#thought better of it; and walked away to eat her dinner
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Dear Diary,
I'm going to have to lock this diary away and destroy it. I love kids.
The Addams kids? They're menaces!
I'm fairly certain the girl wants to kill me. At least the boy seems fairly... sweet? No, not the right word. If I did die, he would definitely hide the evidence. Or eat it. The kid eats like a pig.
One thing is for sure. If I go missing, the girl got me and the boy finished me off.
Dear Diary,
Today was worse. I left the Addams kids playing upstairs while I went to make them lunch. When I came to fetch them, the girl had strapped her brother to some sort of contraption. I'm fairly certain it was an electric chair, though I don't know how she got one. Or why...
He was fine, just hungry. Which is almost more concerning. He ate so much at lunchtime, I'm not sure how he had room for dinner. I thought he might explode.
Oh well. Better luck tomorrow.
Dear Diary,
It's been a week. That girl - Wednesday - has tormented me within an inch of my life! There is blood in strange, unexpected places. Snakes and critters hidden in my bed. She locked me in my room for a whole day! There's even a disembodied hand in this house! It moves.
I think she might be clinically insane.
Pugsley on the other hand...I think he just does whatever she tells him to. Yesterday, she told him to jump out the second story window. I barely caught him. Then, I could barely pull him back inside. The kid weighs a ton.
The kicker? Wednesday said she wanted to see if he would bounce.
Dear Diary,
The Addams family will be reunited in two days. I'm overjoyed. I should've listened when everyone warned me. I won't lie, the house is interesting, and the stories the kids tell are...intriguing, at least, if not worrying. But you won't catch me anywhere near this place again. I wouldn't touch it with a very long pole, not even with several weapons hidden on me.
At least Wednesday has stopped trying to give me a heart attack. Instead, she takes it out on Pugsley.
But at least he seems used to it. Sometimes, I think he enjoys it.
Dear Diary,
Change of plans. Pugsley didn't want me to leave. He sat on my feet and cried when I tried to walk out the door. Not even Wednesday could make him move. Although, I'm not sure how hard she tried. I think I maybe saw a glimmer in her eyes.
It might have been a tear, but I guess it's more likely a plot.
Dear God, I hope it's not against me for leaving.
Maybe I'll come back to visit.
Dear Diary,
It's been awhile. The Addams family is...strange.
Wednesday and Pugsley meet me at the park every weekend for a picnic.
Morticia has me over for tea every other week.
Gomez decided I needed to learn how to fence. I don't think I had a choice. So now I have a fencing lesson twice a week. It's an odd sport.
That hand...Thing. Apparently, he likes playing checkers. I still don't know how I got roped into that.
I avoid the grandma though. She gives me the creeps. Not to mention the bald uncle. I'm fairly sure he's been arrested multiple times.
Anyway, now the Addams family is like my second family. My home away from home.
Who would've thought?
You, new in town and strapped for cash, see an ad in the paper; apparently, a "Gomez and Morticia Addams" are in need of a babysitter to watch their two children during a business trip. Despite the VERY high pay, no one has pursued it. Ignoring warnings from the locals, you sign up.
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~Emotional Soup~
(60’s!Elvis X Reader)
Reader decides to make soup for dinner, which Elvis appreciates, but he’s not exactly thrilled at the table.
Y/n was moving around the kitchen like a busy little Bee, having decided to make a simple pot of vegetable soup for Elvis considering he’d mentioned something to her last night about craving some, as simple as it was. With him so busy with filming ‘Charro!’, she thought it wouldn’t hurt to surprise him with a nice hot bowl for when he comes back home. That got her thinking for a moment. Ever since she was a little Girl, she’d always dreamed of becoming a Housewife, caring for her future Husband with such love and affection, and now that the time had came- Well, it couldn’t have been any better. A smile graced Y/n’s lips, thinking fondly of the memories of how she would play pretend, and how she would insist to any Boy that approached her that she was simply ‘betrothed to another’. A soft laugh bubbled up from her throat, shaking her head at the thought. It was memories like those that made her feel content with her childhood. The good parts, anyways.
The sound of the front door opening and closing again drew Y/n out of her thoughts, peering out of the kitchen to steal a glance at Elvis. “Hey, Baby.” She greeted, too busy at the stove to come to him. “How was your day?” With a deep and heavy sigh, Elvis trudged through the house to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Tiring..” He muttered, resting his bearded chin against her shoulder. “Wanted to leave the set early, but something popped up. Some issue with the film or another. I dunno…I wasn’t exactly payin’ any attention, I just wanted to come home and see my pretty li’l Wife…” He explained further, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, tickling her. She giggles at the feeling, stirring the pot of soup. “I see. I’m sorry you’re so tired, Elvis. How much more filming do you need to do?” “Too much…” He grumbles, sighing again at the thought of filming more. “I like this movie, I really do. ‘S not like the others, but…I need a damn break…” “You’re definitely right about that.” Y/n nodded in agreement, turning off the stove.
“Why don’t you go sit at the table? I’ll bring dinner in a second.” She suggested, hearing him groan in response, not wanting to leave her side. “You wound me with such suggestions, Y/n.” He teases jokingly, pressing a sweet little kiss against her cheek before walking off. She giggles in response, grabbing her pot holders and gripping the handles of the pot before following after him. “Thought I’d surprise you with soup tonight.” “I see that.” Elvis smiles, helping her guide the pot over to the middle of the table. “Smells mighty good, Darlin’. Thank ya’ for makin’ this f’me.” He politely thanked her, pulling out the chair beside his own and easing her to sit down, pushing it back in before sitting down himself. “You’re welcome.” As soup was evenly distributed between the two of them and was ready to be eaten, Y/n goes to talk about the day she had. “So I-“ “Shit.” Elvis muttered beneath his breath as soup dripped in his beard, wiping it away with a napkin rather annoyedly. “Sorry, Baby. Yeah, I’m listenin’.” He apologises, motioning for her to continue as he tries again with his spoon. “Right. Anyways, so I was going through my old scrapbook and found-“ “Goddamn it!” He shouts out when even more soup than last time drips down from his spoon. “I fuckin’ hate this goddamn beard! It’s so damn scratchy, it looks wrong on me, and I can’t even eat goddamn soup without gettin’ pissed the fuck off!” Y/n watches on as Elvis furiously scrubbed the napkin against his chin, resting her hand on his bicep, squeezing supportively. “Hey, I know it bugs you, but you’ll be able to shave it off when you’re done filming.” She tries to calm him down.
