#this came to me at 3 in the morning so of course i'm posting it here

[king-of-colors]

i love charles rowland and his fuck ass dangly earring <3

[kiss-inthekitchen]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

[isaadore]

SPOOKY SEASON CHARLES LECLERC

pairing dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader

SUMMARY amélie never misses an opportunity to be just like her dad. word count 0.3k words

warnings pure fluff, short

note it's been a while since i posted anything, so i'm glad to be back 🙏 i hope u guys enjoy this blurb of amélie and charles during halloween <3

It was Halloween morning, and the house was buzzing with excitement. You were adding some last-minute touches to the decorations when Charles and Amélie came racing down the stairs. Well, Charles was walking, but Amélie, at four years old, was practically bouncing, dressed up in a miniature Ferrari jumpsuit, her curly brown hair tied back into pigtails.

“Look, Maman!” Amélie announced proudly, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m Papa!”

You stifled a laugh as you noticed the matching outfits. Charles wore his signature red Ferrari racing suit, and Amélie, his little shadow, wore an almost identical version of it, down to the number 16 on the back.

Charles beamed, clearly as proud as Amélie. “She insisted, you know. Said she wanted to be just like Papa this Halloween.”

You chuckled, bending down to fix Amélie’s collar. “And she does look exactly like you. Only cuter, of course.”

Amélie tugged at her racing suit and looked up at Charles. “Papa, can we practice like we’re at the race track? I want to do a pit stop!”

Charles laughed, picking her up and spinning her around. “Of course, mon ange (my angel)! Let’s go. You’ll be the fastest on the track tonight.”

The two of them ran around the living room, pretending to pit-stop every few minutes. Charles even brought out a small replica steering wheel he had customized for her, and they spent most of the afternoon running around the house, “racing” through the kitchen, dodging ghosts on the stairs, and stopping for quick “pit stops” that Charles managed to sneak a snack into.

Later, as the evening approached, the three of you headed out for trick-or-treating. Amélie held Charles’s hand tightly, practically buzzing with excitement in her little Ferrari suit, a mini version of her father’s confidence on display.

As you strolled through the neighbourhood, you caught glimpses of people smiling as they recognized Charles, but it was Amélie who caught everyone’s attention. She was radiant, proudly announcing to everyone that she was “just like Papa.”

After the last house and a bucket full of candy, Amélie held Charles’s hand, looking up at him with sleepy but happy eyes. “Papa, this was the best Halloween ever,” she whispered.

Charles knelt down and kissed her forehead. “For me too, papillon (butterfly).”

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ AU MASTERLIST

[these-lovely-monsters]

Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 3

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader

Content: tentacles, eldritch monster

A/N: Here is part 3 at last! It started to get a bit long so I decided to break it up into 2 parts. This one is just fluff (no smut), but don't worry, I am posting part 4 with more tentacle shenanigans at the same time so you won't have to wait!

Since it fits, I'm also tagging this for #10 Tentacles from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

The next morning you wake to the bright sunlight streaming through the open window of your bedroom. Blinking open groggy eyes, you stretch your sore muscles with a groan. You smile to yourself at the memories from last night as you admire the bright red circular marks that cover your skin. You realize then that the tentacle monster is no longer holding your hand.

Leaning over the side of your bed, you peer under it but there’s nothing there. You sigh in disappointment and get up to grab some clothes from your closet. Just as you finish pulling them on, a soft rustling sound comes from behind you and you turn in excitement.

To your delight, you see a few tentacles peeking out from under your bed, gently feeling around on the sheets as if looking for you.

“You came back!” You exclaim as you rush over to it.

“Of course, my sweet. I will never leave you,” its deep, cosmic voice echoes in your head. Before you have a chance to wonder at its statement, it continues, “Did you rest well?”

“Yeah.” A small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, “Thank you.” Biting your lip, you tentatively ask, “Will…will you come out so I can see you?”

The monster is quiet for a beat before saying, “I do not want to scare you.”

How bad could it really be? 

“I won’t be afraid, I promise.”

“I am not like your kind or anything that lives in this dimension.”

This dimension? Now you’re really curious, but you decide to table those questions for later in favor of coaxing this monster out from under your bed.

“I know,” you say as you take a step forward. You’ve already jumped way past the line of sanity by letting it fuck you with its tentacles so you might as well dive into the deep end at this point. “But you’ve seen all of me and I want to see all of you in return.”

It doesn't say anything for several moments and you wait patiently. “Very well,” it finally replies.

You watch with bated breath as the tentacles begin to slide forward. Soon there are dozens spilling from beneath your bed, squirming and writhing as a massive shape begins to form. Within moments, the monster has fully emerged and is looming over you, nearly blocking out the light from the window.

You gape in awe at the creature before you. Amidst the sea of tentacles that writhe from every side, is an amorphous, dark mass. You can’t quite tell what it’s made of but it looks almost like goo. When you take a step closer to get a better look, you can see that the surface is not actually black, but rather a deep shade of dark purple. The color appears to shimmer in the daylight as it gently undulates under your gaze. You also notice that it’s slightly transparent since you can make out the faint outline of your desk behind it.

As you stare at the creature, trying to drink in all the details, the tentacles begin to shift along its body so that a blank space forms on the side that’s facing you. Without warning, dozens of eyes suddenly blink open in front of you and you yelp in surprise. When a wide slit appears below the eyes, revealing two rows of black, razor sharp teeth, your breath catches in your throat and you take a half step back.

The tentacles droop at your reaction. “See? I told you that you would not like what you saw.”

“No!” You hurry to explain, “I was just startled, that’s all.”

“I will change my form to better suit your liking.”

You watch in fascination as the tentacles begin to melt into the dark mass until they are all gone. The eyes and mouth close and disappear as well. Its body then begins to morph, rippling and shuttering as it reforms into a roughly humanoid shape. Amazingly, the surface also flickers as the color lightens to a soft pink.

Two of its eyes blink open again in the approximate location of where human eyes would be. Except that one of the eyes is a bit too low, looking as if it’s melting off. The mouth also reappears, much smaller this time, but still with the same deadly teeth. When the monster stretches its mouth wide in a gut-churning imitation of a smile, you grimace.

Now this is utterly terrifying.

Swallowing the bile that’s trying to climb up your throat, you manage to choke out, “No—no that’s ok. I like your normal form just fine.”

“Are you sure? Would this not make you more comfortable?”

“I’m sure,” you say with a pained smile. “You can change back.”

“Very well then.”

You sigh in relief when the monster quickly shifts back to its original shape. When it first appeared, you thought it was beautiful in its own way, with its shimmering surface and gorgeous dark purple color. But now, after seeing the monstrosity of its “humanoid” version, you find that you quite like its true form.

“Much better,” you say with a genuine smile this time. Your grin only widens when it wriggles in obvious pleasure at your words.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” You ask, realizing you never actually had a proper introduction.

“I am called *garbled noises*”

Whatever name it just gave you is completely unintelligible to you. “Umm…sorry, what?”

It repeats the same unintelligible noises again and you wince, knowing it will be impossible for you to grasp, let alone repeat. “I uh—I don’t know if I can pronounce that. But the beginning kind of sounds like ‘Karl’. Would it be alright if I called you that?”

“You—you would give me a name?” It asks in a stunned tone.

Worried that you may have offended it, you try to backtrack a little, “I don’t have to! Only if you’re ok with it, I mean. I just—”

“I would be honored to be named you,” it interrupts you, its voice reverent.

Sighing in relief, you grin. “Ok then. It’s nice to meet you, Karl.”

“Kaaarrrlll,” it says, dragging out the sounds as if testing them out. “I shall be Karl from now on. Thank you very much for this gift, I will cherish it for eternity.”

Reaching out a tentacle towards you, Karl curls the end into a ball and holds it there. You stare down at it in confusion, blinking a few times. “What…what are you doing?”

“Is this not what humans do in greeting?” Karl replies, reaching down to grab your opposite arm with a tentacle. It wraps around your hand, manipulating it until your hand is in a fist. Then Karl lightly taps its balled up tentacle against your closed fist and says, “Sup, bro?”

You continue to stare in utter confusion for a moment until it dawns on you that Karl just tried to fist bump you and you burst out laughing.

“What is so amusing?” It asks in a mildly affronted voice. “I have seen many humans greet each other this way. The ones who throw around the big orange ball do this a lot.”

“That’s not…” you try to reply through wheezing gasps but you’re still laughing too hard. After a minute, you finally settle down and catch your breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… that’s how friends might greet each other.”

“Are we not friends?”

“Well…” you hesitate. “We could be. But since we…Uh... Since we were intimate… That’s not how lovers would greet each other.” You manage to stumble through your explanation, hoping Karl understands what you’re trying to say.

“Are we…” it pauses, as if mulling over the word, “lovers?”

“I mean, I guess?” You hedge, not quite meaning for it to come out as a question.

“And how do lovers greet each other?”

Laughing awkwardly, you rub the back of your neck. “They…would kiss each other.” You can feel your cheeks flaming at the thought. This monster literally fucked you senseless twice and here you are, blushing like a school girl at the thought of kissing it.

“Kiss?”

Oh gods. Your cheeks manage to grow even hotter. Taking a step closer so that you’re only a few inches from Karl, you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, like this,” you say as you lean in and place a soft kiss on its now closed mouth.

Karl is quiet for a moment before demanding, “Do it again.”

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

taglist: @blushycadaver @pearlofrose @gothicsugarslvt

[hettyoon]

❥︎ Characters; Rafayel, Xavier Game; Love and deepspace

❥︎ Genre; fluff !! Prompt; 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙐𝙋 || established relationship || 2nd pov

❥︎ Warnings; none !!

❥︎ Notes; this is either going to be a new start for my writing era or I'm going to post this and dip for another year or two, we'll see. (also only rafayel chibi this post cause I haven't had the time to draw xavier <\3)

MAIN M.LIST

❥︎ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋;

Your chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, eyes closed, head cradled by the soft material of your pillow. This was, undoubtedly, the most peaceful moments of your morning, and you lay there in your slumber undisturbed—until a soft, hairy something brushed against your face. It tickled your nose, making you abruptly turn your head to the side. Your hands shot up, rubbing the itching trail left behind by the unwelcome touch. Slowly, you opened your eyes, wanting to uncover the culprit behind your less-than-pleasant awakening.

