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jimilter · 1 month ago

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the ferrari guy | jjk.

You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself.

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note: helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3

— masterlist | feedback!

↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05

On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns.

Needless to say, he is beyond mad.

"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.

"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?"

"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"

"Uh, yes, si—"

"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.

"She is hiring an assistant, sir."

"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"

Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."

Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO.

There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so.

Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"

"Sir, I—"

"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"

Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.

But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.

↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?

Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.

You heard that in the middle of the night?

He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.

I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)

His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.

Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.

God, he’s going insane.

The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."

Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”

Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”

“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.

“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”

What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”

“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”

Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.

“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.

Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours.

You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?

You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.

And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.

There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.

Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?

Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.

Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?

“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”

Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.

The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.

But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.

“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”

Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”

Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”

And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?

Awe?

He can't freaking tell.

“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”

Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips?

When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”

Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale.

Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?

Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.

“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”

Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”

Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.

This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?

And, in fact, why did he come here?

The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?

Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with.

He wants to punch a wall.

What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.

He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.

Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?

He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.

Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.

And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"

You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"

Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”

That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”

Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”

“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”

“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”

You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs.

“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”

Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”

You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”

“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”

Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well.

Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”

You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”

Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.

And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.

“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”

He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.

But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.

"What?"

"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.

You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"

"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"

"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"

Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"

"What? What the hell did he do to you?"

He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"

You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"

"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"

"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"

He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.

You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."

Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x you #w: tfg #*mine: fic

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aurumalatus · 2 months ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year.

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face.

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect.

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue.

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer.

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places.

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks.

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops.

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly.

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him.

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side.

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now.

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure.

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing.

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his.

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #kinich #kinich x you #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #adeptus ink

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inkedells · 1 year ago

Text

look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences.

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

��Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso.

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.”

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers.

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel.

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?”

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

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stylesispunk · 6 months ago

Text

"You're the loss of my life" | part 2.

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

part one here

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers. In the aftermath, some scars hadn't healed. w.c: 12,9k (longest piece of writing I've ever written) warning: some fluff, angst HEAVY angst, mentions of dead, mentions of blood. Some events of the game will be mentioned here but they are not the same. Please forgive any grammar mistakes, since this one is so long I didn't check on everything. Paragraphs in cursive contain flashbacks. a/n: Thank you so much for the amount of love you gave to part 1, I Swear I can't put into words how wonderful was to read all your comments and thoughts. This part ended up being totally different from what I started writing but is already here, please feel free to comment or share your thoughts with me, I'm really excited to read what you think! Happy reading p.s, there is a a/n at the end :)

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You hadn’t counted the hours, nor the seconds after it happened. The pictures of blood and yelp were the only things ringing in your ears as a solemn sound taunting your worst nightmares, which became real.

Your face was dry from the salty tears dripping from your eyes

“It’s done.” Tommy said, tone somber as they look on his eyes.

Neither you or Joel spoke. He was still, 5 ft away from you, his arms red from the blood drying on his skin.

Sarah’s blood.

Your painful sob broke the stillness that was suffocating you three in a moment where words were not enough to describe the pain. The feeling of being ripped out by life itself.

You tried to stand up, walking towards the tree where Tommy had buried her, but your legs shivered, making you fall on your knees on the grass. Tommy wrapped your arms around you

Your painful sob broke the stillness that suffocated the three of you, in a moment where words were not enough to describe the pain. The feeling of being ripped apart by life itself.

You tried to stand up, walking towards the tree where Tommy had buried her, but your legs shivered, making you fall to your knees on the grass. Tommy wrapped his arms around you, trying to offer some semblance of comfort in a world that had suddenly become so cruel and unforgiving.

Joel remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the ground, his mind seemingly a million miles away. The weight of his grief was a palpable thing, a dark cloud that hung over him, suffocating and relentless.

As Tommy held you, you looked over at Joel, searching for some sign that he was still there, that he was still the man you had loved and married. But all you saw was a broken shell, a man consumed by his own despair.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “We need to be strong. For Sarah. For each other.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze never leaving the ground. The silence stretched on, a heavy, oppressive thing that threatened to crush you both.

Tommy tightened his grip around you, his own grief evident in the lines of his face. “We’ll get through this,” he said softly, though his voice lacked conviction. “We have to.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure you believed him. The world had become a dark and terrifying place, and you didn’t know how to find the light again.

But as you looked at Joel, you knew that you couldn’t give up. You couldn’t let Sarah’s death be the end of everything. You had to find a way to keep going, to find a reason to keep fighting.

For her. For Joel. For yourself.

And so, as you knelt there in the grass, your heart heavy with grief, you made a silent vow. You would survive. You would find a way to live in this new, terrifying world.

Because you had to. Because there was no other choice.

Another night had enveloped the sky, the darkness a heavy blanket that seemed to press down on you from all sides. You had fallen asleep—or at least that’s what Joel and Tommy thought—as you lay curled up under a thin blanket near the dying embers of the campfire. The exhaustion from the day’s events had left you physically drained, but your mind remained restless, haunted by the images of Sarah and the relentless march of time.

The quiet murmur of Joel and Tommy’s conversation floated over to you, their voices low and filled with an unspoken tension. You kept your eyes closed, not wanting to intrude, but unable to help listening in.

“I just don’t know how to move on,” Joel’s voice was a strained whisper, thick with pain. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. I hear her voice.”

Tommy’s response was equally quiet, a comforting murmur in the darkness. “We’ll get through this, Joel. It’s hard, I know, but we’ll find a way.”

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke again, the words tearing at your heart. “I should have saved her, Tommy. I should have done something.”

“You did everything you could,” Tommy insisted, his voice firm. “There was nothing more you could have done.”

Joel’s reply was almost inaudible, a broken confession that sent a chill down your spine. “If she hadn’t been there...if I hadn’t had to worry about her...maybe I could have saved Sarah.”

He was talking about you.

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Joel’s words hanging heavily in the air. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as you lay there, paralyzed by the enormity of what you had just heard.

Tommy’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it, a protective anger that surprised you. “You don’t mean that, Joel. You can’t blame her for what happened. It’s not fair.”

Joel’s sigh was a long, drawn-out sound, filled with resignation and regret. “I know it’s not fair. But I can’t help it, Tommy. I look at her, and all I see is what I lost. All I feel is this...anger. And I hate myself for it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. The pain of Joel’s words was a sharp, physical ache, a knife twisting in your gut. The man you loved, the man you had always relied on, felt you were a burden, a reason for his greatest loss.

Tommy’s voice softened, a gentle plea. “You need to talk to her, Joel. You both need each other now more than ever. Don’t let this tear you apart.”

There was a long pause, and then Joel spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can, Tommy. I don’t know if I have anything left to give.”

The tears finally escaped, silent trails down your cheeks as you lay there, feeling more alone than you ever had. The love you had once shared with Joel felt like a distant memory, a fragile thing that had shattered under the weight of your loss.

The next morning dawned bleak and gray, the sky a canvas of muted clouds. You woke early, the remnants of Joel and Tommy's conversation from the night before echoing in your mind. The pain and betrayal still stung, a constant reminder of how much had changed in such a short time. You quietly gathered your things, making sure not to wake them as you slipped away from the camp.

You needed time alone, a chance to clear your head and process the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you. The forest surrounding the camp was thick and dark, a labyrinth of trees and shadows that offered a temporary escape from the crushing reality of your grief.

Hours passed as you wandered aimlessly, the solitude a bitter comfort. You tried to make sense of Joel's words, to understand the depth of his pain and the burden of his guilt. But the hurt was too fresh, too raw, and all you could feel was the aching void where your heart used to be.

When you finally returned to the camp, Joel was waiting for you, his expression a storm of worry and anger. "Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the trees. "You can't just walk off like that!"

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling beneath the surface. But the words wouldn't come. You felt too empty, too drained to respond. The memory of his confession hung between you like a dark cloud, a silent reminder of the chasm that had opened up between you.

Joel's anger faltered as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding. He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Please, don't do that again. I can't... I can't lose you too."

Still, you remained silent, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him how much his words had hurt, how deeply they had cut you. But the pain was too great, the wound too fresh.

Seeing your silence, Joel's face crumpled, the anger giving way to a deep, abiding sorrow. He reached out, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

You stood there, enveloped in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. But the sadness was a heavy weight in your chest, a barrier that kept you from fully returning his embrace. The words he had spoken the night before replayed in your mind, a constant reminder of the distance that now lay between you.

For the sake of your marriage, for the fragile hope that someday things might be different, you decided to pretend. To bury the hurt and the anger deep inside, to put on a brave face and move forward as best you could.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Joel with tear-filled eyes. "Let's just... let's just try to get through this," you said softly, your voice trembling. "One day at a time."

Joel nodded, his expression a mix of relief and regret. "One day at a time," he echoed, his grip tightening around you as if afraid to let go.

Four months had gone by in mere seconds. The story you and Joel carefully built waltzed into flames, and you didn’t look back after that house was set on fire. You had made your point clear, and you kept an oath in your words. You avoided Joel and forced yourself to pretend he didn’t exist. He became just a stranger you once shared your bare soul and body with.

It was not easy. Not for you, not for him. Your feelings were far from being buried, but in the midst of chaos, you couldn’t allow yourself to die from his words. A man falling out of love with you wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to you.

During the time your garden dried of thirst, a new arrival to Jackson caught your attention. A man. Dr. Matt Carter was a soft-spoken, kind-hearted man with a gentle demeanor and a wealth of medical knowledge. His arrival brought fresh air to the whole community. With his skills and charm, you found yourself drawn to his quiet compassion for others, as if this reeked world hadn’t corrupted him into becoming just a gosht of what he once was.

And you found yourself looking for that.

You and Matt had spent time together, sharing stories, sharing time, and the scars that had wounded both of your hearts. He lost his family during the first days of the outbreak, and you had lost yours somehow. His presence brought warmth to your soul; there was a tentative connection born from respect and understanding, hitting you like a wave.

And as if you were falling for another man, Joel watched from afar; his expression remained unreadable every time he had a glimpse of you in town. The sight of you smiling, genuinely smiling after everything he had put you through, stirred something within him—a mix of longing and regret that he had taken you for granted.

He had taken you for granted. He realized that now was far too late. His actions and choices had driven a wedge between you, and now he was paying the price. You had moved on; you had found someone who could offer you the warmth and kindness he had failed to provide. And he was left with the ashes of a life he had burned down with his own hands.

Ellie had become distant, her eyes reflecting a hurt and disappointment that cut Joel to the core. She no longer sought his guidance or comfort, retreating into her world, leaving him more isolated than ever. And Sophie... Oh god, Joel couldn't even bear to stomach her. The guilt and shame were too overwhelming, a constant reminder of his betrayal, but as he followed the figment of his worst intentions inside his head, he ended up in the same bed with her almost every night.

Every night, the guilt clawed at him as he sought solace in Sophie's arms, trying to escape the suffocating regret that consumed him. He hated himself for it, for betraying you even further, but he was trapped in a cycle of self-destruction that he couldn't seem to break free from.

One night, after another argument with Ellie that ended with her storming off, Joel found himself once again in Sophie's bed. The familiarity of her touch did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. Instead, it only deepened the chasm of regret and self-loathing that threatened to swallow him whole.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his choices pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep hurting you, hurting himself, and destroying everything that had once been good in his life.

He slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Sophie, and dressed quickly. He needed to clear his head to find some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of his emotions. He wandered the dark streets of Jackson, the cold night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it.

His thoughts were a tangled mess of regret and longing, and he found himself standing outside your house, the warm glow of the lights inside casting a soft halo around the doorway. He could see you through the window, laughing with Matt, and the sight of your happiness was like a knife to his heart.

He turned away, unable to bear it, and walked aimlessly until he found himself at the edge of the community, where the world beyond Jackson's walls loomed dark and foreboding. He sat down on a bench, his head in his hands, and let the tears fall.

"Hey."

Joel looked up to see Tommy approaching, his expression a mix of sympathy and concern. "What are you doing out here, Joel?" Tommy asked, sitting down beside him.

Joel shook his head, unable to find the words to explain the turmoil inside him. "I can't keep doing this, Tommy," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion. "I can't keep hurting everyone."

Tommy placed a hand on Joel's shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "You gotta find a way to make things right, Joel. For yourself and for them."

Joel nodded, but the path to redemption felt impossible to navigate. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted.

"Start by being honest," Tommy said gently. "With yourself and with them. It's the only way you're going to find any kind of peace."

Joel sighed, knowing Tommy was right, but the thought of facing you, of admitting everything, filled him with a deep sense of dread. Still, he knew he couldn't keep running from his mistakes. He had to face them head-on, no matter how painful it might be.

The morning air was crisp and cool as Joel and Tommy walked toward the communal dining hall. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden glow over the town of Jackson. Joel's mind was heavy with the conversation from the night before, but he knew Tommy was right. He had to start making things right, even if it felt impossible.

As they entered the dining hall, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and a cooked breakfast greeted them. The room was filled with the chatter of early risers, everyone eager to start their day. Joel's eyes scanned the room, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw you.

You were standing by the serving area, helping with the morning tasks. Your smile was warm as you handed a plate to one of the residents, your laughter ringing out softly. It was a sound Joel hadn't heard in a long time, and it struck him with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.

Tommy nudged Joel gently. "She's been helping out in the mornings," he explained quietly. "Trying to stay busy, I think."

Joel nodded, his gaze fixed on you. He hadn't seen you like this in months—so alive and vibrant—and it filled him with a mix of longing and regret. He wanted to go over to you to talk, but the weight of his mistakes held him back.

"Come on," Tommy said, leading him to an empty table. They sat down, and Tommy grabbed two mugs of coffee from a passing tray, handing one to Joel. "You should talk to her," he urged, his voice low and earnest. "It's not going to get any easier."

Joel watched as you handed out another plate, your smile lighting up the room. Just as he mustered the courage to stand up and walk over to you, Matt appeared at your side. The doctor wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple, a gesture so intimate and familiar that it made Joel's heart ache.

He froze, his intentions crumbling. The warmth and ease between you and Matt were unmistakable, a stark contrast to the cold distance that had grown between you and Joel. Tommy, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor, followed his gaze and sighed.

Joel didn’t know, but your heart felt heavy at the sight of him, weighed down by a complicated mix of emotions. Seeing him standing there, so vulnerable and sincere, had stirred something inside you that you had tried to bury for months.

You tried to focus back on Matt, his kind eyes filled with spark. "Is everything okay?" he asked softly, his hand gently touching your arm.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah.”

Matt gave you a reassuring smile. "Take your time," he said. "I'm here if you need to talk."

You appreciated his support, but your thoughts were consumed by Joel. Despite everything that had happened, the sight of him standing there, so lost and full of regret, tugged at your heartstrings. You remembered the man he used to be man you had fallen in love with.

As you tried to focus on the tasks at hand, your gaze kept drifting back to Joel. He was sitting with Tommy, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast. The sight of him like that broke your heart all over again. You could see the pain etched into his features, the remorse and longing that mirrored your own feelings.

The memories of your life together flooded back—moments of joy, field dreams, and quiet nights. It was hard to reconcile those memories with the man who had hurt you so deeply. Yet, despite everything, a part of you still cared for him and still wanted to believe that there was a chance for redemption.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Four more months passed; that meant you and Joel hadn’t spoken to each other in eight months, and that was everything you could think about. The silence between you had become a constant, oppressive presence in your life. Despite your best efforts to move on, Joel's absence was a gaping wound that refused to heal. During this time, your relationship with Matt has grown closer. He had become a steady presence in your life, offering you kindness and understanding in a world that often felt devoid of both.

So, as these months went by, doubts began to creep into your mind. Every time you were with Matt, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The shadow of your past with Joel loomed large, casting a pall over your attempts to forge a new chance.

Winter was fast approaching, and Jackson was bustling with preparations for the colder months. That night, the town had organized a party. The community gathered in the large hall, the warmth of the fire and the sound of music creating a temporary respite from the harsh reality outside.

You were with Matt, trying to enjoy the festivities, but the weight of your unresolved feelings made it difficult to fully immerse yourself in the celebration. You found yourself glancing around, half-expecting to see Joel in the crowd, even though you knew it was unlikely.

Matt noticed your distraction and leaned in closer, his brow furrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but tinged with worry.

You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm just thinking about everything that's happened."

Matt's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "I know it's been tough, but we're here now. Together."

"I appreciate you spending time with me," Matt said, his eyes warm and sincere. "It's been easy adjusting to everything here, but your company has made it even easier."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm glad we met, Matt. You've been a great help to all of us, and it's nice to have someone to talk to."

You squeezed his hand, appreciating his support, but the doubt still lingered. As the night wore on, you tried to push your feelings aside and focus on the present, but it was a losing battle.

Later in the evening, you and Matt found a quieter corner of the hall. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. "I've been meaning to talk to you," he began, his voice serious.

You nodded, bracing yourself for the conversation you knew was coming.

"I care about you a lot," Matt continued, "and I want to take this relationship to the next level. But I need to know if you're truly ready for that."

Your heart clenched at his words. You wanted to be ready to move forward and leave the past behind, but doubt gnawed at you. "Matt, I don't know if I can," you admitted, your voice trembling. "There's so much I haven't dealt with, and I don't want to hurt you."

Matt's expression hardened, and he pulled his hand away. "I can't keep waiting forever," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "I've been patient, but it feels like you're still holding onto something—or someone."

The truth of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had been holding onto Joel, to the memories and the pain. You couldn't deny it any longer. "I'm sorry," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, but I can't ignore my feelings."