“It more than just bugs me, Darlin’! It infuriates the piss outta me! I used to enjoy soup, but now it’s just- Just- Emotional!” He gripes. She couldn’t help but chortle at the way he’d talked about the soup like it was a scar on his emotional wellbeing, hiding her mouth behind her hand. He whips his head over to look at her, narrowing his eyes in an annoyed stare. “You laughin’ at me?” He hissed. Y/n shakes her head, trying her hardest not to laugh more than she already did. “N-No, no..! Not laughing at all..! It’s just-“ She was losing her control. “You made it sound like you’re scarred by soup-“ With no more control over her laughter anymore, she simply let it all out, grasping the edge of the table in poor attempts to ground herself. But of course, Elvis, being the way that he was, simply couldn’t stay mad at her. Rolling his eyes playfully, he chuckled a little. “What, you really think I’m gonna let a silly li’l bowl o’ soup make me cry like that? No way, no how, Missy. Now you better stop laughin’ or else your food’s gonna get cold.” But Y/n couldn’t really stop. She was too far gone in her own humour by now to really take a rest from laughing.
#60s elvis#elvis x reader#elvis photos#elvis presley#elvisaaronpresley#elvis imagine#elvis fandom#elvis x you#elvis x y/n#elvis fans
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my actual child, whom i birthed and raised.
#why does she look so small and why can’t i fold my wrists to that extreme#she laid here for 45 minutes and was purring so loudly the entire time#then 5 minutes ago she decided she was Over It and she stood up; STRONGLY considered smacking me;#thought better of it; and walked away to eat her dinner#i said ‘thank you for getting better at walking away when you’re annoyed and overstimulated instead of lashing out.’#the other night i was brushing her and when she’d had enough she walked several feet away and sat down#normally she would smack the brush out of my hand#i know she doesn’t do things out of malice; she just doesn’t always communicate very clearly#she’ll continually show I Enjoy This body language and then in a split second she’s like I Hate This Actually.#cats#it’s sushi#(literally)
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Okay but hear me out- the batkids as actual Vampires. Not bruce, just the kids, and bruce providing for them. Because he just has the tastiest blood.
Little Dick toddling over to Bruce, tears in his eyes because he ate his bloody dinner too fast and hes still hungry and Bruce just sighing and sticking out his hand and Dick lights up and they watch a movie while dick is happily gnawing on Bruce’s thumb and sucking his blood. Big Dick complains very loudly about how hungry he is and Bruce will glower at him before finally giving in and throwing an arm around his eldests shoulders and Dick pecks his cheek with a sweet “thank you dad.” before sinking his teeth into Bruce’s arm.
Little Jason would very politely come over and tug on his hand and Bruce would pick him up and let him bite his hand and drink, but Big Jason just pounces on Bruce from behind and sinks his teeth into Bruces shoulder/neck for blood.
Little Tim slipping five dollar bills into Bruce’s hand just before chomping his thigh and Big Tim very casually stabbing a needle into Bruce’s leg, extracting blood and then putting it into his coffee and walking away. Sometimes, if he’s feeling nostalgic, he will curl up with his head on bruce’s lap and actually bite him for blood, for pure blood, but he likes his coffee bruce blood blend better
Little Cass never once asked bruce for blood because she was scared, but Bruce would just scoop her into his arms and offer her his already cut open shoulder until she was comfortable enough scaling him like a tree and drinking from his shoulder. Big Cass still doesn't ask for blood, she just lands on his shoulders and bites his bicep.
Little Steph was a little vampire gremlin and any time she saw Bruce without clothes (since his children feed off of him Bruce wears very little, just a tank top and shorts and makes sure to shave as much as possible to provide ample biting space, but as Batman he still wears his full suit just easy to slip off certain parts so his kids can feed easily) she would suction onto him like a little affectionate leech and dig her little teeth into his back. Big Steph also likes his back and has much the same habits as little steph did.
Little Babs wasn't too keen on blood, but sometimes Bruce would offer her his forearm while she was working and she would work and eat. Big Babs has no qualms about taking his blood, but has few chances, so he stops by her Oracle hideout sometimes and just holds out his arm for her to drink
Little Damian thought drinking blood from a human was beneath him. Until he saw Cass doing it and wanted to follow her footsteps, but he cant climb bruce as well as her, so he just sank his teeth into Bruce’s calf. Big Damian will wait until Bruce sits or lays down and props his feet up and will then enjoy his calf blood.
Bruce Wayne who is covered, littered in bite scars of varying sizes, who was once knocked over by his three eldest sons because they had been on a mission away from him for a week and were hungry and before they even said hello just sank their teeth into his neck, hand and thigh. Bruce Wayne who’s majority of scars come from his children, not villains and who willingly offers up his neck to any one of his children if they seem hungry.
Bruce Wayne who, as Batman, will peel his protective bat suit arm off because Dick was hungry on a stake out.
Bruce Wayne who is not a vampire but his children all are and he’ll be damned if he deprives them their nutrients.
(selina kyle who is also a vampire and also gets her blood from bruce but from his-)
#idk what this is truly#i just had the mental image of jason#plowing into bruce from behind and /sinking/ his teeth into bruces neck#and clark watching in surprise and horror#but bruce doesnt even flinch just goes 'hey jaybird. rough day?'#and jason mutters a yes around a mouthful of blood#and then the rest of the kids also join in#just just#just good dad bruce wayne okay?#good dad bruce wayne#vampire batkids#batfam#batman#batman and robin
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Hi! Do you take requests?
If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:
"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"
of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏
If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)
Let's start by saying Caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.
sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.
( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )
it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.
your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.
she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.
“Should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.
oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.
the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.
legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.
if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.
she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.
she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.
the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.
“Caitlyn.”
of course it had to be her mother out of all people.
cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!
“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.
“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.
she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.
#pupi writes ᝰ#IT TOOK ME SO LONG#i'm embarrassed#anyway#if this is shit pls let me now y'all#caitlyn kiramman x reader#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn smut#caitlyn kiramman smut#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#arcane smut#arcane x reader#wlw smut#wlw nsft#sapphic writing#sapphic smut#how do i even write smut#I'M NEW AT THIS#why do i always post fics at 5 am#not good for my health
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Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.
What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)
𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk
— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)
— word count | 3.5k words
— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown
It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.
Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.
His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.
He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.
“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.
She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.
She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.
She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”
Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.
“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.
She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.
Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.
“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”
“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.
Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.
It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.
He was finally home.
“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”
“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.
“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.
“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.
“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.
He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”
“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”
“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.
The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”
“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”
She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”
“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."
Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.
“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”
“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.
"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.
“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.
“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”
Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”
“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.
Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.
She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.
“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.
She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.
For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.
She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.
She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.
But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.
She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.
She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.
Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.
He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.
He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.
After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.
He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.
“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”
Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.
“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”
She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."
Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.
He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.
He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.
Couldn’t get enough.
“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.
“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.
He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”
“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."
She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.
She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”
Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.
He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.
"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.
“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.
She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.
Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.
He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"
“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.
“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.
Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."
He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."
“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”
“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”
“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.
Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”
“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.
Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”
She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.
Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.