Of course, that being said, you already knew who it would be. There was only one person who would come into your room unannounced this early in the morning.

A groan escaped your lips as your gaze locked onto the set of pink eyes looking right back at you. "Rafayel! What was that for? And what did you just place on my face right now."

The purple haired man, who was sitting on the drawer right next to your bedside, crossed his hands while lifting his brow at you, as if offended by your words. "Don't look at me like that, you're the one who told me you had an important meeting today, and yet here you are still asleep in your bed at 10am. Do you know how many times I tried calling you before I came here?" He huffed out the last part as if annoyed by the matter, although you knew it was all an act.

"Rafayel, the meeting doesn't even start until 1pm, what are you talking about?" You had a strong feeling he was just using it as an excuse to come see you, but you spared the man the embarrassment of saying that out loud. Plus you thought it was kind of cute of him to do so. Not that there was any need for him to hear that though, his ego is already big enough as it is.

"Details, details." He waved off your words with his hands.

You sighed, simply uses to his antics at this point. Well, it was about time you woke up anyways, but still, "You didn't answer my initial question."

"Oh, you're talking about this?" A small white feather was revealed from between his fingers. "I thought it would be useful for waking you up. I called out your name multiple times and you didn't answer, you have quite the thick sleep."

"Where did you even get that fro– you know what, nevermind. I don't even want to know." Using your feet you kicked the blankets off from your body, sitting up to stretch your body and get yourself ready for the day. "I was just exhausted because of yesterday's mission, I'm not usually that tired."

Rafayel let out a smug grin at your reply, as if he'd been waiting for those exact words to escape your mouth. "I know. Which is why I got us these." He reached out behind him and pulled out two colourful tickets.

Well that you definitely did not see coming. You couldn't believe your eyes, is that really what you were seeing in his hands? "Rafayel, are those for the resort I mentioned to you the other day?" The shock was very evident in your tone and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him. Honestly, you didn't even know how he had heard you talking about that resort the other day. You were just chilling on his couch while he was painting, scrolling through your feed and simply commented out loud on how sweet it looked, it wasn't even a real conversation. You didn't think he would remember, let alone buy you both tickets for it!

It then dawned on you what you had planned upcoming for you these next days and your happiness faltered a bit. "That's really sweet of you Rafayel. I don't even know how you remembered that, but I still have a bunch of meetings and missions I am supposed to take on this week and–"

"Nuh uh uh." Before you could even finish your sentence Rafayel moved to stand right next to you and placed his finger on top of your mouth to seal it shut. "Don't worry your head about all of that, I already got it all sorted out." One of his eyes closed as he shot a wink at you with a grin on his face.

"Sorted out...what do you mean?"

"I asked your captain to let you off for this week, of course. And since you were always so hard working and the wanderer attacks have been on the low lately, she didn't have any problems with that. I made sure to book us the best room too so you can sleep as much as you like when we get there."

Your eyes slightly teared up at his words and at the lengths your lover would go to pull off these sweet surprises for you. "Thank you Rafayel, truly." You wrapped your hands around him in a tight hug, hiding you face between the crook of his neck to conceal your happy tears. "I love you so much."

His hands instantly wrapped around your body returning the hug back even tighter. "Of course, anything for you. And I love you too."

❥︎ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑;

"My love."

Your mind was drifting away in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sound of a faint voice calling out to you right beside your head. A few seconds passed before you then heard it again, "My love." Which made you begrudgingly peel your eyes open with a groan to lock eyes with your lover who was plopped down on the floor of your room, leaning on the edge of your bed to make himself eye level with you.

His eyes seem to light up at your physical response to his calls and a soft smile grows on his face. "Ah good, you're awake finally."

"Xavier," The tiredness still lingering around your voice, you let out a small yawn while one of your hands reached out to cup his cheek in you hands, your thumb going back and forth in gentle gestures along soft skin beneath it. "How long have you been here?" Both you and Xavier had keys to each other's apartment, so it wasn't much of a surprise to see him in your room first thing in the morning. Usually, though, it was the other way around, with you being the one to wake him from his nightly rest.

The guy tilted his head seemingly in thought, taking a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on your desk that had the time displayed in glowing white numbers. "Hmm, I've been trying to wake you up for the past 20 minutes, I think?"

Your hand dropped from his face as you shot up from your bed. "20 minutes?! Oh my god, Xavier why didn't you just shake me awake or something." Was he really here calling out to you for that long? Listen you knew you were exhausted from yesterday's mission and the extensive paperwork that followed but not to this extent!

Xavier didn't really seem to bat an eye at your look of surprise and simply continued on with his words. "Well, I tried to wake you up at first but you looked so peaceful in your sleep I didn't want to disturb you. I tried to go make something for us to have as breakfast in the kitchen but I couldn't figure out how to turn on your stove so." He scratched his cheek sheepishly at the end of his sentance but you inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Oh you were so thankful he did not figure out how to turn on that stove of yours. God knows what kind of explosion you would've woken up to if he did.

Nevertheless, you still chuckled at his silliness. Plus your heart couldn't help but warm up at the sweet gesture, even if he didn’t get to fufill it. "Thank you, Xavier. But next time you can just leave the cooking to me, okay? You know what, now that you mention it I'm in the mood for some pancakes, how about I make us some?"

Xavier rose up from his place on the floor and made himself comfortable next to you on your bed. His hand lifted up to comb through the strands of your hair trying to tame the pieces of bed hair that you acquired from your slumber. "That sounds amazing, love." You felt the warmth of his body get closer as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your eye. A little quirk of his that he likes to do a lot.

Your eye crinkled at the gesture and you dropped your head to rest it on his shoulder after he pulled away, nuzzling into the wooly fabric of his jumper. "Next time you should be more firm with waking me up. I don't mind, you know. Plus I feel bad for having you wait for me to wake up like that."

You could feel the white haired man shake his head in disagreement at your words. "It's okay, you deserve the rest anyways, and your presence alone is enough for me." His voice a soft tone as a loving kiss found its way to the top of your head. You cuddled even deeper into his side, placing a kiss of your own onto the clothing against his shoulder. Truly, what did you do to deserve someone as sweet as him in your life.

Although unbeknownst to you, your lover was having the exact same thought as you in that exact moment.

❥︎ As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <33

Hetty

[kisssukuna33]

Can i request Sukuna hyping up and being very devoted to his wife who is insecure about her body after having a baby?

Husband Sukuna comforting Wife reader who's insecure about her body after having a baby

"He finally went to sleep" Sukuna said letting out a big sigh of relief as he sat down on the couch beside you.

As much as it was a blessing, being first time parents really took a toll on you both. It's only been 2 months so far and the baby has pretty much changed your life upside down. The dark circles visible in both of your faces say that enough.

"He kept crying even after you left to check the restaurant this morning" a displeased sigh left your mouth matching your husband's.

"I told you to sleep woman" Sukuna said gently grabbing your face into his hands as he observed the dark circles under your eyes, a concerned expression taking over his face.

"Tell that to your son, he's the one keeping me up"

"That's why I told you to call me if he started to give you shit. That's it, I'm closing the restaurant for 3 more weeks" Sukuna said, no almost like he scolded you.

"You're going to lose customers if you keep closing it like this" You voiced your concern because you know Sukuna didn't spend time in the restaurant more than 4 days since you have given birth. Everytime he had to leave he looked at you like he's leaving you alone in a Battlefield.

"That's not something you have to concern yourself with, I pay the workers anyway" He got up from the couch as he went to your shared bedroom and came back with a bag in his hands.

"Besides I already earned enough for my family to be comfortable, you know that" He said as he put the bag in your hands.

"what's this?" You asked curiously taking a peek inside the bag. A dress. A gorgeous tube dress with a large flower in the middle and cut out from the sides. You can never compete with Sukuna's taste when it comes to choosing clothes. He knows what looks good on you everytime and you never doubted his taste until maybe now.

You have given birth only 2 months ago, your post pregnancy belly and the stretch marks surrounding it is still pretty much visible, not to mention you are completely a different size from before. You anxiously check the inside of your dress to see the size Sukuna bought you, in deep down you wanted to check if Sukuna also took notice in your change of weight. But for some reason the size tag has been ripped off from the dress already. That sly bastard.

"Wear it, We are going out for dinner. I already called Choso so he will babysit tonight" Sukuna said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hair. He wanted to make you happy, he really did. He didn't want you to remember the early part of your parenting journey as only stress. He thought maybe finally going out for dinner can be a good change for the both of you. But it didn't take him that long to notice the sour expression in your face.

"uh Kuna how about we-"

"No we are going, you have been inside the house for 2 months. You need this" he said in a stern voice leaving no room for arguments.

You sigh thinking of another way to not wear this dress.

"This looks expensive" That earned an eyebrow raise from Sukuna.

"of course it isn't. When the fuck have I ever bought you cheap shit?" Sukuna said like he's personally offended by your comment.

"That's not what i- Anyway maybe this is too much for a dinner" please work! Please work! You mentally chanted as you continued with the lie "I'm gonna save this for a special occasion".

Sukuna wore a dumb look on his face. Clearly trying to figure out what nonsense are you spouting because he can just buy you a new one? Like he always do?

You avoided meeting meeting Sukuna's gaze because that man can read you like a book.

"Woman what are you- And Why do you keep looking that way? Look at me" Sukuna said as he kneeled down in front you.

He cupped your face with one hand as he brought it closer to his face.

"spit it out"

You left out a sigh as you began telling him how you felt about your post pregnancy body and it didn't take long for Sukuna's face to drop. He felt like it was his fault that you felt this way. It's been few weeks since you two shared intimacy and Sukuna wasn't able to remind you how much devoted he is to your body even after you gave birth ( your doctor said 4 weeks of no sex but Sukuna being the protective husband he is, decided to wait atleast two months).

The moment you finished your explanation Sukuna picked you up into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently put you down the bed as he started to take off your shirt. You were a bit nervous at first but decided to let him do it anyway. The moment you see the scars visible in your belly you looked away hiding from Sukuna's gaze.