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand, but I can't keep doing this. I need someone who is all in, not someone who's still tied to their past, nor someone who wants to sleep with me."

Before you could respond, he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone in the corner of the hall. The weight of your unresolved feelings and the consequences of your indecision pressed down on you, and you felt more lost than ever.

You stood up, needing some fresh air, and walked out of the hall. The cold night air bit at your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself and took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts.

The night was clear, the stars twinkling above you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the full weight of your emotions. You knew you couldn't keep running from the past, but facing it felt like an insurmountable task.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder where Joel was and if he was struggling with the same unresolved feelings that haunted you.

Because you thought he deserved it.

The dim light from the streetlamp outside your window casts long shadows across the room, its faint glow barely illuminating the small apartment. You had fallen into a restless sleep, your dreams plagued by memories of the past and fears of the future. The mattress beneath you was thin and uncomfortable, and the scratchy blanket offered little warmth against the cold reality of the world outside.

The sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist jolted you awake. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you were disoriented, caught between the remnants of a dream and the harshness of reality. You tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary, but then you recognized the familiar touch and the scent that belonged to Joel.

"It's just me," he whispered, his voice rough and weary. The tension in your body eased slightly, but the unease remained.

"Where were you?" You asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the worry evident in your tone. "It's past 2 AM."

Joel sighed, his breath warm against the back of his neck. "Out scavenging," he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We needed more supplies, and I couldn't sleep."

You turned to face him, your eyes searching for his in the dim light. The lines of worry and fatigue etched into his face were more pronounced, a testament to the weight he carried on his shoulders. "You can't keep doing this, Joel," you said softly, your hand resting on his cheek. "You need to rest too."

"I know," he admitted, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. "I just... I can't stop thinking about everything. About Sarah, about you, about how we're going to survive."

Your heart ached at his words. The pain of loss and the burden of survival were constant companions in your lives. "We'll get through this," you said, your voice filled with a determination that belied your own fears. "Together."

Joel's eyes opened, and he looked at you with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "I don't deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But I'm so damn grateful you're here."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We're in this together," you repeated, your voice firm. "No matter what."

You had never told him you had heard the words.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate intensity, as if he feared losing you too. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest; the shared rhythm was a reminder that, despite everything, you were still alive and still fighting.

As you lay there in the darkness, holding each other close, the world outside the tiny apartment seemed to fade away.

You stood there, staring up at the night sky, lost in your thoughts. The cold air nipped at your skin, but you welcomed the sharpness. It kept you grounded and reminded you that you were still here, still feeling, even if every emotion seemed to tear at you from the inside.

A voice broke through your reverie, soft but unmistakable. "It's a clear night, right?"

Startled, you turned to see Joel standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets. The lines on his face seemed deeper in the moonlight, and his eyes held a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own.

After eight months, you were there face-to-face.

"Joel," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged slightly, the motion almost imperceptible. "I needed some air. I saw you out here. I thought maybe you could use some company."

You looked back up at the sky, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm not sure I can handle this conversation right now."

Joel took a step closer, his presence both comforting and suffocating at the same time. "I don't want to push you," he said softly. "I just felt like you might need someone to talk to."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet night. "Talk? What is there to say, Joel? Everything's so messed up."

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I know. I never wanted things to end up like this. I messed up more than I can ever make right."

You shook your head, feeling the sting of tears again. “You ruin everything.”

No more words came out of his mouth, and you closed your eyes, hoping he would leave you alone.

"How long?" Joel asked finally, his voice breaking the silence. "How long have you been with the doctor?”

You looked at him, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. "We're just friends, Joel. He helps me cope with everything. But it's not what you think."

Joel's shoulders slumped, relief mingling with the guilt in his eyes. "I don't know what I think anymore," he admitted. "I just know that I can't keep pretending like this doesn't hurt. Seeing you with him reminds me of what I lost. What I threw away."

+++

The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the small window. You and Joel had finally found a place to rest in Jackson, a sanctuary after months of navigating through the states with Ellie. It felt surreal to be in a bed again, to have a roof over your heads and a semblance of normalcy.

You lay beside Joel, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The warmth of his body next to yours was a comfort you had almost forgotten. As you turned to face him, you saw his eyes were open, gazing at you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"I can't believe we're here," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.

Joel reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Me neither," he replied softly. "Feels like a dream."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "A good dream."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know it's been hard," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Everything we've been through... but we're here now. And I want you to know that I love you. Always have, always will."

The words took your breath away. It had been so long since you had heard them, since you had felt the certainty of his love. Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, cupping his face in your hands.

"I love you too, Joel," you whispered, your voice breaking. "More than anything."

He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. You buried your face in his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside might have been falling apart, but in that moment, you had each other, and that was enough.

Joel’s words cut through the night air like a blade. “Sophie is pregnant.”

You felt your breath catch, the weight of his revelation sinking in. Anger, hurt, and confusion are all mixed together in a tumultuous storm inside you. “What do you want me to do? To kill him?” you retorted, your voice sharp with sarcasm and pain.

Joel shook his head, his expression somber. “It isn’t mine.”

“Good,” you snapped. “I can't say what kind of mother Sophie will be, but that child doesn't deserve a father like you.”

Joel flinched at your words, the sting of them evident in his eyes.

“How do you know it’s not yours?” you asked.

“Because she is two months old,” Joel said, his voice steady but filled with a weary resignation. “And do you think I would have the strength to be with her after what happened?”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. The weight of the past, the betrayal, and the lingering feelings between you made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like you care about someone’s feelings,” you spat, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Come on,” Joel pleaded, his eyes filled with desperate earnestness. “You should stop being this unfair.”

“Unfair?” You echoed, your voice rising. “You think I’m being unfair? After everything you’ve done?”

Joel took a step closer, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I’ve hurt you. But I never wanted things to turn out like this. I never wanted to lose you.”

“Then why?” you demanded, tears streaming down your face. “Why did you do it? Why did you throw everything away?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched into his features. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was lost. I was hurting. And I made a terrible mistake. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

He never stopped loving you; he said those words.

You shook your head, and the pain in your chest was almost unbearable. “Loving me wasn’t enough, Joel. It wasn’t enough to keep you from hurting me. And now... now I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crushing him. “I understand,” he said quietly. “But I need you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. To earn your trust back. Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

You looked at him, the man you had once loved with all your heart, and felt a flicker of the old connection between you. The weight of unspoken words and lingering pain hung in the air between you, and you took a deep breath, needing to finally voice what had been haunting you for so long.

"After Sarah died..." you began, your voice trembling. "I know you spent weeks wishing it would have been me instead of her. Don’t try to deny it. I heard you the night after. You and Tommy were talking, and he was telling you not to push me away, and you said, "

"She was our daughter," Joel interrupted, his eyes glistening with tears as he realized how horrible he had been to you. "You know what it felt like to lose her."

"I know," you replied, your voice soft but steady. "It would make you feel better to know I did it too, but that's the difference between us. I would never wish that because you mean everything to me, and without Sarah, I needed you to keep going."

Joel's expression crumbled, the weight of your words breaking through the walls he had built around his heart. He took a step closer, his hands trembling as he reached out to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I was so lost in my grief that I couldn't see how much you were hurting too. I pushed you away when I should have held you closer."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and regret there. It was a glimpse of the man you had once loved—the man you had hoped he could be again.

"I needed you, Joel," you said, your voice breaking. "I needed you to be there for me, but you shut me out. And then... then you betrayed me in the worst possible way."

Joel nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I know. And I can't change what I've done. But I want to make things right, if you'll let me. I want to be the man you deserve—the man who can be there for you like I should have been. All over man”

You closed your eyes, the weight of his words settling over you.

Joel's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours with a mix of sorrow and understanding. "I was scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of reopening old wounds, scared of facing my own guilt and grief, I thought if I buried it deep enough, it would eventually fade away. But I was wrong."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, the pain of years of unspoken grief rising to the surface. "I was scared too," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of facing the reality of what we had lost together."

As Joel's words hung heavy in the air, you felt a surge of anger and betrayal rising within you. "You're going to talk about her now?" You spat, your voice tinged with bitterness. "You never mentioned her because you felt it was better to pretend, she didn't exist?"

Joel recoiled at the accusation, his eyes filled with pain. "You don't get to tell me how I should feel," he protested, his voice shaking with emotion. "I loved her too, you know. Losing her was... it was the hardest thing I've ever been through. Because when I saved you, she died,"

"So, letting my baby die was your revenge?"

"It was my baby too," Joel insisted, his voice pleading. "I would have given anything to save him; you know that."

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. "You're..." you started, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain and anger. "I fucking despise you, Joel," you finally spat, the words heavy with the weight of your broken heart. "Fuck you, fuck Sophie, fuck everything that..."

But before you could finish, Joel's voice cut through the chaos, soft and filled with longing. "I miss you," he whispered, his words echoing in the space between you.

"You have to," you replied bitterly, your heart aching with the rawness of your emotions. "When did you stop loving me?"

"I love you," Joel said, his voice filled with sincerity.

You sighed, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. "When did you fall out of love with me?" you asked quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I never did," Joel confessed, his eyes locking with yours. "You're the love of my life. I would marry you in all the universes."

"But?" you pressed, your heart clenching with the fear of his answer.

"But every time I look at you, I see my baby girl in your eyes,” Joel faltered, his voice trailing off.

"You could have told me,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I don't forgive you, Joel. I loved the old you, I was in love with that man. I had a beautiful girl with him, and they both died that night."

"Stop talking like I don't exist anymore," Joel pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion.

"You don't," you replied, your voice hollow with grief. "The Joel Miller I loved would never do what you did."

As the truth of your words settled over you both, you felt the weight of your shared grief and regret pressing down on your shoulders. But somewhere deep inside, you knew that the man you had loved still lived, intertwined with the veins of your soul, forever a part of you.

You walked away from him.

As the days passed by, the encounter with Joel lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you had tried to bury. The pain, anger, and lingering love for the man he once was weighed heavily on you, despite your attempts to move forward. You found yourself distracted, your thoughts often drifting back to that night and the raw honesty of his words.

Joel, too, was affected by the confrontation. He became more withdrawn, his guilt and regret casting a shadow over his every action. You could see the torment in his eyes whenever your paths crossed in Jackson, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds that had yet to heal.

One cold winter morning, you were busy with your usual tasks, trying to keep your mind occupied. The biting wind swept through the town, and you pulled your coat tighter around you as you made your way through the streets. As you approached the central square, you noticed a commotion near the gates.

Ellie had arrived, her face flushed with anger. She stormed through the gates, her eyes blazing with fury. Concerned, you approached her, hoping to understand what had happened.

"Ellie, what's wrong?" you asked gently, trying to catch her attention.

She glared at you; her anger palpable. "Fuck you," she snapped, her voice filled with a bitterness that cut through you.

Taken aback by her hostility, you stepped back, watching as she continued her march towards the center of Jackson. You followed her with your eyes, your concern growing. It was then that you saw Joel arriving from the opposite direction, his expression tense and troubled.

Joel's eyes found yours across the space, and in that moment, you realized that something she had found out the truth. The weight of his gaze and the anger in Ellie's demeanor pointed to a revelation that had shaken them both to the core.

The air felt fresh against the skin of your face, but for a reason you couldn’t kept going, you paralyzed as you saw Ellie’s back from behind as she kept making her way towards Jackson in complete silence.

You and Joel had sworn everything he had said was true. You had made a choice for her and th guilt began to creep within you.

Joel noticed your distress, and walk backwards until he was in front of you “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I can’t keep this secret” you told him.

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked into your eyes. "I need you to be strong," he said softly. "For her. For us. We'll protect her from this, together. We can't ever tell her the truth," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She can't know what really happened with the Fireflies."

You stood beside him, the enormity of his words settling over you. "I know," you replied, your voice heavy with resignation. "But it's going to be hard to keep it from her, Joel. She deserves to know the truth."

Joel turned to face you; his eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Please," he said, his voice breaking. "I need you to promise me. For her sake. For all our sakes."

You met his gaze, seeing the anguish and fear in his eyes. You understood the stakes, the delicate balance that needed to be maintained to protect Ellie. With a heavy heart, you nodded.

"I promise," you said softly. "We'll keep the secret."

Joel exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," he murmured. "I know it's not fair to ask this of you, but I couldn't bear to lose her. Not after everything."

You reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering what comfort you could. "We'll protect her, Joel. Together."

Joel's expression softened. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

Ellie’s words stung, but your concern for her outweighed the hurt. Determined to understand what had set her off, you followed her through the bustling streets of Jackson. The winter air was crisp, and your breath was visible as you quickened your pace to keep up with her.

“Ellie, please,” you called after her, but she didn’t slow down. Her steps were fueled by anger and pain, and you knew something significant must have happened.

She finally stopped near the edge of the settlement, in a secluded spot away from prying eyes. You approached her cautiously, giving her space but making it clear you weren’t going anywhere.

“What happened?” You asked, your voice gentle but firm.

Ellie spun around to face you, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and betrayal. “You and Joel think you can just lie to me? About everything?”

Your heart sank. The truth had come out. “Ellie, I—”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, her voice trembling. “Don’t try to explain it away. I know what happened. I know what he did and what you both did.”

The weight of her accusation hung in the air, and you felt the full force of your guilt crashing down on you. “We were trying to protect you,” you said quietly. “We thought it was the only way.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, but her anger didn’t waver. “You had no right to make that choice for me,” she spat. “I deserved to know the truth. I deserved to make my own decisions.”

You took a step closer, your own eyes misting with tears. “I’m sorry, Ellie. We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Ellie shook her head, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You know, you both deserve each other,” she said, her voice breaking. “That baby you lost didn’t deserve a liar mother.”

Ellie’s words cut deeper than any blade. You felt your breath catch in your throat, the pain of her accusation mingling with the agony of your loss. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the words to respond.

“Ellie, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t say that.”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps behind you. Joel had followed, his face etched with worry and regret. “Ellie,” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“Save it, Joel,” she said, her voice cold. “I don’t want to hear any more lies.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, his eyes pleading as he looked at her. “Ellie, please. We did what we thought was best. We were trying to protect you.”

Ellie’s anger flared again, and she took a step back, as if physically recoiling from his words. “Protect me? By lying to me? By taking away my choice.”

Joel’s expression crumbled, and he glanced at you, his eyes filled with desperation. “We were wrong,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We were wrong to keep the truth from you. But we did it out of love. Out of fear of losing you.”

Ellie’s gaze flickered between you and Joel, her emotions a storm of betrayal and hurt. “I need time,” she said finally, her voice cracking. “I need to think.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Joel. The guilt and regret in his eyes were too much to bear. You took a step back, then another, putting distance between you and the man who had once been your anchor. The man who had become a stranger through a web of lies and broken promises.

“Wait!” Joel called out, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t go.”

But you couldn’t stay. Not now. Not with everything crashing down around you. You turned away, your heart heavy with grief and sorrow, and walked away from Joel, leaving him standing alone in the snow.

As you made your way through the town, the cold wind stinging your cheeks, you couldn’t help but replay the events in your mind. The pain in Ellie’s eyes, the desperation in Joel’s voice, and the unbearable weight of your own guilt. You had thought you were protecting her, but in doing so, you had shattered the trust that had once held you all together.

The night was cold, a sharp wind slicing through the darkness as the three of you huddled around the crackling fire. The journey to the hospital had been long and arduous, each day blurring into the next as you traversed through abandoned towns and treacherous terrain. But tonight, there was a strange sense of peace among you.

You rested your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours, a welcome contrast to the biting cold. Ellie sat across from you, poking at the fire with a stick, her face illuminated by the dancing flames.

"Ugh, you two are disgusting," Ellie joked, a playful smirk on her lips as she watched the two of you. "Get a room, seriously."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire. Joel's arm tightened around you, a subtle yet comforting gesture. "Jealous much?" you teased back, meeting Ellie's eyes with a grin.

"Yeah, right," Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "As if I'd want to cuddle up to Joel."

"Hey now," Joel interjected, his voice carrying a mock tone of hurt. "I'm plenty cuddly."

Ellie laughed, the sound infectious and genuine, filling the night with a rare sense of normalcy. It was moments like these that made the hardships of your journey bearable, the little pockets of happiness that you all clung to.

As the laughter died down, a comfortable silence settled over the three of you. You closed your eyes, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of Joel's chest beneath your head, the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby.

"We're becoming a little family, aren't we?" you mused on Joel’s chest just for him to listen.

"Joel."

He turned back at the sound of your voice, the familiar timbre soothing his demons as only you could tame them. How could he have messed up all he had with you?

You hadn't wanted to talk to him in so long that he felt he could cry just from hearing his name slip from your lips.

"Hey," he stuttered.

"I-" you started, struggling to find the words to begin a conversation with the man you had once shared your bare soul and body with. Carefully, you stepped onto the porch of the house you had once shared, your legs trembling. "I....- knew... well. Ellie found out the truth," you said, standing next to him, barely touching his shoulder with yours.

"She hates me," Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"She doesn't," you declared firmly. "She's mad at me too, but she doesn't really hate you or me."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," he said, his voice tinged with hurt.

"I don't," you declared, your tone steady. "I don't feel anything for you, but I won't blame you for what you did."

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he turned to face you fully, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the connection you once shared. "I don't know how to make things right," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You can’t.” You declared, “At least, not for now. You need to let her alone for a while.”