"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”
She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”
Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.
"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.
Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."
“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.
Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."
He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.
“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”
Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."
He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”
“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.
Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.
"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.
“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.
Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.
He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those
"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"
“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”
Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.
He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.
She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.
She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.
She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”
“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”
“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”
“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”
“I hate you.”
He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."
“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.
Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.
Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.
He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more
Seductive.
Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.
“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.
“Fine.” She pecked his lips.
A few minutes later.
“Please?”
“Okay.” She pecked his lips.
More minutes go by.
“One more? Last time really.”
“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.
“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.
“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”
“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.
Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”
His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”
“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.
Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."
“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.
Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"
“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”
Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"
“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.
Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."
He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”
“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.
Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.
Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”
“Daddy please—“
“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."
His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.
“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”
Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”
“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.
Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.
Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.
“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"
“Y-Yes”
“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.
The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?
“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”
“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”
The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.
“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.
"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.
"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.
“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.
“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.
He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.
The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.
He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.
"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.
“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”
“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.
The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.
“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.
She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.
She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.
He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.
Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.
“I still got it.”
“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”
#jungkook#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic recs#jeon jungkook#jjk x reader#jungkook fiction#jimin and jungkook#bts jimin#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#bts jungkook#jimin bangtan#bts jeongguk#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk smut#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk fic#sub jjk#jjk angst#jjk x you#jjk spoilers#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jjk fanart#jjk#bts army#bts
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Dogtooth
jack hughes x fem!reader
WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding
summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator
notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼
[2.3k]
dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.
it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.
he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.
and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.
he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.
and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)
you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.
no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.
he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.
finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.
“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.
you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.
“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.
he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”
grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.
“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.
you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”
“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”
said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.
“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.
he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.
you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.
“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”
jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.
“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.
his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?
before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.
“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.
“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.
jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.
he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.
you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.
“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.
“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.
“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.
“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.
“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.
it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.
“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.
you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth.
suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.
the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.
you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.
jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.
the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.
“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.
jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.
fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.
“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.
jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.
your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.
jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.
with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.
“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.
jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.
his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.
you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.
the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.
“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.
you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.
jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.
he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.
your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.
he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.
once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.
“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.
“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.
you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.
jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.
“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.
he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”
you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”
he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.
“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.
it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.
“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.
“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.
making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.
“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.
“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.
#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x you#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes smut#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x y/n#hockey#nhl#new jersey devils#devils hockey#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#hockey blurb#hockey smut#hockey fic#hockey imagine#jh86
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Hey can I request a Aegon x Hightower!aunt reader?
where she's got this holier-than-thou attitude but secretly enjoys seeing Aegon lusts over her (even doing stuff on purpose to fuel his desire). And ultimately she humiliates him in some pleasurable way.
Aegon Targaryen*Pray For Me
Pairing: sub!aegon x f!reader
Word count: 1694
Warnings: a lot of blasphemy, religion, face riding, p in v sex, teasing, m!recieving oral, f!recieving oral, orgasm denial (male), sub aegon, dom reader, good boy, smut 18+
Masterlist here
Your sister was at her wits end, and you couldn’t blame her when you visited court for the first time. Your father was very determined to keep his youngest daughter away from the antics of court but when Alicent requested your presence as the Queen, he decided it was best not to argue.
“Impropriety is a sin, you know,” your voice was quiet, but it shut the whole table up when you spoke.
It was your first family dinner with the queen and her children. Aegon had arrived already tipsy and was being exceptionally loud. “You think me immoral? For having some fun?” he asked, drunkenly smiling as he leant forward.
Alicent let out a sigh and opened her mouth to speak but you spoke before she could, “I think punishment will find those who deserve it,”
“Whatcha gonna do?” he slurred, putting his elbows on the table which you glared at, “Spank me?” he teased.
You smiled sweetly at him and just as he went to sit back in you gave the table a quick jerk causing the wine, he reached for to spill across the table. The red liquid instantly covered his frame, “You bitch!” he jumped up as he tried to shake the wine of his tunic, “This is new!” his whines were almost drowned out by Heleana’s giggles and Alicent’s attempt to hide her laugh.
“If you squandered your money less this wouldn’t be a problem,” you said but it fell on deaf ears as he went to storm out the room.
-
You weren’t shocked when the guards informed your sister Aegon had taken to the silk streets after dinner. He was shocked to find you leaving his room as he got back, “You’re waiting for me?” he smirked when he saw you, “Need me that badly?”
“You’re driving your mother mad,” you sighed, crossing your arms.
Aegon ignored you, his gaze instead lower to how your breasts threatened to spill from your dress, only exaggerated by your crossed arms. You glowered at him as you lowered them, “If you’re worried, pray for me,” he said as he stumbled to his chamber door.
You rolled your eyes as you walked away. However, you still vaguely heard his cries of ‘what the fuck’ when he discovered you’d taken all the wine from his chambers.
-
Each day went the same. Aegon did something that would make a septa blush, you reprimanded him, he hit on you, you made him regret it. “As if you’re perfect,” he’d scoff at you when no one else could hear, “Bet you’re up to all sorts when no one’s looking,” You internally smirked but would just remind him of the sins of the flesh eating away at his soul. He didn’t need to know the truth. Not yet.
Slowly he was beginning to learn, beginning to behave better, but no amount of your scolds would stop his eyes from wandering your frame. Hell, the one time he came to the sept Alicent nearly leapt for joy. You didn’t want to break it to her he’d knelt beside you and kept looking down your dress when he thought you couldn’t see.
You also weren’t willing to admit you’d enjoyed it.
One-night Aegon came to your chambers. He was drunk and begging for your touch, so you sent him away. Your blood went Firey hot however when Aemond later confessed to seeing Aegon in a brothel with a woman who may as well be your twin.
Maybe it was time to punish him on his level.
-
You wanted him to be sober for this. You wanted him to remember his mistakes. So, you waited in his chambers while he was out to morning sword practise. He opened the door with a heavy sigh and let out an even heavier. “What did I do now?” he groaned as he made his way to his wine.
“Leave it,” you said, your voice calm, “And sit down,”
“I’m really not in the mood for a lecture,” he huffed as he grabbed a chalice.
You tutted as you crossed the room, grabbing his wrist gently. Aegon span around, ready to argue, but you stepped forward. Your lips ghosted over his and his breath got stuck in his throat, “Don’t make me ask again,” you said slowly before sleeping back, pointing at the bed.
He nodded softly before slowly making his way to sit on the edge of his bed. His eyes stayed glued to you as he took his place. You followed him slowly, standing between his legs as he gazed up at you, “Better. It’s good when you listen,”
“What are you gonna do?” he mumbled as his hands went to reach for your hips.
You grabbed his wrists softly before he could, “I’m going to give you what you deserve,” you smiled, pushing his hands back to step away.