"Look at me, Don't look away"

Sukuna brought his face closer to your scars. First he ran his fingers through them. Like a blind man reading a book and touching it with care. Then his lips started to touch your skin. He kissed you softly slowly making his way around your scars. He kept bringing his eyes to yours reminding them to keep watching. Sukuna didn't miss a single scar, no. When he finally separated his lips from your body, you felt like he casted a spell on you. A purifying spell making all the negative energy around your body go away.

"You went through hell with the brat, those scars are reminders that how strong of a fight you put up. Scars or without scars you are still the same gorgeous woman I fell in love with 2 years ago" listening to Sukuna's words you can't help but let the tears fall down. How much lucky you must be to have this man in your life. If you could marry him again you would do it in a heartbeat.

"And don't you dare call my wife ugly I will fucking kill you"

That earned a giggle from your part as you smacked his chest playfully.

"Your wife must be a very lucky woman then" you murmured wrapping your arms around Sukuna's neck as you pull him into your embrace.

"Nah, I'm the lucky one"

[puffleyia]

changing room shenanigans

Cedric Diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader (1.8k words) take this blurb. i haven’t written in awhile, too. Especially smut. but God forbid I starve, because I'm surviving off crumbs at this point. So-- i'm making my own food! :3 the fic is posted here, but you can also show some support on ao3. <33 https://archiveofourown.org/works/55057882

Warnings: smut, bjs

Summary: Eagerly, you watch Cedric during his quidditch practice, and even more so to finish. Getting a little impatient, you decide to follow him to the quidditch locker rooms. 

or

Soft dom Cedric tries out being a hard(ish) dom.

–

You yawned as you stretched your stiff arms to get some movement in after a long night’s sleep, and your eyes still quite droopy. Eventually, you got yourself up and groggily got dressed in your uniform. As much as you’d like to stay in on such a fine Saturday morning, you didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn for nothing. Of course, being the supportive girlfriend you are, you promised Cedric you’d watch him during practice this weekend. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. Heading out of your dormitory, you decide to hang around in the common room. Cozying yourself up on one of the couches, you wait for Cedric. You see some of his teammates leaving for practice already, greeting you as they pass by. After a few minutes, you finally spot him already dressed up in his quidditch attire, broomstick in one hand and offering his other to yours. You gladly take it. “G’morning, love,” he says in a low tone, almost whispering. He yawns as he talks to you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Morning,” you mumble in response. 

“Sorry you had to get up so early.” He said sincerely.

“S’fine, really,” you assure him.

You two started to make your way to the quidditch pitch. The journey was mostly silent, though being interrupted with an occasional yawn. It wasn’t an awkward kind of quiet, though– it was a comfortable kind, something you could bask in.

Words didn’t need to be said right now to express any emotion. Sometimes it was silence that spoke the loudest.

Upon arriving, you rush up to get on one of the tall, empty stands. The team quickly gets to work, wasting no time in practicing.

Time passed by slowly, but it wasn’t necessarily boring. Though you wouldn’t admit the fact that you liked seeing your boyfriend progressively get all sweaty and dirtied up from it a bit too much.

As much as you liked watching practice, more specifically Cedric, you would like it even more to end. 

After what felt like a while, or long enough, it finally came to an awaited end. It must’ve roughly eleven o’clock by then.

You hurriedly get downstairs and meet him on the quidditch pitch, watching him as he slowly descends then dismounting his broom and as his teammates do the same. Whilst the others head straight for the locker rooms, he runs up to you and gives a warm smile.

“Hey.. I’m a mess, aren’t I?” He chuckles, seemingly amused at himself. He keeps a distance yet still remaining close enough, not wanting you to get dirty. “I don’t mind, really,” you say as you peck his cheek. “You look good. You did great back there, by the way. Surely we’re going to win the cup this year.”

He feels a blush forming on his cheeks at your comments. “Thanks.” A brief pause before he speaks again, “I’ll be on my way to the locker rooms to take a shower. Just wait for me, okay, love? I’ll be quick.” 

He’s gone off before you even get to speak.

A few minutes go by, and you start to get impatient. You know you weren’t supposed to, but you did it anyway. You snuck in the locker rooms. By that time, it seems that the rest of Cedric’s team had been gone by then. 

You look for the changing rooms, and by some miracle you walk in on just the right time. The only occupied stall’s door flung open, only to reveal Cedric walking out with his trousers on and is in the middle of putting on his blouse— but you were able to get a peek of what was underneath. He looked fresh from the shower, too, with his hair all wet.

If this is what you get to see after every game, you might just sign up for the quidditch team at this point.

You admired the few moments you had when he was shirtless, how the droplets of water ran down his toned body. It was as if he were carved from marble. He takes notice of you, his face flushing at the unexpected visit. He was putting on his golden striped black tie at this point. 

“Hi,” was the first thing he said. “Hi,” you reply back, the two of you grin at each other during the awkward exchange.

“Why’re you here?” He stammered, still a bit surprised. It wasn’t that you haven’t seen him getting dressed before, no, you have plenty of times. It was just completely unpredictable of you to barge in like this.

Feeling a bit mischievous, you don’t answer his question and push him back into the changing room, joining in as well. It was obvious that it was definitely fit for only one person.

The air in the room shifted quickly to something hot and heavy, filled with enough tension so thick you could probably use a knife to cut it. Cedric didn’t waste a minute, crashing his lips against yours. He slithers his hands onto your waist, pulling you closer so that you feel yourself press up against one another. 

You didn’t think it’d escalate anything beyond a make-out session. Oh, you were so wrong.

Your breaths became shallow, too caught up in the moment to think of anything else. Taking you aback, he suddenly, but gently pushes you down so that you sink onto your knees. Before doing anything else though, Cedric makes sure that you’re okay with this.

Too worked up already, his hand tightly grasps your hair as he shoves your face onto his pants, which does a very poor job of hiding his hard on. “Ced–” you try to speak, but before you could say anything he’s already unzipped his pants and is currently shushing you up with his cock.

“Shhh, just take it.” 

Compliantly, you let him take the initiative of the situation. He wasn’t touching you– or more specifically touching you in a sense to please you. Right now, he was trying to get himself off. Using you. Which you found incredibly hot.

It definitely is way out of what Cedric is used to, since making you feel good is always his top priority. It wasn’t until a couple of days ago you had a talk about this, you encouraged that the both of you try something new. 

While he was hesitant at first (of course he wanted to put you first), you assured him you’d feel good all the same. In the end, you both agreed on Cedric trying next time to be more.. selfish? Selfish. And rough.

You just didn’t think the “next time” you talked about would happen now, of all situations. 

You feel your stomach churn. (You felt like you were going to explode, honestly.) He made you feel all sorts of things, even if you weren’t really his main priority right now.

He slowly pushed himself into your mouth, still careful not to cause any discomfort. To tease him, you swirl your tongue around his dick as you hollow out your cheeks. He grunts at the sudden action. He bucks his hips against your mouth in response, causing you to gag as you take more of him in. 

You grab onto his thighs as if you were holding on for dear life as he begins bobbing your head. You look back up at him, seeing him with a really pleased expression– eyes closed, panting heavily, his jaw hanging, leaving his mouth open in an o-shape as he lets out soft groans.

You could hear him curse under his breath while also muttering words of praise. He only roughens his pace more, beginning to thrust into your mouth as you try to keep up by breathing through your nose, getting all teary eyed too.

“Merlin, you’re doing so well f’me,” he says breathlessly. All you can do is hum in response.

Each time he practically drives himself into your throat, you can feel the wind getting knocked out of you. (In a good way, of course.)  As much as Cedric loved to be slow, sappy, and romantic, he definitely had a filthy side to him and a thing for shanking around in places you aren’t supposed to. 

Yeah. You’d never forget the quickie beneath the staircase in the Yule Ball, or when he went down on and fucked you in the prefect’s bathroom.

Since you’re unable to control your pace nor take any breaks, saliva wells up in your mouth– escaping your lips as you drool onto the floor, and all over his cock. It only serves to fuel Cedric even more, and he only proves your point when you spot him with a slight smirk on his face.

The rush it gives you is overwhelming, you felt as if you’d come like this– untouched. You can’t ignore the wetness pooling in your underwear.

The firm grip on your hair gets tighter, his thrusts more erratic, and you were sobbing, gagging and drooling on his cock. You could tell he was close.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he pants, “just keep letting me use you,” his voice rough and low, that familiar tone he uses unconsciously in bed that you like. He would always be so into every moment that he does little things like that which he doesn’t notice– but you did. You loved taking note of them. 

“Oh, m’gonna–” He pushes your head, forcing you to completely take every inch of his dick. He cums as you’re being held securely in place, nose pressed up against his groin and all. 

Your head jerks reflexively, also gagging as hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat. You swallow desperately. Your poor attempts leave his seed overflowing from your mouth, dripping down your chin.

Cedric pulls you away, his hand letting go of your head as he tucks his cock back into his pants. He was seemingly satisfied with himself.

You swallow the rest of his cum before you speak. “You should do this more often,” you manage to say, in a hoarse tone. He grinned at that fact, quite delighted at his work. “Yeah, I think I got a bit carried away,” he says, not a hint of sorry at all in his tone. 

“You did,” In an effort to look presentable, you wipe your chin, ridding any excess cum on your face. Also combing your hair, which had gone all frizzy, to straighten it out. Or trying to, at least.

“T’was good, though.” You say while flattening out your skirt, giving him a peck on the cheek afterwards.

“Glad you liked it then.”

Both of you hurried on to the great hall for lunch. His teammates exchanged suspicious looks. One asked why he took an unusually long time in the locker rooms. 

[504py]

Candlelight and Calluses - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

A particularly unruly thunderstorm begs you to ask your knight to stay by your bedside, just for a little bit.

i see quite a bit of bodyguard leon fics so i always thought he'd fit into a knight au rather well. art by me!!

Historical inaccuracies, I'm terrible at old-timey speak LOL, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, relationship is dubious so this could be seen as platonic, romantic, or however you'd like.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It seemed like life would continue like normal after your former knight was discharged for stealing from your mother, and Leon came to replace him. He definitely feels more trained, more skilled, more refined, someone very reliable, so you can see how he was hired so quickly.

