he paused. this was wrong. he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. he needed to see what was on your phone. he needed to know that you were safe. clicking on your messages, he noticed that his conversation was pinned. his heart swelled at the thought. you had his conversation pinned. along with his, you had eren, mikasa, and the group chat all 4 of you shared pinned.

after he finished smiling about the fact that his conversation was pinned, he started reading your other messages. most of your conversations were, in his opinion, stupid. you mainly texted sasha about different recipes you had made or how she was doing on homework. your conversations with connie were basically him inappropriately flirting with you (which made armin quite upset) or telling stupid jokes back and forth. he occasionally asked you for answers to homework, which didn’t shock armin one bit. jean’s texts with you were dry and dull, nothing interesting there.

the conversations that caught his eye were your texts with mikasa and eren. since they were your good friends, you, of course, had more interesting messages with them. eren’s texts with you were mostly about hanging out and how you two were feeling. armin couldn’t help but feel a spike of jealousy. you never texted him about your feelings, so why did you go to eren? had he not proven that he was trustworthy enough? what made armin see red was the pictures eren had been sending you. shirtless pictures, him at the gym, pictures where his pants were hanging dangerously low on his hips. he was disgusted as he scrolled through the texts. you had told him more than once that you weren’t interested, so why wasn’t eren getting the fucking hint?

having enough of eren, he went to your conversation with mikasa. he felt himself calm down as he read your texts with her. you mainly talked about your struggles with certain classes (which armin made note of so he could help you later) and your feelings. he didn’t mind you talking to mikasa about your feelings because he knew that mikasa was very important to you and would offer you good advice.

just when he was about to be done snooping through your messages, he saw his name. scrolling up a little further, he couldn’t help but read what you said about him. his eyes quickly scanned the words, the smile on his face growing wider and wider with each passing second.

you had a crush on him?

he continued to stare at your messages with mikasa, not being able to pull his eyes away from that simple message. you, a beautiful, ethereal angel, had a crush on him? it was almost like a dream come true. armin even pinched himself a few times just to make sure he was seeing this correctly.

shaking his head, he finally swiped up and exited your messages. he scrolled through the pages on your phone, admiring your phone theme. he remembered you ranting about how long it took you to make it look as nice as it did. he looked through all your apps, less than impressed with some of them. why the heck did you need so many apps?

just as he was about to finish his snooping and call it a day, his mind wandered to your photos. should he? scrolling over to the photo icon on your homescreen, his finger hovered over it. he knew this was wrong but.. fuck it. he already had your phone, so why not? clicking the icon, he was immediately met with all your photos.

he gulped and regained his composure before starting to look through them. a lot of your photos were of your pets. of course they were though, you loved your pets. you had some pictures of different drinks or foods you got to have. different places you’ve visited. lots and lots of photos of you and your friends. swiping out of your camera roll, he looked at all your albums. you had.. a lot.

pets

yummy things

fun places

friends

the album that made him smile was called “armin.” he had his own album in your phone? clicking on it, it asked for face id, much to armin’s surprise. you could lock photo albums? it obviously denied him every time he tried to use his face. he was starting to grow frustrated before it asked to enter the passcode. smiling, he typed in the code. bingo.

the album opened up and revealed all the photos of you and armin and just armin, which gave him a satisfied smirk. eren didn’t have an album all to himself. he had finally managed to one-up eren.

he scrolled through the hundreds of photos, smiling and laughing at a few. he could recall almost every moment that had been frozen in time in these pictures. his favorite photo was the one where you were kissing his cheek. you two happened to be underneath some mistletoe that sasha had hung in a doorway. being teased by all your friends, you kissed his cheek while historia unknowingly took a picture.

his cheeks were flushed at the memory of your soft, warm lips against his skin. swiping out of that album, he saw one last one, hidden far behind the other albums. it was titled “n/a,” which he found odd. n/a meant not available or not applicable, which made no sense. those pictures were obviously available, so why put them in a folder entitled otherwise? clicking on it, he realized that this too was locked. sighing, he continued to be denied because of face id before being able to punch in the passcode.

when the album opened up, he jumped and turned red. this album was full of pictures of.. of you. however, not just any pictures, risky pictures. in some pictures you were in nothing but a bra and underwear. in other photos you used your hair to cover your (obviously) bare chest. he continued to scroll through these photos, his cheeks becoming embarrassingly warm. he couldn’t deny that he was extremely turned on.

it wasn’t long before his pants felt uncomfortably tight. unbuckling his belt, he slowly pulled his jeans down to his knees and slipped his hand into his underwear, feeling how hard he was. “oh shit..” he mumbled before slipping his underwear down as well, allowing his cock to spring free.

gently rubbing his thumb over the tip, he let out a small gasp. “mmm, fuck!” he whined. he continued to use his thumb to spread pre-cum all over his tip and down the rest of his length. he couldn’t help it, it just felt so good. as he did this, armin let his thoughts wander. he imagined it was you. you sitting on your knees in front of him, teasing him with your fingers. your mouth. your tongue.

with a quiet moan of your name, he started rubbing himself due to how uncomfortably hard he was. “oh.. oh please..” he squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to imagine you pleasuring him. bucking his hips into his fist, his moans continued to rise in volume. his cheeks were flushed as his mouth hung open ever so slightly. his pace became more and more erratic the more he pumped his length.

opening his eyes, he clicked on a random picture in the photo album. it just happened to be a picture of you squeezing your boobs together, revealing your cleavage. it wasn’t long before he felt his stomach tighten. “m-m’ gonna cum!” he cried out, even though no one could hear him. loud whines left his soft pink lips as white ropes painted his stomach. “oh, please,” he whimpered as he slowly came down from his high. armin rubbed his sensitive tip with thumb and looked down at his stomach, watching it rise and fall with his breathing. although armin didn’t work out as frequently as eren did, he still had a decently chiseled chest and well-defined abs. a few strands of cum dripped down his abs towards his v-line.

he frowned as he looked at the picture on the phone screen. he wished he could have came on your chest, or inside of you, instead of his stomach, but for now, it would have to do. armin glanced at your phone screen one last time before he shut it off, watching as the screen turned black. he pulled his pants up before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. when he felt his feet hit the cold tile, he flipped the light switch on before heading towards his shower. he listened to the water thunder against the plastered shower floor before starting to disrobe.

once he had rid himself of all his clothes, he opened the shower door and stepped in. the warm water immediately welcomed him like a hug, which armin was grateful for. running his hands through his hair, he felt his once tense muscles start to finally relax. he knew that once he got out of the shower, he’d have a little more fun with your phone before returning it to you the next morning.

you had spent the whole rest of the night and some of the morning worrying about your phone. “shit, shit, shit!” you cried as you tore your room apart for the umpteenth time. “where is it?!” it honestly looked like a tornado had hit your room. clothes were thrown everywhere, blankets askew, pillows piled up in a random corner, it looked like a royal trainwreck, that was for sure.

sitting on your bed, you buried your head in your hands and groaned. “FUCK!” you growled angrily. how could you have been so stupid? you could have swore you had your phone when you left.. wait. looking up and blinking, you let out yet another groan. you never grabbed your phone off the table once eren sat down. in an attempt to let out some anger, you grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and chucked it at the wall. you listened to it hit the wall before watching it fall to the ground.

you continued to wallow in anger for a bit before deciding to get up and get ready for school. maybe it was still on the table. you highly doubted it, but you never knew, or, maybe eren grabbed it. as you came up with scenarios in your head, your tension started to ease a little bit.

as you finished putting your stuff in your locker, you saw your good friend armin walk up to you. “oh, hey armin!” you flashed him a bright smile, watching as his pale cheeks turned pink. “hi. uhm, i just wanted to uh, give this to you,” armin reached into his pocket and pulled your phone out. he held it out to you, a soft smile gracing his delicate features. “i thought you might want it back.”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little before taking it. “i’ve been looking for this everywhere! thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed. you quickly shut your locker door before giving him a big hug. he stiffened at first, but quickly melted into your embrace. armin loved your hugs. he loved your touch. he loved you.

“where was it?!” you asked as you pulled away. armin wished the hug would have lasted longer, but he didn’t complain. “oh, it was on the table you were studying at. i saw it when i went to leave. i charged it for you.” he flashed you a smile, revealing his perfect white teeth. now it was your turn to blush. you never understood how someone could be so.. so perfect.

“i really, really appreciate that armin. you’re too sweet.” his heart felt warm and fuzzy at your compliment, however, in the back of his mind, worry consumed him. would you still think he was sweet if you figured out he had managed to share your hidden album with himself? would you still find him sweet if you knew he downloaded all your pictures to his computer hard drive so he could fuck his fist every night to it?

the sound of the bell ringing pulled him from his worry-ridden thoughts. shaking his head, he watched as you adjusted the books in your arms. “i’ll walk you to your first class.” his blonde hair covered his forehead and reached down to his eyes. “such a gentleman.” you laughed before starting to walk away.

a few weeks had passed since armin had snooped through your phone. since then, he managed to grow closer to you, which led to you inviting him over more frequently, which in turn, made his obsession grow more and more. there were times where you left him at your place while you went and got take out food or some coffee from your favorite shared café. little did you know that he used this time to snoop through your room. he managed to find your diary, which he would read before carefully placing it back where it was. other times he would look through your dresser, staring at all your lingerie sets. oh how he wished he could just rip them off of your body, leaving pretty red marks on your oh so delicate skin. his mouth always salivated at the thought.

his most recent infatuation was giving you his hoodies. not only were they oversized on you (which he found incredibly adorable and hot at the same time), whenever you returned them they smelled like you, which drove him crazy. your scent was so incredibly intoxicating to him. to armin, your scent was a mixture of strawberries, lemon, and lavender. it wasn’t long before he became addicted.

night after night he would buck his hips into his fist while wearing the hoodies that smelled like you. he would stare at your pictures, chanting your name like a mantra while he came all over his hand. he would go two or three rounds, falling asleep with his hand covered in his cum.

“hey armin, can you come here for a second?” the two of you had been doing homework for the past few hours. you were wearing shorts that were way too short for you and one of armin’s hoodies that he had so graciously let you borrow. “of course, give me one second,” he quickly finished writing something down before getting up and coming to sit on the couch with you. “what’s up?”

you moved closer to him, causing a small blush to appear on armin’s cheeks. “well, i’m having trouble with this math problem. i was wondering if you could help me?” the way you looked at him through your lashes, armin could have swore he about creamed his pants right then and there. “oh uhm, uh sure!” he stuttered.

you leaned down and grabbed your textbook before setting it in his lap, allowing your hand to linger on his thigh a little longer before pulling it away. armin could have swore that you were trying to give him a heart attack. every part of his body felt like it was on fire. he was just. so. warm.

“so, where do i start?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts. shaking his head, he looked at the book. for some reason, nothing was registering to him. his eyes saw the ink on the page, but his brain couldn’t understand what it was asking. “you start with.. with..” every time armin spoke, his voice just trailed off. “armin, are you feeling alright?” he felt your palm on his forehead, sending yet another wave of heat coursing through him. “yes! i’m just fine..” he carefully grabbed your hand and put it on his thigh.

he couldn’t deny the tent in his pants, but he was praying you wouldn’t notice. “fuck.. i’m so attracted to you.” he mumbled under his breath. “what did you sa-,” within a second he had picked you up and set you in his lap, forcing you to look at him. “a-armin?!” you were taken aback by his sudden actions, but you weren’t gonna lie, you were slightly turned on.

“how long are you gonna play stupid, huh?” he grunted. shaking your head, you just looked at him. “what do you mean?” confusion swarmed your brain. play stupid? how were you playing stupid? how did you even get to this point? all you wanted was help with a simple math problem!

“what do you mean,” he mocked. “seriously? don’t fuck with me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “how long were you gonna sit here and fucking tease me? don’t think i didn’t notice your outfit. those shorts that are obviously too fucking short for you. your ass is practically hanging out of them. and my hoodie? i bet you don’t have anything on underneath it.” it was like armin had just flipped a switch. your once kind, innocent, friend was now basically degrading you for your choice in outfit.

“i, i really don’t get what you mean. armin i just.. i was just trying to be cozy i really wasn’t trying to dress like a slut or anything-“ words continued to pour out of your mouth as you became painfully aware of his growing erection. “please, i’m sorry, i’ll go change..”

“no.” his voice was low, yet demanding. “you wanna dress like a slut? fine, i’ll fuck you like a slut.” your hands were starting to tremble at his words. why was he being so mean? although his rough words were turning you on, you were still soft at heart. you could feel your eyes stinging as he continued to go on, telling you how much of a whore you were. “s-stop it. stop being so mean..” your voice quivered as tears dripped down your cheeks.

you felt his hand cup your cheek as he wiped your tears. “oh honey, i’m not trying to mean. i just love you,” his voice was sickeningly sweet. “i just want you to know how mean the real world is. how if you dress like this,” he motioned to your outfit, “you’ll be called a whore. but it’s okay baby, you’re not a whore. you’re a good girl, right?” you quickly nodded, sniffling a little. “that’s what i thought.”

he wiped the new tears that had fallen down your soft cheeks before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’re my good girl, right?” he pulled back and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for a response. shaking your head, your voice trembled as you spoke. “mhm.. i’m your good girl.” an evil smile crossed armin’s face at your words. “of course you are.”

he moved his hand from your cheek to the hem of his hoodie. gently toying with the edge, he started to pull it up. he was immediately met with your skin, which left him with a satisfied smirk. “i was right, baby. you aren’t wearing anything underneath my hoodie.” he chuckled as he pulled it completely off of you. looking away, you tried to cover yourself. “ah, ah, ah, you’re not gonna hide from me are you? i love you, so why would you hide from me?”

his voice was like a trap. the second you heard it, you were stuck. he could always manage to get into your head. he would manipulate you, but part of you didn’t care. you craved his attention just as much as he craved yours. you needed armin just like he needed you, so why were you so scared of him in this moment?