Before Aegon could protest your hands found the ties of your dress. He swallowed thickly as you unlaced them, allowing the heavy fabric to pool to the floor. Left standing in your thin shift you felt a rush of energy go through you as his eyes drank you in.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.
“Blasphemous,”
“I don’t care,” he was too distracted by your figure to notice your smirk.
You stepped closer, lifting his chin with your finger. You smirked as his cheeks tinged pink. Your hand stroked gently over his cheek. A quick glance down and you could see he was ready. “Get rid of those,” you instructed and instantly he obeyed, “And lay down,”
Without moments Aegon was laying naked, on his bed, an excited look on his face. You moved to straddle his lap, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tried to follow them when you pulled away, but you kept a hand on his chest.
“Patience,” you chastised, “Good things come to those who wait,”
“I don’t think I can wait,” he mumbled.
You ignored him as you leaned down to kiss his cheek, then along his jaw. Just as you began to kiss his neck you lowered your hips, pressing your clothed core against him. He moaned softly as you began to grind against him.
You felt his hands on your hips and pushed them away, “Not yet,” you said, pinning them softly down onto the bed.
“Sorry,” he moaned, gasping when you pressed harder.
After all good behaviour got rewarded. You released one wrist, taking him into your hand. He moaned softly; eyes fluttery shut as you worked your magic. You enjoyed the little sounds he’d make as your kisses moved lower.
Eventually you released your grip on his other wrist as you kissed softly down his chest. However, when you felt his hand move to your hair, you let him go. “What?” he whined as you moved back up his frame.
“You haven’t earned it yet,” you smiled softly, running a hand over his soft locks.
“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes desperately searching yours as his body craved release.
You let your fingers trail down his face till they graced his lips, “I think you know,” you said, and his eyes turned hungry.
Slowly you moved further up till you hovered over his face, “Can I touch you?” he asked, his cool breath fanning over you making chills run down your spine.
“Yes,” you said as you gently lowered yourself down. You couldn’t help but gasp when his tongue began rubbing over your clit. His hands found your thighs, pulling you further down as you grabbed onto his headboard.
Curses fell from your lips as his tongue worked wonders on your bundle of nerves. He moved his head, his tongue now curling inside you as his nose nuzzled your clit. Your hips began to buck, grinding against his face. He let out a low groan, vibrations shooting up your spine.
“Good boy,” the small whisper seemed to egg him on as his movements grew faster. His moans grew louder. It was becoming impossible to hold on as a knot tightened in your belly.
your nails dug into the wood of the headboard as you let out a loud gasp when your peak crashed over you. You kept riding his face till you milked every drop of the pleasure.
Slowly, once you could move your legs again, you moved down his frame again. “You’re amazing,” he said, face wet as his eyes gazed at you with stary like wonder.
“I think you’ve earned a reward,”
Fire sparked in his eyes. He watched with bated breath as you positioned yourself over him. You lined him up, rubbing him against your slit and watching his eyes flutter shut. “Fuck,” he groaned as you slowly sank down.
Your hips moved slow at first, riding him at a tortuous pace. He went to grab your hips but stopped himself. He looked up at you, silently asking permission. You gave a curt nod, a simple smile, and suddenly his fingers dug deep into your hips. “you feel so good,” he mumbled in bliss.
You felt him start to twitch and just as quickly as you brought him to the brink, you pulled away. “What-?” his eyes shot open, searching the room as if someone had caught you, only to discover you’d stopped for seemingly no reason, “Why-?”
“Do you really think you’ve earned that yet?” you chastised, “After all your stunts?” your hand brushed against his cheek as his eyes went wide. You smirked gently, “Oh sweet one, I want to enjoy this,”
You moved down his body till you were between his legs. Your hands reached for the edge of your shift and Aegon watched with bated breath as you pulled it off. “You better not forget what happens to boys who don’t behave,”
You took him in your hand again, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his tip. Aegon hissed at the feeling. He groaned loudly as you began to kiss down the shaft, “Don’t worry,” you told him, “I’ll let you finish,” you licked up the side making him moan, his eyes shutting involuntarily, “eventually,”
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better (ITZY Ryujin)
word count: 13.6K
(much overdue, and the pacing pissed me off that i gave up with editing. regardless, enjoy)
-- -- --
Shin Ryujin was seventeen when you met.
You were at the tattoo shop, drawing in your sketchbook since you recently started as an apprentice, when she walked in. You didn’t know who she was at first because she looked young to be there, innocent, shielded from the sad reality of life. The thought of a teenager rebelling against their parents’ wishes was at the top of your list. Why would a girl like that be in a place like this? She was cute—pretty even, that you were sure that if she was closer to your age, you’d approach her.
She appeared to be looking for someone anyways.
That someone was her brother, the owner of this establishment, and your mentor. Ryuseong greeted her, patting her head, as she pushed him off. She pouted, rolling her eyes, which made him laugh.
You brought your attention back to the paper, shading lightly this design you had been working on. Ryuseong praised you for your designs, appreciating your line work, which was the reason he took you in. He thought you had potential, something you took seriously. He hadn’t let you practice on people yet, but you were getting there. He had a couple clients willing, so it was only a matter of time.
You heard your name being called, breaking your concentration that your hand slips, an unintended line messing up the sketch. You sighed to see Ryuseong waving you over. It wasn’t like you could say no. Reluctantly, you stood up, making your way over and putting on your customer service face.
Ryuseong introduced you to his little sister, who didn’t give you much except for a bored look and a half-assed handshake. She barely even bowed, so you met her in the same regard.
“This is my new apprentice,” Ryuseong pulled you in, wrapping a loose arm around your neck. “He’s pretty good. He’ll be tattooing people in no time.”
“That’s cool,” Ryujin said in a tone that matched her expression.
It took a lot for you not to roll your eyes, especially in front of your boss. You didn’t, thankfully, awkwardly smiling as he asked her if she wanted to get dinner. He even invited you, which you couldn’t say no to this either.
Ryujin walked away, leaving you alone with your boss. He chuckles to himself, prompting you to raise an eyebrow.
“She likes you,” Ryuseong grinned before his face suddenly turned serious. “Just in case, you break her heart, I’ll break your face.”
You deadpanned, scoffing even. As if you would date Ryujin. There was at least a five-year age gap and she wasn’t like the usual women you dated. Odds were slim to begin with.
“Come on, hyung,” You shook your head, the thought slightly annoying you. “She’s your sister. I would not date my boss’s sister.”
A pensive look crossed his face, shrugging, “We’ll see about that.”
There wasn’t anything to see.
(At least if there was something to see, you would have seen it. It would have been obvious.
(It wasn’t.))
-- --
The shriek from behind you would have startled you, unintentionally making the wrong movement, earlier in your career. It jolted your client though, causing you to swiftly withdraw the needle before it touched their skin.