Somehow, you just can't get used to his presence, though.

You see him at very scheduled times of day. He sleeps in a room close to yours, mother said its safer to have him closer at night in case someone breaks in. If you're awake early enough, you can catch him leaving his room. You see him training in the courtyard through the window you pass by when you head to the kitchen. He always escorts you to your bedroom and says goodnight when you decide to call it a day, and stays posted near your door for a few minutes, before retreating to his own for the night.

Tonight, you ask him to stay just a little longer. Rainy days never really bothered you, but the thunder today was particularly bad. It was painfully loud and booming, each strike and roar making you flinch in the anticipation that the ceiling might cave in on you any moment and swallow you whole. You knew he was there to protect you, that's the main reason he was here, but your cheeks burned at the loss of your pride when you give him your request.

His expression, illuminated by the lantern in his hand and highlighting the sharp planes of his visage, is slightly different than usual at your query. His dark eyebrows are slightly raised, the frown on his lips not as deep as it usually is. His eyes are softer.

"Of course, my lady."

You head inside your bedroom, your sight settling on your nightwear set on your bed by one of your maids. You turn to Leon, asking that he leave while you change, but his back is already turned to you. You figure he got the hint, and you undress.

He's listening intently to the sounds of cloth shuffling, till he hears your weight dip your mattress, "Have you finished dressing, my lady?"

"Yes, I'm all done." You reply. Your voice is weaker than usual, perhaps scared that the thunderstorm will hear, and a crackling boom will respond, instead of Leon.

He turns back to you, seeming to pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. You've never seen him do that, perhaps this situation is new to him. That thought makes your face warm in shame.

"I... Shall I stay in the room, or shall I stay at my post, milady?" His voice is quieter than it usually is, too. Admittedly, it's a little hard to hear each other with how loud the rain is.

"If... If it would be alright, Sir Leon, could you stay by the side of my bed? Just until the storm subsides. I'd hate to keep you here for too long."

"It is no trouble to me, my lady, I promise."

He makes his way over to you, confidence in each step despite being so unfamiliar with such a strange, intimate request.

"...You can grab that chair by my vanity, Sir Leon, you don't have to stand."

He obliges, grabbing said chair and setting it by your bed.

He's dressed in a simple cream-colored linen blouse and trousers. You can see his neck. You breathe out a laugh realizing that this is probably the first time you've ever seen it. He wonders what you find amusing. You rarely ever see him without any armor on, maybe just a glimpse when he leaves his room in the morning, and even when he's not in full steel plating, he's usually donning chainmail.

"...Is it heavy?" You mumble, drowsily.

"What is, my lady?"

"The armor you wear. Is it heavy, Sir Leon?"

"Well... Not particularly, milady, but perhaps I've just gotten used to it. It does get hot, though."

"Mm..." You hum, "Always wanted to try it on, always wondered what it was like... I know mother and father won't let me, though." You chuckle.

Leon smiles a little, maybe the first time you've seen him do so. "Maybe I'll let you try on my helmet someday, milady."

"Really?" The drowsy smile you send him makes him feel warmer, "That'd be nice... I always thought the armor you knights wore looked so fashionable." Your eyes close.

He laughs slightly, and the sound is clearer now. Without realizing, the storm had passed, and you feel at ease. Leon waits a little longer, counting your breaths and seeing if your eyes will open again. He thinks the way your eyelashes rest against your cheeks look beautiful.

"Sir Leon?" You mumble, barely legible.

"Yes, milady?"

"Have a good night..." You add, before dozing off.

"You as well, my lady. Good night."

He waits a few minutes more, like he usually does when he escorts you to your door. He's never watched you sleep before, despite this being part of his nightly routine. He wishes a little more that thunderstorms would happen more habitually so he could do this more often.

Leon gets up, and quietly places your chair back to your vanity. He returns to take his lantern from your bedside table, and he pauses, watching you for a few beats more, before retreating to his bedroom for the night.

"...Calling me just Leon would be fine." He ends, with a whisper of your name.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[cozmowrites]

Sleep Deprived

3:25 am.

Streetlights outside your window casted a faint glow across your desk. A mountain of textbooks loomed over your laptop, the blinking cursor on a blank document that was taunting you. The quiet hum of the night was broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock.

You knew you should sleep. Your body screamed for rest, but your mind stubbornly refused to acknowledge the passage of time. It was always like this—late nights turning into early mornings, the hours bleeding together as if the concept of sleep didn't apply to you.

You hadn't slept properly in weeks, not since the school workload became overwhelming. Not that you'd admitted it to anyone—not until tonight, at least.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, lighting up with a notification. You picked it up, squinting at the brightness.

Bakugou: Dumbass? Why are you still awake??

You blinked, momentarily disoriented due to the bright screen. How had he known? You hadn't texted him, hadn't posted anything online. You figured he must've noticed your exhausted demeanor at school earlier in the day—or maybe it was the dark circles under your eyes.

You: I'm fine. Just finishing some homework.

You replied, fingers flying across the keyboard. The response came almost immediately.

Bakugou: Don't lie to me. You've looked like a zombie for weeks. How long have you been pulling this crap?

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. You knew he wouldn't let this slide, but you also didn't feel like arguing. So, you answered casually, not thinking much of it.

You: I dunno, maybe a few weeks? No big deal.

The three dots signaling his typing disappeared and reappeared several times before his next message arrived. 

Bakugou: A FEW WEEKS? Are you an idiot?! Open your damn door. I'm coming over.

You groaned, slumping back in your chair. Of course, he was coming over. There was no stopping him once he made up his mind. You shuffled to the door of your dorm, opening it to let in the blonde. The moment you did, a familiar mop of spiky blonde hair appeared. Bakugou pushing himself in, and sitting on your bed.

"Seriously, Katsuki?" You muttered, stepping back to give him space. "It's the middle of the night."

He ignored your complaint, his crimson eyes narrowing as he took in your appearance. "Holy crap, you look worse than I thought. Have you even looked in a mirror?"

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned, crossing your arms. "Nice to see you too."

"Don't start with me, dumbass," he growled, closing the window behind him. "What the hell are you doing to yourself?"

"It's just school," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "I'll catch up on sleep later."

"'Later'?" He echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Do you even hear yourself? You can't just skip sleep for weeks and act like it's no big deal!"

You shrugged, brushing past him to sit on your bed. "I'm used to it."

"Well, I'm not," he snapped, following you. "You're gonna burn out, get sick, and then what? You think I'm just gonna sit back and watch you ruin yourself?"

You rolled your eyes, though guilt was starting to creep in. "I said I'm fine, Katsuki. You don't need to babysit me."

"Clearly, I do," he shot back, plopping down beside you. His sharp glare softened slightly as he studied your face. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped."

You hesitated, fumbling for an answer. "I didn't want to bother you..."

"Bother me?" he repeated incredulously. "You're my girlfriend, dumbass. You think I'd just ignore you?"

The room fell silent, his words hanging heavy in the air. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, unable to meet his gaze. It wasn't that you didn't trust him—you did, more than anyone. But asking for help had always felt... impossible. Like admitting weakness. You and Bakugou were one in the same about that.

"I didn't think it was a big deal," you murmured finally.

"Well, it is," he said firmly. "And from now on, you're gonna take care of yourself. Got it?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you plan to enforce that?"

A sly smirk tugged at his lips. "Easy. I'm staying here tonight."

Your eyes widened. "What?! Katsuki, you can't just—"

"Shut it," he interrupted, already kicking off his shoes. "I'm not leaving until I see you actually sleep. You're not pulling another all-nighter on my watch."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the determined look in his eyes stopped you. There was no point. Once Bakugou set his mind to something, there was no changing it.

With a resigned sigh, you crawled under the covers, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious as he made himself comfortable on the floor beside your bed. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, you know," you muttered. "You're my boyfriend, you can sleep in the bed too."

"I'm fine," he replied, his voice softer now. "Just shut up and go to sleep."

Despite his gruff tone, there was a warmth in his words that made your chest ache. You hadn't realized how much you'd needed this. "Move up here or I won't go to sleep."

+++

The sunlight streaming through your window was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. The second was the faint smell of something cooking... or burning?

You bolted upright, your heart racing. "Katsuki?!"

"Calm down," he called from the kitchen. "I didn't burn the place down."

You stumbled out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you followed the sound of his voice. Sure enough, Bakugou was standing by the stove, glaring at a pan of what you assumed was supposed to be breakfast.

"What are you doing?" You asked, stifling a laugh.

"Making sure you eat," he grumbled, flipping something that vaguely resembled an omelet, but you couldn't tell because you were so hungry and sleepy. "You're not skipping meals either. Got it?"

You couldn't help but smile, your chest swelling with a mix of affection and gratitude. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're an idiot," he shot back, though there was no bite to his words. "But I'm stuck with you, so I guess I'll deal."

"Gee, thanks," you teased, leaning against the counter. "I feel so loved."

He rolled his eyes, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks betrayed him. "Just shut up and eat."

As you sat down to an edible breakfast, you realized that, for the first time in weeks, you actually felt rested. And it was all thanks to Bakugou's stubborn insistence.

"I love you, by the way.. Thanks."

"Tch. Love you too, dumbass. If I wasn't here, you'd be dead." Bakugou grumbled.

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

requests ツ

[joelmama]

The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot

no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)

pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))

(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)

Ao3 Link

A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3

Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world. 

Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name. 

A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents—  were destined for a life of simplicity. 

It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips. 

Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away. 

It never came.

Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter. 

He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age. 

By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones. 

Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.

And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.

Her father had found her a suitor.

The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry. 

The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all. 

Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone. 

Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different. 

And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.

A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.

She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.

He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots. 

Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman. 

Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her. 

But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together. 

They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man. 

Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core. 

But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.

Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded. 

A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.

Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor. 

The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint. 

Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do. 

A very strange wedding indeed. 

It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented. 

As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest. 

Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled. 

He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea. 

Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her. 

Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…

That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.

She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”

The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them. 

When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife. 

“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.

She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.

She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.

“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.

Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home. 

Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.

She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that. 

“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood. 

“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time. 

“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night. 

She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years. 

The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to. 