“hey. i asked you a question pretty girl.” armin’s voice cut through your thoughts. looking at him, fear suddenly overtook you. this wasn’t your armin, was it? how.. how could it be? your armin held doors open for you. your armin walked you to class and locked pinkies with you when you were nervous. your armin gave you his jackets in cold classrooms, even if it meant he’d be freezing for the rest of the class period.

“quit. fucking. spacing. out.” armin wrapped his hand around your throat, gently squeezing to gain your attention once more. gasping, you weakly tried to pull his hand off your throat. “armin, you’re scaring me..” once the words left your mouth, his eyes softened and he immediately removed his hand. “oh honey, i’m not trying to scare you. i promise. i’m just trying to get your attention,” he brought your trembling body closer to his. “i wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

you didn’t realize how much you were shaking until armin held you against his steady body. more and more tears were slipping down your cheeks and were now wetting down his shirt. as he hugged your body closer to his, he unhooked your bra, allowing your breasts free of their constraints. “let me take care of you.” he whispered in your ear. nodding, you allowed him to carry you towards your bed.

thoughts swarmed your mind as armin gently set you down on your unmade bed. he made quick work of ridding you of your shorts and underwear. “who made you this wet baby?” he teased, watching as your cheeks turned a shade of pink. you covered your face with your hands, too embarrassed to say anything. “honey, i’m talking to you. now, answer me.” his voice was low when he spoke.

“y-you did, armin..” your voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper. “be louder. i can’t hear you.” he remarked. shaking your head, you couldn’t bring yourself to be any louder. suddenly, he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. he got all up in your face, your noses almost touching. “fucking say it.” he growled, his hot breath fanning your face. fear coursed through your veins as you spoke quickly, afraid of upsetting him even more. “y-you did! you made me this wet, armin!” your voice was louder now, which brought a satisfied smirk to his face. “atta girl. now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

you shook your head as armin used his middle and ring fingers to gather some of your slick. you bit your tongue, trying to suppress the moan building in your throat. using his thumb, he started to rub your clit. “let me hear those pretty noises of yours, liebling.” his slow, lazy circles on your clit started to get quicker and quicker, causing you to let out a whine. “armin.. armin wait!” truth be told, you had never done this before. and by this, you meant any of this. you had never masturbated. never had sex. sure, you read stories, watched porn, and listened to your friends talk about it, but you’d never done it.

“aw baby, what’s wrong?” he chuckled. he didn’t stop his ministrations, which caused you to whine. you tried to push him away, but it was to no avail. “i-i’ve never done this before..” you mumbled under your breath. “hm?” armin hummed as he sped his fingers up. “i-i’ve never done this!” you cried, your legs starting to shake a little. a shit-eating grin crossed armin’s features as he pulled his fingers away. it felt like you could finally catch your breath as your erratic breathing started to settle. sliding his fingers into his mouth, he sighed, satisfied. you tasted fucking heavenly.

closing your legs, you tried to sit up, only for armin to pin you back down again. he laughed in your face, the warmth of his body radiating off of him. “oh, my sweet, sweet schatzi, you’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you? such a good fucking girl, waiting for me. you wanted me to take your virginity, didn’t you? you knew nobody else could please you like i would.” a feeling of possessiveness coursed through armin as he looked down at your features. you were made for him. now that he had you, he’d never let you go.

you were trembling underneath armin as he slowly started kissing down your body. as he did this, he started unbuckling his belt, the noise echoing loudly in your ears. your body felt like it was on fire as armin continued to kiss your delicate skin. kicking his pants to the side, armin stopped at your plush thighs and looked up. “you look so fucking perfect like this.” he mumbled before spreading your legs. he looked at your sopping cunt, a look of hunger in his baby blue eyes.

“i just know i’m gonna become addicted to you, more so than i already am of course..” he whispered before kissing your inner thigh. he gently nipped at the skin, causing you to squeal and try to move away from him. “stay still, damnit.” he huffed before using one of his arms to pin your waist down. he gingerly placed a kiss over the spot he bit before moving towards you dripping wet cunt. armin carefully licked a stripe up your soaking hole, relishing in the taste. it tasted like heaven to him.

he listened as you gasped at the feeling of his tongue being pressed against you. you didn’t know how to respond. it felt so weird. this was nothing like how any of your friends described it. your bare chest rose and fell as armin continued to kitten lick your cunt. his nose bumped against your clit, causing you to moan. “a-armin!” you cried as you allowed one of your hands to grasp his soft, blonde hair. he smirked before moving his mouth away. you looked down at him, his mouth covered in your essence. your cheeks felt as if they were on fire as he moved his free hand down towards your messy cunt.

you felt his fingers press against your hole, causing your eyes to widen. “w-wait!” you weren’t going to lie, you were scared. “it’s okay baby, i’ve got you. just relax.” he smiled before pushing his middle finger into you. your walls clenched around him, causing him to smirk. you were so damn tight. he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you. if you were squeezing his finger this much, just imagine how much you’d squeeze his dick.

“armin.. it feels weird..” you whimpered. “it’s okay baby. you just have to relax. you have to trust me.” he started pumping his finger in and out, trying to get you used to the feeling. the lewd noises had you gasping for air. “armin, please..” tears welled in your eyes again as you carefully bucked your hips a little. “there you go.” he cooed before carefully adding another finger. you felt your body start to relax as pleasure overtook your senses. “oh shit..” you mumbled.

armin could tell that you were finally starting to relax, which made him happy. he slowly started to speed his fingers up before leaning down and sucking on your clit. he watched as your mouth fell open and you searched for something to grab. “oh fuck! a-armin!” your legs started to shake a little, not used to this kind of pleasure. he hummed against your clit, curling his fingers to try and find that one spot inside of you. while he got you off on his fingers, he bucked his hips into the mattress, trying to give himself some sort of relief.

“please, please,” you whispered under your breath. it wasn’t long before you felt a weird pressure building in your lower stomach. “a-armin, stop. i feel weird! please stop..” you whimpered, pulling at the sheets. your hips lifted off the bed a little as you tried to get him to slow his ministrations. he pulled away from your clit and looked at you, his fingers speeding up yet again. he had stopped grinding his hips into the mattress now to help him focus on your climax. “it’s okay, honey. you’re gonna cum. just cum on my fingers. make a mess on them.” he smirked as you gasped one last time before cumming. your legs were shaking as tears flowed down your face. you weren’t used to these feelings, this pleasure.

withdrawing his fingers from you, armin immediately brought them to his lips and started to suck on them. you were so fucking addictive. he saw that your folds were glistening with cum, making his smirk grow wider. he reinserted his fingers into you and started pumping them back in and out. you tried to push his hand away, feeling overstimulated. armin ignored you and continued to finger you. while he did this, he slowly slipped his boxers off and threw them next to his pants.

“‘m gonna fuck you real good, sweet girl, don’t you worry.” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out of you. he quickly spit in his hand and rubbed himself a few times before looking down at you. “you’re okay with this, right?” even when he was caught up in the moment, he knew how to pull himself out of that mindset and take care of you. you looked at him and nodded, a slight smile on your face. your cheeks had slight tear stains on them from crying earlier, but neither of you minded, if anything, it turned armin on more.

he used the head of his cock to tap your clit a few times before cursing under his breath. “fuck, i forgot a condom, hold on.” he huffed. “no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it..” you flashed him a smile. armin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his features at your words. “oh sweet girl, you want it raw your first time? how sinful.” the words rolled off armin’s tongue and sent shivers down your spine. you could only shake your head as armin rutted against your soaking cunt.

“‘m gonna put it in now, schatzi. it’ll hurt at first, but you’ll be okay.” he mumbled before lining himself up with your entrance. you took a deep breath as armin started entering you. right off the bat your warm walls squeezed him, making his eyes roll back. holy fuck, you were so tight. you whimpered as he continued to push himself inside of you. he could feel your walls constricting around him, making him go insane. it felt so fucking good to be inside of you.

minutes felt like hours until he finally paused. “oh honey, i’m halfway in. you’re doing so fucking good.” at his words, you gulped. he was only halfway in?! how fucking big was he? you never got the chance to look at him before he started fucking you..

it almost seemed like armin could read your mind. he cupped your cheek in his hand and made you look at him. “i know i’m big, but it’s okay. you can take it. good girls like you just stay still and take it.” you just took a breath and nodded, wincing as he started pushing himself in again. it felt like you were being split in half, the pain seeming unbearable.

time continued to pass (slowly in your opinion), before armin’s hips stilled. “that’s my girl. see, i’m inside you now. can you feel me in your tummy, love?” he cooed. his eyes looked upon you lovingly as your heart was beating erratically in your chest. he gently pushed down on your stomach, causing you to gasp. “d-don’t do that!” the pleasure that shot through you when he did it startled you.

he chuckled and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. your kisses were just like he imagined, warm and welcoming. as you continued to kiss, he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in all at once. you broke away, gasping loudly. “a-armin!” you cried.

“shh, shh. you’re fine. you can take it. you’re okay.” he mumbled encouraging words to you as he gripped your waist. he started thrusting in and out, the sound of skin slapping together could be heard around the room. “oh baby, you feel so fucking good. squeezing me so much.” it wasn’t long before the pain started to turn into some sort of pleasure.

“such a greedy fuckin’ girl, hah.. can’t get enough of me? it’s like you’re sucking me back in. i don’t mind though, i’m all yours. ‘m gonna fuck you so good that you’ll never want anyone else but me.” he babbled on and on as he continued to thrust into you roughly. you just shook your head, agreeing with the blonde that was currently drilling into you. “only you. only want you. ‘m your special, sweet girl min..” you panted.

you sunk your nails into the sheets below you as you tried to ground yourself to reality. armin was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. “fuck, you’re so deep in me!” you whined. you could hear armin chuckle above you as he continued to fuck you roughly. “oh baby, you’ve gotta stop squeezing me like that.. ‘m gonna cum to soon if you keep doing— oh!” without realizing it, you had came on him.

your room smelled like sweat and sex. moans, pants, skin hitting skin, and squelching noises could be heard echoing around the four walls. “oh fuck baby.. good girl. cumming all over my fucking cock.” armin praised. you whined, your mind starting to go blank. if this would happen every time you had sex with armin, you would happily oblige.

“oh shit! sweet girl, i’m gonna cum. i gotta pull out..” armin whined, his hair sticking to his forehead. you violently shook your head. “p-please cum in me! please..” at your words, armin swore he could have came. “oh honey, you want me to come in you? want me to stuff you full of my cum the first time? you’re that addicted to me that you want me to stuff my kid into you? fucking hell sweet girl, you’d look so beautiful with my baby stuffed inside of you.” armin was mindlessly mumbling now. he was getting off on the thought of you being stuffed with his kid.

“yes! would be so perfect with your kid in me, min! would be so perfect..” you weren’t quite sure what you were saying as you felt like you were on cloud 9. your body was stuck in a state of euphoria as you felt armin’s hips still. he whined loudly as he started cumming.

your legs were shaking and pants escaped your parted lips as armin slowly started moving again. “wait! wait.. ‘m overstimulated!” you cried out, but he paid no mind to it. he leaned down, whispering in your ear, “i gotta make sure you’re full of my cum, sweetie. one load won’t do it. gotta breed you full, make sure you’re good and full.” you felt chills run down your spine. the intimacy of what you were doing, and him being so close, seemed to have you on edge.

a white ring had formed at the base of his cock, your cum mixing with his. the noises you two were making were downright sinful. “holy.. ahhh..” drool was starting to drip out of your mouth as armin continued to bully your pretty pussy with his cock. he used his free hand to wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth. “you’re drooling, pretty girl.” he teased.

his words weren’t registering in your brain as you continued to slip further and further into a dumbed out state. “oh come on, don’t tell me i’ve got you dumb on my cock already,” he laughed before letting out a moan. your walls squeezed his cock just right. “we’ve only went one round, darling.”

you mindlessly babbled some response. you were fairly sure what you said wasn’t even coherent words, but armin didn’t care. in fact, he found it quite adorable. “ah shit.. i’m not gonna last long if you keep fucking squeezing me like this, hah—“

your walls continued to squeeze and contract around him as the coil in your stomach snapped once again. you came all over him, loud moans escaping your sore throat. your legs were trembling and you could have swore that you were seeing stars. “m.. ma.. min.. oh min.. please-“ your voice was quiet, yet armin could still hear it.

“don’t worry, my love. i’m right here. ‘m gonna stuff you full of my cum, okay? you’ll be nice and full. gonna look so fucking precious with my child in you..” he hissed between clenched teeth. it only took a few more thrusts before armin came inside you again. his hips still, a sigh leaving his lips as he slowly pulled out. you had tears dripping down your cheeks, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

armin watched your cum, mixed with his, drip out of your abused cunt, a satisfied smirk on his face. “oh, sweet girl, you can’t waste my cum like this.” he frowned before taking his fingers and scooping it back up and pushing it back in you. you whimpered, not being able to form words. “gonna make sure you’re bred. gotta make sure you’ll have my kid. then you’ll never leave me..”

groaning, you slowly started to open your eyes. your lower body felt like it was being ripped to shreds, the pain feeling unbearable. as you started to gain your bearings, you noticed that you were dressed again. you had on a pair of lace underwear on, along with one of armin’s t-shirts.

what the? how did that happen? the last thing you remember was armin practically fucking your brains out. carefully turning your head, you saw armin fast asleep beside you. truth be told, you were too tired to be worried about how you got dressed again. yawning, you set your head back on your pillow, thinking about what happened.

how could your sweet, innocent armin say the things that he did last night? you coughed a little before pulling the blanket up more to cover your body. armin shifted beside you, but was still asleep.

as you continued to think, you could feel yourself slipping right back into sleep. the last thing you thought of before losing consciousness was the fact that even the sweetest honey can turn sour..

liebling :: german. term of endearment. means dear or darling.

schatzi :: german. term of endearment. literally means “little treasure” but is also said to mean sweetheart or darling.

#armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #armin arlert #armin aot #aot smut #armin snk #armin x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #˗ˏˋ saturn’s stories ´ˎ˗#→˚₊·🐚 ੭* r.o.s | a. arlert

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pascalsbby · 1 year ago

Text

CARNAL : PROLOGUE

Read Part 1

Carnal Masterlist / Masterlist

Summary: 2.9K/ f!reader, dark!joel, stalker!joel.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap (unspecified but reader is late into college), female masturbation, joel masturbating, dominate & aggressive joel, cam girl, pet names, praise kink, he briefly talks you through it, tells you what to do. talk of: trauma (not graphic or specified as SA), pain kink, fingering, sucking fingers, red flag girl stalker!joel is coming, the usual pure filth

“You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, right? Fucking, testing one another and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

It started as a way to claim something back for yourself. Pieces that you’d given away over the years, ones that had been ripped from your hands, your body. This way, you had a say.

Strip, open your lips for a stranger to coo praise towards your teeming core… and then pay you. You cried a couple of times afterwards, languidly sitting in the filth of your own desire. Through the guilt of it all, it was hard to explain why it pleasured you so deeply.

No man had ever, in real life, truly pleasured you. Taking cock this way and that just for you to squeeze your walls together and moan, tired of the wrestle and hoping it would end soon. “I came.”

This, behind a camera, didn’t feel like real life, though. Most of the time you didn’t see their faces, just the curvature of desperate dick and tiring arms. That made it easier, of course, until the money became second thought to how pleasing their whispered obscenities were, dripping from their mouth down to their sobbing cocks.

You read somewhere that some kinks are a result of trauma, which makes sense. Having an angry father and a mother who didn’t leave her bed until after you left for college, was just the first lock on a heavily bolted door. You raised yourself, your brother, your mother, your father. Labeled an ‘old soul’ or whatever the fuck the grownups always told you as they patted your back and sent you along.

Scratching your way through childhood, you decided it would be easier to be invisible in high school. You painted, and finally you were noticed. You told yourself college would be different. But the only interest shown was that of your body, or that of your art.

Maybe if he praised the way my tits looked after he marked himself into them, I’d feel better about myself. Maybe if he slipped his spit-soaked fingers into the right place, I’d be cured.

The cure never came, no matter how many different sets of fingers you had inside of you. No matter how many tubes of oil you emptied onto primed canvas. Everyone always wants to know the story of how the canvas came to be covered, but do they really want that truth?

Maybe the desire to bare yourself to these men stemmed from never being wanted or loved the way you loved others. So much so that it caved in your chest the first time you fell in love. You fundamentally could not understand why he wouldn’t try as hard as you, why he didn’t love like you did. “I just don’t know if I want to stay with you because of your body, or if it’s because I love you.” Watering yourself down was preferred, it hurt less, even though there’s shame in that, too. So love hadn’t really crossed your mind since. You wondered where that little girl was, who so deeply believed in it, despite the fact she never received it back. Desire, pleasure, pain with no connection? That was easy.

So uttering your want…need, to be hit, spit on, filled, devoured- as if it was an act of release- to any sexual partner, lover, or even therapist, never seemed right. Especially when you were aware that you would collapse into yourself afterward, falling over the thin line of possible pleasure and needing safety. Of wanting to, but not being able to let yourself go completely.

The stranger across the screen? They could tear you apart in every way you wanted, without you having to beg or be asked “why?” Without touching you. Afterwards, you could shut the computer screen.

This was your secret, the squalor. A juxtaposing new kind of fight.

You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, right? Fucking, testing one another and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to.

You learned quickly that he was in charge. Submitting to him felt like second nature. You’d long ago given up the belief that someday, someone would save you.

@texanblackbird

You look like you need to be put in your place sweetheart. Havin your sweet little holes out for all these men and what worthwhile could they possibly be givin you back?

You

Well Texan Paul McCartney, right now they’re giving me a lot more than you. $100 and I’ll enter a room with you for an hour.

@texanblackbird

Let me help you little bird, you sound fuckin pathetic. $300 and you’re mine for 30 minutes. Don’t open your mouth until I say & don’t you dare smart off to me again, got it? Then I won’t clip your wings, not just yet.

You felt your cheeks swell with heat, but more so you felt the pull in your core. His profile picture was missing his face of course, but you couldn’t deny that from the small circle, the body filling it looked intriguing. You got off of the bed, sat up your laptop and checked yourself in the mirror above your desk. You brushed out your too-perfect lipstick with your finger, making it look a little more worn. Making it seem like you were a little more experienced, that you put on a good show. That you were worth the money.

You let him in and waited.

He was breathtaking, sat in a simple office chair. His shoulders spread the entire width- he engulfed it. His collarbones adorned by freckles and warm-toned skin. Like the sky had kissed him over and over, singing praises into his skin. He had gotten a little sun recently, his chest blushing and soft looking with a few scars from time. His arms splayed across his lap, jeans still on but wantonly unbuttoned. He was thick, rugged- dirty even. He needed a shower from whatever laboriously hard work he had just completed. You could already see the length of him pushing against his jeans. His hips protruding slightly, curving at his thighs. Veins running down his hallowed v line.

He wasn’t big in the sense of grotesque protruding muscles, but large in a soft way. His biceps pushing against his skin, showing that he would easily overtake you, lay you down and pin you where he wanted. Strong. His shoulders could support you. His fingers thick… one was the equivalent of your two. He could caress the spongey insides of you with absolute ease. His palm greatly bigger than your entire face. You imagined it sprawling your mound, fingers tall enough to push down on your stomach at the same time his thumb was pushing down into your body. His build was that of an older man, someone whose body has seen years, been loved, discarded, kissed, and maybe even hated. His stomach lightly spilled over his half open jeans, hair curling above the seam and crawling up towards his belly button.

You didn’t dare say anything until he instructed. You sat pretty on the edge of your bed and took him in. Oh, you would do anything he asked of you. Then, he took out his cock and spoke a voice that sent fire down your spine.

Husked, vibrating, basey. You never had an affinity for a southern drawl until his lips parted.

He spent most of your sessions hungrily ordering you around your own body. He was abhorrent in ways you’d never dreamed before. You discovered parts of yourself you didn’t know needed touching, panting and babbling for him. Right when you’d hit a new spot he would huff a laugh at your desperation, breathing out, “Good girl. Goooood. Now do it again, harder. That’s it baby.”

“Turn around ‘n spread open those pretty lips for daddy. I wanna see what you look like drippin from the back. Bend over. Mhmm, oh so good,” he paused as you did what he asked, “God damn I know that pretty pussy would love to swallow this cock. Don’t ya think so Birdie?”

“Y… yes sir.” In reality, it would absolutely destroy you. But imagining the stretch of your hole as he slipped himself into you was enough to pull out another orgasm. Your entrance tightening and losing slack each time he sheathed himself into you.

“Let it out baby girl.” You did. You let it out for him, unabashedly.

If his deep voice wasn’t enough by itself, then even looking at his hands was sometimes enough to send you over the edge. The way he grabbed himself, spitting multiple times into his palm in order to cover the width, moving his middle finger in lazy circles around his angry head. Drawing spit into strings to wet his slit, pushing the precum down the veins of his length. Breathing heavily and moaning from his chest.

He told you that all of your holes needed to be filled simultaneously until you were whimpering, begging for reprise. You agreed through overstimulated tears.

By the fourth encounter, you’d given him your phone number, not thinking too deeply into it, considering by this time he was paying you enough to cover your phone bill three times over. And rent.

You lived alone in an apartment a few minutes outside of campus, far enough to drive but not far enough away to feel like you weren’t in the mix of everything. Everyone around you was around the same age, so no one thought twice about the moans you failed to stifle. Or the dad-aged man who often sat in the lobby, head down- unbeknownst to you, of course.

You still didn’t know each others name, but you were instructed to call him ‘daddy’ and ‘sir’. When he wasn’t calling you filthy pet names he called you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sweetheart’. You Googled his phone number but couldn’t find anything worth following. The ignorance to who he could be was good enough for you, blissful even. It fed into your daydreams between seeing him every Thursday.

You’d never had a true conversation with him, never dared ask why that day over any other. Upon his request you would send him multiple pictures a day, your fingers in your mouth. He wanted to see the wetness in your underwear, begging for you stick your fingers in and play with it so he could see what he’d done to you.

By the seventh encounter you knew you wanted to be completely devoured by him. You wanted to fill the space between his teeth.

“I want to bring you pain so that you know what real pleasure feels like. Bring you so close to the edge that I’m the only one who can bring you back. I want you to fall on your knees for me, I want you bruised and beggin,” he husked, “at my mercy, not the world’s.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

One Thursday, someone knocked at your door amidst your indecency. You had a few friends, mostly those with the same major and classes. It didn’t make sense for them to be showing up, considering you’d just spent a three hour class time with them.

Your movements stuttered.

“You gonna get that?”

“Are you gonna let me?”

“And let whoever it is see how wasted you look right now? Absolutely. Tell ‘em I said hi,” he smirked.

The knocking continued until you finally made it to the door. Whoever it was, could by no means enter your apartment, especially not your bedroom.

“Sarah!” Oh god.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? Have you been crying? Who hurt you, let me at ‘em!”

Always full of energy, this one. She was a few years younger than you, a photography major you had met when she approached you one day in the Student Union, asking if she could take your portraits because you, “had a certain aura about you.” Of course you agreed, how could you say no to someone who was so entirely happy? You exchanged numbers and had at least one new text from her daily, since. You hadn’t seen the photographs yet, she took them on an old film camera, but you kept meaning to ask if she’d developed them.

“I’m okay, promise. I just wasn’t expecting you. I would invite you in but I’m not feeling too great at the moment. I think I caught the cold that Shay had,” you pouted, hoping your were selling it well.

“Oh no worries, I texted you but you didn’t respond so I thought I’d walk the couple doors down! I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner on campus, but we’ll reconvene another time.”

“I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “it’s been a day. I promise I’ll answer next time. Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sure! See you then. Text me if you need anything.”

“Always,” you said with a smile as she walked away and you closed the door.

You hadn’t been to her place just yet. She has a roommate she absolutely despises, you learned. You didn’t know she had an ill bone in her body, but she spends most of her time outside of her apartment, understandably so. It made you feel a sort of calm though, knowing she lived so close. You were going to miss her liveliness whenever you graduated and she returned to her hometown for the summer. You wished you’d met her earlier in college.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

He had heard everything, you rushed too quickly out and didn’t close your bedroom door entirely. The apartment is small, he thought, if it was anything like Sarah’s. Sound travels. He wondered if Sarah was there to drop off the pictures she’d taken of you. Oh she was so excited about them, FaceTiming him months ago to show him. She insisted that she would wait to give them to you, as a graduation present. At the time, graduation was a semester away.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” You were. There was something in your eyes that fell to the pit of his stomach. Who had hurt you so badly that your eyes gave it away, pleading? You looked so small, sitting at a table with pencil in hand, drawing. You looked so familiar, he felt your stare in his core.

He would never admit that he had taken a screenshot of one specific image as Sarah continued on, “She was just sitting there, and I went up to her and asked her! And now we’re friends. I feel like we’ll be best friends soon. She’s a senior though, but she lives right down the hall. And oh! Her taste in music is so similar to yours too, you’d like her.” She smiled.

He looked at the picture shamefully. Between jobs, in the bathroom, in his work truck. He felt gross the first time he touched himself to you, but it felt so good, the way his cock would twitch at the thought of all the ways he could ruin you. Fix you.

A week later he couldn’t take it anymore. He found you quickly, you popped up in Sarah’s Instagram friends right under a few other people, smiling in your profile picture. Private, but your social media was all under the same name, so he took you for everything he could find. You were an artist, loved classic rock and always retweeted sad poetry.

The day he came across your secret Twitter felt like an answer to a prayer. He knew you had it in you. What a naughty girl. But why would you follow yourself? That wasn’t very smart of you. Did you even think about your own safety? Did you even care?

He made an account on the cam site you promoted on said post- and he was in. As far as he knew, Sarah had never mentioned him to you… never had a reason too.

You’d surprised her one weekend, showing up to have dinner with her. Not before sitting in the lobby for a few minutes, hoping to catch a glance of you. For you to pass by without a thought, the air bringing your scent to his nose. He even walked down the opposite side of Sarah’s hallway when he got to the fourth floor, trying to see if there was any indication which apartment was yours. Maybe he would knock on it, accidentally, apologize and say he was looking for his daughters apartment. He wanted more of you, anything he could get his hands on.

The money wasn’t an issue for him, he lived alone and didn’t need much. He gave it to you happily if it meant that you were his for an hour, through text, whatever. He gave you a fake number, one that led back to some app he texted you on. He’d had these obsessive tendencies before.

You returned to him, blushing while dropping the robe you had hastily grabbed. As you sat on the edge of your bed, spreading your thighs open for him, tracing wet lines towards your cunt, he knew that you were his, you would be. An hour later he was texting Sarah.

“What time is your friends capstone show next week?”

Extra: Joel in his truck

Part 3

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

A/N: Thank you for all the love in Part 1! I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve just graduated college and I have some downtime and a busy brain to satiate.

I just wanted to state that I’m pro-sex work & pro-therapy! This is me writing parts of myself and my own trauma into the main character…forgive me! ‘Art’ is embarrassing sometimes, huh?

I have an entire Pinterest board filled with ideas, pictures, quotes for this fic. I hope you guys are enjoying ☺️

Tag List: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @i-love-rafe

#joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x you #tlou fanfiction #carnal #pervy!joel miller #perv!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #stalker!joel #stalker!joel miller #smut #pascalsbby

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darkestspring · 5 months ago

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Please make a Part 3 but more Jace & reader centric but of course yandere Aegon and yandere Rhaenyra need to be there 😊

Jace was so different to anyone you had ever met, it shouldn't surprise you really. Jace had kind, he'd been respectful, and he'd indulged all of your rambling. it was more than anything anyone had done for you, other than aegon but that was different, aegon was your brother, jace was... you weren't sure what jace was.