Joel nodded, his expression a mixture of resignation and longing. "I know," he said softly. "I just... I want to fix things, but I don't know where to start."

You met his gaze, seeing the turmoil in his eyes mirrored in your own. "Sometimes, the best thing we can do is give each other space," you said, your voice gentle yet firm. "Let Ellie process everything in her own time. And in the meantime, we need to figure out how to move forward."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't even know if she'll ever forgive me," he admitted, his voice heavy with doubt.

"You can't control how she feels," you reminded him, your words laced with empathy. "All you can do is show her that you're truly sorry and that you're willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

Joel's gaze softened, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly, the weight of his words carrying the weight of his remorse. "For not giving up on me."

You gave him a small, sad smile.

Joel swore he could die just to repair what he had done to you, just for having you this close to him. If one thing had been different, what would it be like now?

The innocence of a first kiss doesn't compare to the stolen glances between two people who once knew everything about each other. And when you said so, you meant him.

He knew you; he drew a constellation in your arms, but he didn't allow you to catch a glimpse of himself in you.

You were a thing—a disposable one.

But he was everything, caring while being careless.

He was human; he loved you, but he was a man.

One who didn't know how to love after humanity had taken everything from him.

"Ellie." You said, looking at her sitting outside your house.

"Why the hell were you talking to him?" she asked, bitterness on her tongue.

"Because I knew you talked" you replied

"Yes, but I don't want you to talk to him"

"I was just checking on him" you defended yourself from her accusations.

"Why? Why do you care about him?

"Ellie-“

"No! He makes you cry every time he is near you, I don't want that.'

"I was part of the lie too and I'm sorry but if you would be here now, I wouldn’t be alive

"I don't hate you. I'm sad you did it, but you didn't make that choice for me. Joel did, he is the one to blame.

"Don't even defend him," Ellie snapped, her frustration boiling over. "I swear, I'll get mad at you for that."

You fell silent, the weight of Ellie's words settling over you like a heavy shroud. In that moment, you realized just how much pain and anger Joel's actions had caused, not just for Ellie, but for you too. And as you looked at her sitting outside your house, you knew that navigating this tangled web of emotions was going to be harder than you ever imagined.

As winter settled over Jackson, the town transformed into a snow-covered wonderland, blanketed in pristine white. The days grew shorter, the air colder, and the residents bundled up in layers of warm clothing as they went about their daily routines.

In the weeks that followed Ellie's revelation, tensions remained high among the residents. The fallout from the truth about the Fireflies cast a long shadow over the community, leaving everyone grappling with their own feelings of guilt and betrayal.

For you, the days passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. You found solace in the routine of daily life, throwing yourself into your work and trying to push aside the weight of your own guilt and regret.

As New Year's Eve approached, the town began to buzz with anticipation. Despite the somber mood that hung over Jackson, there was still a sense of hope and renewal in the air. The residents came together to celebrate the passing of another year, eager to leave the pain and heartache of the past behind them.

The streets were decorated with twinkling lights and festive decorations, and the sound of laughter and music filled the air.

The New Year's party was in full swing, with laughter and music filling the air. The community of Jackson was determined to celebrate and to find moments of joy despite the darkness that surrounded them. You were there, mingling and trying to put on a brave face, when suddenly you heard Ellie's voice rise above the din.

The room fell silent after that, all eyes turning towards the confrontation. Joel stood there, looking wounded and weary, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Ellie's words. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

You felt a pang of sympathy for Joel, despite everything that had happened between you. After a moment's hesitation, you followed him outside, needing to see if he was okay.

You found him on the porch of what was once the house you both shared, sitting on the steps with his guitar in his lap. His fingers plucked at the strings absently, creating a soft, melancholic tune. He looked up, startled, as you approached, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

"I didn't expect to come out here," you admitted, taking a seat beside him. "But I heard what happened inside. Are you okay?"

Joel let out a heavy sigh, his fingers stilling on the guitar strings. "Just another fight with Ellie," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "It seems like all we do lately is fight."

You nodded, understanding all too well the strain that grief and guilt could place on relationships. "It's hard," you said softly. "On all of us."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. "I never meant to hurt you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Any of you."

"I know," you said, your voice just as quiet. "But that doesn't change what happened."

Joel nodded; his expression hurt. "I don't know how to fix this," he admitted. "I don't know how to make things right."

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the only sound was the soft strumming of Joel's guitar. The tension between you was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the love and pain that still lingered between you.

"Maybe some things can't be fixed," you said finally, your voice trembling. "Maybe we just have to find a way to live with the pieces."

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with deep, abiding sorrow. "I'm willing to try," he said softly. "If you'll let me."

"I never thought I would see you with a guitar again," you said, ignoring his words and the way your heart constricted against your ribs at the reminiscence of the man you loved, back when Joel was full of life and hope.

Joel glanced down at the guitar in his lap, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess some habits die hard," he murmured, his fingers resuming their gentle strumming. The soft melody hung in the air, a haunting reminder of a time when things were simpler, when love and music filled your lives instead of pain and regret.

You watched him for a moment, the familiar chords stirring memories that you had tried so hard to bury. "Do you remember the first song you played for me?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Joel nodded, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory. "Of course I do. 'Can't Help Falling in Love.' You said it was your favorite."

"It still is," you admitted, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Even now."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound being the soft strumming of Joel's guitar. The tension between you eased slightly, replaced by a shared sense of nostalgia and longing.

Joel finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. "I miss those days," he said quietly.

"So do I," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "But we can't go back, Joel. We can only move forward."

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "But I wish I could make things right between us."

You looked away, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "Some things can't be fixed, Joel," you said softly. "Some wounds are too deep."

Joel's fingers stilled on the guitar strings, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "For everything."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "I know you are," you said finally. "But sorry isn't enough to change what happened. It isn't enough to heal the hurt."

"I know," he said again, his voice filled with sorrow.

You smiled softly, a memory from the past momentarily lifting the weight on your heart. "Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant with Sarah back then?"

Joel's eyes softened, and he returned your smile, the sadness in his gaze briefly replaced by warmth. "How could I forget? You were glowing. It was the happiest I'd ever seen you."

You chuckled at the bittersweet sound. "You were so stunned, you just sat there for a minute, speechless. I thought you were upset."

Joel shook his head, his fingers stilling on the guitar strings. "I wasn't upset. I was overwhelmed. It was like everything I'd ever wanted was finally coming true."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the shared memory bridging the chasm that had grown between you. The night air was cool, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves nearby.

"I miss those days too," you admitted softly. "When life was simple, and our biggest worries were about making ends meet, not surviving day to day,"

Joel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We can't go back to those days, but maybe... maybe we can find a way to move forward."

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes touching a chord within you. "It's going to take time, Joel. And a lot of effort."

"I know," he replied, his voice steady. "But I'm willing to try. For us, and for Ellie."

The mention of Ellie brought a fresh wave of emotion. "She's been through so much," you said, your voice thick with concern. "We need to be strong for her."

Joel's fingers resumed their gentle strumming, the soft melody filling the night air once more. "We will be.”

Your heart began to beat faster—a heavy, suffocating rhythm that filled your chest. For a moment, it felt as if the man you once knew, the man you had loved with all your heart, was sitting right there beside you. In that instant, there was no cheating, no dead baby, and no outbreak. Just you and Joel, the way it used to be.

He looked at you with those soft brown eyes of his, eyes that once held nothing but love and hope. The same eyes that had crinkled at the corners when he smiled had looked at you with such adoration and warmth.

Joel's fingers, calloused yet gentle, reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was so light and tender that you almost didn't feel it. But the gesture—the simple, familiar intimacy of it—made your breath catch in your throat.

"Do you ever think about what could have been?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

Joel's eyes held yours, and for a moment, you saw the depth of his sorrow and regret. "Every day," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I think about it every day."

The weight of his words settled over you, mingling with your own grief and longing. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had grown between you, but the wounds were still too raw, too fresh.

"I'm sorry for everything," he continued, his voice breaking. "For all the pain I've caused you."

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. "Stop saying that," you whispered. "I know you are."

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the past had dissolved, leaving only the two of you, bound by the love you had once shared. The guitar's soft melody wrapped around you, a bittersweet echo of the happiness you had known.

But reality, harsh and unrelenting, lingered at the edges of your consciousness, reminding you of the chasm that still separated you. The pain, the betrayal, the loss—they were all still there, lurking in the shadows.

Joel's hand lingered on your cheek, his touch a gentle reminder of what you had once had, and what you had lost. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, even as your heart ached with the knowledge that it could never truly be the same.

Joel leaned in; his intentions clear in the way his eyes searched yours. But as his lips neared yours, you instinctively moved your head, redirecting his kiss to your cheek. His lips lingered there for a few seconds, warm and soft against your skin, a hesitant caress that spoke of longing and regret.

The unexpected intimacy of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and for those few lingering seconds, you let yourself feel the connection, the love that still lingered between you despite everything that had happened.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

You looked at him, your own emotions a tangled mess. "I don't want to lose you either," you admitted, your voice trembling.

"Hey," Ellie said, her voice breaking the fragile silence. "Am I interrupting something?"

Joel pulled back slightly, his expression shifting from the raw vulnerability he'd shown to a more guarded demeanor. "No, Ellie," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "We were just talking."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Talking, huh? It looked like more than just talking."

You stood up, brushing away the remnants of tears from your cheeks. "It's okay, Ellie," you said, trying to sound reassuring. "We were just... sorting things out."

Ellie crossed her arms, her gaze still flicking between the two of you. "Well, whatever. I just came out to get some fresh air. That party is too loud."

Joel gave her a small, understanding nod. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "Sometimes you need a break from all the noise."

Ellie looked at you, her expression softening slightly. "Are you okay?" she asked, her concern evident.

You managed a small smile, though it felt strained. "I'm getting there," you replied. "One step at a time."

Ellie nodded, seeming to accept your answer. “Can I talk to Joel?” she asked, looking for an answer

As you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The tension between Ellie and Joel was palpable, and you couldn't help but worry about what their conversation might entail.

The knock on your door startled you awake, pulling you from the restless sleep that had plagued you for hours. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stumbled to the door, heart pounding with uncertainty.

When you opened it, Joel stood on the other side, his expression hesitant yet hopeful. His presence filled the doorway, casting a shadow over the threshold.

"Joel," you said, your voice a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

"Hey," he murmured, his gaze searching yours. "I... I couldn't sleep. Can we talk?"

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to face him again after everything that had happened. But the sincerity in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself nodding, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel's words trailed off as he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, stirring emotions you had tried to bury deep within.

Before you could protest or pull away, his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing and regret, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

For a moment, you were lost in the sensation of his lips against yours, the familiarity of his touch washing over you like a wave. Memories of happier times flooded your mind, threatening to overwhelm you with their intensity.

But as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended, leaving you breathless and confused. You pulled away, staring at Joel in shock, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

"Joel, what are you doing?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of emotions.

Joel's expression was pained as he stepped back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know what came over me."

You shook your head, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "We can't do this, Joel," you said firmly, though your heart ached at the words.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with regret. "I just... I needed to see you. To talk to you. To try to make things right."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It's too late for that," you said softly, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Joel nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I just had this feeling and I couldn’t sleep." Joel met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and resignation. "I just don't know if I can do this without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart clenched at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice stirring something deep within you. But you knew that giving in to him now would only lead to more heartache in the long run.

"I need space, Joel," you said, your voice firm but gentle. “Go to sleep, please”

Joel nodded, his shoulders slumping further in defeat. “Have a good night, and happy new year” he said, smiling.

“Happy new year.”

As the next day progressed,

you went about your tasks, trying to focus on the bustling activity in Jackson. The town seemed livelier than usual, with people coming and going, laughter filling the air. But something felt off, a nagging sense of unease that lingered at the edges of your consciousness.

Hours passed, and you realized you hadn't seen Joel, Tommy, or Ellie all day. At first, you brushed it off, thinking they might be busy with their own tasks or simply taking some time for themselves. But as the day wore on and the sun began to dip below the horizon, that nagging feeling grew stronger.

You tried to push aside your growing unease, focusing on your tasks with renewed determination. But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

Finally, unable to ignore your instincts any longer, you set out to find out what had happened to Joel, Tommy, and Ellie. You searched the town, asking anyone you came across if they had seen them, but no one had any answers.

As the evening wore on and darkness descended upon Jackson, your anxiety reached a fever pitch. The streets grew quiet, the bustling activity of earlier replaced by an eerie stillness. And still, there was no sign of Joel, Tommy, or Ellie.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that something had gone terribly wrong.

As you approached Ellie, Dina, Tommy, and the rest of the group, the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. Ellie was hurt, her face twisted with grief and anguish, while Dina followed closely behind, offering what comfort she could. Tommy and the others looked devastated, but it was Tommy's expression that caught your attention. When his eyes met yours, he broke down, the weight of his grief too much to bear.

"Ellie? What's wrong?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"He's..." Ellie began, her voice choked with emotion.

"Tommy?" you turned to him, hoping for some clarity.

"Joel died," Tommy finally managed to say, his voice breaking with the weight of his words.

Your heart stopped, the world around you fading into a blur as the reality of his words sank in. Joel, the man you had loved and lost so many times over, was gone. The ghost of your Joel had died, and now you had lost him physically as well.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to process the enormity of the loss. Joel, who had been a constant presence in your life, was gone, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

You reached out to Ellie, offering whatever comfort you could, but inside, you felt as though a part of you had died along with Joel.

Joel was gone, and with him, a piece of your heart had died too.

You stood in Joel's house, surrounded by the remnants of his life. Every corner held a memory, every object a reminder of the man he had been. It was both comforting and agonizing, a bittersweet symphony of grief and love.

With trembling hands, you began to search through his belongings, desperate to find something that would make you feel less worse, if only for a moment. You opened drawers and cabinets, sifted through papers and trinkets, but nothing seemed to ease the ache in your heart.

when you stepped inside his bedroom, his presence hit you like a wave, so inoffensive yet so violent, strong, with the force to make you fall on your bum and being trapped by its force.

You felt a lump, the air in your lungs hot stuck and you couldn't help but gasp. You sat on the unmade bed, looking around, caressing the sheets as if him would step for his door and say sorry for what he did.

The room smelled like him, a wooed incandescent essence you would never forget.

When you lifted your eyes to the bed table, there were two frames. A picture of him and Sarah, and your heart stopped for a moment, thinking they were together now. The second held a photo of the two of you, taken on your wedding day, your smiles bright and hopeful.

Tears filled your eyes as you gazed at the images, the pain of loss washing over you anew.

You turned to see Tommy standing in the doorway, his expression mirroring your own somber sadness.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with understanding. "I thought I'd find you here."

You nodded, unable to speak as the weight of grief pressed down on you.

Tommy stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. "It's hard to believe he's gone," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, trying to keep his composure.

You swallowed hard, blinking back tears as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your loss. "Yeah," you managed, your voice hoarse with emotion. "It doesn't feel real."

Tommy wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer as you wept. His shoulder was a sturdy anchor, absorbing the weight of your sorrow.

"I know it feels like that," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the truth. "I just... I can't shake this feeling that I could have done something differently," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion.

Tommy gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You did everything you could," he said firmly. "Don't blame yourself for his mistakes."

You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his words. In that moment, you knew that no matter how much you mourned Joel's loss, you would always have Tommy by your side, a beacon of light in the darkness of your grief.

"you're the only one left I have from that life"

"You're mine." He smiled as his eyes glistened "you're my sister and the best one Joel brought home'

You chuckled, trying not to break down into pieces in front of him. "I-he was the love of my life'

Tommy's expression softened, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I know," he said gently, his voice carrying the weight of shared loss.

All the memories you once braid alongside with Joel, engulfed in fire.

With Tommy's comforting presence beside you, you found the courage to speak the words that had been weighing heavily on your heart.

"It takes a lot of strength to do this, but... I forgive you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, as your gaze to the photograph of Joel, his image frozen in time, a reminder of the man you had loved and lost. The ache in your chest persisted, but alongside it was a sense of release, a small flicker of peace amidst the storm of emotions.

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the bustling suburban neighborhood. Children playing in the streets, and the sound of cars and laughing filled the air.

As you walk down the sidewalk, you see a house that you recognize instantly. The house you and Joel shared, the place where so many memories were made. Your heart aches with a longing so intense it nearly takes your breath away.

Pushing open the front door, you step inside and are greeted by the comforting vanilla smell of home. You hear voices coming from the kitchen and follow the sound, your steps quickened with anticipation.

When you reached the kitchen, you saw Joel standing at the stove, cooking breakfast with a smile on his face. He looked younger, his hair missed the grey you got used to, and Sarah was sitting at the table, her eyes sparkling with joy as she was talking with Joel. The sight of them together, so alive and happy, brought tears to your eyes.

Joel looked up and saw you standing in the doorway. "Hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with warmth and love. "You're just in time for breakfast."

Sarah turns in her chair and grins at you. "Morning, Mom! Dad's making our favorite pancakes!"

The flood of emotions was overwhelming you couldn’t even breath. You took a step forward, tears streaming down your face as you struggle to find your voice. "Joel, Sarah," you whisper, your voice trembling.

Joel's smile faded the minute he saw the tears in your eyes. He stepped away from the stove and came to you, concern etched across his features. "What's wrong, honey?" he asks, his hands gently cupping your face. "Why are you crying?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You reached out and pull both Joel and Sarah into a tight embrace, holding them as if they might disappear at any moment. "I missed you so much," you sob, your heart breaking with the realization that this moment, as perfect as it is, can't last.