He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry. 

A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.

~

Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.

Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers. 

Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband. 

However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.

She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life. 

Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.

It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?

The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.

Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.

She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work. 

“Welcome home.”

Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.

“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”

Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in. 

He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.

“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”

“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”

She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.

As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.

“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of. 

“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.

Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes. 

“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.

Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.

“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.

“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating. 

That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.

He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.

No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.

Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do. 

So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well. 

Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.

“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.

Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon. 

She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name. 

And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks. 

“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.

“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”

So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it. 

Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.

~

The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary. 

At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.

And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone. 

Joel.

The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.  

She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone. 

However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it. 

There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.

Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.

She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived. 

Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.

Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.

It was a sight to behold.

Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?

He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her. 

Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.

She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.

Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer. 

But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage. 

So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?

In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.

Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest. 

He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?

Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?

When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.

So he was not expecting this. Not at all. 

“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.

“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.

Busted. 

Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.

“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.

Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.

They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.

~

The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help. 

He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day. 

Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance. 

As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner. 

What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her. 

Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together. 

She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much. 

Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?

And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?

She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night. 

There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel. 

Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst. 

She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves. 

Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet. 

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.

Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob. 

When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease. 

It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface. 

There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.

There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum. 

But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)

It was a picture.

Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white. 

Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.

“What are you doing?”

It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet. 

The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor. 

“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.

“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.

“Don’t.” He snapped. 

“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.

And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.

Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness. 

And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name. 

She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.

Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.

“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.

“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there. 

“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?

“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.

“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.

“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest. 

The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.

“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.

“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.

And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said. 

So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.

“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.

“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.

“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”

Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.

“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.

“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.

“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.

She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question. 

A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.

“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.

“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—” 

A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.

“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”

And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.

“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.

It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.

“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”

His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon. 

“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower. 

She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.

~

A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was a bit frustrating to say the least. 

And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.

So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.

But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.

It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.

And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing. 

She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…

Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.

Would she ever get what she was hoping for?

Maybe she could, if she was brave enough. 

The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition. 

He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.

Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?

They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night. 

Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.

Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom. 

“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do. 

“What’s wrong?” He inquired. 

As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of. 

Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.

Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.

He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going. 

In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants. 

Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.

She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.

A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him. 

His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.

The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin. 

Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.

Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.

“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”

She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself. 

Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.

~

Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.

It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.

Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone. 

And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. 

Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.  

She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat). 

How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction? 

Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.

The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing? 

The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.

Or at least until he returns home.

But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant. 

And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.

It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles. 

It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.

But it didn’t help.

In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.

She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.

But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.

The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it. 

Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder. 

Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.

Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.

Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.

The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving. 

He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.

“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.

“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”

“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”

“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.

Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.

A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust. 

“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”

“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”

Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”

His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.

He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath. 

“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”

“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time. 

“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”

“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.

“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.

 “I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.

“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult. 

“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”

This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.

Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own. 

She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible. 

And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline. 

Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.

Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved. 

Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.

Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this. 

He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.

“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple. 

It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.

A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.

Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.

“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin.  “D-don’t do that, darlin’.” 

Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”

He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”

“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”

She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements. 

“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.

“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”

His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.

“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.

A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”

“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.

Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.

Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.

“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress. 

“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”

He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition. 

“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted. 

So he did.

Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him. 

He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin. 

Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.

“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.

It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.

“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake

“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.

Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her. 

At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form. 

Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place. 

Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting. 

She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.

And as it turned out, eventually he would.

Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.

The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down. 

Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs. 

She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.

And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.

“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.

“I—  um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.

“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.

“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away. 

“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”

Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.

“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.

“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss. 

Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.

It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon. 

She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.

Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely. 

Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm. 

Three days came and went.

Joel had yet to return home. 

Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.

Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.

She was eating her words now. 

It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.

The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred. 

She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it  workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.

“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.

“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.

“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”

Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste. 

She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.

It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…

She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon. 

The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did. 

When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.

It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.

But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable. 

Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.

It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on. 

Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.

She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.

His name fell desperately from her lips. 

Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises. 

His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him. 

He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.

“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace. 

She didn’t seem to mind. 

They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.

They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter. 

And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls. 

Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands. 

Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.

His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.

“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips. 

At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek. 

“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”

“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”

He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”

The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own. 

“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.

She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for. 

Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.

It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment. 

“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.

In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation. 

And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.

~

Joel was up before the sun.

As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.

Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.

He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.

Y/N.

She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.

The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.

Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her. 

When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos. 

Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs. 

Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life. 

This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..

And he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 

Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.  

For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world. 

He had to get out of this bed. 

Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth. 

Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.

~

To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.

That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay. 

She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work. 

Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time. 

Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.

And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town. 

But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape. 

Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.

Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?

She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks. 

She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it. 

It was love.

And it hit her like a ton of bricks. 

Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying. 

Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.

Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!

The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.

~

Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.

He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.

A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.

But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.

He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.

The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.

It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?

Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.

“Joel?”

His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.

“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.

“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.

“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”

“Why?” 

She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips. 

“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.

Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair. 

“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.

“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”

His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man.  As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer. 

Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.

“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.

Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.

“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.

“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.

“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.

“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”

As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.

“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.

“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”

“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”

“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss. 

It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.

“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.

“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”

His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.

“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.

“Me too.”

And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for. 

Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.

“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch. 

“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.

His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin. 

Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.

Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed. 

Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing. 

She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.

“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.” 

Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.

He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”

A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.

He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.  

“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”

Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.

“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.” 

“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next. 

And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same. 

He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.

The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.

He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.

Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness. 

She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt. 

All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.

“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal. 

“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds. 

“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.

“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.

“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties. 

“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.

“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core. 

“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself. 

They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.

“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare. 

“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her. 

He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.

“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”

An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.

“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”

“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.

“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”

“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.

“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.

“Yes.” She said, her voice small.

Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.

“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.

“Will it hurt?” 

“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her. 

“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady. 

“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.

“As you wish.”  He replied, in the same hushed tone.

Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time. 

His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment. 

Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.

Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it. 

And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her. 

Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle. 

“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.

“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.

Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.

Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.

His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.

That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end. 

Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky. 

“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back. 

“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man. 

“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair. 

Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 

“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.

“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.

“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said. 

“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.

“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”

“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.” 

A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.

Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.

And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.

Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.

A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him. 

“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.

“Really?” She squeaked.

“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.

He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.

She gasped at the sight of it.

His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal. 

And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.

Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches. 

She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation. 

Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.

“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.

“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered,  “‘m only returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”

“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip. 

“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.

She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her. 

Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.

Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.

“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”

And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here. 

“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment. 

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there. 

“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”

“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.

Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips. 

“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.

Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation. 

“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.

Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.

She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.

“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.

Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel. 

“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.

“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.

“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”

“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach. 

Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock. 

She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.

“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”

“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing. 

“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”

Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.

“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”

“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”

And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.

Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.

The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to. 

The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching. 

His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo. 

Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.

“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.

Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.

Except for one thing.

“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.

Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.

He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.

Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife. 

His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest—  not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.

“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.

They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.

“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.

“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.

“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.

“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him

“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.

“We still have to make dinner.”