No one had mentioned your marriage to jace since it had been official that your marriage to aemond was dissolved. You felt oddly disappointed about it but you spent most of your time with Jace, taking walks, eating together, going on dragon rides.

You liked with being jace.

"Sweet girl, are you doing well?" Rhaenyra was braiding your hair softly, she had dismissed the maid after you had been dressed, insisting she could help you from there on.

Your cheeks flushed red as you thought about her question. "Yes, I'm doing well, Sister."

"Mmmm, I'm glad Jace is treating you well." She said, just to see your reaction and she was disappointed as your cheeks flushed red.

She can come to realize that you were the opposite of how she was at your age, you didn't seem to have a lick of rebellion in your body. Even when you were made to marry Aemond, someone you didn't love and didn't want to marry, you still did. She wished you'd be a little rebellious. Even now, you had no protests about marrying someone you were only just starting to get to know.

"SIster, I am always in your corner. If you don't like something, just say it. I will get rid of everything you don't like." Rhaenyra reassured you, rubbing your back softly.

Tears pricked your eyes. "I..." You trailed off, unsure if you should say this. "Actually, I never wanted to marry Aemond but mother scared me. I... hated every second I spent around him but I still tried my hardest to love him. Every second I knew of his visits to the brothel, I wanted to tear all of his things to shreds."

It made you feel bad to admit this, you had hated every second of being married to Aemond, the agonizing loneliness paired horribly with the terror you felt at the prospect to voicing your dislike to Aemond who would say something to your mother. So, you swallowed everything and took all of the insults with a smile.

Having your mother call you a good girl for ignoring everything your husband was doing and taking all of the unfair insults with a smile made you feel sick. You wanted to scream at the unfairness.

"Why?" You sobbed into your hands. "Why did i have to hear insults about how inadequate I must be as a wife when he was the one going to that- that stupid brothel!" You wailed and Rhaenyra knew what hate felt like but she had never hated anyone as much as Aemond.

That stupid boy.

She locked eyes with Jace and she beckoned him forward slowly, knowing he had heard all of that.

"It's not your fault." Jace's voice shook you out of your stupor and your cheeks were red in embarrassment and you stood up.

"I-! I didn't hear you, I shouldn't have-" You stammered out in response, feeling embarrassed at letting the person that held your affections see you like this.

"There's no shame in crying, none of that was your fault. Aemond is stupid for not seeing how wonderful you are. You're kind and thoughtful and passionate." Jace took your hand in his. "If I was your husband, I'd never even think of anyone else. You're... like an angel."

Your cheeks flushed more. "Oh."

You had wanted to hear this for so long, at least one person genuinely comforting you.

"I will never think of anyone else but you. If you allow me to, I will always be by your side, helping you, loving you. You're the most wonderful person I know. If you still want to, I would love to be your husband."

Your tears returned but they were of happiness this time. "Really?" The first time it had been a reluctant affair, neither of you really wanting it but you were too scared to go against your mother but this time, you were really happy. "Yes!" You beamed up at him.

Rhaenyra smiled, she could finally show you the wedding planner she had been storing for the past few weeks.

#jace velaryon x reader

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s-henanigans-h · 1 month ago

Text

I Identified as Asexual for 10 years, it was just Catholic Guilt. (Long Post)

I need to talk about this because I’m so nervous to talk about it. I whole-heartedly identified as asexual for ten entire years because of how deeply entrenched my catholic guilt and shame was. And asexual people are often told their identity is a phase and so I’m scared to talk about my experience because I don’t want people thinking my case can be extrapolated to other asexuals. Also no hatred towards Catholics, I personally have issues with the institution and it hurt me, but if it adds meaning to your life I respect your relationship with it. Brief SH mention in 3rd paragraph. No SA/violence/abuse at any point.

I began identifying as asexual around age 12 probably, it could be 14 I don’t know for sure. And only this past summer (I’m 22) did I start to pull the thread of “is _____ a thing I actually believe or was I taught to believe it” because I’m trying to unpack some of the underlying catholic teachings. I didn’t think I was raised particularly strongly Catholic but as I look back and talk to my friends about their experiences I realize mine was the outlier. I had a strongly sheltered childhood and was being socialized as a good catholic girl (who was inevitably going to end up with an anxiety disorder).

I hit puberty around 11. I was still in the Catholic Church (though I don’t know if I ever truly believed, but I sure was trying my hardest). I began going through “first puberty” and began to hate my body. I thought I must have an eating disorder because I couldn’t think of anything else that would make me hate my body so much as it changed. Turned out I was trans. I was the kind of person who didn’t know until I hit puberty.

While my family and community were not openly homo/transphobic, there are some subtextual things and subliminal messaging present, in addition to the official teachings of the church that I learned. So all the years of “first puberty” are wrapped in shame around my body, my mom not encouraging me to talk about anything that is happening, being taught not to talk about my body full stop. This is around the time I start self-harming. Nobody should be surprised (I’ll talk about this another time).

I started to identify as bi around age 12. I always said bi, never bisexual. Because that was the bad part. That was the word I couldn't say. Imagine being raised in a sex-positive household. Now imagine the opposite - I was raised in a sex-negative household. We do not talk about sex. It is never appropriate to talk about sex. People should not experience or talk about sexual attraction. And even if these messages were not said out loud they were communicated consistently throughout most of my life (they still are).

This is, of course, a difficult attitude to hold while actively going through puberty. When I have any type of romantic or sexual feeling I get terrified and would either pretend it didn’t happen, make up some excuse for it, or even pray or repeatedly repress the thought. I also was diagnosed with ocd at age 12. My first major obsession theme was moral scrupulosity and masturbation. I was told that this thing that I wanted to do (and did) was so horribly wrong that I needed to confess it to a priest and never do it again. (Here we see a classic example of belief-desire incongruence). So it became an OCD spiral that occupied hours of my day. But I was still in a world where I could not talk about sex, so I was dealing with this entire experience alone as a teenager. Again, it is no wonder I had depression, I was actively doing things (and identifying in ways) that were making me happy, yet I was told were morally despicable.

When I was about 14 or so I found the label “asexual” online. And suddenly everything made sense (or so I thought). I convinced myself immediately that:

1. I never experienced sexual attraction.

2. I could hide behind this label and then no one would ever expect me to engage in something that would be morally wrong for me to do.

And I told myself:

3. This label was why I never understood why people talked about or engaged in sex (spoilers, that was the Catholic upbringing)

4. That’s why I had so much shame about sex was because it was “not really me” (early leaning to repress emotions/desires)

It was perfect. But none of this was conscious, or at least I never realized it or thought about it. I just found a label that fit me, I was asexual and biromantic, and I’d never engage with sex or experience sexual attraction so then I’d be *good*.

I convinced myself that this was true and an accurate assessment of my feelings for the next 9 years. Even when I started T and went through “second puberty” and started to experience more genuine sexual attraction I shut myself off and disconnected and said that it was just my body experiencing it and not my mind and therefore it wasn’t bad or wrong. I just repressed any thought, feeling or action related to sex. This went on from ages 14 to 21.

I told a crush that I was asexual my freshman year of college because the idea that he would ever expect me to have sex or that I would want to was so terrifying and wrong that it was easier to say that I didn’t want it up front so it’d never be put in that position. We never got together. Sometimes I wonder if I knew then what I know now if we would have gotten together.

I started to realize the extent to which Catholicism informs my actions and feelings this past summer. It’s truly terrifying and did lead to a brief depressive episode. I’m mad about the things that I was taught to believe, and the way that I was encouraged to feel about myself.

I still struggle to be on par with my peers in many settings because I was raised with such a strict moral code and ideas of what is “right” and “wrong” or “appropriate” and “inappropriate”. Once I started to question each of these beliefs and found myself thinking about them I realized how freeing it is to notice that I’ve been believing something that simply isn’t true or I never really believed it, I just was told that I needed to.

It’s wild. And terrifying. And annoying. I went on my first date recently at age 22. They weren’t raised Catholic. I feel this massive deficit and want to trust someone to help me through it and help me learn how other people experience the world. I know that my parents and the church community didn’t mean to hurt me or cause damage, but they did. I usually don’t share like this but I think it’s important to open up from an ex-Catholic pov, an ex-asexual pov, and someone who has moral and sexual ocd themes.

If you relate to any of this or want to talk about it or your own experiences, message me, I’m happy to chat. I’d like to post more of my thoughts on this sideblog since I don’t see this pov shared often and I want people to know they’re not alone (I want to know I’m not alone).

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its-tea-time-darling · 9 months ago

Text

things i did NOT like about shadow and bone (netflix):

the darkling looks Old. he's supposed to look the same age as all the other main protagonists. this highlights alina's future of staying the same & young where everyone around her dies. it also blurs the line between good and evil more bc 'oh he's the older bad guy' is just such an easy solve. also while ben barnes is a snack imo the darkling was supposed to have a more alluring, youthful magnetism.

making genya's scars barely a few scratches. she's supposed to objectively have lost her former self perfected beauty!!! this is a thing!!! she doesn't just have some deep scars, she's supposed to look hideous at first sight, where is show adaptation teams' courage to show characters that are supposed to be mutilated as just that???? i promise audiences can survive on literally everyone else on the cast being very stereotypically pretty/handsome 🙄🙄🙄🙄

changing wesper's storyline so that they had a one night stand before canon sets in??? what kind of bullshit is that??? fucking robbing me of the "just girls?" -"not just girls" gay ANgST will they won't they, does jesper like him too, will they ever - BAM. KISS. !!!!!!! succession??? making wylan cute and awkward does NOT compensate their book storyline At All what were those show writers thinking??? 😭😭

this one i will forgive but i still rly liked it in the books so im a tad sad they didn't manage to include it: that alina has a time where she thinks she is morozova's second daughter's descendant. in many respects she has learned she is Special, and the shame she feels when she realizes this isn't another one of these cases, this isn't a way to finally show her A Path, that in this respect she is ordinary and mal is tied to fate that way, that's just such a good touch.

malina going seperate ways. what happened to "they had an ordinary life full of ordinary things--if love can ever be called that."????? "choice is true north" my ASS 😤😤😤😤 malina have always been in love and will always be in love idc abt the firebird amplifier thing that was just sth they had to do they've always been people and they've always loved each other there is no way around it

things i DID like about shadow and bone (netflix)

david and genya. specifically the delivery of the lines "I … I don’t understand half of what goes on around me. I don’t get jokes or sunsets or poetry, but I know metal. Beauty was your armor. Fragile stuff, all show. But what’s inside you? That’s steel. It’s brave and unbreakable. And it doesn’t need fixing. You don't need fixing."

genya telling the queen how she poisoned the king, and genya spitting at nikolai how his apologies are of no use and that he needs to prove a better king. generally just genya. 💞

nikolai sending his mother away + what he says to her.

all the malina flashbacks to the meadow <33

malina last night together 😳😳 they love each other sm!!!!!

the scene at morozova's home. baghra sharing her past, all the reveals happening there, and of course the darkling weeping over his mother's body. "know that i loved you. know that it wasn't enough." like OkAY.

sankta neyar's speech. so deeply touching, and doesn't just apply to immortals but to all of us who have been hurt and suffered loss before.

the darkling begging alina to let him be her monster. A+ delivery.

"How will you have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? I will have you without armour, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all." generally the entirety of kanej in this show. inej's hallucination. the mirroring to the last scene. breathtaking showstopping flawless.

little rabbit.

#shadow and bone #that's all for now #who is late to the party by several months? it's TEA 😃🎉🎉🎉🎉#txt #shadow and bone netflix #sab #six of crows #soc #wesper #malina #kanej #long post

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wintrwinchestr · 5 months ago

Text

bite the hand

the killer & the sound - chapter 3

summary: you hadn't expected joel to put such an abrupt end to... whatever it is you two had. or, what you thought you had, anyway. you write and perform a new song on the second night of the tour about it, and the consequences aren't quite what you expected them to be. how could something that seemed so simple at first have become so complicated?

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, no use of y/n, rockstar!joel, aspiring rockstar!reader, d/s dynamics, pretty major daddy kink, age gap (reader is early-mid 20’s, joel is early-mid 50’s), pet names (sweetheart, darlin', baby, babygirl, songbird(!!), etc), big time angst, daddy/mommy issues, religious shame, degradation (joel calls you a whore), spanking, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, manhandling, one (1) kiss, spitting, smoking (reader & other characters), drinking (reader & other characters), getting walked in on, characters who need therapy sooooo badly, lots of internal monologue, let me know if i missed any!!

word count: 13.2k

a/n: as always, thank you so much for your patience and sticking around to see what i put our pookies through this time. these chapters just keep getting longer and longer but it's not my fault they have a lot to say!!!!! if you'd like an idea of what reader's lil diss track sounds like, i very much imagined gibson girl by ethel cain when i wrote it. thank you as always to my best babygirl kiers i love u to death. i hope you like this one, nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed!!

series masterlist

read this chapter on ao3

divider by @saradika-graphics

Jesus Christ, what the hell is he doing?

Joel has been in the shower for at least thirty minutes now, and he’s spent more than half of that time just letting the scalding water pound against his back as his vision goes blurry from the steam. He finished his “rinse off” within five minutes of stepping inside the bathroom, and now he’s just stalling, wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to go back out there and get in bed with you.

If it weren’t for the decades’ worth of tattoos that he can see when he looks down at his bare body, he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself right now. He’s always been one to hit it and quit it, love ‘em and leave ‘em, or whatever little figure of speech you want to use for just being a fucking playboy. Since when has he ever cleaned a girl up, given her his clothes to wear, let her sleep over after he fucks her? Though, he has to give himself some credit, it’s not like he was planning on letting you stay. He was just trying to preserve some of your dignity, but then, when did he even decide to start caring about shit like that?