Joel looked at you, his brow furrowed with worry. "Missed us? What are you talking about? We're right here."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, trying to memorize every detail of his face. "I know," you whispered.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your waist, her voice soft and soothing. "It's okay, Mom. We're here now."

+++

a/n: I know that you possibly waited for another ending, but my mind ended up in different places. So, just to clarify I could never forgive the words or actions Joel did in this story but since the story was tragic, I tried to portray what it was like for them to navigate a world that went into pieces after the outbreak and how they lost themselves in it, how the reader despise what he did but still had that love for him in her because sometimes, evern when we get hurt by someone we may have a bad habit to reach out that person, and finally, I thought the dream was a tragic way to end the story, with the reader having her moment with the Joel and Sarah since she knew that she and the Joel she was in love with died that night too. However, he would end up dead from beginning so, sorry. I also added the new year eve party because you know how the spirits are during those days, like the hope and renewal that joel was waiting for but the reader no. I don't know if I did a good job, but still, bye, thanks for coming here 💌

I tagged everyone who asked for part ii and some who read part one, sorry if I forgot someone, or if you want to be removed, you can tell me.

tags: @immyowndefender @persephone-girl @elliaze @ninasully @whirlwindrider29 @missladym1981 @negansbestie @hobiebrowns-wife @zpandaqueen @ilovetaquitosmmmm @midnightbabylon @southernbe @joeldjarin @hiroikegawa @nothingbutaspeckofdust

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phas3d · 10 months ago

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Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: body image, insecurities

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY (enemies)

He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon

Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you

As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands

"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands

Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment

Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding

One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"

But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him

Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt

What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today

How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)

As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran

The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way

Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!

He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes

Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to

TOM RIDDLE (friends)

You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends

In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not

He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning

You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes

As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it

All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?

Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books

"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"

"Never heard of him."

"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"

Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way

But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further

When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M

For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)

He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them

Actually... he might do that,

But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal

In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,

But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you

Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already

But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth

MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)

Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to

So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested

He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more

But for some reason, you two couldn't line up

So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation

He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table

You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"

(inspo by my queen brittany broski)

Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward

So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior

He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs

Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much

And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level

He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is

But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time

He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world

Because he knows he's hot

THEODORE NOTT (classmates)

Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet

He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying

So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look

He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table

"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"

Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious

As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles

He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age

Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that

He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much

It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?

Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him

He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive

But this was a fully grown man...

Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day

But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you

And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)

Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing

He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way

But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was

And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him

You were basically drooling all over your phone

"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"

Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all

On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off

As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much

He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color

Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo

He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart

Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work

Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you

thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo x reader

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purple-babygirl · 7 months ago

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in the far corner of the forest V

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 7,790 (you love me)

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: 18+ content, mentions of bruised skin, idiots in love, feels, a little crying, a little angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (don't do that), multiple orgasms. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part so far and no condolences to the jealous (iykyk) i love and appreciate you guys with my whole heart. also i suck at smut so please pretend to be aroused as you wait for the next part, thank you. please enjoy xx💜💜

She wiped her tears away, remembering Bucky’s words as she tried to calm down.

She bit her lip as her chest tightened at the pain she had heard in his voice, deeply regretting her part of the fight.

Did he really think she thought he was without feelings?

She might have seen him as a monster before, but that was in the very beginning when she didn’t know him at all, and she soon came to realize that she was wrong. Very wrong.

Her orc wasn’t a monster by any means. Not even close. If anything, it was the complete opposite. She saw him as a resilient soldier and admired the way he never lost the good things about him at war. To her, Bucky was a warrior; a hero.

Human or not, of course she treasured and cared about his feelings!

Bucky took care of her, brought her gifts without her ever asking, made her feel seen and heard and most of all liked. Loved even. He made her feel like she was some awesome friend worth laughing with and talking to.

She wanted to make sure that she made him feel the same way too. She couldn’t let him continue to believe the words he had said to her.

She opened the door of the cottage and looked outside, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. She sighed, shutting the door again and pressing her back to it as she thought about her next steps.

Life with Bucky was what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that truth.

She fetched the cloth she had tossed away before moving back to the kitchen.

She had only known real happiness alongside Bucky and she was going to let him know that. She was going to whip the cream for that cake even if they had to do without berries.

She was almost done smoothing the whipped cream over the cake when she heard the door to the cottage open and close.

She quickly rinsed her hands, ready to go out and make things right.

When she stepped out of the kitchen, however, she was met by the most endearing view she could have ever been met with and it rendered her speechless.

Her large snow orc was standing before her with a blush on his cheeks and a tiny fruit basket between his giant arms.

It was full of mixed berries.

She couldn’t hide her happy surprise as she stared at the sight before her, her mouth opening and closing a few times.

“Bucky?” She finally whispered his name, breaking the silence, her voice soft and laced with love.

Damn, that orc could steal hearts.

“I— uhh— borrowed the basket from Sarah,” Bucky muttered, pushing the basket forward for her to take as he avoided eye contact.

He really sucked at this and he knew it, but he was trying. He desperately wanted to make everything better. He knew he couldn’t take the yelling or the bruising back, but he badly needed to fix what he had so stupidly ruined, and the berries were his best bet.

She appreciatively took the basket out of his hand, hugging it to her chest.

“I’m sorry if they’re not as good as the ones you picked. It’s— it’s my first time uhm— picking berries,” Bucky admitted lowly, gesturing with his hands as his eyes wandered anywhere but on her, afraid of meeting her eyes and finding them disappointed or fearful still.

It was true. It was his first time doing any of this. Bucky was a rough orc. He did hunting, not foraging.

“They’re perfect,” she replied without even looking at the fruits, the gesture itself enough for her as she realized that under all this beef, her orc had hid a heart of gold and a softness to die for.

Bucky only nodded awkwardly, still unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t know how to act or what to say.

He was a soldier. He used to give orders and expect results, he didn’t do apologies or pluck raspberries as gently as possible in order not to squish them between his huge fingers.

She silently took the basket to the kitchen, a smile covering her face as her heart jumped.

Bucky walked in after her, leaning on the door frame and watching as she emptied the berries in a bowl and washed them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their earlier argument hanging heavy in the air.

“How’s your arm?” Bucky asked softly, swallowing in the fear of having left some serious damage on her.

Her smile faltered for a second when she remembered the way he had so harshly grabbed and held her, “it’s gonna be okay. Just a tiny bruise.” She reassured still, not wanting him to feel bad anymore.

Bucky’s fingers trembled as he ran a rough hand through his unkempt hair, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I really am sorry, little human.” Bucky sincerely apologized again.

Before she could reply, he stepped closer, taking hold of her hand before lowering his lips to her forearm.

The feeling of Bucky’s tusks ever so softly digging into her skin as Bucky left tender kisses all over the abused area made her shiver.

“I’m sorry; I’m a fool,” Bucky said into her skin as he pressed another kiss, “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” He pressed one final kiss before letting her arm go, “I will never doubt you again, sweet thing. Please forgive me.”

He stood there with the bluest puppy eyes, silently begging for her clemency as his hands hugged hers.

“I forgive you, Bucky.” She nodded with a shy smile, her own guilt gnawing at her insides as the fire that had rose on her skin in the wake of Bucky’s lips dissipated.

“It scared me when I came home and didn’t find you. I— I thought you were leaving me again.” He confessed lowly, “I didn’t know what to think.”

“I know. I should’ve at least left a note,” she thought out loud, her head down in regret, “I thought I would be home before you arrived so I didn’t feel the need to write one. I’m sorry, Bucky.” She gave his hand a desperate squeeze, “I really didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was running away.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky smiled softly, regretting how poorly he had reacted as he brought her hand to his lips.

She was amazing. His night’s firefly.

“I don’t think of you as someone who doesn’t have feelings, Bucky,” she blurted out, her voice quivering with sincerity. “The kindness you show me... it's unlike anything I've ever known from humans. It's genuine, and real, and it's the reason I wanna be with you.”

Bucky listened in silence, an appreciative smile breaking on his handsome face.

“I care about you, Bucky, and I respect your feelings more than you know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to keep you when you didn’t want to stay, but it still hurt every time you left,” Bucky finally voiced his thoughts, sharing a part of his feelings and fears with her.

“Who—” She stopped to clear her throat, “who said I don’t wanna stay?”

“So you wanna be here for good? With me?” Bucky’s eyes lit up with hope as he intently watched her.

“Well, I made a cake, didn’t I?” She wouldn’t let her eyes meet his as she placed the berries on top of the smooth cake, her heart drumming in her chest.

“Let me hear it, sweet thing,” Bucky begged, unable to believe what he was hearing from her despite everything that has happened.

“I thought I’ve said it before,” she tried to tease, “and I’m wearing your ring, Bucky,” she chuckled shyly, her face hot.

Bucky kept waiting, wordlessly pleading her to tell him the words he so badly needed to hear.

She looked at him and saw passion drawn all over his face and she could only imagine she looked the same.

“I… wanna be here… with you, Bucky, for good,” she said before biting her lip, her own admittance sending a shudder down the back of her hot neck.

The simple sentence hit Bucky like a warm cup of cocoa on a stormy evening as he smiled.

He grabbed her hand and gave the palm of it a long kiss, getting berry residue on his cheek.

Thankfully, she didn’t take her hand away, giggling softly as her orc got his skin stained.

She smiled timidly when he pulled away, wiping his cheek clean with her other thumb.

“I know I haven’t made it easy for you, Bucky, but you’ve got to trust me. I don’t wanna leave you, not now, not ever.”

Bucky nodded, his heart soaring at the reassurance, “I trust you, little human.”

“Let’s eat our cake?” She asked, biting her lip.

Our. It was the first time she has ever used that word.

Bucky nodded with a grateful smile of his own, carefully carrying the cake out to the table outside.

She grabbed plates, forks and a knife and followed him.

Her heart was beating like crazy, yet it was the most relieved it had ever been now that they have made up.

She handed Bucky the knife and he cut through the cake.

She took the chance that he was busy and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering against his warm skin for a fleeting moment, “welcome home”.

Bucky could feel his chest burning up with the love it held for her.

For years, he had believed himself unworthy of love, of kindness, of anything resembling happiness. But in that short second with her lips on his cheek, he felt a twinkle of hope ignite within him, dispersing the darkness that had cloaked his heart for years.

The commotion that happened earlier had made him forget all about his kiss, but she didn’t.

She kissed him and with a smile too.

Bucky was love-sick, her gentle features stirring unparalleled emotions inside of him, softening his rough edges without even trying.

With a hesitant hand, he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth skin in a silent promise of devotion. And as she leaned into his touch, cupping his hand with her tiny one, Bucky took an oath to cherish her, to protect her, and to love her with every fiber of his being for as long as he lived.

“Is there anyone around left from your tribe that I can meet?” She asked after Bucky had filled their plates with cake, interested to know more about her husband’s life as she handed him his fork.

She couldn’t help her curiosity anymore. She cared about Bucky and she needed to know why he was out here on his own. Where was his clan? Did he even have one? Do they know about her?

“No, just the two very close human friends,” Bucky sighed his answer before slipping a raspberry in his mouth, his thoughts running to his clan; the clan that had rejected and abandoned him years ago.

Okay, but where were the orcs? Now she was more curious and confused.

“What about your family?”

“You’re my family,” Bucky answered without hesitancy and she felt her heart flood with love as she speechlessly stared at his face.

“Where did you see me?” She wondered aloud, her tone hushed as she ached to know how and when he got to choose her.

“At the orphanage,” he started, a smile already spreading on his face as he recalled the memory, “me and Sam were delivering chairs and a few beds for the new rooms they had built.”

She listened, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She was part of the group that was instructed to clean the new building.

“I had just taken a bed down from the truck when I felt something drop on my head and before I knew it, it was raining. I was wiping the raindrops off my forehead.” Bucky’s fork played around with the berries on his plate before he looked up and into her eyes, “and I let my arm down and there you were, breathtaking as a daydream, laughing with another girl as you both ran inside before the rain could catch you.”

“How did I not see you?” She whispered, eyes welling up at the adoration she could see in his gaze.

“You were too busy being scared of the rain,” Bucky teased, “but I saw you.” Bucky’s thumb stroke drown her cheek, “I saw you and I knew I just had to see you again.”

“So that was when you asked the manager if I could be your wife?” She bit her lip, the thought now flattering to her rather than appalling as it used to be.

“No, that was when I intentionally slammed a chair down on the concrete and broke it to pieces so we could be one chair short and I could come again and hopefully sneak another peek at you.” Bucky laughed, remembering Sam’s reaction as he watched the chair he had so carefully put together get smashed down, “Sam wasn’t so happy about me destroying his work”.

“Oh my gods,” she laughed with him, feeling bad for poor Sam.

“Yeah, he didn’t believe me when I said I dropped it, swore he wasn’t coming with me that next time and everything. It was a whole thing.” Bucky shook his head as his laughter faded into a soft smile.

“Can’t blame him.” She shrugged with a grin.

“He was fine.” Bucky waved his hand in the air, “I honestly only cared that I’d secured myself a chance to come back.” He admitted unapologetically.

“And did you see me when you came back?” She asked, her elbow on the table and her cheek resting on her hand, cake long forgotten.

“Yeah, I had to sneak to the back to see you, but I did. You were even more beautiful that day,” Bucky told her, making her blush under his affectionate gaze, “you had a messy flower crown on top of your head and you were taking laundry down from the clothesline. You were so focused as you tried to pull the clothes down without getting on your tiptoes,” he chuckled, recalling how cute she was as she struggled to reach the peg clips.

“Hey! They hung that clothesline way too high! No one could reach it!” She shook her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure they couldn’t,” Bucky teased, laughing at her defensive reply.

“They couldn’t, I swear! Not just me!”

“I believe you,” Bucky said with a provocative smile.

“You’re annoying.” She pouted, digging her fork in her cake slice.

“Nah, you’re just too little, little human.” Bucky teased again and she couldn’t help her smile.

It was all making sense now as she admired his gorgeous grin: the yearning for Bucky’s touch when he wasn’t there, the longing for his presence that had replaced her previous fear or repulsion, and the way she so desperately looked forward to the weekends so they could hold hands as they walked and talked could only mean one thing.

She was in love. She was in love with Bucky and she didn’t want to run from that feeling.

“I— I think I’m in love with you,” she admitted in a tiny whisper.

A smile lit Bucky’s face up before he gave her forehead a long kiss, trying to convey his adoration for her as he held her close to him, “I know I’m in love with you, little human.” He sighed in her hair.

He couldn’t believe she said it and he couldn’t believe she said it first. He couldn’t believe how far they have come and how beautiful life could be.

But he knew now and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Bucky finally had someone who loved him and cared about him; someone he could trust and surrender his heart to.

She stood on her tiptoes, making him chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him so close that he could feel her heartbeat.

“They renounced me a long time ago,” Bucky whispered in her hair, feeling brave enough to open up to her about his past.

Her heart sank at the gut-wrenching piece of information.

“What?” She pulled away in shock, “why?”

Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of a clan having Bucky and willingly letting him go.

“My mother was a human; wanted to name me James, but she died during my birth, heart condition,” he started, closing his eyes to stop his tears from forming, “they eventually did name me James, but I think I never liked it. My grandma gave me the name Bucky, from my middle name ‘Buchanan’. She was the one who raised me because me and my father weren’t close. He could never forgive me for taking my mother away from him, I guess.” Bucky shrugged, swallowing his emotions.

She listened silently, her own tears brimming. What kind of father does that? Bucky had already lost his mother and instead of being there for him, his father made him lose him too?!

“Before I knew it, I’m a teenager and my father had passed away and my grandma before him… I had no one left and my cousins weren’t about to let the half-orc with the human mother become chief.” Bucky sighed as he recalled the events of his youth.

She stayed in his arms, hands on his chest as she listened closely, her heart breaking at the expression on her orc’s face.

“And when I started ‘working with the humans’, they found the perfect reason to kick me out of the clan for good.” He finished with a sad smile, shaking his head as if to shake the memories away.

“That was when you started fighting for the kingdom?” She asked, softly running the back of her fingers down Bucky’s cheek as a tear rolled down her own.

“Had nowhere else to go.” Bucky shrugged with a teary smile, trying to pull himself together.

“But that was where you met Sam, right?” She reminded with a tender smile, her thumb tracing his stubbly chin.

Bucky nodded with a chuckle, “yeah, used to drive me crazy at first, but he was a good soldier; an even better friend.”

“And then you opened your shop.” She tilted her head, her fingers catching the tips of Bucky’s soft hair by his shoulder.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, reminiscing at how things have turned out.

“And you started making beautiful furniture that you needed to deliver to the orphanage, where you saw me.” She grinned fondly, a fingertip tracing the orc’s nose.

“Yes.” Bucky sighed, his love pouring out of his dewy eyes as he enjoyed the light touches.

“And now I’m here with you, in our home,” she brought both palms to Bucky’s cheeks, “and I will never leave you, Bucky,” she told him seriously before getting on her tiptoes to hug him again, “I’m your family and you’re mine.” She whispered into his neck.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered into her shoulder, his arm squeezing her to him as if he wanted to meld himself to her.

“Copycat,” she joked, instantly feeling her orcs chest vibrate with a chuckle, “I love you too, Bucky.”

With her in his arms, hers wrapped around him as tight as she could, Bucky could then understand the meaning of safety, of love and family.