And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name. 

~~~

A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33

[marzipanandminutiae]

I've gotten some interesting responses to my post wondering if Um Actually 3 AM Is The REAL Time For Supernatural Occurrences was a traditional thing before I first noticed it in the creepypasta boom of the late 00s-2010s, as many of those creepypastas claimed. some of them along "guys. please. reading comprehension" lines, I admit

"Lots of cultures have a Witching Hour!" yes, true, but that's not 3 AM specifically. for a long time it was usually midnight, or an unspecified late night/wee hours of the morning period

"This author says 3 AM feels like depression or vice versa!" that is not about Spooky Things Happening; try again

"early Christian beliefs say-" "well, in traditional Japanese folklore-" sources??? (also from what I've seen while looking into this, the Hour of the Ox in historical Japanese timekeeping was between 1 AM and 3 AM- 3 AM specifically was the end of it, not the beginning. but it was a traditional time for curses)

A mention of 3 AM as a particularly bad time of night re: health, sleep, nightmares, etc. in Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962), which DOES seem reliable and close enough to what I'm talking about

Apparently the 1974 Amityville murders happened at 3 AM, and of course that house had a highly public (probably faked) haunting. So that could have contributed

I haven't yet found anything earlier than that Bradbury reference that SPECIFICALLY mentions 3 AM as a time when scary and/or supernatural things happen, WITH ACTUAL SOURCES

Interestingly, the Bradbury quote doesn't seem to refer back to an existing cultural belief in the idea of Evil 3 AM(TM). rather it's framed as the narrator's personal feelings around that particular time of night:

"Oh God, midnight’s not bad, you wake and go back to sleep, one or two’s not bad, you toss but sleep again. Five or six in the morning, there’s hope, for dawn’s just under the horizon. But three, now, Christ, three A.M.! Doctors say the body’s at low tide then. The soul is out. The blood moves slow. You’re the nearest to dead you’ll ever be save dying. Sleep is a patch of death, but three in the morn, full wide-eyed staring, is living death! You dream with your eyes open. God, if you had strength to rouse up, you’d slaughter your half-dreams ... And wasn’t it true, had he read somewhere, more people in hospitals die at 3 A.M. than at any other time." [I can't find any credible studies of this, for the record]

so it seems like the seeds of the idea were floating around in the cultural consciousness for a long time, between unspecified Witching Hours and the Hour of the Ox curses and this probably erroneous but popular belief that most people who die in hospitals do so at 3 AM. but as for the very strictly-defined notion that Supernatural Things Are Most Likely To Happen At 3 AM...the earliest anecdotal reference I saw to someone having heard that was from the 1980s, and it doesn't seem to have really entered the zeitgeist with force until the late 2000s, earliest

unless someone shows me a source on something earlier, that's what I'm going with

which leaves my takeaway, as a paranormal believer, being: there's nothing supernaturally special about 3 AM, unless it has individual significance to a specific entity or haunting (ie residual apparition of an event that took place at that time). it's something people came up with for interesting fiction, as a fresh take on the longstanding western idea that the Witching Hour is midnight, and not even that long ago

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

hii i was wondering if you could do logan with reader that owns a cat and the cat acts JUST LIKE HIM and he cant stand it until reader points it out. thank you!!!!

I loved this request! I have my own little cat, so I wanted this to be as well written as possible. I'm sorry it took so long to be posted. I hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me with motivation to keep posting on here <3

This is my kitten rocket 🤭

Logan was never afraid to meet anyone in your life. He had met your friends and family; he met your colleagues and even your old roommate, but for some reason, everyone is telling him he should be afraid to meet your cat.

Logan can remember every warning he got from the people in your life when they found out he hadn't met your cat yet. "Oh, that's her baby" "Oh he has brought a lot of joy into her life since she found him, he really is her number one" "That cat hates anyone that comes over-I swear it's crazy" "Her cat is just very territorial, very protective" "Make sure you wear shoes, he goes for the toes."

He scoffed at these warnings, it's still just a cat. He wanted your cat to like him, of course he did but he also wasn't afraid to meet the damn thing. He knew you loved you cat, that was your baby, and you took care of him more than you took care of yourself something Logan hated, but he didn't think it mattered what a cat thought of him.

You usually would stay at his place after a night out, but for the past few dates, you two went back to your place instead. It wasn't a big deal, but you were worried for how your cat would react to a strange man coming into his territory. "He just doesn't like people Lo', I don't want him to lash out at you." He could hear in your voice how worried you truly were, and he tried his best to reassure you that the cat and him would get along just fine.

He lied to you. Logan can't stand that fucking cat and that cat has it out for him too. The first night the cat didn't even come out of hiding, it completely broke your heart and Logan ended up leaving a bit earlier than planned because you were worried for your cat's wellbeing, as he was leaving he heard you cooing at the cat calling him your baby and your handsome man and though he'd never admit it aloud a twinge of jealous did echo through Logan's chest. The next night the cat did come out of hiding, just so he could attack Logan's legs. When Logan didn't kick him across the room like he wanted to you came and put the cat in your bedroom. "I am so sorry!! Are you okay??" You exclaimed while you closed the door to your room before trying to check on his scratches even though they healed before you could. He grumbled... sort of whined a bit too, and honestly, he was enjoying the attention, so maybe he milked the injury? Sue him.

What really pushed him over the edge was your cat literally pushing him over the edge. It was around 1 in the morning, and you had just fallen asleep. Logan was holding you in his arms and trying his best to fall asleep himself when the door to your bedroom creaked open. Logan, now fully awake, sits up, trying not to disturb you and is greeted with a sharp meow and sharp little claws to the stomach. "Mother fucker" Logan mumbled under his breath as he pushed the cat off of him, "why are you even in here?" he asked quietly so he wouldn't wake you but sharply enough to try and scare the cat away. The cat meowed louder than before as if he was arguing back and went to lay on your chest, purring as he curled himself into a ball. Logan was pissed but he tried to stay cool and just ignore the cat, then around 4 in the morning, Logan was awoken to his body meeting your bedroom floor. When he stood up, he looked at the bed and saw your fucking cat in his spot. "That's it." Logan had enough and grabbed a blanket before going to the couch.

You woke him up hours later, very confused as to why he was on the couch and was replaced by a cat in the middle of the night. "Baby?" You asked softly, handing him his cup of coffee, "don't. Just don't." He grumbles and sips his coffee, sending your cat a glare as he walks around smugged.

Logan refuses to lose against a damn cat!

It's just a stupid cat, not even 4 months old yet. So why was he letting its behavior get to him so much? Because it was your cat, and even if Logan wasn't ready to admit it yet he really did love you and for some reason you loved that asshole cat more than the world so for fuck sake that cat will like him even if it is the last thing he does in his very long life.

Honestly, it was truly ironic if Logan took the time to think about it. Your cat was a grump. He didn't want people around unless he allowed them to be around, and even then, he wanted his distance. But not when it came to you. When you were around, that cat was glued to you and had the loudest purr Logan had ever heard, and your cat really did get protective of you. It was something Logan had never seen before. Usually, cats don't care, but if you came home upset, the cat wouldn't settle down until you did, too. If he took the time to really think about it, maybe he could see the resemblance the cat shared with another grump you have allowed into your life that you loved more than the world.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

[lokideservesahug]

An Unexpected Crossover

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Pairing:Carlos Alcaraz x F1 pilot!Reader

Notes: I've had this in my mind since Wimbledon but only ever ½ created this. Shout out to @yungbludz for fully bringing me into my Alcaraz era and for indirectly encouraging me to post this (il your work) + (an anon comes out of hiding ig). I have ideas for other parts but Idk if I should continue so feedback is very welcome. This characterisation is probably awful but I've never written for Carlos before. I'm very open to advice though.

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N, the only rookie in Formula 1's 2024 season. But many people get excited at her attending Wimbledon especially after some old interviews resurface...

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☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You weren't ashamed of your boyfriend, of course not. But mornings like these made the constant speculation, talks and borderline harassment about your relationship worth it.

Moments where you woke up earlier and could watch the first breaking of the morning sun fall out between the gaps in your curtains and onto Carlos' face. You watch as the yellow light frames your boyfriend's face, making him look even more pretty than usual.

In this moment, he looked like the perfect image of sleep. And goodness did he deserve it, especially after his performance, that could only be described as truly outstanding yesterday.

You'd heard what people said about yesterday. Djokovic gave one of his greatest performances ever and Carlos still managed to beat him. Even the thought strikes a chord of pride within you and brings a grin to your face.

A sudden groan however wakes you from your thoughts. "Querida?" You hum in response, looking back down to your boyfriend. He lifts his head up slowly and gives you a familiar look (one that you've learnt that at times like these, means he's questioning why you aren't still glued to his side). You hold in the urge to laugh slightly his pouty face and half asleep fueled strop but that only makes his pout get somehow bigger. "Big baby." You lie down next to Carlos, resting your head on his shoulder and weaving your hand under his shirt. Carlos let's out a slight shiver at the lack of warmth in your hands but also simultaneously hums in content. "Eso está mejor" (That's better)

You roll your eyes. "Then shush you big baby." Already anticipating his next move, you whip out your other arm to cage Carlos' hand to the bed. "Don't even think about pretending to be offended. Just go back to sleep." And that order he happily complies with; well after wriggling his arm from out of your grip only to lay it on your back and rub mindless shapes as he mutters "mujer mandona" (Bossy woman). And before you have the time to respond, (probably about the fact that Carlos gets riled up at stuff like that) you feel the familiar shallow breathing of your boyfriend fan across your hair.

You had to do things at some point today. But you suppose you could sleep in, especially for the Wimbledon Champion.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Jane had given you some elaborate story for if anyone truly cared enough to ask about your relationship, well at least for your standards. You're pretty sure it went something along the lines of:

1. You and your boyfriend met at the start of last year and began dating soon after (but kept it on the downlow due to your job). However, you were so enamoured with him that despite your PR training, you let the fact that you weren't single slip once or twice.

2. He broke up with you a few months ago, leaving you heartbroken but still being mature and understanding.

3. (Possibly the truest element of the whole story) Carlos kissed you when he won Wimbledon for the second time, which he did.

4. Your ex boyfriend saw, came to a realisation, called you up... you know the rest.

It was very PR polished and you knew it, Jane knew it, but it was what you needed. Some story just yo cover your tracks and make people focus on your racing, not your love live. But it almost made you laugh at what lengths people had to go to. When infact the real story was only:

1. You and Carlos started dating at the start of last year...

That's it. No break up, no heartfelt reunion after you kissed another man. However, you and your boyfriend had a good laugh over the whole story and even led to an interesting conversation a few days ago.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You'd just come home after racing in the simulator all afternoon. You look down at your phone and sigh at the sight of Jane wishing you a nice day, finally ending the conversation. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you unlock the front door and step inside. You take your shoes off and walk to the living room to try and find Carlos.