Fuck.

When the tour bus jerks to life as the driver begins the trip to the next city, the loss of balance is enough to finally snap Joel out of the uncharacteristic morality spiral he’s now found himself in. He rubs his hands across his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and cursing under his breath, knowing that he can’t hide in here and avoid you forever. Besides, he’s getting old, and he has to sleep at some point if he wants to be at least a little functional tomorrow. And what is he so fucking scared of, anyway?

Joel turns off the water, and the knob screeches in protest as the dull roar of the shower fades into silence. He steps out of the stall and hardly makes any effort to dry himself off, solely focused on getting out of there before the fog evaporates from the mirror and he’s forced to confront his own reflection. He shakes out his hair and pulls on a clean pair of briefs, then sends out a silent prayer to whoever the fuck might be listening, begging for help in making it through the night without having to address whatever it is that’s gnawing at his conscience. He didn’t even think he had one of those anymore.

Joel enters the bedroom quietly, hoping that you’d be exhausted enough to have fallen asleep by the time he returned. When you don’t even twitch as he shuts the door behind him and climbs under the covers, he lets out the breath he’d been holding, and lays himself down as close to the edge of the mattress as he can without falling off the damn thing. If he can put as much distance between the two of you as possible tonight, maybe he can make it out the other side unscathed.

Just when he thinks he’s in the clear, having settled himself down with his back to you and situated his silk sheets and pillows to his liking, he feels you roll over in your sleep as you let out some dreamy little whine. Joel likes to keep it cold on the bus, and your shivering form must feel the heat still radiating off of him from his shower, because then you’re wrapping your little arms around his bicep and pulling him close. He wants to shake you loose, to put some extra pillows in between your bodies just for good measure, but he can’t be so cruel. Not when you look like such a goddamn angel, sleeping so peacefully with your hair spread out around you like a halo, long lashes fluttering against your cheeks. He wonders what you’re dreaming about.

Joel isn’t sure when exactly it happened, but somewhere in between that very first rehearsal and right now, the lines started to blur between a fun little fling he wasn’t going to think twice about letting go of once the tour ended, and something that he wants to sink his claws into and claim as his own. He has to face it now, whether he wants to or not—he can’t get himself to push you away, to growl at you not to touch him and to stay on your own side of the bed, because he doesn’t want to. What he wants is to tattoo his fucking name right underneath that shitty moth on your upper thigh, and therein lies the problem.

He has a history of breaking things, of being too controlling and rough and mean when he plays with his toys, until they fight back and tear themselves apart as they escape his clutches. But you seem like something that can’t be broken, that would glue itself back together just to get played with again the next day, and that sets off some alarms he didn’t know he was capable of hearing. Maybe he does still have a conscience, after all.

At first, Joel had liked how eager and willing and naive you were, how easily he could push and pull you this way and that because you didn’t seem to realize what this was. Or at least, what it was intended to be. Whether you were smart to his intentions or not was never really his concern before, but now… You’re nuzzling your face into his arm, breathing in his scent and letting it soothe you as it coats your senses, and it’s awakening something protective, possessive, in him. Joel has never been good at romance or love or relationships, and he had resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he’d never be able to settle down. The life he lives can’t sustain something steady or healthy like that anyway, what with the touring and the groupies and the sex and the alcohol.

But now here you are, this fragile and yet unbreakable thing in his bed who he worries wouldn’t run away no matter how much he growled and bared his teeth. And god dammit, that scares him. Joel had thought he was done being scared, that he had left that feeling behind before you were even born, probably. And yet, here it is creeping up on him again, grabbing him by the throat and suffocating him. You’ve got real talent and beauty, with a promising future and blossoming career ahead of you, and you’d probably give it all up and follow him into the darkness if he promised to call you a good girl once you did.

Joel has never been a very good man, but something about you makes him really have to stare down the barrel of it now. He can’t do this to you, he can’t let you in, and he knows that. He’d poison you, if he hasn’t already. And he can’t give to you what you seem to think this is, what it could be, if he wasn’t so fucking damaged. So he decides it then, as he doesn’t stop his hand from brushing a stray strand of your halo out of your delicate face, that he has to put a stop to this first thing in the morning. And he has to be cold and concise about it, so that you’re perfectly clear on what the two of you are going to be from now on, even if it hurts you. You’re a big girl, and he trusts that you’ll get over it somehow, because letting this continue would hurt you a hell of a lot worse, in the end.

And you seemed to have taken it well, all things considered. He didn’t tell you the whole truth, the real reason why he decided to yank the arrow out of your heart when he was the one who shot it in there in the first place. Because then you’d know that he’s a broken man who also breaks things, and he can only shatter so many of your illusions about him in one morning. He knows this is his fault, and he was at least man enough to take the blame, he can give himself that. He had decided to paint himself as an actually respectable person who knows when he’s taken something too far, who definitely does have a conscience. Maybe you’re the one who lured it out of the dark cave it was hiding in, but he still can’t risk anything, on the off chance that he still is the same mangled man he always was and the one he will continue to be. So he lies to you, just a little bit, because what you don’t know won’t hurt you, and he can’t let you come any closer for fear of causing even more pain than he already has.

Joel watched as your bare legs carried you out of the living area and off of his bus, the tops of your thighs just barely concealed by his shirt he had lent you the night before. He didn’t react when you slammed the door on your way out, he had expected you to do as much. But he did half-expect you to turn around and spit a fuck you, Joel at him the way he would have deserved. It might have hurt less if you did, that way you would have left a sour taste in his mouth to replace the still-lingering flavor of your pussy mixed with the cum he had spilled inside you last night.

God, he is so fucked.

—

You had made sure to thank the audio technicians before you disappeared from the venue after your sound check, but otherwise avoided looking at or speaking to anyone on your way out. Especially him. You had held Angel close as you swiftly made your way back to your bus before Death’s Head had a chance to take the stage for their turn, not wanting to hear any more of Joel’s voice than you’ve had to today. Besides, it’s already been looping like a skipping record in your mind since this morning, refusing to let up no matter how hard you try to drown it out.

Mistake, respect, and professional are the choice words that are chanting themselves over and over again, so many times that they almost don’t sound real anymore, just a random sequence of letters and noises that you can’t make sense of. What happened last night didn’t feel like a mistake to you, especially not when he was so gentle in cleaning you up afterwards, when he brought you a glass of water, when he let you curl up against him in his bed, wearing his clothes. He sure as hell had plenty of time to decide that you were worthy of respect before he had you act like a whore on stage in front of tens of thousands of people for his own sick pleasure. (And apparently yours, but that’s not the point.) And now you’re supposed to believe that he suddenly had a change of heart overnight, that splitting you open on his cock and using your body to get what he wanted made him finally develop a moral compass and decide that he wants to start acting like a professional? Damn, maybe you are more powerful than you thought.

You just can’t believe you were stupid enough to let yourself feel something for him. He was just playing you like his guitar this entire fucking time, a pretty instrument that he can pluck and strum and draw pretty noises from, then put away without a second thought. He’s a celebrity, a rockstar, for fuck’s sake. Half of his songs are about sex, and if the rumors are true, he recorded the original intro to Kiss it Better while he was hooking up with some groupie in a bathroom. Just like you, he had probably used her to get what he wanted, then dropped her like it was nothing. Of course he never fucking cared about you.

You should burn the clothes that he sent you scurrying back to your bus wearing this morning. They’re currently shoved into the bottom of your plain-looking laundry bag in the corner of your room, though you’re half tempted to just toss the whole thing into the dumpster behind the venue and set it ablaze. But you know he doesn’t care about material things as much as he does his ego, and it’s going to be much more satisfying to set that on fire than some worn-out pieces of clothing, anyway. Destroying them also wouldn’t do anything about the way you keep catching an inhale of his cologne every once in a while, the masculine smell of it wafting from his t-shirt and carving out an undesired space for itself in your brain. You try to ignore the way your cunt flutters against your will at the scent, at the memories it conjures, and hope that she doesn’t develop a habit of betraying you like this when it comes to him. She almost gets the better of you, tempting you to second guess your plan to perform your scathing new song at the end of your set tonight.

Almost.

You’re feeling good about what you wrote, and you’d be even more upset with yourself if you backed out now, if you gave in to Joel once again, without him even knowing it this time. He seems to think that he knows you better than you know yourself, that he can make decisions for you and that he always knows just what to say to get you to do as he asks. For once, you want him to be fucking wrong about you.

The show starts in just under an hour, and you’re dedicating your last bit of quiet solitude to solidifying the new words and the motions of your fingers in your memory. While you were scribbling in your notepad earlier today, you had tried to ride the fine line between calling him out so blatantly and using descriptions that were too clichéd, and you’re happy with the in-between that you landed on. The song could be about anyone, but it isn’t, and if the shoe fits when he tries it on, oh fucking well. Plenty of men wear the same size, and if he wants to make yet another thing about himself, that’s not your problem.

Ideally, you had wanted to include the song in your sound check so that your band would be prepared for tonight, until you had let your eyes drift to the side of the stage and saw Joel observing in the darkness, just like he had done while you were performing the night before. You suppose it wouldn’t be very professional of him to avoid you like the plague the way you’re trying to do with him, but still. You had averted your eyes as quickly as you had spotted him, and decided that the song was just going to have to be a surprise for everyone, not just Joel. Your band members are smart enough guys, you’re sure they’ll be able to catch on and back you up when it’s time to unveil what you had been working on all day. But if they don’t, you’re prepared for it to just be you and Angel up there, the same way it has been for as long as you’ve been making music. Until recently, at least.

You’ve opted to get yourself dressed and ready in the safety of your bus, attempting to avoid a repeat of last night’s pre-show interactions with Joel by minimizing the amount of time you actually have to spend inside the venue. You doubt he’ll try anything, but considering how unafraid he was to volunteer himself as a witness to your sound check, you’d rather not risk it. So, you do your best to keep your distance as you make your way off the bus and to the side of the stage with Angel in tow, hoping that your viscous aura alone will be enough to keep him away.

Your band members are already waiting for you in the wings when you get there, and you tuck yourself safely behind the group of them as you wait for the lights to go down. You ghost your fingers along Angel’s strings one last time, just to make sure that your muscle memory is securely locked into place—it is, because you’re fucking good at this. You don’t need Joel’s whispered praises and soothing touches to know that you’re a star, and you don’t want them. You don’t. You fucking killed it last night, and you knew it before he told you so, because your ears were still ringing long after the audience had finished applauding and screaming for you. For your own performance, not for the on-stage degradation you endured because of a dumb teenage crush you couldn’t seem to shake off.

If your timing is right, you should’ve gone on a few minutes ago now. Each passing minute has you gnawing at your bottom lip and picking at your nails with increasing intensity as you and the audience both become more restless. You aren’t sure what the hold up is, but you just want to get out there and safely away from the possibility of Joel before you make one of your goddamn fingers bleed. You’re so consumed in your destructive self-soothing that you don’t hear the sound of jingling chains and creaking leather approaching you where you stand, followed by a clearing throat and the last voice you want to fucking hear right now.

“Tommy told me they’re jus’ tryin’ to fix a light or somethin’. Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” Joel says, and you stiffen as he speaks. He sounds earnest in the way he addresses the group of you, but the feeling of his gaze lingering on your skin tells you his true intentions.

Your bandmates hum in acknowledgement as they maintain their casual demeanors, while you shift your jaw and remain steadfast in your stoicism. Your face is calm and concentrated, but your fidgeting hands tell a different story, and the telltale habit is most of what prompted Joel to come over here against his better judgment. He so badly wants to take your hands in his so that you’ll stop tearing at your skin, to massage the worry right out of your palms and tell you there’s nothing to be nervous about, just like he did last night. Though, you’d probably bite his goddamn fingers clean off if he even so much as reached out a hand in your direction, and he wouldn’t entirely blame you if you did, considering that he’s more than likely the reason for your agitation.

Instead, he settles for asking, in as neutral of a tone as possible, “You okay, darlin’?”

Your gaze remains focused on the stage, on the mic you should be standing behind right now, if it weren’t for some stupid fucking light. After a pointed beat, you answer him with a short, “I’m fine.”

You can see in your peripheral vision that Joel nods and shifts his weight, moving a little further behind your band and closer to you. He lets a matching bit of silence pass, for some reason not using the opportunity to just turn around and walk away, before speaking again. “Quit messin’ with your fingers.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap, whipping your head to finally face him. You peer up at Joel from under your eyebrows, putting on a stony face and doing your best to look intimidating even as he towers over you. Despite your efforts, your heart still flutters for just a second when your eyes meet, before he drops his own gaze to the floor and takes a step back from you.

“That how this is gonna be?” Joel asks, and you could swear he sounds a little defeated.

“Yeah, it is.”

You turn yourself back to the stage again, and he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself and suppress a reaction to your attitude that he might regret.

“Look, can we–” he starts, but a sudden burst of screams and hollers cuts him off as the venue lights finally dim. You push past your bandmates and stomp your way towards the stage, feeling volatile and as determined as you’ve ever fucking been to give a killer performance tonight. You could’ve spit some real fire at him, told him to leave you the fuck alone like you had been so tempted to, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You don’t even need to check to know that he’s still standing exactly where you left him, and that he’ll probably stay there and watch you the whole time because he doesn’t know what the fuck he wants, apparently. Maybe you should bring him onstage for his public humiliation the same way he did to you, see how he likes it. But you have a little more humanity than he does, and if it all works out, he’ll have to watch you tear him down surrounded by his own bandmates and brother, and that’s gratifying enough for you.