And she finally came to realize that she and Bucky weren’t all that different after all. They had both been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to have their backs before and more than anyone. But they have got each other now. She wasn’t going to let Bucky go and she trusted him not to let her go either.

As she leaned in to give Bucky his goodnight kiss that night, a different thought occupied her mind.

Sitting up against the pillows, she crossed her legs, her heart pounding with anticipation as Bucky looked at her with a quizzical tilt of his head.

She slowly got closer to his face, locking eyes with him to gain more courage, but it only made her more nervous.

She took a deep breath and when she pressed her lips, she pressed them to her orc’s mouth instead of his cheek, ever so tentatively getting a much needed taste of his full lips. They were so soft, so perfect.

She had no idea if she was doing this right, but she didn’t care.

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if he was dreaming.

She pulled away after a short second, scared that she might have crossed a line, “I’m sorry. Do orcs not do that—”

Before she could apologize or question her actions further, Bucky silenced her with a kiss of his own, swiftly bringing her down to lay on her back as he hovered over her, his kisses eager and desperate as he tried his best to watch his tusks.

“I don’t care what orcs do. We’re doing it,” he mumbled against her sweet lips.

Bucky allowed her one loud laugh before devouring her lips again, stealing her heart and breath with another tender, yet deep kiss.

In that very moment, time seemed to stand still for Bucky. All he could feel was the warmth of her cheek against his palm, all he could taste was the sweetness of her lips mingled with the faint flavor of berries, and he never wanted it to end.

As she allowed his tongue to gently explore her mouth, a promise of eternity passed between them in a moan, sealing their bond with a promise of a lifetime of love and devotion.

She has never had a real friendship. Rarely had anything to say. She would rather stay silent if she thought she didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. She was always afraid that others might find her boring, and was even more afraid that that may be her truth. So she always hid. She hid from others, from herself and her feelings. She hid from problems and fights. She hid from anything that could get her hurt.

But with Bucky it was different.

She didn’t have to hide anymore, didn’t have to be scared because in Bucky she had everything. She had a true friend, a loyal lover and a great husband.

And as she let herself drown in the feeling of his lips, she couldn’t be more grateful for the gods above for drawing her fate exactly how it was.

It felt so good to belong to Bucky and she could all but want more.

She let her instincts run wild, her body hot with need as she hesitantly slipped her hands under Bucky’s sweater, eager to feel his scarred skin under her fingers.

Bucky pulled away from her lips to look her in the eyes, his breath stuttering at her tender touch, “what are you doing, sweet thing?”

“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” She hurriedly tried to pull her hands out of his clothes, but Bucky was faster as he sat back and held his hands on top of hers, keeping them inside his sweater, right on his ribs.

“I’m your husband,” Bucky reminded with a sweet smile.

“I know— I just— I’ve never—” She struggled with her words as heat rose to her face, “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable… but I think I wanna do this.” She confessed shyly, her indexes caressing up and down his abdomen.

“This this?” Bucky tilted his head suggestively, already feeling his cock jump at the thought alone.

“This this.” She smiled, biting her lip shyly as she gave a nod.

“Little human, you better not be playing right now.” Bucky warned, his eyes growing the slightest bit darker.

“I’m not—”

“Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop myself, sweet thing.”

“Then don’t.”

Her newfound courage took over as she brought Bucky back to her with her hands tangled in his pullover.

Bucky kissed her with fervor, savoring the angelic sounds she was making as his tongue tasted hers.

He carefully ran a large hand up her hip, exploring as his lips trailed down her cheek and to her neck.

He could feel her pulse again and was about to stop, déjà vu from their wedding night attacking him, but then she said his name in the softest, sexiest and neediest tone as she squirmed underneath him, his covered cock fitting just right between her legs.

Bucky could all but put his lips back on her, his tusks grazing the sensitive skin as he nibbled on it.

“Can I see you?” He breathed, his eyes on hers as his fingers found way under the skirt of her dress.

She nodded, her face and neck flushed as she sat up and gave the orc her back.

Bucky wasted no time working the zipper down, revealing the back of her bralette to his hungry eyes.

She twisted herself back, seeking Bucky’s blue orbs for reassurance as she pushed her dress down her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw Bucky literally lick his lips at the sight of her.

It felt like it was the first time Bucky was seeing her naked to both of them.

He saw her hesitate with pushing the dress down further and so with a smile, Bucky pulled his own pullover up and off his head, “I got you.” He promised.

She bit her lower lip, pushing the dress down her thighs.

Bucky pulled the piece of clothing all the way down, throwing it behind his back with his discarded sweater. He kept his calloused palms on her shins, caressing the smooth skin while he watched her hands go behind her back to unhook her bralette.

She let it fall from her body, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths as she watched Bucky’s gaze switch from admiration to sheer desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, gently bringing her on her back, taking the bralette all the way down her arms as he pressed his mouth to hers again.

Bucky’s lips traced down the hot skin of her throat in open-mouthed kisses, moving to her collarbones, “can I touch you, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” She nodded and goosebumps instantly rose on her skin as Bucky’s palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her hardening nipples.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her back involuntarily curving as she pushed herself further into her orc’s touch.

“Oh, you sensitive on here, little human?” Bucky asked, biting back his smirk as his calloused flesh thumb rubbed over her nipple again, “’s my touch making your little nipples hard?”

“Bucky,” she whined at the dirty talk, her hands coming up to cover her hot face in embarrassment.

“Hey.” Bucky gently took her hands away from her face, “don’t hide from me, sweet thing. I love that your body is reacting to me.”

Before she could whine again, her husband was bringing her right hand down and between his legs, pressing her open palm to his hard cock, “this is my body reacting to you, my love.”

She gasped, the feeling foreign to her as she felt how big and hard Bucky was.

“This is what you do to me, little human.” Bucky wrapped her smaller hand around his clothed cock, giving himself a squeeze, making wetness pool in her panties at the sound that left him afterwards.

Knowing that she wasn’t the only one whose body was on fire, made her the tiniest bit more confident and she found herself giving Bucky’s cock another squeeze, making his head drop to her shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, you tryna kill me, sweet thing?” Bucky breathed a chuckle on her neck.

“Did— did I hurt you?” She asked insecurely, wanting to remove her hand and bury herself under the bed.

“Gods, you’re an angel.” Bucky shook his head and she didn’t understand until he said, “you have no idea how much your touch drives me mad, do you?”

She shook her head innocently and Bucky only smiled, moving his mouth to her chest, his tusks softly grazing everywhere his lips went.

“It’s something like this.”

“Ohhhh, Bucky!” She arched her back again as her orc wrapped one of her nipples in his lips, softly suckling at the tender nub, making her hand give a tighter pump to his cock.

She really was sensitive there.

Bucky groaned, moving to her other nipple, the vibration driving her crazy, making her squirm harder as her hand massaged around his cock, sliding up his back to unconsciously wrap in his long hair as she pushed her breast into his mouth.

She could feel herself clenching like crazy down there, her whole body aflame with lust from all the new sensations Bucky was introducing her to.

The way the tip of his tongue flicked against her nipples made her crave more.

Bucky’s kisses trailed down her ribs to her abdomen, worshipping every inch until they settled on top of her pubic bone, dark blue eyes looking up at her for permission to go further.

She nodded, aching for her orc’s touch to provide any kind of relief.

A little nervous about not finding her wet once again, Bucky moved closer to her center.

Bucky let his lips kiss her on top of her underwear first, inhaling the saturated fabric as he pressed a long kiss to her clothed core. He swallowed hard, her scent filling his nostrils and making him dizzy with desire.

She smelled so good.

“Bucky, please,” she pleaded before she could stop herself, desperate for him to do anything to help the throbbing between her legs.

“I got you, sweet thing,” Bucky told her again, quickly pushing the tiny underwear down her legs and getting himself comfortable between her legs.

He took a second to look at her, all naked and all his, writhing from and for his touch and his touch alone.

“Wh— what are you gonna do?” She asked uncertainly, not really getting why Bucky was bringing himself lower between her open thighs, eye to eye with her pussy, the position making her cheeks burn up.

“I’m gonna get a taste, little human. Would you let me? Can I get a taste of you, sweet thing?” Bucky asked as he pressed loving kisses to the delicate flesh of her inner thigh.

“You’re… gonna put your mouth there?” She whispered her question shyly, the thought making her want to close her legs and hide.

Bucky just smiled lovingly at her innocence; his untouched, pure little human, “if you let me.”

“Is it gonna feel good?” She asked curiously.

Bucky nodded, relieved she wasn’t scared of his tusks coming close to where she was the most sensitive, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Y—yes. Okay.” She nodded, swallowing her nervousness as she laid her head back.

Bucky knew what he was doing and she trusted him to take care of her.

Her permission was all Bucky needed to put his mouth on her, pressing a longing kiss to her lower lips, glad to find her soaking wet, making her gasp above him. The feeling of his blunt tusks framing her pussy set her heart racing.

He then locked eyes with her as he let his tongue out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up from her dripping hole to her pulsing clit before wrapping his full lips around it and she couldn’t help the tiny squeal that escaped her as her head fell back on the pillow, her hips pushing down against him

Bucky smirked on her heat before moaning himself. She tasted so good, better than anything he has ever put his mouth on.

He had fucked humans before and he knew exactly what to do, but she was different. Every breath she released, every moan, was making Bucky wild with desire. He has never cared about making someone feel good as he did in that moment with her thighs around his head.

Her delicate hands flew to her orc’s hair and she tugged hard, losing herself in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on her pussy as she arched her back and pushed herself closer to his lips. Her orc’s touch was reducing her to a moaning, babbling mess in mere seconds.

Bucky decided to test the waters a little, slipping his tongue inside her hole a few times, tasting her sweetness from the source before bringing his flesh finger between her legs. He gently prodded the tip of his thick finger at her entrance, feeling her tense above him with a gasp.

“It’s okay, sweet thing, I got you. Just relax for me.” He reassured and she tried her best to relax her muscles, allowing Bucky to ease the tip of his finger insider of her.

Fuck, she was so tight; the tightest he has ever felt and it made him rut into the mattress when he thought about how tight she was going to feel around his cock.

Her mouth hung open as Bucky worked the thick digit into her pussy knuckle by knuckle, his lips sucking on her clit.

“I gotta open you up for my cock, little human.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her, smirking when she whined, getting wetter on his finger.

Bucky started moving his finger in and out of her, his movements slow and deep as he tried to explore as much of her as his finger would go.

Her body was feverish with arousal and her mind was drunk on the feeling of being filled for the first time in her life as sighs and whimpers slipped from her lips without her permission.

It was just one finger pushing in and out of her cunt and she was feeling full already, clenching hard with her juices drenching her thighs and the sheets. She clenched harder around Bucky’s thick finger at the thought of how big his cock would feel and how full it would make her feel, the way he was suckling on her clit making a knot tighten in her lower stomach.

She has never felt anything like this before and was starting to panic at the sensation spreading from her pussy to the rest of her.

“Bucky, I— I feel weird,” she whined, yet ground harder on her orc’s thick finger.

“Are you in pain, little human?” Bucky asked worriedly, taking his touch and mouth away from her at once.

“No, no, no, why would you stop?” She whined louder, her glossy eyes opening and pleading him to give her her pleasure back.

“Oh.” Bucky smirked when he looked from her eyes to her pussy and saw her clamp around nothing, “oh, sweet thing, you were gonna cum?” He asked lowly, his index rubbing up and down her sopping hole without going in.

“I— I don’t know.” She writhed, her hips pushing down as she tried to take Bucky’s finger back inside her, “Bucky, please.” She begged despite not really knowing what she was begging for.

But Bucky knew. He knew and he was going to give it to her.

“I got you,” Bucky said as he pushed his finger back into her pussy with ease, “you think you can take another one, little human?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her answer breathy and desperate as she automatically opened her thighs wider.

“Gods, you’re perfect. So good for me, sweet thing.” Bucky took his index out before coupling it with his middle and pushing both fingers into her, stretching her once more.

She whimpered at the careful intrusion, her hand bringing Bucky’s face to her pulsing clit, making him smirk proudly at how needy she was being for him.

If she thought she felt full before, this made her realize she was wrong.

Bucky’s fingers were so thick, so skilled as they massaged and curled against her upper walls, making her squeal when they nudged a specific spot deep inside her.

“Oh, there you go,” Bucky groaned into her clit, knowing exactly what he was doing to her as he kept curling his fingers inside of her, harshly stimulating the spot that was making her thrash.

He could feel her walls contracting harder around his fingers and he wanted to watch as he brought her to her first orgasm ever.

Keeping his eyes on her blissed out face, Bucky replaced his mouth with the heel of his left hand, circling her clit tightly with his cooler palm.

She wailed at the new stimulation, the pressure from Bucky’s hand strong enough to rub both her clit and her lower abdomen.

Her loud whimpers were making Bucky’s cock leak in his pants as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“I got you, sweet thing. Give it to me, my love. Shake on your orc’s fingers.”

Bucky’s words did it for her.

She felt the knot in her tummy tighten once more and before she could tell him about it this time, her toes were curling and her body was trembling as her pussy clenched and pulsated around the orc’s beefy digits.

Bucky watched with an open mouth, his lips shimmering with the remnants of her arousal as he almost finished in his pants like a teenager at the mere sight of her losing it on his fingers, “there you go, my love. Good job, sweet thing.”

He slowed down the curling of his fingers but kept his palm circling her clit, wanting to keep her convulsing for as long as he could before she gently tried pushing his touch off.

“Sensitive,” she panted and Bucky decided to have mercy on her.

She laid down on the bed, her tired body limp despite the ongoing throbbing of her pussy, trying to catch her breath.

A smile automatically formed on her lips as she felt Bucky climb up the bed again, mapping his way up her body in wet kisses.

“Hi,” she whispered, opening her eyes when she felt him kissing the corner of her lips.

“Hi.” Bucky smiled, more than satisfied with himself at the state he had managed to bring her to as he kissed her lips, making her taste herself on his tongue, “did you like that, sweet thing?”

She nodded coyly, “can I… make you feel like that too? With my mouth?” Her face was flushed, heat spreading on her skin as if she hadn’t just come on Bucky’s fingers.

The orc could barely hold his orgasm back at the innocence in her voice as she asked if she could suck his cock in the purest way possible. He wasn’t about to cum untouched during his first time with his human. Get it together dammit.

“Later, sweet thing. Right now, I need to be inside your pussy or I think I might die.”

“Bucky,” she whined shyly, covering her face with her hands.

He laughed at her bashfulness before removing the rest of his clothes, “look at me, little human.” Bucky urged gently, his touch soft as his thumb stroked her lower belly.

She removed her hands, eyes instantly landing on his huge cock as it stood proudly, leaking pearls of pre-cum down his length.

“Are you ready, little human?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure she wanted this.

She remained wordless for a second, taking in Bucky’s cock with an open mouth, wondering if it was going to fit.

“You can say no, sweet thing. We don’t have to do it tonigh—”

“Yes,” she interrupted with a nod, “make me yours, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip, stifling a groan, trying to stop himself from sliding home and pounding her into the mattress.

“I thought you were already mine, little human.” He growled lowly, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her soaking cunt, tapping her clit teasingly just to see her shiver.

“I am. But I wanna be yours like this too.” She mumbled, her eyes mesmerized as she watched Bucky lube his cock up in her wetness, “wanna be yours in every way possible.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky growled before carefully popping the tip of his fat cock inside her aching pussy.

Her breaths were coming out in short pants, cunt already clenching around him and he almost doubled over, his knees weak as pleasure engulfed his senses, “fuck, sweet thing, you’re so tight. Pussy’s tryna kill me.” He moaned, unintentionally making her clench down harder.

She looked like she had already been fucked stupid when Bucky proceeded to push half of his fat cock inside her, letting out tiny mewls and whines as she felt every ridge and vein on her orc’s cock, holding onto his arms for dear life.

“Oh, you feel so good, my love. So wet for me,” Bucky sighed as he kept fucking her with half of his cock, wanting her to get used to the stretch before he could give her all of him, “so tight”.

“Please, Bucky,” she moaned, her heart and pussy simultaneously fluttering at Bucky calling her his love yet again, “I can take it.” She promised, opening her thighs as far as they would go for him.

Bucky could all but snarl hungrily as he leaned forward, burying his face in her soft neck before gradually pushing the rest of his cock inside her tight throbbing cunt inch by inch until he had bottomed out.

He took a second to calm himself down, not wanting to burst so fast. Then he was pulling out just enough for his bulbous tip alone to remain inside of her before sliding back into her cunt, gasping into her neck at the sensation of being totally wrapped up in her snug warmth.

She couldn’t help but cry out at the pleasure as he orc fucked her deeply, reaching places inside of her she never knew existed.

She thought it would take longer for her body to get used to Bucky’s girth, but it was like she was made for him, her pussy effortlessly accepting him every time he pressed back home.

The tip of Bucky’s cock easily found her special spot, ramming into it over and over every time he drove himself back into her heat.

“Oh, Bucky!” She squealed, her back already bowing once more as her vision got blurrier and Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last much longer when her nails dug into his skin again.

His breath was labored when he raised his head, wanting a taste of her lips as his thrusts became faster, more desperate. He swallowed her loud moans, leaving the only sound in the empty cottage to be the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked her faster.

“Bucky, it’s gonna happen again,” she whined and Bucky brought his hand down to her clit at once, wanting to see and feel her crumble on his cock.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fat cock, little human?”

She nodded frantically, her legs wrapping around Bucky’s waist.