“Yuna-yah,” A familiar voice floated through your ears, followed by a slap. The woman in question whined, and you were certain she was pouting. “Oppa’s working. Be quiet. He needs to concentrate.”
“It’s fine, Ryujin,” You smiled at your client who lifted his head up to see what the commotion was. You apologized, chuckling as you explained that the woman who yelled wasn’t used to the buzzing of the needle. “And yet she still wants a tattoo,” You joked, even though you thought it was ironic.
It seemed to put him at ease as the women behind you fell into a hushed conversation. You overheard something about where to eat, and a third voice you also know, asked if they should invite you.
“Oppa,” You looked at Ryujin once you were done with a minor detail. “How much longer do you have? Unnie wants you to go to dinner with us.”
Yeji huffed, hitting Ryujin whose nose scrunched. She whined, shoving her face into Yuna’s back. The other girls laughed, shaking their heads at the very well-known crush that Yeji had on you.
You smirked, Yeji burying her face in more, “I have a little under an hour. I’ll pay if you don’t mind waiting.”
The girls nodded, smiling brightly, that you winked at Yeji. You saw her cheeks blush from across the room, hiding her face behind Yuna. You noticed Ryujin sigh, rolling her eyes at the exchange.
You found it adorable whenever Ryujin acted like this. You didn’t think you did anything to feed into Yeji’s crush. You were how you always were, but according to Ryujin, you gave her friend the idea that you were into her too.
You weren’t, by any means. You had your interests in someone else. Someone Ryujin knew well, very well, because that someone was her.
It wasn’t something you expected.
You should’ve taken it seriously when Ryuseong made that comment all those years ago.
Ryujin spent a fair amount of time at the tattoo studio. She would often come by after school, and sometimes even on the weekends to help out. You saw her more often than your own girlfriend at the time. There were days she acknowledged your presence with a mumbled hi while other days you barely even got a glance. You didn’t take it personally because she was your boss’s sister. There weren’t any expectations for you to be friends with her. The only expectation you held yourself to was to be polite and respectful.
It happened slowly, but she started hanging around your table, approaching you with simple questions. She wouldn’t linger, asking before walking back across the room. She sometimes rolled the chair over, curious about whatever sketch you were working on. She didn’t know if she wanted a tattoo herself because she wouldn’t know what kind to get.
Ryujin asked, one day, about the tattoos on your arm, and after that day, she always sat by you. She kept you within arm’s reach, never invading your space. You didn’t comment on it, conversing with her based on her moods. There was a nice banter and there was a comfortable quiet. You never forced a conversation with her, it always came naturally. She picked up on your moods too, knowing when to keep talking and when to exist.
“Whatever, we’ll be over there,” She gestured to the poker table. “Get us when you’re done.”
You nodded, dipping the tattoo pen into the ink. She didn’t seem irritated, but you would find out later.
Unknown to her, Yeji knew something was going on between you. To what extent? You couldn’t say, but she had an idea. She asked you out once before, but it was around the time the lines with Ryujin blurred. You enjoyed watching Ryujin squirm. Maybe it was an ego boost, but you had always been loyal to your partners.
Yeji still found you attractive, so it was hard not to blush when her friends teased her. It also didn’t help you’d feed into it just to get a reaction out of Ryujin.
That was always fun.
-- --
You stayed late one night, finishing up a design for a client that was going to take about eight hours to complete. You had already met him earlier that day to scale everything on his body along with making any final touches. Ryuseong trusted you enough to close the shop up, so it wasn’t an issue to have the place to yourself while everyone already left.
You heard footsteps over the music playing and saw Ryujin walking towards you.
“Leave something?” You asked absentmindedly, shading a section.
“Forgot my laptop,” Ryujin answered when she got closer. She grabbed the device that you moved to the corner of your desk. You noticed she left it earlier, intending to drop it off at her place on your way home. “What’re you working on?” She pulled up a seat, wheels rolling before stopping once you kicked your foot out.
“Finishing touches,” Ryujin leaned into your periphery as you kept drawing lines. “Busy with finals?”
“Don’t remind me,” She groaned, running her fingers through her hair. “I also have this project with Chaeryoung that we need to finish tonight. I’m heading over there now.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, figuring she got what she needed and would be on her way. She didn’t. She was still next to you.
“I think I want a tattoo,” Ryujin said suddenly, causing you to look up from your iPad.
Ryujin and her friends had talked about getting tattoos. They were open to it, but half of them hated needles. The other half didn’t know what they wanted—that was fair, the first tattoo is always the hardest to decide.
“Is Ryuseong going to be alright with that?” You asked, tapping the screen to save your work. You’d finish later.
She rolled her eyes, “A bit hypocritical of him if he says no. He has so many.”
“Tattoos are a bit taboo for women, especially here,” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Gangs and all that.”
“And you’re being sexist,” She slapped your chest lightly.
“I’m only joking,” You rubbed the spot she hit, as she stuck her tongue out. “Do you know what you’d want? Or where?”
Ryujin leaned forward, her perfume invaded your senses. You glanced at her lips, shaking the thought of what’d they feel like against yours. “I think,” She paused, crossing one leg over the other, “Maybe somewhere on my rib cage?”
“Of what?” You cleared your throat, realizing how close she was to you.
“Something small, something cute,” Ryujin smiled softly. “Any ideas?”
You hadn’t thought about it, but a few come to mind.
“Where exactly?” You asked, not thinking she’d lift up her sweater along with partially lifting up the sports bra she was wearing. You had never seen so much of her skin. “Uh?”
“Maybe here?” Ryujin traced her finger over a spot. “Now that I think about it, maybe a broken heart?”
“Someone broke your heart?” You were ready to fight whoever it was. You had grown protective of her over the years.
Ryujin shook her head, chuckling as she dropped her clothes, “And if someone did? What’re you going to do?”
You didn’t want to say because she knew of your temper, especially when it came to someone you cared about.
“I’ll fight them,” You said confidently, crossing your arms. “I don’t care.”
Ryujin rolled her eyes, muttering something you didn’t quite catch. She rested her head on your shoulder, sighing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to be like this with her. It brought you a sense of closeness, knowing she felt safe with you.
At least, that was what you told yourself.
“Can you give me a ride to Chae’s? I took the train here,” Ryujin asked after a moment. “I saw your car out front.”
You were going to regardless. Her brother would have you dead if anything happened to his sister and you were the last one with her. You shrugged, and she knew what your answer was.
As you walked out, Ryujin told you about her day. She and Lia had been holed up in the library, studying with an array of snacks. She was looking forward to the girls’ trip they planned to Jeju Island where the only plan was to relax.
You opened the car door for her, rolling your eyes at her comment of how you were such a gentleman. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this before for her, or for any woman in your life, but coming from her seemed to mean more.