And exactly as expected, he's sat on the sofa, scrolling on his phone. He looks up as you enter the room. "Buenas tardes cariño. ¿Cómo estuvo?" (Good afternoon darling, how was it). You sigh and drop back onto the sofa, leaving back on Carlos as he adjusts to put an arm around you. "Meh. Same as usual. Jane finally came up with a cover story..." Carlos hums in intrigue next to you as you explain the ins and outs of what might as well be a well constructed pyramid scheme at this point.

By the time you've finished, you feel well and truly worn out but you seek comfort in the feeling of Carlos absentmindedly rubbing shapes onto your shoulder. "I don't see what the big deal is. I mean I told Juanki ages ago." You feel your whole body tense up as you turn to Carlos... "You did what?" You're only met with Carlos' sheepish, confused face. And oh gosh, you feel like you need to lie down.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Idk who to tag so I'll tag my usual people but please let me know ow if you don't want yo be tagged in work like this:

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[transformers-spike]

Helloo, I'm wondering if you can do a sh comfort with any character from tfp plz :3

From the ☣️ annon

Went for Starscream because I know his brand of comfort is... questionable but entertaining to write - also (sfw)

You’re in trouble. Big fucking trouble. You can stay in your little lab all you want, fiddling with genetic samples with the grace of a high schooler dissecting a frog, lacking your usual precision. Yes, you got yourself into it. No, your past self refuses to apologize to the current you. And while you may understand what pushed the old you to make this decision a week ago, personal growth isn’t going to do shit after the stunt you’ve pulled. Starscream is your abductor, yes, but he’s also your “guardian” so to speak; the Decepticon responsible for your continued wellbeing. This has not stopped him from threatening your life back when you were being “rescued” from your old job, but there’s no use dwelling on it. The point is, there’s a degree of mutual trust between the two of you. In exchange for a wide variety of resources and access to actual alien technology, you’ve been hard at work handling projects he’s tossed your way. You pride yourself in it, because who wouldn’t after spending decades perfecting their craft? Or getting into a ludicrous amount of student debt… Your stint with the government was, admittedly, your lowest point; MK-Ultra 2.0 type experiments you only agreed to as a morally and financially bankrupt newcomer with a grudge against society as a whole after working half a decade in retail. To say you regret it is to put it lightly. At the very least the Decepticons are honest about their intentions, no “protecting the people” rhetoric; if they’re going to cyberform the Earth then you’ll be there with your bucket of popcorn watching it all unfold. Although, past you wasn’t quite as eager. Guilt racked your brain, tormented you well into the night, reminded you every waking moment you could only be an instrument in someone else’s plan, a pawn that would unquestionably follow its master even if it meant digging its own grave. Yes, you’re doing better now (you think), and you were concealing the secret just fine until you misjudged the boiling point of an experimental concoction and got a face-full of glass. It could have been worse, you had shielded yourself with your arms, earning only a couple scars on your face (and a frightening amount on your arms). That’s when Knock Out came in. Oh Knock Out. You cunt . Of course he was being too kind; it wasn’t from the chunks of glass he was removing with a pair of forceps, nor the tears of pain running down your face (you honestly expected him to go “Ew” and toss a blanket over your head so he wouldn’t have to look). It’s because he had seen the week-old cut along your arm. He didn’t make a fuss, didn’t point it out, didn’t so much as pause while treating you. Oh no – he sent you a message first thing in the morning informing you he relayed the extra detail to Starscream and sent you the Cybertronian equivalent of a shrug emoji. Your first reaction was to threaten his life through text, which he responded to with an eyeroll.

This leaves you here, waiting at your post, counting down the seconds to doomsday, hands shaking cursing yourself for spilling the (thankfully non-corrosive) substance down the beaker. You try to seem casual when the door opens up. You try to steady your breathing when you feel his footsteps. You try to put down the beaker and greet him – which drops and shatters. Staring down at your work, mouth agape, you don’t have the strength to look him in the optic after three major blunders in under 24 hours. Although it’s hard to avoid his gaze when he commands your attention with his presence alone. “Hey,” you say, sweating profusely. “Nice day we’re having. Out here in space, I mean.” His expression is one of exasperated frustration. “Oh don’t patronize me.” He scoops you up like a naughty kitten, glaring daggers at you. “Show me,” he orders. You cradle your arm to your chest. “But, Knock Out bandaged it yesterday-” “Are you trying to waste my time?” You hang your head low and undo the wrappings at a snail’s pace, desperately stalling, praying for anything to intervene and pull Starscream away so you can scramble under your desk and hyperventilate in peace. But your boss doesn’t have time to waste. He groans dramatically before plucking your arm and tearing through the bandages in one clean cut of his talon. “I swear it’s not that bad,” you say, the antithesis of convincing, cringing inside as he observes the scars in eerie silence. The expression he wears is unreadable. His optics drag from your arm to your face. You swallow. “It’s just a scratch-” “No,” he cuts you off, voice bursting with anger. “Do you take me for a fool?” “Wait I didn’t mean it that way-” “Shut up.” He glowers down at you, claws tightening around your arm. “I will remind you, human, that you are an investment . And I won’t have my investments break of their own volition. So tell me,” he drags you closer, sending a sudden burst of pain which you dare not show, “ why would you do it?”

“I… I don’t… I don’t know how to explain,” you whisper. He scoffs and rolls his optics. “Is it so difficult to collaborate? If you won’t tell me, then I can’t help you.” The words ring in your ears. You go weak in the knees. “Help me?” you echo, incredulity heavy on your tongue. He flashes you a look of utter confusion. “What? Did you think I would punish you? Oh, please , it’s not my modus operandi. I have a more refined manner of supervising my subordinates compared to… I’m sure you can guess whom. Now stop wasting my time, and tell me why .”

“Uh… it’s a long story,” you babble, still reeling from his words. “Then shorten it, I don’t have all cycle.”

“I’ve been plagued with some… pretty horrendous thoughts at night, among,” you vaguely gesture at your makeshift lab, “the stress of deadlines.” He contemplates you, arching an optical ridge. It feels… strangely human compared to the apathetic stares of your old bosses. You’re a number here just the same, except it will be significantly more difficult to replace you. “I can’t change the deadlines,” he starts in an oddly soft tone, scrutinizing your reaction. “However, I can procure the proper medication to avoid another incident. .” You flash him a bewildered look. “Antidepressants?” you ask incredulously. “I was referring to something along the lines of ambien or adderall.” He releases your arm and taps his chin. “Perhaps both considering your current state.”

“Oh…” You blink. “I didn’t expect you to know this much about human pharmaceuticals.”

He scoffs again, putting an offended servo to his chassis. “Unlike us, you humans are exceptionally fragile, mentally and physiologically. I had anticipated some manner of a breakdown, although not this severe.” “So am I forgiven?” you ask, a mild attempt at sarcasm to clear the ambiance. It earns you a glare. “No,” he declares unsurprisingly. “I will be confiscating the hazardous materials.” You cock an eyebrow and point at the glass vials behind you, two of which are very obviously missing from the rack (and one whose pieces are mostly dislodged from your arm). He ex-vents loudly, slapping a servo to his face. “I was referring to the sharp instruments in your possession.” His voice is muffled. “Fair enough,” you say. “And B09F will be dispensing your medication.” “A bit excessive. But sure.” He scowls at you between his digits. He seems… terribly overworked. Cybertronians don’t have eyebags, but you swear there are dark lines under his optics. You clear your throat and avoid eye contact. “Thank you. I appreciate it quite a bit. You’re much better than my previous employer.” Said previous employer orchestrate your kidnapping and made you work towards humanity’s downfall with a blaster to your head. This, you leave out completely. He freezes for a split second. Slowly, he removes his servo to contemplate you better. “Odd,” he remarks. “I thought humanity would treat you better as one of their own.” A smile spreads across his face. “No matter. At least someone can appreciate the effort I put into running a tight ship.” You return his smile in spades. “I’m sure I’m not the only one.” “Flattery won’t work on me,” he scoffs. A moment passes by. He opens up an optic like a dog waiting to be pet. “Well?” he urges. “Uh… I’m sure others admire you just as much as I? You’re… the best commander on the ship? You’re the most competent person I know?... You’re a better father than my dad ever was?” His optics snap open. “Are you comparing me to your genetic progenitor?” “To an extent? In the sense that you’re a better mentor and guardian than mine ever was.”

He squints at you. “You humans are terrible towards your own kind. Although I suppose I should accept your compliment.” His wings flick in a show of… begrudging content. “Now, take the rest of the day off.” You beam up at him. “With the condition you’re bound to your quarters.” You look down in disappointment. “Fine, you can roam around the perimeter as long as B09F chaperons you.” “Sure thing dad,” you say in an attempt at humor. He furrows his optical ridge. “If you start calling me "daddy" I'm tossing you out the airlock.”

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 3

A/N: I'M BACK AND I'M BRINGING THIS ONE BACK WITH ME. I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted one of these, but here is chapter 3! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Summary: Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (female & male), and some very sexy thoughts

Word count: ~2.5k

He doesn't even know her name.

******

It's still dark when Mr. Presley wakes from a light and fitful sleep. His dreams were filled with images of the maid, but he could never see her face. No matter how many times he turned her around, her face never appeared to him. His nightshirt is soaked in sweat and his hair is stuck to his forehead. He tries to go back to sleep, but is haunted by the same image again, so he decides to get out of bed. It's too early to wake his valet to dress him, so he pulls on some trousers and an unbuttoned shirt with a jacket. Running his fingers through his hair, he checks his reflection in the small glass. Inappropriate for a gentleman, but he doesn't have plans to see anyone.

He heads for the stables. Time spent with the horses usually relaxes him, but on his way he passes the library. Suddenly, he has an overwhelming need to go in and wait for the maid. She should be coming around to make the fire soon. Maybe he could apologize for his behavior yesterday. He wants to apologize for last night, too, but he would sooner die than admit to what he did. Completely forgetting how disheveled he is, he walks into the library to settle in one of the chairs with a book.

*****

Annabelle wakes at her normal time and dresses sleepily. Yawning, she collects the things she needs to tend the fires and starts on her daily routine. She thinks nothing of going into the library and does so without caution, like she's done every day since she's been there. Again, she's met with a surprise.

Mr. Presley sits in one of the large armchairs with his chin on his hand and a book in his lap. When she sees him, she gasps quietly and tries to turn and walk from the room.

“Wait, please, miss.” His voice is soft and kind, a startling contrast to yesterday morning when he yelled at her.

“Mr. Presley?” She cautiously walks towards him a little. He's an absolute vision sitting there in his unbuttoned shirt, his chest hair visible in the opening. For a second, she gets lost in thinking about touching him, but she quickly corrects herself.

“Come here.” He gestures for her to walk closer to him. She sets down her fire-tending supplies and walks over to him in the chair. In the time it takes her to get there, he stands up, his 6 foot frame towering over her 5 foot one. “What's your name?”

Her mouth drops open a little, both with the nature of his question and his tone of voice when he asks. He's gentle and sincere and it catches her off guard.

“Annabelle. Annabelle Martin, sir.” Before he can stop it, a small smile spreads across his face and he whispers.

“Annabelle.” She nods a little and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“I need to tend the fire, sir.”

“Oh, of course.” He gestures to the fireplace and she walks over to settle herself in front of it. She's keenly aware of his eyes on her as she works, but she can't figure out why he would want to watch her. It's quite distracting, him just standing there, and she slips and drops a piece of wood. She catches it, but she also feels a splinter dig into her finger and gives a small yelp. He drops to his knee beside her quickly.

“Are you alright?” She nods and looks up into his face. His eyebrows are pulled together in concern and he's so close that she can see his individual eyelashes. He really is beautiful and it kind of takes her breath away.