“Cum for me, sweet thing. Let me feel your tight little pussy cum on my cock.”

Bucky’s dirty whispers in her ear, his deep thrusts and his frantic rubbing on her sensitive clit were making her lose control; making her lightheaded with desire as she let herself go again, full body tensing before shaking in her orc’s arms.

Bucky could no longer hold back, his guttural growl making her clench hard. He gave a few more thrusts before pushing his cock as deep as it would go inside her quivering pussy, keeping his assault on her clit going to keep her clenching around him. He felt his cock twitch as he emptied his balls inside her. His cock wouldn’t stop throbbing as he filled his little human up with his hot cum.

Before any of them could comprehend it, she was cumming again just at the feeling of Bucky cumming inside of her, making him groan as her walls squeezed his cock, milking him for all that he was worth.

He let himself collapse on top of her for just a minute before feeling the need to pull out because she wouldn’t stop pulsating and shuddering around his sensitive cock.

Bucky didn’t think he had ever cum so hard in his entire life.

A smile spread on his lips as he flipped on his side, watching her chest rise and fall with her slowing breaths.

He trailed a finger up her still slightly trembling thigh, making her open her tired eyes to look at him.

She gave him a sweet smile, biting her lip as she squirmed, timidly closing her thighs and Bucky could see the exact moment she realized that his cum was leaking out of her abused hole, smirking at how bashful she got straightaway.

“Are you okay, little human?” Bucky asked, his finger tracing up her abdomen, around the curve of her breast and up under her chin, keeping her gaze on his.

She nodded, her expression cock-drunk despite the shyness, “when— when can we do that again?”

Her question pulled an astonished laugh out of Bucky as he wrapped a hair strand around his finger, “any time you want, my love.” He brought her forehead to his lips, kissing her adoringly.

Gods, he was so in love that his heart felt like it would burst.

She smiled bigger, satisfied with the answer as she moved closer, settling on her orc’s broad chest and snuggling close to his warmth, “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, sweet thing.” Bucky gave her lips a deep kiss.

“So orcs do do that.” She mumbled with a sleepy smile against his lips, making him laugh into her mouth.

She giggled a little before pushing her nose further into Bucky’s neck, gracefully falling asleep to his scent.

As she laid in his arms, vulnerable and exposed, Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he pulled the heavy blanket up her naked form, holding her closer to him.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her hairline, vowing to always be there for her. She was his, and he was hers, destined together through a love that defied all odds.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, Bucky knew that he had found his home, his safe haven, in the embrace of this one girl who had so easily stolen his heart.

Part VI

Tag list: @harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love @tiedyedghoulette @saint-marvel @helenaellie @onceithough @raynelbabe

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miiyas · 29 days ago

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op the way I'd do anything for a sakusa piece from u 🗣 preferably post-timeskip and maybe established relationship, BUT I'm open for whatever. you just write domesticity so well,,,,,, and sakusa is so habit driven,,, I need to see this pls 🙏

CHANGE IN PERSPECTIVE

you’re helping kiyoomi with his nightly hair routine

wc: 554, post-ts, a little ooc- i’m a little unsure of how to write for omi .., fluff, not proof read

kiyoomi has grown to likes his curls because you like them.

for the longest time, he’s only ever seen them as a a bit of a hassle, hair products mounting on the vanity of his bathroom as he consumes time just to make every curl perfect. he used to dream of how he would look like with hair that reflected the same style as his teammates — pin straight and easy to manage. but recently, he’s been thinking differently.

he’s been thinking differently because you like his curls. you like the way they bounce and shine, you like to watch him do his hair routine every night while you talk his ear off in your matching pajamas as he hums in response, mumbling an ‘oh yeah ?’ and occasional in puts of his own opinion and words.

on the special rare and intimate occasions where he doesn’t have the strength to do his hair after a long day of practice, sakusa melts into your touch as you carefully follow his tired voice and instructions as to how you should twist his hair in your fingers and how much product you should use.

he likes the way your fingers twirl around small strands of hair, making the coil form gently before moving on to a new section. he likes the way you hum out a soft tune, a song he recognizes as one that has been stuck in your head all week. and most importantly, kiyoomi doesn’t mind if you put the products in an unordered fashion on the vanity. the unfamiliar mindset of ‘i can fix it later’ has now grown onto him, cleaning up after your mess.

“hey, omi ?” your voice interrupts his thoughts, hands out of his silky hair. sakusa turns his body half way to see you inspecting a fully squeezed out bottle. “i think i’m gonna have to stop by the konbini tomorrow. this things out.” you hand the bottle over to your boyfriends bigger, more tougher ones. his shoulders slump as he struggles to push out any more product, brows furrowed in annoyance. with a sigh, kiyoomi rubs his tired eyes, revealing his verdict.

“we can cut the tube. where did you put the scissors ?”

you blink for a moment, a little surprised at his proposal. pointing out the bathroom door, you tell him that you’ll get one from the kitchen before taking quiet barefoot steps down the hall.

this is different.

kiyoomi doesn’t like getting his hands messy. he much rather purchase a tube roller to get the extra bits out rather than doing the extra work to dig at the corners of the dissected bottle.

but this is fun, he admits to himself. it’s fun to go through the extra work, to hear your laughter as you struggle to make a clean cut, to see that there’s no space on the small counter of the sink to put the two pieces of the bottle down along with the scissors.

it’s worth the mess, he thinks again. because at the end of the day, he can clean it up before he leaves for practice. he’ll wash the scissors real nice and put them back in the kitchen. he’ll throw out the empty hair product and give you an extra long kiss on the forehead in the morning.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #atlas writes !

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activesplooger · 1 month ago

Text

ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ | ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ | ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 18+

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) ITS DONNEEEE!! omg guys i literallyyyy akjbfkwjefhkbwefk longest fic ever and honestly my favv i had so much fun making this!!! Also, "Papermint" is like the fanon name for Vox's assistant in ep 2

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You got a job working as an assistant for Vox at VoxTech! Though, his behavior is quite strange around you... He's very touchy-feely, a strange thing for the infamous TV demon to do. Oh, well! It's probably nothing (it's not nothing).

ᴄᴡ: obsessive behavior, stalking, yandere, infatuation, voyeurism, smut, body pillows, masturbation, kidnapping, hypnotism

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7,614

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

"M-Miss L/N?" A nervous sinner in a VoxTech uniform steps out of the office you patiently waited outside of for about an hour now. You smile politely at the employee and nod. "Yes?" you respond. "M-Mr. Vox would like to see you now.". "Great, thanks!" You grab your resume off your lap and slowly walk to the office door. Your hand hovers over the knob as you mentally prepare yourself for the interview on the other side of the door. ‘You’ve got this… Deep breaths… Inhale… Exhale…’.

Candidate after candidate had gone in and out of the office, each coming out with an upset expression, one of them even started crying! The TV Demon had a reputation for being pretty ruthless, but you didn't know it could be that bad. Even the employee that called you in seemed like he was about to crap his pants from all the pressure. You really needed this job. Rent is higher, and income is at an all-time low. You're hoping your less-than-accurate resume was believable.

You take a few deep breaths, 'C'mon, I've got this! I can handle it... I hope...'. After managing to calm down, you plaster on a wide grin and open the door.

“Hi, Mr. Vox! I’m here for the interview.”

— Earlier...

Velvette rolls his eyes as she walks into Vox's office, "Ugh, are you seriously still spying on that saggy old radio fuck?". Vox sat in his office chair, eyes fixed on the Radio Demon displayed from different angles on various monitors. A few swears were muttered under Vox's breath before prying his eyes away from the screen. Spinning his chair around, he slaps on a faux customer service smile, "Velvette! What can I do for you this sinful afternoon, my dear?". A scoff escapes her mouth, "How long are you gonna let this little Alastor obsession run your life? You're supposed to be interviewing new assistants, not stalking some poor hair-styled geriatric fuck! Get it together!". Vox was only half listening, focusing on the screen with Alastor more than the furious overlord before him. Click Click Velvette snaps her fingers in front of the distracted TV Demon. Vox waves a dismissive hand in response, "Yeah, yeah, I'll have Papermint take care of it...". "You really think Papermint can handle that, darling?" A look of realization spreads across Vox's face, "Fuck, you're right. I'll deal with it.". "Attaboy!" The Fashion Overlord praises with a satisfied grin before exiting the office. An annoyed scowl spreads across Vox's face once she leaves. He gets one last look at The Radio Demon displayed throughout the monitors, "Until next time...". __

After countless interviews, Vox was at the end of his rope. Each candidate wasn't qualified in some aspect according to Vox's standards. 'Too eager.' 'Too little experience.'. Some of them simply had an "unlikable face" according to him and sent them out before the interview could even start. "S-Sir?" Papermint hesitantly speaks, "Would you like me to send in the next applicant..?" Vox sighs, "Papermint, let me ask you this. Have I hired anyone yet?" "N-No..." "Then, ɎɆS ɎØᵾ ƗNȻØMⱣɆŦɆNŦ WȺSŦɆ ØF ȺƗɌ. ŦĦƗS ƗS WĦɎ Ɨ ĦȺVĘ ŦØ ǤɆŦ ŦWØ ȺSSƗSŦȺNŦS."

Papermint trembles as sparks of electricity emanating from his angry boss fly toward him, "S-Sorry, Sir! I'll bring them in right away!".

Vox rolls his eyes as Papermint goes to fetch his next victim applicant. You open the door and walk in with a warm smile, the mere sight of you causing Vox to choke on his own spit.

“Hi Mr. Vox! I’m here for the interview.”

—

You place your resume on his desk and sit down on the chair in front of it. The wires in Vox’s head nearly short circuit, unable to comprehend you. You clear your throat in an attempt to cut the initial tension and silence, “Ahem-“

The TV Demon snaps out of his trance and picks up your resume, “Ah, Miss Y/N! Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too, Sir!”

“Please,” he flashes a charming grin, “Call me Vox, doll.”. You smile and nod, “Nice to meet you, Vox.”. The sound of his name on your lips sent shivers down Vox's spine.

He regains his composure and clears his throat, “So, I see you have some experience assisting other overlords. What made you want to be a co-assistant to me at Voxtech?". “I’m sorry, co-assistant?” you ask.

“Yes,” Vox gestures to Papermint standing idly in a corner, “This one over here will also be my assistant. You’ll handle the more personal needs of mine while Papermint handles more business-related needs.”. “I see."

Vox, completely entranced by you, puts your resume down and extends a hand out to you across the desk, “Well, that’s all I really need! Congratulations! You got the job!”. Winning sound effects could be heard from Vox’s speakers as he congratulated you. “Oh! I-Is that it..? No questions..?” you inquire. Was he joking? “Nope, I’ve seen enough," he states firmly.

"Actually," a sly smile creeps out from his teeth, "what size are you?”

“Uh, why?”

“For your uniform of course!”

— You could've sworn the uniform you received was 1-2 sizes smaller than you said you were. The uniform consists of a navy and turquoise pinstripe mini skirt, a low-cut white blouse fitted with a red tie, and black sheer stockings. “I look like one of those clown robot sex toy things…”. Looking in the mirror, you felt very exposed... It wasn't any more slutty than the stuff you'd usually wear, but that was exactly the problem. Why was your work uniform so revealing? You looked like one of Valentino's pornstars rather than a Voxtech employee. No doubt, you looked killer. But, it's still very strange.

"Eh... Whatever. I'm overthinking it." you reassure yourself. __

"Yes, YES! SHE'S PUTTING IT ON!". Vox presses his face against the screen as he watches you through his monitors. He had gotten an employee to stash hidden cameras in your apartment immediately after your interview. The cameras he used for you were the ones he used for spying on Alastor. It's time for someone new to obsess over, someone better. More attainable.

“Fuck, that’s hot…” Vox's pants start to stretch uncomfortably as he continues watching you. His eyes stay glued to the screen, gaze lingering on the exposed skin peeking out through the skimpy clothing.

His hand travels down to the large concealed bulge, palming himself slowly before looking at the time. “SHIT, She’s gonna be here in an hour!.”. The TV demon springs up from his seat and makes his way to the modeling floor of the Vee Tower.

"I don't have time for this!" Velvette exclaims, walking away from Vox. "Come on, Vel," he pleads, "just this once! You do it for Valentino all the time!". She stops in her tracks, turning on her heels sharply to face him, "That's because Valentino has a make-up-applicable face! Not a screen!". Vox chases after her as she walks away. "Velvette," he says with a nervous chuckle, "who said anything about makeup, my dear? Just a little touch-up would be nice!". "If I say yes will you leave me alone?" she asks. "Absolutely!"

Velvette gets some of her workers and assigns them to give Vox a makeover. The employees adorn him in the finest colognes and do his skincare (which is honestly just screen wipes). They tailor his suit to make sure it fits extra perfect and hugs all the right spots. His claws get a nice manicure, having them sharpened and polished to perfection. He's getting all dolled up just for you!

Vox waits patiently in his office for you to arrive, a wide grin on his face as he stares at the door.

Unfortunately, you were running a bit late. Traffic in the entertainment district was brutal at 7:00am, everyone's trying to get to work at this hour you suppose. You wish you had known this prior to your first day, but you usually never wake up before 9:00 so you've never seen the morning traffic. Running late on your first day? Very professional.

To make things worse, when you did finally pull in for work, some jackass parked in your designated spot. Prick. You managed to find a spot down the street and quickly back into the space. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you then hop out of your car and sprint down the street as fast as possible.

You never were much of a runner, but determination set you off into a pace you've never reached before. Pushing open the doors, you find the elevators. A crowd of people huddles around it as they all await the next lift. Fuck that. You dart to the stairs and climb them with all your might. 40 flights. Maybe you should've waited for the elevator.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, you sluggishly pull yourself up the next step. You take a moment to collect yourself and take some deep breaths before running into his office. Bursting open the doors, you sprint down the walkway yelling, "I'M HERE!".

"I *wheeze* am soooooo sorry for being late sir," you apologize, hoping you weren't automatically fired for this, "traffic was horrible and someone took my spot and I'm so sorry, sir!".

Vox had patiently waited an hour in his office for you, anxiously waiting your arrival. Paranoid thoughts of you not showing up ate away at him as he stared at the door in front of him, waiting for you to walk in in all of your glory. His smile never faded, of course, his customary showman grin plastered on his face. Occasionally, he'd glance into the reflection of a monitor, checking his appearance. Did he look good enough? He sure hoped he did.

And then, finally, you come bustling through the door. Your hair is messy, loose strands falling from your neat ponytail. The uniform was a bit disheveled, but still. Holy shit.

The TV demon chuckles softly, putting up a hand to stop your rambling, "No worries, my dear, I understand.". How could he ever be mad at you? To him, you're absolute perfection. "Really?" a smile spreads across your face. "Thank you so much, sir," you beam, "it won't happen again I promise!".

"It better not!" he teases, a bark of laughter escaping him. "You know," he adds, "to avoid this little issue again, why don't I give you a ride sometime?". "No no," you protest, waving your hands as a declining gesture, "I couldn't ask you to go out of your way to do that. I'm supposed to assist you.". "Nonsense, my dear," he insists, "it wouldn't be out of the way at all!".

He's certainly very accommodating to you, but why? Wasn't he supposed to be the infamous horrifying TV overlord you've heard all about? Maybe it's just exaggerated gossip, after all, he seemed like a nice guy! Maybe too nice. "But, don't you live here..? Wouldn't it be a little inconvenient to drive all the way to my place and back?".

You got him there, he really had no reason to go out of his way for that without raising suspicion. His smile falters slightly, his voice a bit quieter now, "Yes, of course. That makes more sense...". It goes quiet for a moment, Vox projecting sweat on his screen as he's nervous that he already screwed everything up.

He clears his throat and throws on a fake grin, "Anyways! How about we get you started on your first task, hm?". You nod, grabbing out your notepad and pen, and getting ready to write down whatever he says.

"Let's see," he taps a sharp turquoise claw to his screen, "how about you start with running a few errands for me? I'll write down a list of groceries for you to fetch. Vox jots down a few items on a post-it and rips it off before handing it to you. You grab the list and nod, "Yes, Mr. Vox.".

Truthfully, he didn't want you to do anything. Preferably, he'd have you perched on his lap like a pretty little trophy. But alas, that wasn't exactly a normal thing to ask of your new employee so, he settled with groceries for now.

Heading back into your car, you drive to the store of choice, Hellwhon. Personally, you think that store is gaudy and outrageously overpriced. But, hey, if you were as rich as Vox you'd probably shop there too! "Alright. Sushi, dolphin meat, coffee beans, and redbull..." you repeat to yourself, trying to memorize the list of bizarre groceries. Man, rich people are weird…

Despite your opinions on the abnormality of the upper class, you happily comply in buying the groceries.

Unbeknownst to you, Vox had been watching you the whole time. Street lamps, drones, security cameras, etc., were all Voxtech-owned and therefore can be monitored by the TV demon himself. All eyes were on you.

Alastor, his previous infatuation, was now completely disregarded by Vox. He cleared out his shrine of the Radio Demon and made way for a new one, you. Only you, always you. Previous body pillows, photos, and posters of Alastor were replaced by custom-made merch of you.

He'd taken screenshots of you from his surveillance cameras and plastered them onto body pillows. Nude, clothed, and uniformed photos of your likeness got printed and sent to a VoxTech manufacturer for some poor employee to make. The TV demon spent hundreds of dollars on products in your likeness: candles with your face on them, framed photos, etc. His infatuation is growing, and it's growing fast.