Ryujin plugged in her phone, scrolling for what song to play as you put the car in drive. She chose something slow and mellow, you had never heard it before, but it sounded nice.
A comfortable silence blanketed the car ride. The only noise coming from the speakers as Ryujin kept adding songs to the queue. You mindlessly drove to Chaeryoung’s, eyes focused on the road until the song cut in the middle of the chorus. You checked the screen for an incoming call from Rosie.
“Rosie?” You didn’t miss the slight tilt in Ryujin’s voice, questioning, borderline accusatory. “Answer it. I’ll be quiet.”
You gave her a pointed look, and her head turned out to the window. You didn’t want to, but reluctantly pressed the button.
“Oppa,” Rosie’s voice filled the car. The pitch was low, seductive, the kind of voice that spelled trouble in the best kind of way. “What’re you up to?”
“I’m in the car,” You said, hoping she doesn’t say anything too explicit.
Ryujin shook her head, likely accompanied with an eye roll you couldn’t see. You felt the annoyance roll off her body.
“I miss you,” Rosie said slowly, the obvious reason why she called. “I could use your help with this problem I know you could fix. Do you want to come over?”
“Oh?” Was all you could say. You glanced at the woman next to you, catching the tail end of an eye roll. “Um,” You paused, unsure of how to answer. It was awkward because you had someone in the car with you, but what made it a hundred times more awkward was it was Ryujin. She elbowed you, nodding to respond. “How about I let you know in about ten minutes?”
“You’re going to make me wait?” Rosie lightly teased. “Fine. I’m, like, really horny,” Naturally forward in situations like this, “So I’ll be touching my—”
“Got it, Chaeng,” You rushed out before she could finish her sentence. “I’ll call you. Bye.” You ended the call, sending a sheepish smile to Ryujin as she rolled her eyes.
You should explain, though you couldn’t reason why. It almost felt like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t be, guilt weighing on your shoulders when it was normal to have a noncommittal relationship with a woman who saw sex the same way—just that.
You had met Rosie, or Chaeyoung depending on the day, a few months back while you were out with one of your colleagues. Lisa introduced you since Rosie came with Jennie—the love of Lisa’s life—and simply got to talking. She had a high-stress job that gave her no room for a relationship, and she had no inclination to be in one. Your life was the complete opposite, but you also shared the sentiment on dating.
Things had progressed after a couple drinks. A few intentional touches on your hand. Her body somehow closer than it started. At one point, her hand rested on your thigh as Lisa told a story.
You ended the night sleeping together. It was the right amount of casualness that, the morning after, led to Rosie proposing it as a regular thing with the no strings attached clause. You saw nothing wrong with it as it was a means to a biological end.
Yet you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you did something wrong as Ryujin remained silent the rest of the drive. She didn’t bother to touch her phone to change the song or check any messages. She was just there, blankly staring outside the window as the street lights flickered across her face.
You approached Chaeryoung’s building, pulling up to the curb as you put the car in park. You unbuckled your seatbelt, but Ryujin was faster, opening the door before you could make your way around.
“Hey,” You called after her as soon as you got out of the car. She was already a couple meters away when she stopped to turn around. “I’m sorry.” You had nothing to apologize for, but you felt the need to.
Ryujin’s shoulder dropped, and her expression softened. She waited until you met her on the sidewalk before she spoke, “For what?” She kept her voice steady, emotionless even.
“Just,” You awkwardly gestured to your car, “For that phone call. You shouldn’t have heard any of it.”
There was a trace of emotion you couldn’t discern, but it vanished before you could. She shrugs, lazily tilting her head slightly backward, “It’s whatever. I told you to answer it anyways.”
You apologized again, and Ryujin brushed it off. There was still that inkling of doubt, but you didn’t say anymore. You were walking a thin line of what she said versus what she actually meant. You took it at face value.
You perched yourself on the small brick wall, stretching your legs out as you waited for Chaeryoung to open the door. Ryujin mentioned something about the connection being down so the building occupants weren’t able to open the door remotely.
“Just go. You don’t have to wait,” Ryujin reached for your hands, attempting to pull you up. When you didn’t budge, her arms slacken, but her hands still held yours. She stepped in closer, nearly standing in between your legs. “You have to make a phone call.”
“Do you want me to?” You asked bluntly. Tired of the internal struggle your mind was in, you had to know. Her eyes widened, surprised, which told you that you were right, something was wrong.
You couldn’t explain what was happening, but whatever shred of decency you had was slipping. Whatever line you drew for yourself when it came to Ryujin was crossed, blurred, erased, as she kept her eyes on you.
“Well,” Ryujin dropped your hands, crossing her arms over her chest, “If I said no?”
“Then I send her a text and I go home,” You answered honestly. You’d like to think you were a decent guy, doing your best to keep your word.
“And if I said yes?” She moved enough for her hands to rest on your shoulders.
“Then I see where the night takes me.” Even though Rosie's tone in the car made it very clear what your night would entail. Ryujin leaned forward, and your arms snaked around her waist to pull her into you, looking up at her. “So which is it?”
She had never been this close, in your space. The urge to kiss her had never felt so strong, that very same urge you pushed so far down because it was Ryujin. Chaeryoung needed to get down here now before you took the woman in your arms back to yours—final project be damned.
“No,” Pause, “Don’t call her.”
You nodded easily because her eyes promised that it wasn’t going to be with Rosie anymore. It was going to be with her.
“When I get back,” Head leaning forward as she brushed her lips against yours, a sneak peek of what was to come, the contact firing all the nerves in your body. “Wait for me, yeah?”
You were rendered speechless off a barely kiss that by the time your brain started functioning, the door swung open. Ryujin was out of your arms, composed as if whatever the fuck just happened, didn’t.
Chaeryoung stepped outside, a curious look as her eyes darted between you. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Nope,” Ryujin said easily, popping the p as she walked up the steps, leaving you alone. She met her friend at the top. “Thanks for the ride, oppa. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, Ryujin pulled her friend into the building, receiving a curt bye and wave from Chaeryoung as the door shut.
You had to keep your word, but you weren’t sure if she would.
You’d find out soon enough.
--
Ryujin showed up at your apartment a few days later—six to be exact, but it wasn’t like you were keeping track. There was a knock, a barely heard sound that you had to mute your television to be sure.
You were surprised to see her, welcoming her in as you opened the door wide open.
You had minimal contact since you dropped her off at Chaeryoung’s, with small updates on finishing the semester and how the Jeju trip was going. It was more than what you usually send each other, things that didn’t warrant a response. You were inclined to fool yourself into thinking it was her way of making sure you didn’t forget about her.
(You didn’t.
You couldn’t.
Ryujin was all you thought about if you weren’t working.)
You grabbed her luggage from her, putting it to the side. She explained that Yeji dropped her off once they returned. To your surprise again, none of the women questioned why she had to come over especially right after a trip, though she mentioned there were a few raised eyebrows and snickers from Lia and Yuna.