When you and your band have all taken your places, you introduce yourself to tonight’s crowd with a newfound vigor, and begin your set with a chord so resonant it vibrates your bones. The sound surrounds you, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking loose the wallflower version of you who performed these same songs just last night. It feels like a metamorphosis, like the moths that adorn the strap slung around your body and the one etched into your skin finally belong to you instead of him.

—

You sail through your set, never stumbling over a chord or missing a lyric, even in your anticipation to reach the end. While you thank the crowd and wait for their roaring cheers to die down, you finally chance a look at the side of the stage. Just as you had predicted before you went on, Joel’s silver-tipped boots are still planted in the same place they were thirty minutes ago. Perfect.

“Y’all have been amazing tonight, this was so much fun,” you pant into the mic. “I, uh… I actually have one more song before I go, if that’s alright. Just wrote it this morning.”

Another wave of whistles and applause engulfs you as you turn to check on your bandmates, who all wear confused expressions as expected. You step back from the mic to tell each of the guys the key and tempo of what you wrote, and ask if they can maintain something steady and follow along while you carry the melody. When they’ve all gotten the plan, they look at each other and wordlessly communicate a final decision, seeming to be up to the challenge.

You resume your place at the front of the stage, taking one last look at your victim before beginning to strum the song’s now-familiar echoing intro. The tone is a little Western, and you wrote it that way on purpose, just as an extra hidden jab toward the obnoxious midnight cowboy persona Joel had first lured you in with. Your haunting voice comes in a few measures later, singing lyrics that are unlike anything you’ve written before. They’re darker, more graphic, and they tell the story of a girl and a cold-blooded man covered in leather and tattoos, who got her alone one night and ripped her clothes off and whispered things he didn’t mean while he fucked her. And after everything was said and done, the girl had lied to herself, replaying everything that had happened between her and the cold-blooded man that night, convincing herself that because it felt good, because he was good to her, that it had meant something. She had bared her body and soul to him, only to find out that he had also been lying to her that night, playing with her like a doll who didn’t know any better, who was just happy to get looked at and touched and praised by someone she had once held on such a high pedestal. You let the lights embrace you and warm your skin as you bare yourself once again, trusting this time that it won’t end in shame or hurt or tears.

When the buildup of your lyrics and chords finally culminate in the song’s cathartic crash, the first thing you feel is relief, like a crushing weight has been lifted off your heart. The crowd’s enthusiastic response to your creation surrounds you, filling your ears and infiltrating your soul, and you can’t help but laugh at the overwhelming feeling. You gesture behind you for your band to meet you at the front of the stage, and you all bow together to another round of raucous cheering before making your way offstage. This time, you do remember to leave Angel behind, satisfied in what the two of you accomplished tonight.

You’re still reveling in the rush of your performance by the time you’re shrouded in the backstage darkness once again, so caught up in the feeling that you nearly forget what your moment of spontaneity was for in the first place. Or rather, who it was for. You didn’t have enough wherewithal to check if Joel would still be lying in wait once you exited the stage, mostly assuming that his ego would get the best of him and he’d just huff his way out to the buses for a smoke once he realized what you were doing.

You assumed wrong.

Before your eyes even have a chance to adjust to the change in lighting, a calloused hand is gripped tight onto your upper arm, dragging you deeper backstage as you exclaim in protest and try to snatch your arm out of the iron hold that traps it.

“What the—Joel?! Get the fuck off me! What are you–”

“Will you fuckin’ quiet down?” Joel hisses next to your ear. “Quit makin’ a goddamn scene, already made enough of one as it is.”

Despite your struggle against him, his size and strength overpower you, and before you know it you’re being shoved into a dressing room, the door getting slammed shut and locked behind you in a second.

“What the fuck, Joel?” you shout up at him as he backs you into the door, finally letting go of your arm to loom over you and brace one of his hands next to your head.

“I can ask you the same goddamn thing. What the fuck was that out there, hm?” He spits back at you.

You massage the aching finger-shaped marks on your skin where he had gripped you, eyeing him with an annoyed expression. “It was just a song, what is your fucking problem?”

He scoffs, rolling his neck as his brows twitch in disbelief. “Just a song, right. Everybody knew that shit was about me.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, both from the anxiety of being confronted like this and the aggravation caused by his egomaniacal tendencies. “You are so fucking self-centered, it’s insane. It could’ve been about anyone—”

“But it wasn’t, huh?” Joel interrupts. “Who else do they know that has a filthy title inked into his hand, as you put it. Gimme a break, sweetheart. As if that same title didn’t have you soakin’ your fuckin’ panties for me last night.”

You hate that you can feel your cunt flutter in response to his words. “Whatever, will you just let me go? This isn’t very professional of you, locking me in your goddamn dressing room just so you can throw a fit,” you retort.

Realization flashes across his face as he steps back from you, breathing a heavy sigh. “Professional…” he speaks quietly, testing out the word, searching for the meaning behind why you had used it so pointedly. “Jesus Christ, is that what this is about? You are such a goddamn child, you know that?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, crossing your arms now that he’s given you the room to do so. “Didn’t seem to think of me that way last night. I’m a big girl, I can do what I want, why do you care so much if I wrote a stupid song about you?”

Joel shuts his eyes, scrunching up his face like he’s fighting against what he wants to say next. “Because, fuck—This ain’t what I wanted, okay? Said I wanted to keep it professional between us, not that I wanted you to make a goddamn fool outta me in front’a God and everybody.”

“Well, what do you want?” You push, stepping into his space as your blood begins to boil over. “Because I thought you fucking cared about me, and then you just told me to get lost this morning, like none of it meant anything to you—”

“Of course it fuckin’ meant somethin’ to me, Jesus Christ.” Joel says, so breathlessly it’s like the words escape his mouth before he can catch them. “Did this for your own goddamn good—”

“Oh, for my own good?”

“Yes, for your own good. Because I know what you want this to be, and I can’t give that to you, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Joel doesn’t answer, but he shifts his jaw like he considers it, and lets your angered breathing fill the silence.

“Huh?” You provoke, hitting your palms against his broad chest once. Your push hardly does anything to knock him off his balance, but you swear it makes his eyes darken. “Why not?” You demand a second time.

You can tell he wants to bite back, but he suppresses the instinct, instead backing away from you as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Y’ know what, I ain’t gonna do this with you right now. We can talk about this later.”

Joel makes for the exit, but you dart in front of the door handle, feet planted firmly on the ground as you block his only way out. You grit your teeth as you stare up at him, daring him to either do something about it or finish what he started.

He takes another steadying breath. “Really ain’t helpin’ your case much right about now. I suggest you move, sweetheart.” His voice registers a somewhat eerie calm, the kind that a storm usually follows.

“You don’t get to back out of this.”

“Ain’t backin’ out. Said we’re gonna talk about it later. Move.”

You stare at each other in strained silence for a few moments, neither of you in the mood to give in to the other. You doubt that you’re about to bear witness to the first time Joel has ever submitted to someone else, so you slide away from the door, making a vow to yourself to find him after the show and force him to make good on his word.

“‘S what I thought,” he huffs, unlocking the door and slinking out into the hallway. He holds his head a little too high for someone too scared to tell you how he feels, like it’ll eat him alive if he admits to anyone that he really does have a heart.

You step out of the room and watch him walk, waiting until he gets a few paces away from you to grumble under your breath, “Self-centered and a fucking coward.”

Either Joel wasn’t as far out of earshot as you had thought, or the angry thudding of your pulse inside your head had made it difficult to tell just how loud you had said your little dig. He stops in his tracks, giving you a second to sweat before turning around to face you. “What was that?” he asks, but you already know he had heard you loud and clear. He begins to stalk towards you, and that predatory sway of his shoulders has you suddenly feeling meek.

“N-nothing,” you lie, backing into the dressing room as he continues his prowl.

“Nah, go ahead. You wanna do this right now, we’ll do it right now. What’d you say, baby? C’mon.” Joel’s movement forces you backward until the base of your spine hits the edge of the vanity table in the room. You wince at the impact and the sound of the door slamming shut again, and then he’s bracing both of his hands on either side of your hips, caging you in. Joel’s hot breath ghosts against your face as his eyes seem to glow a fiery shade you’ve never seen before. “Say it again.”

You swallow hard, nervous eyes flitting around his face, unsure of the safest place to land, or if there even is one. “Called you a coward…” you admit softly, voice trembling.

“Yeah? I’m a fuckin’ coward? What else, hm? Why don’t you use your big girl words and say to my face what you really wanted to say about me out there instead o’ that bullshit lil’ poem you wrote.” He’s just being mean now, lashing out because you hit him where it hurts. But god fucking dammit, there’s something about the way he’s standing over you, how he’s using his size to intimidate you and how the smell of his cologne mingles with the fading aroma of his last cigarette, that begins to cloud your judgment. You can’t help the way a dampness begins to bloom between your thighs as a result of his demeaning words and close proximity.

You figure you don’t have much of a reason to hold anything back anymore, already having pissed him off by threatening his ego twice in one night. “I hate you,” you rasp, which is pretty much what the lyrics of your song boil down to. You do hate him, for saying all the right things and touching you all the right ways to make you think he wanted the two of you to be something, only to throw your naivety in your face, tell you that you’re acting like a child when he’s the one who tried to give up and walk out when something became more complicated than he could handle.

“Yeah, I bet you do. Think you can do better than that, though, huh? Sure had plenty to say earlier, don’t get all shy on me now, sweetheart.” He spits the pet name at you like it’s an insult, coated in the venom dripping from his sharp canines.

“Fuck you,” you snap, eyes welling up and threatening to spill over despite yourself.

Joel spins you around as soon as the words leave your lips, pinning your wrists behind your back with just one of his hands, using the other one to grip your jaw and make you face your own reflection in the vanity mirror. You shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to confront what he’s reduced you to, and he allows you to keep them that way for now.

“You want me to? That why you’re all fired up, ‘cause you need Daddy to fuck this bratty ass attitude outta you?” Joel rumbles next to your ear.

You struggle to shake your head in his hold, mumbling, “No, I don’t.”

“No? So if I reach my hand under this lil’ dress, I ain’t gonna feel that pretty pussy drippin’ for me?”

You aren’t sure why you bother lying to him again, humming an mm-mm that sounds more like a whimper.

“Hmm, let’s see about that, then,” Joel muses, releasing your face from his hold to bend you forward and flip up the skirt of your dress. “Would you look at that… panties are ‘bout fuckin’ soaked through, ain’t they?” You whine as he begins to rub your folds over your underwear, pulling back the crotch of them and letting it go so that you can feel the damp snap of the fabric against your sensitive skin. “Thought you were such a good girl… you like it a lil’ mean, hm? ‘S that why you pulled that stunt tonight, to get Daddy all worked up so he’d treat you the way you really been wantin’?”

You feel a stinging smack on your ass before you’ve even finished muttering a complete No. Joel’s rough hand does nothing to soothe the burn as he rubs it around your smarted flesh, squeezing at the plush of your ass with a possessive grip. “Had just about enough of you lyin’ to me tonight. Why don’t you tell me the goddamn truth and I’ll give you what you want, hm? Gonna ask one more time. You want Daddy to beat up this lil’ brat pussy?” He asks, moving his hand back to the wet fabric of your panties, circling your clit over the material with the pad of his finger.

You can’t help but moan at his crude language, releasing another pulse of wetness in response. “Mmh, yes, please—” you mewl.

“Open your fuckin’ eyes,” Joel barks, and it startles you into obedience. “Yes, who?” he challenges, making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror.

He continues his ministrations over your covered clit, and you force your brain to work through the distraction, to give him what he wants and not earn yourself another spank.

“Y-yes, Daddy, I want it,�� you admit, your voice drenched in a pathetic need.

Joel swiftly yanks your panties to the side, practically tearing them clean off your body with one hand in an effort to expose your swollen core to him, not daring to release your aching wrists from the other one’s hold. He circles your dripping entrance with the rough tips of two of his fingers, not pushing all the way inside just yet.

“Think you owe me a goddamn apology first, hm?” he taunts, using his fingers to smear your ashamed slick around your entrance.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry–” you whine, pushing back into him impatiently.

Smack. “For what, baby? What’re you sorry for?” Joel presses, his harsh spank telling you to stay fuckin’ still.

“For… for writing that song… for calling you a c-coward… ‘m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry–” you cry. He shoves both of his thick fingers inside you as your reward, carving out space for them inside your little hole as he starts up a bruising pace, the obscene wet sounds of his movements filling the room and mingling with your broken little wails. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, getting ordered around and talked down to and used like this by someone you said you hated only a few minutes ago, but you don’t really care to unpack that right now. Or ever. Maybe you were naive and immature in thinking that this thing you’ve gotten yourself into could ever pan out like what you’ve seen in the movies, but you think you could learn to be content with what he is willing to offer you—praise doled out as easily as he deprives you of it, a firm hand and fingers that can strum along your clit as expertly as he does the strings of his guitar, and a cock that makes you feel like someone else entirely, that can send you somewhere far away and bring you back down to earth at the same time. You let him use his fingers to pound all that angst and fire and attitude out of you as your eyelids flutter shut again, losing yourself in the feeling of him.

“How many times I gotta tell you, huh? Keep ‘em open, look, baby,” Joel commands, letting go of your wrists to deliver a light smack to the side of your face. You fall forward at the sudden release of his hold, catching yourself on the vanity table and digging your nails into the hard surface to ground yourself. His punishing hand forces your gaze straight ahead with a claw-like grip on your jaw, and your eyelids still feel so heavy, everything moving slowly as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your parted lips, smeared mascara, and unfocused gaze paint a debauched version of yourself that you don’t recognize, blurred by the sleepy submissive state he seems to be able to plunge you into so easily. “Take a good goddamn look in the mirror, at what I’m doin’ to you, and you tell me if you really want this.”