__ Heavy grocery bags fill your arms as you approach the V tower. Pressing your back against the heavy glass doors, you struggle to open them. Vox's other assistant, Papermint, notices your struggle from the lobby and hastily opens the door for you. "Thank you," you breathe out. He nods and gestures for the groceries, "N-No problem! Let me get that for you-". You turn your arms away, "Oh, I've got it. Thanks though!".

As much as you wanted help, you had to do it on your own You needed to prove yourself after showing up an hour late on your first day. Vox needs to know that you're capable of this job!

Your arms start to give out the longer you hold the heavy plastic bags. "Fuck," you mutter to yourself, "why didn't I just accept his help?". After an agonizing wait in the crowded elevator, you finally reach the penthouse floor.

Scurrying across the penthouse, you reach the high-tech, lavish kitchen. You sort all the groceries into their respective cupboards or shelves, except the dolphin meat, you weren't sure where that hell went.

Vox's head snaps towards the door as he hears you enter his office. "Hi, Mr. Vox," you say with a wide smile, "so sorry to bother I just have a quick question...". Vox beams as you enter, turning his full attention to you, "Yes, Doll?". "I wasn't sure what to do with this," you gesture to the package of dolphin meat. "Oh, right," he explains, striding closer towards you. He gestures his arms to the array of sharks surrounding his below office, “It’s for the fish, of course!”.

Right, the "fish". He glances down at the techy sharks before looking back at you, "Wanna feed them?". His eyes light up at the prospect of this. A hot, sexy woman feeding his precious little sharks?! He fought the urge to fuck you then and there.

"Uh," you hesitate, having the slightest fear of sharks, "maybe another time.". "C'mon," he insists, stepping closer to you. Large hands find the small of your back and guide you to the edge of the platform. "They won't bite..." he whispers in your ear softly, his hot breath hitting your skin.

Fuck. You couldn't say no now! Not with your boss all insistent and close to you like this. You swallow as you brace yourself to face your fears. Glancing down at the package of dolphins, you struggle to tear open the plastic wrap. Maybe if you procrastinated enough with the packaging, he'd let it go and get his soft hands off your waist. Shit, were you turned on or scared? Either way you needed to get this over with ASAP!

Taking a step forward, Vox reluctantly releases his grip on you. You hold out the food far out in front of you and plop it into the water. Sharks splash and surround the meat, fighting viciously for it.

You shuffled back rapidly away from the aquarium and bumped into your boss, "Shit!". His firm chest presses up against your back, hands gripping your waist to keep you in place. "Careful now, sweetheart," he whispers in a husky voice. Fuck, that was hot.

You quickly regain your composure and step back to maintain a professional distance between the two of you, "Yes, sir! I-I'm so sorry!". "No apology necessary, Doll," he says with half-lidded eyes and a casual smile. You were for sure fired for this, despite his reassuring words. You were late, reluctant to do what he asked, and now you're kind of turned on by your boss. What kind of assistant are you?! "I guess I'll get back to work. A-Anything you need? Coffee? Tea?".

"Hm," he ponders for a moment, "do me a favor and organize the pantry in my penthouse.". "Yes, sir!" you say, quickly running out of his office and to his penthouse. Phew. Finally, you're out of that humiliating situation.

Vox didn't need his pantry organized. His penthouse is practically spotless! Truthfully, he just needed you occupied for a while so he could revel in the lingering scent of you on his clothes. As soon as you're out of sight, he scrambles to his desk and whips out his surveillance footage. He'd already had his favorite clips of you compiled into a file named "<3". In said file, there are various videos of you roaming around doing routine tasks. He'd save it into the file whenever you looked particularly cute or ravishing.

Vox scrolls through the file and clicks on different videos and screenshots compiled in it. "Hnnf, yes," he moans out, unbuckling his belt with haste. He quickly slides down his pants and boxers, freeing his aching navy cock. Pre-cum leaked through his tip and slid down the side of his hefty shaft. Shrugging his coat off, he sniffs the place where you'd been previously pressed against. He takes in the scent, trying to smell every trace of your scent that lingered on his clothes.

His hand wraps around his length and squeezes tightly. He closes his eyes as he pumps himself, imagining your pretty little hand wrapped around him, "Fuck, Y/N... That's it, Doll...". The pace of his movements increases while inhaling your scent on his jacket with desperate fervor. Prying his eyes open, he looks at the monitor displaying your likeness.

He drops the jacket and reaches for his computer mouse. Scrolling through the file, he finds the video he's looking for, a video of you in the shower. A grin spreads across the TV demon's screen, "Hah, fuck... So fucking perfect, gonna make you mine.". He pumps his hand faster, hips bucking into his own hands as he chases his release. "Fuck, fuck, fuck FUUCK," buckets of cum pour all over his hand as his orgasm crashes over him.

He grabs a couple wipes and cleans himself up, wishing he had you there to lick him clean. Slumping back into the chair, a frown spreads across his face. His focus is fixed on the screen with longing in his eyes. Staring at the monitors, he reaches out, putting a hand onto the screen, "Why can't you be mine...?".

The rest of the week droned on pretty monotonously. Despite a few tasks that would take you tops 5 minutes here and there, you didn't have much to do. You'd insist on helping Vox with whatever, but rest assured, he always claimed that there was simply nothing to do. And while it's great to sit around all day in your Boss's fancy office, it does get boring and a little strange. Why did Vox even hire you in the first place? It seemed like he didn't need you.

One day, you're out on a coffee run for Vox. Of course, he insisted that you buy something for yourself on him. You make your way down to the food court in the lobby and grab two coffees, one large black coffee, and a small iced latte. On your way back, you run into Vox's other assistant, Papermint. "Hey," you greet him, "how's it going?".

The demon looked nervous and stressed out. He gives you a shaky smile, "H-Hey there.". He almost immediately darts away after he speaks. You follow after him, "Wait up!". Why'd he run away from you? Did you say something wrong?

He stops in his tracks and sighs, unaware of the fact that you're right behind him. You tap him on the shoulder. The sinner jumps at the contact of your hand on his back, "Ah! Y-You're still here...". He nervously chuckles, to which you raise an eyebrow, "Uh, yeah! I was hoping to chat, actually. I'm pretty bored around here.". He stammers, "B-Bored? H-Here?". "Uh huh..." you confirm. Maybe you should've let this guy run away, he didn't seem very stable-

"Y-You're not tasked with an impossible list of things to do?!" he asks, gripping your shoulders tightly. "What, no? I've barely had anything to do all week!" you reply, trying to gently pry yourself from his grip. He realizes his intense embrace and lets you go, eyes scanning the surrounding area as if he were making sure nobody was watching. Papermint leans in closely and whispers, "You're telling me you have had no work?". You nod. He takes a deep breath, speaking in a strained voice, "I have had the same, if not more, work than before. Hiring you was supposed to alleviate some of my workload...".

"I-I'm sorry," you squeak. He shakes his head, "No, it's not your fault...". Whipping his head back, he looks at the security camera facing directly toward him, "C-Crap, I've got to go!". Before you can protest, he darts out of sight, the camera turning its head to follow his every move.

What the fuck was that?

__ A scowl forms on Vox's face as he watches you and Papermint through the live security feed, "I thought I told that քʀɨƈӄ to never speak to you...". His eyes stay fixed on the screen, electricity sparking from his screen as his anger simmers. It seems Papermint needs a "friendly talking to".

You made your way back up to Vox's office a bit after your strange encounter with Papermint. Balancing the two coffees in one arm, you used the other arm to push open the office door. The door doesn't budge open. Huh, weird...

Pressing your ear to the door, you hear yelling and the commotion of objects being thrown. You can't exactly make out what's being said, however, it was clear Vox was the one yelling. He sounded pissed.

Moments later, you hear the yelling stop, along with footsteps getting louder as they reach the door. Stepping back from the door, Papermint emerges, bruised and limping, sporting a dark black eye. You reach your hand out to him, to which he flinches. "Are you-" Before you can finish, his eyes widen in fear, and he limps away as fast as he can.

Shit, was this your fault? You were supposed to be picking up Papermint's slack. He probably got in trouble for wasting time and talking to you. Maybe you should talk to Vox about picking up your dead weight...

A shakey hand reaches out to push open the door, a determined look on your face. Vox is hunched over his desk, the room disheveled with a few objects lying broken on the floor. "Sir?"

He turns over with a deranged look. His expression softens as he sees you, a smile stretching across his face as he straightens his posture, "Ah, there you are! My favorite assistant? What do you need, Doll?". "Actually," you take a deep breath, stealing yourself for the conversation ahead, "I wanted to talk about something.". He tilts his head and nods, gesturing for you to continue.

"Well, I-I want to start doing more around here. I feel like I don't do much," looking up at him, you try to gauge his reaction. He sighs, narrowing his eyes as he speaks, "Did Papermint say something to try to guilt trip you into doing more work? Because if he did I-".

"No, no, no!" you interrupt. You start pacing in small circles as you find the words to express yourself, "What I mean is, I feel as if I don't do enough. I-I'm your assistant, I want to assist you... and I guess I feel as if I'm failing...".

Terror flashes across Vox's face. Failing?! His perfect little assistant?! The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel bad, he just wanted you to relax at work instead of stressing out over work, "What? No, uh, here! I'll assign you something very important!". A wave of relief washes over you, "Really?". He nods, chuckling nervously as he scrambles to find a task for you. Scrolling through the calendar on his computer, he finds something for you to do, "Ah, here we are!". He turns to you with a composed grin, "I have a meeting today at 4:00. Now, I understand that it's last minute, and it's not the type of duties that you usually do-". "I'll do it!" you say with a smile.

Vox lets out a satisfied hum, "Good girl.". He clacks away on his keyboard for a moment before turning back to face you, "I've sent you an email regarding all the information you'll need to present at the meeting.". "Great! You won't regret this Mr. Vox!" you beam.

As you step into the conference room, a sense of purpose fills the air. The long table, polished to a shine, invites collaboration, while the chairs await their occupants. You methodically arrange the seating, making sure everyone will have a comfortable spot and a good view of the presentation.

Eventually, a few of VoxTech's affiliates walk in and wait for you to present. "Hi, I'm Y/N," you introduce with a wide smile, "I'll be here in place of Vox today!". A couple of the demons give you a skeptical look. "Rest assured, I know everything there is to know! So if you'd just look over here," you point to the presentation displayed on the flatscreen at the head of the room.

As you present, you find yourself reaching over the table often, causing the skimpy uniform to ride up in the back. And while you tried to fix it, it looked a bit odd for you to fidget with your skirt hem every 5 seconds. So, you let it ride up. Nobody would see you anyway since they're faced the opposite way, so no worries! Right?

Vox leaned back in his office chair, his eyes glued to the live feed on his computer monitors. You were currently bent over the conference table, your short skirt riding up and exposing the skin of your ass as you worked diligently on the presentation. Vox's needy cock twitches in his trousers at the sight, his mind filled with dirty fantasies.

He imagines running his hands over your toned body, gripping your hips as he fucks you hard against the table. He reaches down to unzip his pants, freeing the heavy erection from the confines of his pants. His cock springs out as he pulls down his boxers, beads of pre-cum leaking from the turquoise tip.

His breathing grew heavier as he watched you, imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to that beautiful body... Bend you over the desk and pound into your tight cunt until you scream. Suck on those perfect tits while he fingered your dripping slit... make you beg for his cock like the desperate slut you are…

Vox starts stroking himself, "Fuck, so pretty...". He whimpers as he pumps his cock faster, watching as more and more of your ass unknowingly gets exposed. Pressing a button, the segment clips and loops over and over. Releasing his shaft, he opens a cabinet where a body pillow of you is stuffed inside. Positioning the pillow of you under him, he starts humping the pillow, rubbing his shaft against the soft fabric.

His eyes flicker back to the screen, a dopey blissed-out smile across his face, "Hnnf, so naughty... Showing off for me like that...". Hips buck against the pillows vigorously as he approaches orgasm. Unbridled moans and grunts leave his lips, not bothering to keep his voice down in case others might hear. With a final thrust, cum shoots across the pillow, painting your printed self.

Slumping against the chair, he wipes the cum off himself and the pillow with a tissue, "Let's get you all cleaned up, Princess.". With a satisfied sigh, he tenderly gathers the used tissues, disposing of them discreetly in the wastebasket at his feet. Then, cradling the soiled pillow close, he brings it to his face, he inhales deeply as if trying to somehow get your scent. A contented smile plays on his lips as he nestles the pillow against him, the soft fabric relaxing his body after the aftershocks of his orgasm.

For a moment, he relaxes, sitting perched on the chair as he cuddles the pillow. But soon enough, reality sets in. With a sigh, he tucks the soiled pillow away in a dresser drawer and pulls up his pants. He grimaces, realizing his underwear is damp from precum. Ugh, he needs to do laundry. Grabbing both the pillowcase and his soiled boxers, he strides out of his office and makes his way up the elevator to his penthouse. __

Meanwhile, the meeting had gone very well! Despite the minor wardrobe malfunction, you got through your presentation quickly and efficiently! Hopefully, this alleviated at least one task of Papermint's plate... every time you thought of what happened to him you got a horrible stomach ache.

You clean up the conference room and head to Vox's office with news from how the meeting went. Damn it, the door's locked again! Trepidation filled you as the worst possible scenario plagued your thoughts. Did Papermint get in trouble because of you again?!

You listen in through the door and hear a loud voice. However, it wasn't exactly yelling... it was more akin to moaning. "The fuck's going on in there?" you mutter to yourself. An unnerving chill crawls down your spine, "Ugh, I don't even want to know.".

Instead, you take the elevator to his penthouse and make yourself busy there, cleaning, organizing, and whatever else that could keep you busy.

__ Vox walks into the penthouse, panic settling in as he sees you cleaning the sink. Quickly hiding the cum-soaked items behind his back, he flashes a nervous grin. "Oh! H-Hey! What are you doing here?" he asks with a nervous chuckle.

You set down the dish in your hand and smile, "Just cleaning up. You were busy in your office so I occupied myself with some tasks.". The color nearly drains from his screen as you mention him being "busy" in his office, "Right right... You didn't happen to walk into my office, did you?". You shake your head no. "Good, good," he says with a relieved sigh.

The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say. Vox shuffles awkwardly to the side towards the laundry room, "Don't mind me, I just need to wash a few things.". Tearing off a paper towel, you dry off your hands, "Oh! Let me do that for you-". You walk towards him but he backs away, "No!" he blurts out louder than intended. "I- Ahem, what I mean is," he starts sweating, nervous that you'll find out about his perverted venture, "I can wash them myself! No need to halt your duties, my dear.". "Uh, okay..." you comply, confused about why he's so adamant about this. What's he hiding?

Vox walks backward into the laundry room, shutting the door in front of him with an awkward kick. "Alright, that was super normal," you mutter to yourself sarcastically, "just another normal day with my normal boss."

Walking back to the sink, you resume cleaning the dishes. After around 5 minutes, Vox walks out of the laundry room, checking you out from behind. A husky low voice calls out from behind you, "Bye, Doll.". You turn your head back and see Vox standing by the door. "Bye, Mr. Vox," you reply with a polite smile.

The TV demon practically melted into a puddle at your warm expression. He takes one last longing look at you before leaving the penthouse __

An hour or so passes, and you hear the beeping of the washing machine. At first, you ignore the sound. You really should respect your boss' privacy. The machine continues to beep, the relentless noise testing your nosy tendencies.

Maybe you could just switch the clothes into the dryer, that wouldn't be nosy! It'd be the responsible thing to do as his assistant. Once you justify your snooping, you walk into the laundry room with an air of confidence in your decisions.

The door of the washing machine swings open. Hmm, it just looks like a few pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab the wet articles of fabric. The first one you look at is a simple pair of navy boxers. 'Pft, maybe he pissed himself or something,' you chuckle at the thought.

The discovery sends a chill down your spine as you inspect the pillow, fingers brushing against the soft fabric. It was you. A bizarre photo of you that you hadn't seen before. A wave of nausea washes over you as you take in the unmistakable resemblance - the same shade of hair, the curve of your neck, even the subtle blemishes in your skin. Your mind reels, trying to process this unsettling discovery. Why would Vox keep such a disturbing object? Was it some kind of fetish of his? Your breath comes in short gasps as you stare at the pillow, your eyes tracing over the photo that evokes a haunting familiarity.

Suddenly, a hand grabs at your waist and another at your neck. "You really weren't supposed to see that," the familiar whisper sends a chill down your spine. You try to explain yourself, but you can't seem to find the words. Your flight or fight response kicks in. Flight.

You attempt to pry yourself from his firm hold on you, but your attempts are futile. "You're not going anywhere, princess," he stares into your eyes with his hypnotic red glowing eye. Your vision blurs, your mind going numb as the room starts to spin.

Your eyes blink open, your head throbbing as you wake up. Looking around, the surroundings were familiar of sorts, you just couldn't put it together. Your fuzzy mind works overtime to figure out where you are. It's a bedroom. A lavish one at that. It's sleek and modern and, frankly, quite boring. Blue and red accents are scattered around the room. Blue and red... Wait, this is Vox's bedroom. In that instant, everything became clear — the cloth covering your mouth, the ropes bound around your waist and wrists, securing you to the chair.

"Someone's awake," a voice coos into your ear. Your muffled screams do nothing to help you, the TV demon looking back at you with an unfazed grin. A single tear rolls down your cheek, fearing the worst. Would he kill you? Would he torture you?