“So,” Ryujin leaned against the wall. You take in her comfortable wardrobe, an oversized hoodie that reminded you of one you hadn’t seen in a while and a simple pair of sweats.
“So.” You broke out into a smile when she rolled her eyes. “How was the trip?”
“Good.” Short answer, not adding anything else, but you watched her carefully. Not wanting to pressure into anything because there weren’t any expectations for this visit. “How have things been at the studio?”
“Good.” You replied the same way, internally smirking when you caught her eyebrow twitch.
“You’re annoying, you know that right?” Ryujin huffed, pushing herself off the wall.
“And yet, you’re here,” You took a small step forward. Your hand twitched to reach out, but kept that under control.
Patience was what you told yourself.
Ryujin moved closer to you, just enough for her to be within reach. That was when you let the restraint go, wrapping an arm around her to have body pressed against yours. She let out a small hmph as you chuckled. Her hands gently pressed on your chest as she looked up.
She nearly stole the breath from your lungs when her eyes met yours. She’s beautiful, something you were always aware of, but being this close, made it seem like you had never really seen her.
“What do you want to do?” You murmured, eyes glancing at her lips. You wondered how she tasted. That kiss, if you could even deem it as one, made you want her.
“Watch this new drama with me?” It was an innocent suggestion, but based on the look in her eyes, it was the complete opposite.
You complied, relaxing your arm to let her walk towards the couch. You couldn’t figure out her angle, and honestly, it didn’t matter. If she wanted to draw this tension out, you would go with it until one of you snapped.
(You hoped it wasn’t going to be you.)
It happened like this.
Ryujin put whatever show she wanted to watch on as you settled on the couch. She scooted a bit, making room, but it was pointless when she curled herself into you, resting her head in the crook of your neck.
The opening credits started as your body relaxed into the cushion. You were hyper aware of Ryujin and all the movements she made. She placed her hand on your stomach, a bit lower than you’d say for cuddling. You did your best to ignore your body’s reaction, your cock stirred as her hand found a new spot on the waistband of your sweats.
One minute your attention was on the television, the next Ryujin was on your lap. She pulled you into a searing kiss that you followed without hesitating, letting out a groan the moment her tongue dipped into your mouth.
The next minute, or however long it was, Ryujin kneeled in between your legs, hand swiftly moving to pull your length out. She didn’t bother with pulling your sweats all the way down, just enough for her to wrap her lips around you.
“Ryujin,” You groaned through gritted teeth, head tilting backwards as her tongue licked around the tip.
It had to have lasted longer than a minute because by the time Ryujin popped your now-erect cock out of her mouth, she was undressed, naked, as she straddled you.
There were too many things happening at once and your brain didn’t have the bandwidth to register it fast enough. You didn’t have time to admire Ryujin’s body because her hand reached for your cock, gently tapping over her clit. And she was soaked. You could probably slide right in between her legs and spontaneously combust because it was all too much. She guided you along her slit, making everything wetter as she teased the tip at her entrance.
Your hands grabbed onto her hips, the muscles pliable as they tightened to bring her body down. You had one thing on your mind and that was Ryujin.
As you tried your best to get her to move, Ryujin leaned forward, lips ghosting your ear, “Do you want to know something?”
You didn’t understand why or how she felt the need to tell you whatever was more pressing than getting inside her as quickly as possible.
“What?” You groaned again as your cock slid in between her lower lips. Your body had a mind of its own, rolling upward for the tip to graze where you need to be at this point.
“Do you really want to know?” The question came out breathy, voice shaking as you tried to pull her down.
You didn’t, but her position was firm. She didn’t budge. “Yes, fuck, tell me.” Your control was slipping fast.
“I’ve thought about this,” Ryujin said as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ve thought about you like this. I always wondered what it’d be like.”
You didn’t share that sentiment, but at this rate with a naked Ryujin squirming on your lap, doing everything to not slide straight down, your imagination ran wild.
“Well, why don’t we find out?” You grunted, frustrated with her teasing.
Ryujin strategically placed your tip, shifting her body slightly forward, at her opening. Heat emanated from the contact and you nearly blew your load, embarrassingly enough. You’d like to believe you had a healthy sex life. One that wasn’t outrageous, but one that you indulge in casually, occasionally, with women. You weren’t a stranger to one night stands, but you tended to be consistent with one person.
“You’re definitely bigger than I imagined,” She slowly, so fucking slowly, inserted you, lowering her body as you were immediately engulfed by her warmth. “I don’t know if you’ll fit. It feels tight.”
“Jagiya,” The nickname fell from your mouth too easily, earning a grin from the woman who literally could do anything to you.
“Jagiya?” Ryujin repeated, tilting her head. “Cute. I didn’t know you thought of me so fondly already.”
Your mind screamed enough, done with her teasing to the point that you needed to take the control back.
(You had none left, but that wasn’t the point.)
In a fluid motion, you switched positions, lifting Ryujin off before she could continue any longer with the torturous pace she tried to set. Her knees fell to the side, and you finally took all of her in.
“You’re…” You had no words. Her skin was soft, yet firm as you ran your hands down her stomach. The muscles flinched at the touch, watching her tilt her head back as you swiped a broad finger through her folds. “Testing me. You have about five seconds to tell me to stop.”
Ryujin smirked, boldly slipping her hand in between your bodies. Delicate fingers wrapped around your girth, aiming the head directly where you were dying to be. “Do it, jagiya.”
Your hands shot to her waist as you sunk in.
The air left your lungs the moment her warmth hugged your length, her legs spread wider as you continued to sink deeper into her. Her hand fell to the side, gripping the cushion as she let out the hottest moan you ever heard. A sound you wanted to hear again.
And again the moment you filled her to the hilt.
You swore you saw the gates of heaven opened up—or hell—welcoming you with a warm, tight hug.
“Okay so better than I imagined,” Ryujin moaned, all breathy, “So fucking better.”
You blanked out, unsure of what reality you fell into. You couldn’t think of anything but her. “Baby,” You groaned as her walls pulsed, throbbing along with your cock. You blew out a breath to keep you from blowing your load.
“You feel better,” Ryujin said slowly, seductively, thick with desire, “But can you fuck me like how I imagined?”
The challenge tapped into a side you didn’t go to often. Hardly ever. A much darker side you only went to with one person before. It hadn’t been seen since.
Yet it was there, on your shoulder, whispering into your ear that Ryujin wanted it. Wanted you and all the debauchery you could bring into her life.
“Don’t tempt me, Jin-yah,” You gritted through your teeth, the voice on your shoulder getting louder as she squirmed in your hold. The movement triggered the nerves in your body, shooting along your spine at the sensation.