Every sharp thrust of his hand against your cunt knocks loose more and more of your ability to think, let alone speak. But you know by now that if Joel demands a response from you, he’ll get one, coherent or not. He seems to like it when your words come out a ruined mess of whines and slurred syllables, anyway, getting off on how hard and fast he can knock down those walls you attempt to put up and turn you into something so servile and saccharine.

“Want it, please, Daddy,” you beg, struggling to hold yourself up as his fingers get you closer and closer to your release.

“You sure about that? ‘Cause this is what you’re gonna get, sweetheart,” Joel grunts, the exaggerated word punctuated by the stretch of a third finger joining the other two inside your already fucked-out cunt.

“D-don’t care, just want you—ah—” you’re cut off by the sudden stroking of Joel’s curled fingers against a particularly tender and unfamiliar spot inside you. You begin to unravel at the overwhelming feeling, letting out little wanton pleases and Daddys as you continue to soak his tattooed hand.

“Fuck, gonna be the goddamn death o’ me, lil’ songbird, you know that? Tried to stop this shit before it could get started, tried to keep you away from me, but I just can’t seem to fuckin’ help myself, can I? We’d be nothin’ but bad for each other, but—shit—been thinkin’ ‘bout this tight cunt all goddamn day, couldn’t get the taste o’ you outta my mouth. Reckon I never will… In fact—” Joel pulls his fingers out of you in an instant, and you cry out from the sudden loss as you watch him suck them clean in the mirror. You feel dizzy, letting him manhandle you as he spins you around to face him and hoists you on top of the vanity table with little effort. He groans as he crouches, pulling your drenched panties down your legs and tossing them somewhere behind him. With your raw-looking cunt now fully exposed to him, he spreads your legs wide and curses under his breath, “Should’a done this shit last night, fuck—” before diving in between your thighs and licking a long stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. He latches onto the sensitive nub, closing his eyes and sucking hard as his large hands force your legs to stay open. You let your upper back rest against the mirror as he works you over, and the cool glass sends a shiver down your spine as your hips tilt upward, allowing him better access.

He drinks from you as if you taste like his favorite top-shelf whiskey, growling into your flesh as he’s surely leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the softness of your thighs. He alternates between swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking it in and out of your hole, beckoning you to spill yourself into his mouth. He savors every wave of slick that pours from you, each of your little cries and whimpers making his cock strain harder against the confines of his jeans.

You can’t help but let one of your hands drift to his hair, and he doesn’t stop you from grabbing onto his messy curls as you buck pathetically against his tongue.

“Such a sweet lil’ cunt, got me fuckin’ addicted to it, I swear…” Joel half-whispers, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to make up for the absence of his tongue as he speaks, your hips still desperately chasing after his movements. He spits onto your folds once, watching it drip between the curves of them for a moment before lapping up your combined juices and picking up where he left off. Your eyes are shut tight, brows peaked with need as you beg him to keep going, please, Daddy, gonna come.

Joel pulls away again just enough to tease, “Always come for me so easily, don’t you? Sing for me, songbird, c’mon.” A few more rough strums of his thumb and pulses of his tongue have you crying out, shaking where you sit on the table as you gush into his waiting mouth. Joel works you through it as you practically ride his face, your hips twitching with each overstimulating flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit.

He doesn’t wait very long for you to come back into yourself, the impatient bastard that he is, before he’s commanding you to open and using his strong fingers to yank your jaw downward. Your eyes blink open just in time to watch him spit a mouthful of your own release onto your waiting tongue, and then he’s pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, tongues twisting around each other as he forces you to taste yourself. So immersed in the distraction of finally feeling his lips against your own, you don’t notice when he loosens his grip on your face to grab one of your hands instead, placing it on his still-clothed bulge and growling into your mouth as you massage the hard shape of him.

“Feel what you do to me, babygirl?” Joel breaks the kiss to ask, voice low and eyes dark. “Even if I kept you away from me, wouldn’t fuckin’ matter. Still have to take care o’ myself one way or another, would just be pretendin’ it was your perfect cunt squeezin’ me instead o’ my hand, anyway. Might as well stick to the real thing, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree, lashes fluttering at his filthy words.

“Yeah? You want it? Want Daddy to split you open again?”

Your skin is burning hot, every one of your nerve endings on fire with need, and you don’t care how pitiful you sound when you answer with, “Please, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Joel praises. He makes quick work of ridding himself of his belt, tossing it aside to join your discarded panties on the floor with a metallic thud before freeing his leaking cock from his jeans. He prods the thick head at your entrance, still so wet and stretched out from the earlier efforts of his fingers and tongue that he slides inside with hardly any resistance. “Greedy thing…” he hisses, holding onto your hips as he watches his thick length begin to slide in and out of you. A flash of silver catches his attention from the edge of his vision, and he focuses there instead, on the cross shaped charm dangling from your neck and resting between your breasts. He picks it up between his large thumb and forefinger, rubbing the pads of them along the smooth metal. “Probably shouldn’t be wearin’ such a thing anymore, hm? Now that I know how much of a whore you really are.”

“Not… ‘m not a whore,” you counter, but it’s so futile, meaning nothing at all when you really take a look at where you are now, how it all began, and how your voice cracks in your poor attempt to prove him wrong.

“Y’ are, though, songbird. ‘S okay that you are. Only for me though, huh? Jus’ Daddy’s whore? All mine?” Joel drops the cross in favor of cradling your cheek, hurrying his pace as he taunts you. There’s no use in denying it, not when his degrading words prompt your cunt to squeeze around him and provide more slick aid for his quickening thrusts, an involuntary whine escaping your throat. You’re seeing such a different side to him now than the one he showed you the night before, and you begin to wonder which one is the real Joel, or if either of them are, or if both of them are, somehow. Or if he even knows. You’re willing to take whichever one he decides to let you have, you think.

“Y-your whore, Daddy… wanna be yours, please,” you babble, his cock hitting you deep and hard as you let him fuck you so dumb you allow yourself to just give in and agree to whatever he says you are, whatever he wants you to be, just the way he likes.

“Fuck,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, removing his hand from your face and to grip onto the plush of your hip again. Your pliant state and filthy admission combined with that sinful symbol around your neck spur him on, and he uses his hold on your skin to fuck into you with abandon. “Really would just let me ruin you, huh? Tried to be a decent man for once in my goddamn life, but you just had to be a fuckin’ brat about it and start some shit, didn’t you? If you don’t want me decent, tha’s fine by me, baby. But lemme make somethin’ real goddamn clear to you,” he rambles, each slam of his hips into yours getting you closer to release for the second time. He delivers another sharp slap to your cheek with a You listenin’? and you nod to the best of your ability, finding it impossible to focus your eyes on him as that knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“You want this, you wanna be mine, you can be mine, babygirl. Lord knows I’d find my way right back inside this sinful lil’ cunt, anyway. But this ain’t gonna be a fuckin’ relationship, you understand? Take it or leave it, songbird.” He slows his thrusts as he spells out his ultimatum, but they still make you ache, all the same. His fiery gaze bores a hole straight through your skull as he awaits your response.

“Take it, w-wanna take it, Daddy.” The desperation in your voice and painted across your expression have him returning to his punitive pace, grunting and swearing into the warm skin of your neck as your hands scramble across his back, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his shoulder. His thick leather jacket helps to muffle your cries as he loses all control, using your body to chase after his own high.

“Course you’re gonna take it, filthy thing. Made to fuckin’ take it, Christ,” Joel rambles, your vocalizations increasing in pitch as you squeeze around him, whole body tensing as your sore pussy prepares to drench him one more time. “So goddamn desperate… Just take whatever I give you, however I wanna give it to you, always have you comin’ on my cock just the same, huh? Go on, babygirl, come for Daddy again, tha’s right…”

With his permission, and a few more just-right strokes of his tip against that sweet spot deep inside your walls, you’re spasming in his hold, whining that filthy title you had just used against him less than an hour ago. He spills his release into you at the same time, and despite the way he’s treated you and the words he’s spat at you tonight, it makes you feel whole again.

You breathe heavily against each other for a few minutes, neither of you wanting to let go as you both struggle to process what the hell just happened, what it will mean for the remainder of the tour.

A sudden knock at the door quickly yanks you out of your thoughts, offering a taste of what the future may hold much earlier than you were expecting.

“Joel? You in there?” a voice asks from outside the dressing room.

“Huh…? Yeah, just gimme a–”

The door opens before Joel can finish answering, and you can see clear as day over his shoulder that it’s Jesse.

He claps his hand over his eyes when he notices you, but you can still see how his cheeks burn red under his fingers as he shifts where he stands, undoubtedly trying to come up with the least mortifying way to get himself out of this situation.

“Jesus, kid–” Joel grumbles, finally pulling out of you and shoving his still-slick cock back into his briefs. He zips himself up as you tug the skirt of your dress back down to cover yourself, still feeling much more exposed than you’d like as you eye your forgotten panties laying just a few feet from where Jesse stands.

“Sorry! Sorry, Joel. It’s just, uh—”

Joel turns to face him as he finishes adjusting himself, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t walk away from you completely, using his broad form to provide you with what little modesty he can afford under the circumstances. “What, Jess?” he barks, exasperated.

“Um… The guys asked me to come find you, we’re on in like a minute—”

“Well, tell ‘em to hold their fuckin’ horses. I’m comin,” Joel orders.

“A-alright, I will, man. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you out there.”

Jesse leaves the room as hurriedly as he had entered, nervously fumbling with the handle as he shuts the door on his way out. “That kid ever learn how to fuckin’ knock?” Joel mutters to himself, picking his belt up off the floor and looping it back around his waist. He retrieves your ruined panties when he’s done and casually tosses them over to you, a stark contrast from the attentive aftercare he had provided last night. You slide off the vanity table and tug them back on over your legs, shivering at the feeling of the cool, damp fabric against where you’re so sensitive and sore, still leaking Joel’s spend. You fidget with the hem of your dress and try to ignore the way your heart sinks into your stomach, wondering what Jesse must think of you now. You haven’t really spoken to him at all since this whole thing started, and you doubt you ever will after what happened tonight. Of course, he’d had a front row seat to your obscene little performance during Kiss it Better, but it was all just an act, as far as he knew. But he has more than enough confirmation now to know that it very much wasn’t, and the humiliation of it all makes your anxious imagination begin to run wild. Your bottom lip quivers at the thought of Jesse running straight back to the guys with a shit-eating look on his face, eager to tell them all about how he just saw their opening act with her legs spread for Joel in his dressing room. Images flash through your mind of the band you’ve looked up to for so long now shooting you dirty looks backstage and whispering about you amongst themselves, sharing their doubts about if you really deserve to be touring with them at all. Maybe they’d call you easy, say that you’re just another dumb slut who gave it up for the first rockstar who asked, that your career will be doomed unless you grow up and learn to respect yourself a little more. And maybe they’d be right.

You can’t stop a few hot tears from rolling down your cheek at your catastrophizing, but you wipe them away quickly. This is what you asked for, isn’t it? Joel had given you an opportunity to leave this where he had ended it, and you were the one who had begged to be his, even after he showed you what it would look like, and told you explicitly what it would never be. You pull your shoulders back and make an effort to stand up a little straighter as he addresses you again, not wanting to look like some pathetic, defeated thing.

“You good? Need anythin’?” Joel asks, and it would be kind of sweet if he weren’t halfway out the door already.

You sniffle a little, but try to feign nonchalance as you shake your head and reply, “No, ‘m fine.”

You must not do a very good job of it, because he’s craning his neck to look down the hallway as soon as you finish your sentence, like he knows exactly what’s on your mind. “Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Joel says to you, giving an annoyed shake of his head. “If he knows what’s good for him he’ll go to his grave swearin’ he didn’t see anything. Kid knows better,” he reassures, and it does help to slow the unspooling of your thoughts some.

“Okay,” is all you offer, along with a small smile.

Joel nods curtly, “Okay.” And after another beat and a rake of his eyes along your form, “I’ll see ya, songbird.”

He’s gone before you can reply, and you let the sound of the door closing ring out in your ears until you’re left in total silence, save for the sound of your own unsteady breathing. More than anything else, you just want to head back to your bus and scrub yourself clean of him, to put on unstained clothes and remove your ruined makeup so that you have a better chance of recognizing yourself in the mirror if you’re unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of your reflection. Maybe if you hurry the pace of your walk of shame, you can outrun the feeling altogether, you think, swinging the dressing room door open and letting it slam behind you as you make a swift exit, heading straight for the one place that even slightly resembles a home to you right now. You keep your head low as you wander the unfamiliar backstage halls, and hold the skirt of your dress down against the breeze that threatens to expose you yet again when you push open the venue’s back door. More tears begin to fall as your boots carry you up the steps of your bus and lead you to your private little room in the back, and you don’t wipe them away this time, although you can’t put your finger on why they stream down your skin so impatiently, one stinging droplet after another.

You sit down heavily on the edge of your bed, although you have a strange urge to kneel at the foot of it instead. Your fingers find their way to your crucifix as you contemplate the idea, and it hits you all at once how very lost you feel. You miss… something. Your mother? Perhaps not, but maybe the idea of having a caregiver, someone to turn to when you feel the way you do now, to help you sort through the tangled knot of emotions unraveling itself in your heart and attempt to make some kind of sense of it. She wasn’t the perfect mother, by any means, but she tried, and it was her first time being a woman too, after all. You are following in her footsteps, as many daughters aspire to do with their mothers, but you don’t think she would be very proud of the particular path of hers you’ve begun to find yourself stumbling down—the one that leads you to a man who won’t change himself, who can’t, but who you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you deserve, because you’ve never known a man who’s told you otherwise.