"Shh, don't cry," he wipes the tear off your cheek with his thumb, hand cradling your face as he tries to soothe you, "You're safe with me, don't worry, Doll.". Safe?! Was that a joke?! You shoot him a glare.

He cups your face in his hands, "Don't look at me like that, Y/N.". Tracing a finger along your jawline, he tilts your face up towards him, "You look beautiful like this, all tied up and helpless.". Fear twists your stomach into knots as you meet Vox's gaze, searching for any hint of humanity in his eyes. His claws rake through your hair, hands finding the knot at the back of the cloth. He unties it, freeing your mouth from the confines of the tight fabric. "What do you want from me?!" you gasp out.

Vox chuckled, the sound sending a chill down your spine, "Oh, princess, I think you know exactly what I want. I've wanted it for so long now.". His fingers drifted lower, brushing against the top of your breast through your blouse.

Trepidation and anxiety course through your veins, sweat building up on your skin. You try to squirm away, but the ropes binding you to the chair only dig deeper into your skin, making you wince. "Please, stop..." you whisper helplessly.

"C'mon, don't try to deny how enticing life with me would be," he explains in a low voice, "I'd take care of you, you wouldn't have to worry about work or money ever again.". He circles around behind you, soft hand massaging your shoulders as he speaks into your ear, "You wouldn't have to live in that crappy apartment anymore. No more worrying about rent, food, anything. It'd all be taken care of.". You turn your head and meet his gaze, your expression unconvinced. He scowls at your expression, red rings appearing in his eye in a pattern. Shit, he's trying to hypnotize you. You have to fight it.

"You will be mine. Your role here at VoxTech has changed, alright?" he commands, the once repulsive idea now sounding strangely enticing. You close your eyes and shake your head, "No! Stop, you can't manipulate me like this.". He scoffs, tired of hearing your rejections, "Oh, be serious! Do you really wanna live out the rest of your afterlife being nothing? Face it, without me, you can't get out of the dull life you have.". As much as you wanted to yell at him, tell him he was wrong, you didn't... You hated yourself for even considering his deal. On one hand, you'd be with someone unfathomably unstable... on the other, you'd be financially stable for the first time in your life... you'd be protected and loved, something you've never had. "...Fine," you hesitantly agree.

Vox reaches out to untie the rope around you, "Good girl.". He takes your hand and guides you to his bed, sitting you down on his lap, "See? That wasn't so hard.". He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "This is where you belong, Doll. Isn't that right?".

He takes note of your lack of response, grabbing your chin roughly to look at him, "Answer me when I talk to you.". Swallowing your pride, you nod, "Okay.". Vox releases his grip on your chin and smiles softly. He moves in closer and kisses you tenderly while combing his claws through your hair. His kisses were surprisingly soft and loving, yet you couldn't bring yourself to kiss him back.

Hands snake down to your blouse, unbuttoning it until your chest is exposed. Grabbing your wrists, he guides your hands to his jacket, silently asking you to undress him as well. You comply, sliding the jacket off his torso and reaching around his neck to unite his bowtie. The TV demon watches you with adoring eyes, biting his lip softly at the sight. To him, doing this was a sign that you actually wanted him.

"Arms up," you command softly. He obeys with a delighted smile. Slipping the vest over his head, you take off his dress shirt and discard the clothes onto the floor. His chest was surprisingly toned... Not a bad sight to be honest.

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Like what you see?”. You roll your eyes. Vox smirks and leans in for another kiss, mashing his lips against yours feverishly. He moans softly against your lips, laying you down on the bed until he's hovering over you.

Hands trail down your chest and to your skirt, pulling it down with your stockings and panties. Once fully undressed, his eyes widen with admiration, gently reaching out to cup your breast in his palm, "Finally... Mine".

Vox kneads your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peak into hard little buds. Leaning down, Vox captures your lips in a brutal kiss, forcing his tongue past your teeth to claim your mouth.

"I've dreamed of this," Vox rasps against your skin, his free hand sliding down to grasp your thigh. Your body betrays you, an uncomfortable slick building between your thighs, causing you to squirm. He smiles softly at your fidgeting, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, princess.". His fingers find your sensitive nub, rubbing firm circles that send shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your core. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction and more pressure.

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as the coil of tension within you winds tighter. Vox's fingers never faltered, driving you closer to the brink with each passing second. Suddenly, Vox withdrew his hand, leaving you panting and aching with need. You whine softly. "Not yet, Doll," he whispers, "we have all night, and I intend to make every moment count.".

He sits up, legs on either side of you as he unbuttons his trousers and pulls down the zipper. Sliding off his pants, he discards them onto the heap of clothing on the floor. He now sits before you in his boxers, the outline of his hardened cock visible through the fabric. Pre-cum soaking the stretched underwear, your eyes fixed on the damp spot.

The TV demon hooks his claws under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down hastily without hesitation. His cock springs free, the erect member standing tall against his stomach. Vox's cock is impressive, thick, and long, with a prominent vein running along its underside. It's a terrifying and tantalizing sight, the girthy head flushed a bright turquoise, a stark contrast to his navy shaft. The tip leaks beads of pre-cum that glisten in the dim light. He climbs over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "Behold, Doll... My body, a testament to my love for you.".

His hands grab your thighs and spread them apart, revealing your slick pussy to him. He pushes into you slowly, filling your needy hole completely, "Hnnf, so fucking tight.". Hips rock into yours at a leisurely pace, savoring every moment of this. His cock filled you entirely and hit your g-spot just right. You couldn't help the moans that fell from your lips with each thrust.

A smile spreads across his face as he pants, pistoning harder into you now. His fingers find your swollen bud and gather some slick onto it. He rubs slow circles, the added stimulation bringing you closer to orgasm.

He keeps pounding into you, each thrust sending shivers through both their bodies. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with your soft moans, his eyes locked onto yours. His movements became faster, more erratic as he neared his peak. Lewd wet sounds filled the room as he slammed his cock inside of you, "Say you love me...". "Wha?" you look at him confused. "S-Say it!" he commands shakily, his rhythm slowing as if threatening to stop.

"F-Fuck, okay, I love you.".

He reaches up to hold your hand against the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, "Love you more...". Your hips buck up to meet his, craving release. With a loud grunt, Vox buried himself deep inside you as he came, filling you up with his hot seed. Your orgasm follows soon after, walls clenching around his spent cock. His body trembled against yours as he rode out his climax, collapsing on top of you.

The two of you take a moment to collect yourselves before Vox rolls beside you, a giddy smile on his face. You roll over to face him and immediately get pulled onto his chest, hugging you suffocatingly tight. What have you gotten yourself into? Before you can let the regret set in, you fall asleep.

"Goodnight, my love.".

Sunlight creeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his bedroom, causing you to stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, still intertwined with Vox. "Shit, what have I done?" you whisper to yourself, dragging your hand down your face. Maybe you could just leave, change your name, and never come to this sector of the pride ring ever again. Carefully, you untwine your body from Vox's and hop off the bed, gathering your clothes off the floor. You slide on your skirt when large hands grab at your waist. "Where do you think you're going~" a raspy voice asks from behind you. Shit, you got caught. "I, uhm-".

Vox cuts you off and pulls you back into bed with him, "You're not going anywhere, my dear... You belong to me now, only me.". His grip on you was tight and relentless, no way of escape now. You lay there staring at the ceiling, remorse causing your stomach to ache. There's no chance Vox was gonna let you go now, no, now that he had you you'd belong to him forever.

The End.

__ I HOPE YGS LIKED THIS ONE!! PT.2 MAYBE LOL IF YGS WANT IT WKEFBHKWEFWKBHF. my mind is FRIEDDD so if i randomly repeated stuff or spelt some shit embarrassingly wrong im sorry.

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ:

@takemetoneverland420, @rlini0914, @ithofficial, @angel-fallz, @sweet-radio, @fru1tbatzz,

@janussillyprompts, @leonotlara

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fiapartridge · 11 months ago

Text

♡ how you get the girl | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: after you walk out on quinn, he realizes he made the biggest mistake of his life, leading him to your doorstep. wet, soppy, and begging for forgiveness.

warning(s): cursing, kissing and grinding and stuff leading to sex but no actual sex described??? idk it just gets heated, angst but there is a happy ending!!!! <33333

author's note 💌: i love writing for quinn. he's my fave. anyways, i got a request to do a part two to the "you're losing me" imagine so! hope u enjoy!

read part one here !!

YOU LEFT HIM. And for a moment, the longest moment of his life, it felt like Quinn’s heart stopped beating. It felt like a wake-up call.

Ever since becoming captain, his focus shifted. His eyes grew tired, waking up before you had the chance to pepper him with kisses in the morning. His arms felt sluggish, coming home later and later, trying to perfect his performance, trying to be a good captain for the team, trying to be the person they needed after a terrible, horrific season. He was trying so hard to be what they needed that he forgot about the most important person in his life, and what she needed.

The second you walked out the door, he knew he fucked up. He knew he should’ve called out for you, or kissed you before you had the chance to break up with him and end it all, or promise to be there, to be what you needed. But that argument—it felt like the end. He hadn't lost you in that moment; you had been slipping away for much longer.

“Hey, where’s Y/N going?” Brock drunkenly draped his arm over Quinn’s shoulder, watching him watch the door like you were going to come back and rush into his arms, saying that it was all a huge mistake; that you didn’t mean what you said; that you didn’t care that Quinn had made no time for you in the months he became captain. But that’s not who you are. When you say something, you mean it.

“I fucked up,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to believe that it was true.

Brock’s brows raised, his words a bit slurred but still comprehensive. He pouted. “What did Captain Huggy do now?”

“She asked me if I wanted to marry her.”

Brock released a breath as if gaining his sobriety. “Oh shit. What’d you say?”

Quinn gulped, not believing the words he was gonna say. Of course he wanted to marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He would give up anything to be with you, even hockey. And he should’ve said it, he knows he should’ve said it. But would you even believe him if he did? He hasn’t spent a waking minute with you for the past three months. You don’t do that to someone you love. “I said no.”

“What did you want to say?”

Quinn didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t have to think about his answer. “That I would marry her in a heartbeat. That I fucked up and I don’t even know how to fix it.” That when he’s asleep, you’re the only thing he sees in his dreams; that when he’s at practice, and he sees his teammates with their wives and kids, he wonders what it would be like for you to be there, your child on your lap, cheering him on from the stands; that he knows he’s been neglecting you, but he just felt like you would always be there, even if he stopped paying attention.

“So what’re you gonna do?”

Walking back into the party, Quinn scrambled to find his car keys, ignoring the questions of where he’s going and if he’ll return because, for once, he didn’t care about what they thought about him. All he thought about was making it up to you and getting you back.

After fifteen of the longest minutes of his life, he finally made it to your apartment. He knew you would be here instead of his, but it broke his heart nonetheless. You always said that you hated being here. It felt cold and lonely in contrast to Quinn’s, but after these past couple months, neither apartment felt like home.

It was raining outside as he paced outside your apartment complex, trying to come up with the right words, not wanting to say something that’ll upset you further. His suit was wet, his hair shaggy, and his new white socks a squishy mess. You deserved more than him, he thought. You deserved so much better. Someone that would actually be there for you and love you and take care of you. That wasn’t Quinn; it was never going to be Quinn, but the least he could do was try.

Knocking on your door, Quinn shook from the rain, and maybe also from a little bit of fear. As terrible as it sounds, he knew you still loved him, but he was worried that that part of your heart was growing smaller and smaller by the second.

Opening your door, you saw the wet mop on his head and his flustery red cheeks. He was standing in a puddle of rainwater and his hands were trembling. You wanted to hold them, give him a mug of hot chocolate, and warm him up. Swaddle him in a fuzzy blanket, cuddle him, and never let go, but you were also pissed as hell. Why was he standing here? Did he want to rub it in some more? That the only guy you’ve ever truly loved, that you ever actually considered marrying, doesn’t want you? That’s just messed up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, anger still laced in your tone. But you felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. You wanted to push it down, but the longer you looked at Quinn and his sad stupid eyes, you resisted it a little less.

“I was afraid,” he muttered, a little less than a whisper.

You rolled your eyes. You’ve been together for years, and he was afraid to tell you he loves you? That he sees a future with you? That he could maybe possibly want to marry you?

Not wanting to hear his excuses, you held your hand on the wood, attempting to close the door as he held it open, a plea in his eyes—please hear me out. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t be what you needed. You shouldn’t marry me. You deserve so much more than me, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “And that’s supposed to be your decision? I get to decide who and what I deserve, not you.” Tearing your eyes from him, Quinn felt his heart plummeting even faster. He can’t lose you. “You know, maybe you were right, Quinn. Maybe we don’t have a future together.”

Was he dying? Was Quinn dying? Is this what death felt like? He felt like he was dying. Everything was going wrong. He was wet, you two weren’t back together yet, and somehow you are even more mad at him than before he came.

Just be honest, his mind screamed.

“I thought that I needed to be what everyone else needed,” he said, staring at the puddle of rain he tracked in. “I needed to be a good captain, I needed to be a good player for the fans and for the organization, I needed to be good for my family, but I forgot about you and what you needed.”

“You don’t need to be on for me, Quinn!” you shouted, not caring for your neighbors that could probably hear from down the hall or the people walking past your guys’ melodramatic scene. “If you just told me how you felt, I would’ve been there! I would’ve been there for you!” your eyes were stinging, sparkling with unshed tears. “But you pushed me aside like I was nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “I think you should go-”

“I’ve thought about marrying you since the moment I met you. Since the moment you met my family and you couldn’t care less that Jack had no idea what personal space was, and that Luke was in love with you so he always asked to sit next to you at dinner. And how invasive my parents were and my grandma giving you those crazy ten-minute-long hugs and always asking you when you were going to give her grandchildren. I’ve thought about marrying you since our first date when I got whipped cream on my nose from the funnel cake we shared and you licked it off even though it was our first date, and I thought ‘this girl is crazy and I think I’m in love with her.’ I’ve thought about marrying you every time we went to a wedding together, not even caring about the actual ceremony because I was imaging it was you and I walking down that aisle and you would start crying during your vows but you’d somehow also sneak in some sort of joke about me balding soon that would get everyone laughing and I would somehow fall more and more in love with you than I was before.

Quinn walked closer, you let him. “Believe me, I want to marry you, Y/N. I would do it right now if I could.”

“So why-”

“I saw you pulling away. I knew I was losing you. I knew that hockey and my life and everything going on right now was hard, and I didn’t want you to be stuck with it if we got married. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me.”

You breathed out shakily, not expecting…any of that. “I don’t care if you go on roadies every other week, bring me with you. I don’t care if you have a bruised eye or a missing tooth, I’ll be there with an ice pack. If you have to practice from 5 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon, wake me up and I’ll be there with snacks! If the Canucks tank this entire season or they win every single game, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about any of it," you shook your head. "I only care about you.

You held his wet cheeks, his eyes closing against your warm palms. “I’m not stuck with you,” you whispered against his lips. Planting a soft kiss, you felt him chasing your lips as you pulled back. “I want to be with you forever. But what do you want?”

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have to think. “I want you, Y/N. I want to marry you, and grow old with you, and do everything with you. I just- I want you.”

Standing on your toes, you pulled Quinn into a kiss, his lips quickly closing the distance. He melted into your body, his hands finding themselves underneath the fabric of your shirt, wrapping his arms around your torso as if you were going to dissipate into a clear mist.

As you backed into the apartment, Quinn kicked the door shut, sealing the world outside. With the living room dimly lit, you found yourselves on the couch, pulled gently onto his lap, his hands exploring the curves of your body. “I love you,” he whispered, wanting to get closer, closer, so much closer.

Meeting his urgency, you grinded against his hard-on, licking his lips. “Yeah?”

He nodded profusely, already imagining you back at his apartment, where you were meant to be, in his bed, in his shirt, moaning his name. “Yeah.”

You smirked, lifting your shirt over your head, your lacy red bra being on full display. Quinn's eyes drank in the sight, his desire palpable in the air. “Show me how much.”

Quinn wasted no time, his hands finding the clasp of your bra, skillfully releasing the constraints. As the fabric fell away, his hands traced the contours of your skin, a silent vow to explore every inch. To kiss each mole and each dimple, and thank whatever godly entity led you to him.

"Wanna marry you," he moaned into your lips.

"You obsessed with me or something?" you smirked, giggling as he lifted you from the couch, carrying you to your bedroom.

"Something like that."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #i love quinn

933 notes · View notes

urprettylittlething · 1 year ago

Text

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please <3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple.

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe.

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones.

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm.

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours?

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened.

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount.

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag.

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly.

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable.

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start.

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again.

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure.

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit.

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy.

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store.

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic.

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard.

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her.

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone.

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her.

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps.

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax.

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge.

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there.

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc.

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention.

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside.

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside.

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door.

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together.

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them.

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation.

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.”

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching.

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent.

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present.

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly.

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle.

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm.

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them.

Wherever it was, it was concerning.

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway.

1, 2.

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest.

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door.

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door.

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could.

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down.

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever.

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway.

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious.

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside.

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair.

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry.

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality.

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps.

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble.

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing.

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling.

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her.

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps.

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds.

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with.

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air.

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’.

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief.

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind.

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her.

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time.

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known.

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators.

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns, or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones.

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed.

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her.

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror.

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through.

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him.

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling.

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle.

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles.

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need.

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed.

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her.

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well.

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds.

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response.

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it.

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time.

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey.

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

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