“It's just a splinter.” She holds her hand out and without thinking, he takes it in his softly. Her heart jumps with the subtle contact, but he seems to be focused on her injury. He leans down to look at the splinter.

“I think I can get it. May I try?” Their eyes meet again and this time it's his heart that skips.

“Yes, sir.” She whispers and they stare at each other for a beat before he looks back down at her pretty little hand and carefully extracts the small piece of wood. It takes him a couple of tries to get it fully, but eventually he does. He has an overwhelming desire to press his lips against her skin, but he holds back.

“There. Is that better?”

“Much. Thank you, sir.” He notices that her eyes are dark blue like the sky just before the sun disappears entirely.

“You can call me Elvis.” His voice is soft and kind and she feels like someone has poured warm honey inside her. But she shakes her head vehemently.

“Oh no, sir, I could never.” His heart sinks a little and he nods. She's right to refuse that lack of decorum between them. Still, he's overcome with a deep bitterness about the position he was born with. The money and status have their advantages, but he'd trade it all for the freedom to engage with people differently, especially now that he's met her. What would he give to be a simple farm boy right now?

“Right.” He stands up, turning away, and she finishes with the fire and then stands as well. His mood has darkened and she hopes it's not something she's done. She stands for a bit to see if he'll say anything, but he doesn't, so she turns to leave. Before she gets to the door she stops and looks back at him.

“I'm sorry if I offended you, sir.” He hangs his head and then turns to her.

“No. Sometimes I just wish… it's just…” He's not sure whether he should tell her the truth, but looking into her eyes makes it impossible to lie. “I'm quite lonely. And I forget that I'm not a person to you.”

Her heart breaks for him, all alone in this big house. There are people everywhere, but no one he can truly connect with. In this way, they have much in common.

“You are a person to me…” She pauses and then whispers. “...Elvis.”

He's shocked for a moment and then his face breaks into a smile that lights up her whole universe.

“Thank you, Annabelle.” She nods and then walks from the room. As soon as she's safely on the other side of the door, she leans back against the wall and closes her eyes, sighing deeply. Her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking. This cannot happen.

******

Annabelle goes about her daily business trying desperately to avoid running into Mr. Presley. She can't stop thinking about him, though. His soft eyes and smooth voice are constantly in her mind and she's started having dreams about him pulling her into his arms, propriety be damned. Several times she's woken up with such an aching between her thighs that she feels like she might explode. This is not how she needs to think about the man responsible for her livelihood.

Elvis spends his days doing his normal things, but he spends his nights whispering Annabelle's name into the darkness like a prayer. She consumes every open thought he has and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't trying to come up with another reason to talk to her.

One afternoon, he comes in from a meeting in town and is walking to his room to change when he hears something coming from one of the bedrooms. He quiets his steps and moves stealthily toward the door. Someone is singing a folk song in a beautiful soprano. The other maids don't sing while they work, so he knows it has to be Annabelle. He stands outside the door with his hand on his heart listening for a while. She sounds like a bird, hitting all the notes perfectly, her voice clear and strong. When she gets back to the chorus, he opens his mouth and adds the harmony.

Annabelle always sings while she works, so she doesn't think anything of it as she makes the bed. She barely even notices when another voice joins her song, but eventually she realizes it's a male voice, deep and smooth, and she freezes. When the sheet that she'd thrown out settles, she sees him standing in the doorway.

“You don't have to stop on my account.” He gives her a small and playful smile and there's a familiar heat between her legs. She swallows hard and tries to dispel the image of him throwing her on the half-made bed.

“I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir.” She stands with her eyes wide like a bunny’s.

“You didn't. I was enjoying your song. This house needs some music.” He notices how nervous she seems and it crushes him a little. He'd been dreaming of the hint of familiarity she’d shown when he’d seen her last, hoping it might continue or even deepen. He walks a little further into the room and speaks softly. “Please don't call me ‘sir’.”

The quiet longing in his voice brings her out of her own head and back to a place of empathy. His wellbeing matters more to her than her own self-imposed discomfort. Still, she's not sure what to say next. What she really wants is to go to him and throw her arms around his shoulders, but that would be inappropriate on a level that even he would find shocking.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asks quietly, his voice edged with bitterness again.

“No, I'm not afraid of you, Elvis.” She whispers in return. And it's true. She's not afraid of him in the least. She's afraid of herself and her own desires.

“Good. I would like us to be…” He hesitates. Lovers? That's what he wants to be, but he could never say it. “...friends.”

She nods, not sure how she'll manage to control herself, but wanting to give him whatever he needs.

“We can be. I'd like that too.” He smiles again and she stifles a whimper. They stand there in silence for a few more seconds before he takes another step towards her and speaks.

“It is fitting that your name is what it is.” She looks at him curiously.

“Why is that?” He takes a deep breath and another step and continues.

“Bella means beautiful. And you are.” She tries to cover her sharp inhale by blinking, but he picks up on both and cocks his head to the side a little. Is he having the same effect on her that she has on him?

“Thank you… Elvis.” He decides to take a chance and walks directly to her, leaning inappropriately close to her ear.

“You're welcome, Bella.” As he pulls back to look her in the eye, the urge to kiss her is so overpowering that he has to turn away. He walks quickly to the door and disappears through it with such haste that she's left wondering if it actually happened. But the feeling in her stomach is undeniable.

He stops outside the door to steady himself, running his hand through his hair. Another second and he would've given in and had her right there on the freshly changed sheets. His head and his heart are both reeling as he tries to gather his composure.

Annabelle sinks onto the bed, her knees shaky and weak.

******

The small clock in her room reads 2:26am when Annabelle wakes with a whimper. Every time she closes her eyes, she's flooded with images of Elvis: his hands, his mouth, him ripping open her corset and pressing those perfect lips to places on her body that have never been seen by men. This time when she opens her eyes, her chest is heaving and the aching feeling between her legs is so strong that it's almost painful. Without thinking, she puts her hand there, holding herself and whimpering.

She's never been with a man in any way, having only kissed a few boys in the village, so the ways of pleasure are completely unknown to her. Still, her body seems to know what to do on its own as her hips begin to rock against her hand. A soft moan escapes her lips, but she needs more, more pressure or something. She looks around the small room, but of course there's no one there to see her. Her hand trembles, but she slowly slides it up her inner thigh under her nightgown. She's heard of women who experienced the delights of sin, but she never imagined herself to be one of them. Still, the ache is so strong that she almost can't stop herself.

As her fingers reach her center, the thought that Elvis could touch her like this explodes in her brain and her hips begin to rock again, her fingers slipping easily through the wet folds of her sex. If only his big hand was where hers is now, touching and teasing. She doesn't even realize that she's slipped a finger inside herself until she moans and adds a second one.

“Elvis…” She whispers in the darkness, her other hand clutching her breast, pinching her hardened nipple lightly. The image of his mouth on her drives her to pinch a little harder, pretending that it's his lips and teeth. She keeps her fingers pumping in and out as she rocks her hips and the other hand slides down her belly towards her center. And then she imagines his lips, his tongue, making their way down her body to this place that burns with need for him. She fumbles a bit, but it doesn't take her long to find a spot that makes her moan out loud and rub her fingertips over it with fervor. If only it were his tongue on this intimate place. The thought makes her clench around her own fingers as she rubs harder and faster.

“Oh God, Elvis!” She whisper-screams as the pleasure builds deep in her belly. And then she sees him on top of her. She knows from the other girls in the village what it means to make love and until now she never thought it sounded very pleasant. But right now, in this moment, she needs his cock inside her with a fire she didn't know was possible. Her mind is all lips and tongues and him moving his body against her, sliding in so deep, and before she knows it there's an explosion in her center and she bites her lip to keep from making too much noise. But she arches her back and bucks her hips and writhes as the pleasure overwhelms her and she pulses on her fingers and slows her other hand as the hardened bud softens.

“Elvis… yes…” She whimpers as she starts to come down from her high, sweating and panting. When she finally finishes, she lays in bed staring at the ceiling. Whatever that was, she needs to feel it with him.

Across the house, Elvis pumps his cock as the cum shoots out all over his hand and he moans.

“Bella…”

But it isn't enough.

******

Now what?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ahundredlifetime @ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[peachhcs]

Samy does the trend where she wipes off the kisses that will gives her

i love that trend it's always so funny. samy's never wiped will's kisses off before so when she does it he's very shocked and immediately thinks he did something wrong. surprisingly someone else JUST about this so i’ll post it now :)) i wrote up so many of my requests last night to clear out my inbox but this was super fun!!

au masterlist

samy set her phone up while will was in the bathroom finishing getting ready. she saw the trend after scrolling through her for you page all morning and of course, she had to join in. pranking will was literally her favorite activity and it was payback for him spitting all of his water into her face the last time they made a tiktok together.

she pretended to be doing something on her computer while she hid her phone behind one of the potted plants on the counter. the bathroom door opened a few minutes later and samy could hear will's footsteps.

"hey, i'm gonna leave now. are you gonna be all good by yourself for a few hours?" will asked as he came up to her chair.

samy nodded, "yeah i'm gonna be fine."

"i'll be back at like 3 probably," the blonde leaned down to press a soft kiss to her cheek. samy immediately wiped her cheek when he removed his lips and will quickly made a face.

"what?" he grew confused.

"what?" samy played dumb.

"you just wiped off my kiss," will pointed out.

"i didn't," samy gaslit him and the blonde swore she did.

he decided to kiss her again this time on the lips. samy copied her exact movements from before and will definitely wasn't seeing things this time.

"does my breath smell bad or something? i brushed my teeth," the hockey player didn't know why she was wiping his kisses off.

"it smells fine," samy hummed and will stood above her staring at her confused.

he began wracking his brain of something he might've done wrong in the last few days, but when he couldn't think of anything, will was even more confused than before.

"are you mad at me or something?" he asked.

"no, why would i be mad at you?" samy finally caught his gaze and she had to stop herself from laughing when she saw her boyfriend's pout.

"because you're wiping off my kisses. did i do something wrong?" it was so hard keeping the bit up when he looked at her like that.

"no, you didn't. i'm just doing school work," samy said and that didn't answer any of will's confusion.

"you've never wiped my kisses off before?" the blonde pouted even more and samy couldn't keep it up. she bursted out laughing and poor will just stood beside her in confusion.

"it's a prank, baby, i promise. i love you," samy grabbed her phone and showed him the camera that was recording. the hockey player quickly rolled his eyes and gently shoved her.

"you're so mean to me," he mumbled as he went to grab a water from the fridge.

"i'm sorry, baby. it's payback from you spitting water in my face a few weeks ago," samy half joked.

"whatever. it was funny. that wasn't funny. i thought i did something wrong," will complained and samy got up to bring him into a hug.

"i'm sorry, you didn't. i love you. have fun," she kissed his lips to make up for the prank. will kissed her back, glad she didn't wipe her lips off after this time.

"i love you too. i'll see you later," he pecked her cheek and then finally left to go hang out with some of his teammates. he just knew he was about to get roasted in those comments whenever samy posted the video.