And now here you sit, alone, in the dark cave of your too-big bus on the second night of a career-changing national tour, crying girlish tears and missing something you can’t place but that you know you can’t go back to, wishing someone could just wipe your mind clean and tell you that you’re good and that you’re not a disappointment to your mother and God even though you don’t really care what they think of you anymore, anyway. You need someone to tell you who you are, and Joel seems to know the answer—a good girl, a whore, his songbird. You shift at the memories of when those names for you have spilled from his mouth, and you’re reminded of the wet fabric still pressed against your core. It feels good when he tells you who you are, after all, when he slots himself inside of you and makes you feel like something he owns, when he makes you feel perfect and floaty and beautiful and like he knows you better than you’ve ever known yourself.

And how could something that feels so good ever be bad for you?

—

The whiskey burns as it slides down the back of Joel’s throat, but it still isn’t strong enough. All it does is remind him of the igniting spark that led to the blaze now engulfing him—when you’d both had a few glasses of the stuff swimming around in your blood streams in the green room of last night’s venue, when he’d lured you onto his lap and teased the wet spot on your panties and asked if you’d let him touch you. He knew you were going to say yes, but it was still the respectable thing to do, and he had liked hearing you beg for it all pretty and polite. He fears that’s the last he may have seen of that version of you, that what he did this morning had stomped out the little delicate, glimmering light that had drawn him to you in the first place. And if it wasn’t snuffed out then, it’s surely nothing but a wisp of smoke now.

Joel had recognized when everything had started to become too real too fast, in the dark of his bus last night when even in your sleep, you had seemed to consider him as something warm and comforting and safe, instead of the beast that he knows himself to be, with too sharp of claws and too loud of a roar. He had tried to do the right thing for once in his goddamn life by finally thinking about someone other than himself, so why didn’t you take the opportunity to get out of this while you had the chance? What is it that you see in him that he knows for a fact isn’t there, has never been there? You had retaliated because you had wanted this to work, because he had hurt you when he shoved you away, but he can’t possibly fathom why you’ve chosen to fight so hard for this. And he’d only gone and proved himself right when he responded to your reprisal the only way he knows how, especially when you’d used that word against him that he’s always been avoidant to admit about himself—coward.

And you were right, weren’t you? Joel is a fucking coward. He does everything in his power to pretend otherwise, to show his fans and the world a version of himself who’s never for a second thought of himself as anything less than God incarnate. And maybe except for Tommy, no one has ever been the wiser to his ruse, until you. And it scares him, to be seen so clearly. Because then he might actually have to try to understand where all these defense mechanisms came from in the first place, and he can’t have that.

Coward.

Joel tosses back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, releasing his white-knuckled grip on it and slamming it back down onto the green room’s bar cart. He knows that his band and about twenty thousand people are waiting for him to buck up and emerge from yet another hiding place, and he realizes that this is becoming a pattern with you—you awaken some long-dormant feeling from deep inside of him, it makes him feel threatened, and he retreats until it goes away and he remembers how to paint his mask back on. And the one time you didn’t allow him to run away, he lashed out like a caged animal and undoubtedly gave you a pretty solid idea of what he meant by “for your own good”. And yet, you were so desperate to be allowed any part of him at all that even in his most volatile and beastly state, with his talons out and his teeth bared, you didn’t run away. You didn’t even try. You didn’t want to. You took everything he had given you like it was a privilege to do so, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand why.

Joel shakes himself out, hitting a solid hand against his cheek once in order to bring himself back from the depths of another unwanted episode of introspection and self-loathing, and lets the burn of the whiskey dissipate as he makes his way to where the rest of Death’s Head is waiting for him. He can feel their eyes on him without even needing to look, and snaps out a defensive I don’t wanna hear it before any of the guys get a chance to say anything.

Tommy shrugs, stepping up to Joel with his arms crossed. “Wasn’t gonna say nothin’.”

Joel finally turns to face the group, giving each member a scrutinizing once-over in an attempt to read their body language, to suss out if they’re just pissed because he left them waiting, or if Jesse ran his mouth while he was gone. When Joel’s examining eyes land on the dark-haired guitarist, Jesse’s quick to shake his head, mouthing the words they don’t know. Satisfied, Joel nods once in understanding, adjusting his jacket and cracking his neck before turning toward the stage again.

“Y’all ready, or what?” he mutters rhetorically, not bothering to wait for an answer before he marches his way into the spotlights and allows them to enshroud him, burning up what remains of that cowardly version of him, if only for the remainder of the night. Joel picks up his guitar, swinging the strap around his chest before fiddling with his mic stand as the deafening sound of the crowd reminds him of who the fuck he is, or at least, who they think he is. Who he pretends to be. And he gets to believe it for the next two hours. If he plays the part well enough, maybe he can lose himself in it entirely. But then, hasn’t he been trying to do that for the past couple of decades? It hasn’t seemed to work yet, but it doesn’t hurt to keep trying.

Or maybe it does.

—

You feel a little better now, more at ease, now that you’ve had some time to focus on taking care of yourself. It’s easy to forget the wonders that a hot shower can do for a girl, especially when you have to fight against your own brain just to get up and take the ten or so steps towards the bathroom, when you’d much rather stay curled up in the same position on your bed until your skin adheres to the sheets. Now having scrubbed away the tears and the sweat and the tacky dampness between your thighs, you emerge from a cloud of rose-scented humidity as someone you think you understand a little better now, who deserves to be taken care of instead of reprimanded for only doing her best with what she’s been given.

With clean hair and skin and a comfortable change of sleep-ready attire, you decide to finally make some efforts to unpack your suitcase and make your little room feel more like a home. You hang your dresses up on the rack, set your shoes into a somewhat orderly line on the carpet below them, and place your jewelry neatly onto the antique tray you had carefully packed away to bring along with you. You had found it in a little thrift store downtown, when you had first left home and decided you needed something that was only yours, something pretty and special that you could look at everyday and know that it was the very first step in building the life that you had always wanted for yourself. The brass needs a little polishing, but it’s still one of the most beautiful objects you’ve ever seen, and the way the ceiling lights glint off the metal brightens up your space just enough that it feels a little more familiar to you now.

Your earrings and other necklaces fill the blank space in the center of the neatly carved filigree, and you make the decision to add your crucifix to the pile of silver studs and chains. It’s strange how such a simple charm can make things feel so complicated. You haven’t taken it off in so long that you fear the guilt that might come with removing it, but you figure it will still be there for you if you ever feel like clipping it around your neck again. And if that feeling never comes, then you’ll deal with that then, too.

For now, you breathe a little deeper without the weight of the thing resting against your chest, and smile to yourself when you hear a small group of excitable-sounding male voices approaching your bus. Your bandmates file through the door a second later, though you’re suddenly shy to greet them as you emerge from your bedroom, worried that they might be pissed at you for what you sprung on them earlier in the night. You lean against the doorframe as they each collapse onto the living area couches, cracking open beers from the minifridge and passing them around to each other.

“Hey, you,” greets your floppy-haired drummer, Max, patting the cushion next to him. If any of the guys were to be easy going about what you put them through tonight, it would be him. You’re happy to see that he doesn’t seem to hold any animosity towards you. “You want me to crack one open for you?” he offers.

“Um… sure,” you agree, approaching the group and relaxing into the open seat next to him as he hands you a bottle. You take a few swigs while the guys begin to talk amongst themselves, waiting for an opportune lull in their conversation for you to chime in.

It comes about halfway through your beer. “So, listen,” you start, setting the sweating bottle on the table in front of you as you feel their gazes shift in your direction. “I’m sorry for pulling that on you guys tonight. This whole thing is just as big for y’all as it is for me and… I guess I forgot about that, for a second,” you say, although the end of your sentence kind of sounds like a question. “I really appreciate how you backed me up out there, that’s all.”

It’s rare that the four of you get sincere with each other like this, and your apology lingers in the air for a moment before someone else speaks up.

“It’s alright, kid.” The comforting voice comes from Scott, your quiet and kind-eyed bassist. “We’re all professionals here, yeah? We’d be some sad fuckin’ musicians if we couldn’t improvise every once in a while.” You laugh at that, and his lopsided smile warms you when you meet his soft expression.

“I mean, I kinda fucked up a little bit,” says Joey, your rhythm guitarist, ever-reliable for lightening the mood. “You sounded badass though, so whatever. Nothin’ you need to apologize for.” When you turn your head to look at him, he looks slightly uncomfortable with the way Max has him pressed up against the wall, but his gaze is sincere. “You wanna talk about it, though? Some pretty heavy shit you wrote.”

You do consider it, but shake your head, having reflected on it quite enough for one night. “Not right now,” you reply, and he gives you a sympathetic smile in return. “One of you have a smoke, though? Think I’m just gonna get some air and call it a night.”

“Now, how are you gonna ‘get some air’ with all that smoke in your lungs?” Scott jests, and you give him a look before standing up and holding your palm out flat to him, making a hand it over gesture with your fingers.

“Don’t give me shit, dude, I know you have one. That’s why I asked.”

Despite his protest, he digs the pack out of his pocket and slides one out, playfully holding it hostage against his chest. “Still shouldn’t smoke ‘em, though. Gonna ruin your voice one of these days.”

You roll your eyes at him, but laugh, anyway. “Fine, tonight’s my last one, I promise. Just gimme.”

Scott extends his hand out to you, and you snatch the cigarette out of his hold. “Light, too?” he asks, and you nod, leaning down to him with it in your mouth already.

You make a quick exit when the tobacco begins to burn, trying to fill the bus with as little smoke as possible, but not before making your appreciation known to the guys one last time. When you step out into the chilly night air, you wish you’d brought a sweater to wrap around you, but figure the flame between your lips will warm you up soon enough.

The Death’s Head bus is parked just up ahead, and you can make out Jesse’s silhouette in the moonlight, his back leaned against the idling vehicle as he puffs his own cloud into the sky. The sound of your bus’s door shutting behind you draws his attention your way, and you give each other a friendly nod as you each burn through your cigarettes.

“Can I join you?” he asks, having to shout in order for his voice to reach you over the rumbling engines.

The fears you were ruminating on a few hours ago all come rushing back to you in an instant, but his inquiry seems casual enough for you to let your guard back down a little. It would be rude of you to decline, and it might be nice to get to know him a bit more if he’s offering, you suppose.

“Yeah, okay,” you reply, nodding for good measure in case your voice didn’t come out loud enough. His long legs close the short distance between you in just a few seconds, and you shove your unoccupied hand into your pocket in an effort to come across more relaxed than you feel. You’ve never been great at small talk, or meeting new people, especially ones who’ve walked in on you after having just been fucked by the lead singer of his band.

You’re grateful that Jesse decides to break the silence first. “So, uh… you two, huh?”

“Mhm,” is all you offer, kicking a rock around the asphalt with the toe of your shoe.

“Yeah… Well, I don’t want you to feel weird around me, or anything. We can just forget it ever happened.”

You can’t help but release a puff of smoke through an awkward giggle. “Sounds good to me.”

“And I didn’t tell the other two, just so you know.”

His admission makes you pause, trapping the rock underneath your shoe as you peer up at him. “You didn’t? So… they don’t know?”

Jesse shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Well, Tommy might, just ‘cause he knows Joel better than anybody, but Eugene’s probably clueless. They’re all good guys, they won’t give you shit for it even if they do find out… I might, though, just for fun.” He nudges your shoulder with his as he jokes, and it makes you laugh a little more earnestly this time. “Just… be careful, that’s all. And I want you to know you have a friend in me, if you ever feel like you need one.”

His kindness is nearly enough to bring you to tears. You feel so relieved that everything the worst parts of your brain had conjured up had all been a lie, that Jesse isn’t who you feared he’d be, and that he’s offering you his friendship, even after he’d seen you in such an embarrassing and compromising state tonight.

“Jess!” Joel yells from the doorway of his bus, and the harsh gravel voice startles both of you out of the moment you’d been sharing. “Finish up, kid. Takin’ off in a few.”

Jesse nods, raising the end of his cigarette in acknowledgement before stomping it out on the pavement. “It was nice talking to you. Remember what I said, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, and he’s handsome and boyish when he smiles back at you before following his orders and jogging back to his own bus, sliding through the door past Joel’s broad form.

Joel’s expression is hard, but otherwise unreadable as he juts his chin at you, wordlessly suggesting the same direction he’d just barked at Jesse. He shuts the door behind him as he steps inside, and you think on Jesse’s words as you finish puffing your smoke down to a nub. Be careful, he’d cautioned, and it’s like he had been waiting outside for you to make sure he had a chance to tell you that. Remember what I said, like it was important to him that you took his words to heart. You finally toss the end of your own cigarette onto the ground, letting it sizzle out before heading back inside and carefully passing the now-occupied bunks as you make your way to your own little sanctuary.

You’re still buzzing from the tobacco as you close yourself into your room and crawl into bed, and you can’t decide if the emptiness of it makes you feel comforted or afraid. You don’t necessarily wish you had Joel’s heavy, lumbering form tucked in beside you, but you hadn’t anticipated how having a bed to yourself would leave you with only the company of your own thoughts. You try not to dwell too much on Jesse’s warning, instead trying to snuff it out like the smoldering end of your cigarette so that it doesn’t prevent you from getting some much needed rest.

Even for being a bed inside of a tour bus, you have to admit that it’s one of the most comfortable, luxurious things you’ve ever slept on, especially compared to the lumpy double bed from back in your apartment. You don’t fight it when sleep begins to pull heavily on your eyelids, the incoming wave of it washing away any lingering anxieties as you allow yourself to relax into the plush mattress.

You hardly rouse even as the bus heaves forward on its trip out of the parking lot, leaving everything that happened tonight exactly where you left it, the ghost of it now left to wander the halls of the venue instead of haunting you as you travel to the next one. And there’s something comforting in that, you think, in the idea that nothing on this tour is permanent, that your life begins anew every 24 hours in a city you’ve never been to that doesn’t know your name yet.

And maybe that’s how you’ll figure this whole thing out, by taking it one day at a time, fluttering as close to the flame as possible without touching it, because you kind of like feeling the heat on your wings. As long as you’re careful when you dance around the fire, then there’s really nothing to be afraid of.

But only time will tell.

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