“Fuck me,” Ryujin moaned, rolling her body down in a fluid motion. You snapped your hips forward, watching her breasts bounce from the force. “God, yes. Please.”
You slowly, agonizingly, withdrew your cock, leaving just the head nestled in between her folds. You didn’t miss the way she gasped, sharply inhaling, whining at the loss. You saw the way her lower lips pulsed, gripping on the little you left inside her.
“You want me?” You had to hear her say it. You needed her permission before you listened to the devil, praising you for the sins you wanted to commit.
Ryujin eagerly nodded, eyes low as she stared at you. “I want you.”
You thrusted without warning, her body jolting as she bit her lip, stifling a moan.
“I want to hear you,” You grunted with another precise thrust.
This time, Ryujin screamed.
“Fuck,” Your eyes rolled back, choking out, “I want to drown myself in you.”
You moved on pure instinct after that. You focused on Ryujin, her moans, her gasps, her body reacting to yours. You might have lost your sense of reality because she felt too tight, too warm, too good, but she tethered you, guiding you to remind you that what was happening was very real.
You didn’t know how, but you somehow ended up in your room. Ryujin placed a finger on your chest, gently pushing you on the bed. You let her, easily laying back before she straddled your hips.
“My turn,” Ryujin kissed you sweetly on the lips before you were wrapped around her once again.
It happened fast, embarrassingly fast as she rode you into oblivion. You couldn’t help but move with her, meeting her at the perfect time. She fell forward once you hit that spot, bringing her mouth to yours in a messy kiss.
“God,” Ryujin breathed out, “I’m going to—”
“Me too,” You grunted with a quick snap of your hips. You felt her pussy tightening as her pace increased, nearly slamming down on your body. “I—fuck, where?”
How you had the state of mind to ask was beyond you. You wanted to paint her walls white, making sure she was filled with you and then some. Her hands found yours, interlacing them together as she brought your arms over your head.
“In my mouth,” Ryujin said sharply before slyly adding, “But after I cum.”
You didn’t get the chance to formulate a response because Ryujin’s hands let go, perching them on your chest as you watched her hips move dangerously over you. You pathetically whimpered at the sight of your cock disappearing in between her legs. Your stomach tightened as you miserably tried to hold it together, and you almost exploded the moment her inner walls squeezed like vice, sucking the air out of your lungs. Her body froze before violently shaking, the rhythmic pulses had you dizzy with pleasure.
It took everything in you to not cum inside her as you watched her orgasm shatter through her. She nearly sobbed as her nails dug into your chest, the pain heightening all your senses.
You almost shouted when the air hit your cock, the warmth suddenly gone before it was replaced with another kind of warmth, a different kind that had you seeing stars.
“Oh—fuck,” Your hand shot downwards, fingers tangling in Ryujin’s hair. “So fucking good, Jin-yah.”
The praise spurred her on as her throat constricted around your length, catching you off guard that you couldn’t stop your orgasm any more. Hot thick ropes shot out of you without warning. Ryujin slightly gagged, causing you to thrust into her mouth as you pushed her head down more.
That was the hardest you ever came, and Ryujin drained you into her mouth without any complaint, any resistance. Once it subsided, the grip on her hair slackened, arm falling off to the side, as your eyes fell shut. You vaguely heard her choke, heavily breathing, that you barely opened your eyes to see a small dribble of your essence drip down her chin. You didn’t miss the way her throat moved, swallowing your release without asking.
Ryujin’s eyes opened slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips as your eyes met. Her jaw lowered, seeing all pink with pearly white teeth with no trace of you anywhere.
“So?” You said after a moment, catching your breath. She placed a soft kiss on your stomach before crawling back on top of you, laying her head sweetly on your chest. “Better than your imagination?”
“You have no idea,” Ryujin answered softly, affectionately, lips kissing your neck.
-- --
You fell into some sort of routine with Ryujin.
She waited till you were done with clients at the studio, waited till your work station was clean, waited for you while Ryuseong teased you both.
You didn’t ask her to, but there was some part of you that was glad she did.
Some nights ended the way the first day did while others ended falling asleep, cuddled underneath the blanket, wrapped around each other while you shared things you never spoke of.
There was this part of you that wanted to ask her out, like on a date, in public, not restricted to the four walls of your apartment. You could hardly count takeaways with a drama queued as a ‘date.’
You weren’t even sure if whatever was going on was something serious or something just for fun. With the amount of time you spent with her, the more it felt serious.
-- --
“You’re going to the opening right?” Yuna asked as she walked through the door, exiting the restaurant, arms interlocked with Ryujin.
“It’s my brother’s second tattoo shop in Itaewon,” Ryujin answered, “And the tenth anniversary of his first one, of course I will.”
“It’ll be nice,” Yeji added next to you. “Oppa said there’s going to be a DJ too.”
You had just finished dinner, paid by you, which wasn't a big deal. You tended to pay for things when you were out with Ryujin and her friends. It sort of just happened when before you and Ryujin slept together, things would be split evenly among the group. They were surprised the first time, shocked even, that you paid without them knowing. They wanted to give you their share, but you brushed them off, giving an excuse that they were still in school and their money should be saved. The girls began talking about their semester starting in a few weeks.
You stayed back a little, opting for a quick nicotine fix before you spend the rest of your evening with Ryujin. She wanted to finish the drama you had been watching together. You didn’t want to hover, or have the smoke in their faces.
You noticed Ryujin turned her head slightly backward, ensuring you were still behind them. You held up the vape pen she forced you to buy because she wasn’t the biggest fan of cigarettes. You never thought you’d give them up, the short-lived high wasn’t the same, but for her, you found yourself switching over.
(The smile on her face after she kissed you one night when she didn’t taste the bitterness of tobacco was a choice you didn’t mind doing.)
Ryujin rolled her eyes, falling back into the conversation as you took a long drag. You held the air, letting the poison sit in your body, before you blew the air out, the slight tilt of your head back as the smoke filled your vision. The rush didn’t have the same effect, but it was enough for you to relax your body.
You listened in on their discussion, something about the classes they were taking. Ryujin told you her schedule once she found out, saying she wouldn’t be at the shop as much with final year projects and such. She seemed a bit annoyed at that, but convinced you to pick her up when she needed it. It didn’t take much, but she promised she wouldn’t inconvenience you—she was never one to begin with.
You took another drag, tuning the chatter out, when Yuna mentioned something that caught your attention. It was a simple question about some boy named Haein? from what you could hear without being nosey, that she directed to Ryujin.
“Yuna-yah,” Ryujin lightly scolded, shaking her head, “I already told you. I’m not interested in him.”
“You went out with him twice, and from what Lia’s heard, you keep avoiding him and won’t answer any of his calls,” The information stung because you hadn’t realized this was happening. You knew Ryujin had a life outside of hanging out at her brother’s studio and spending nights with you, but you would have wanted to know. “Twice seems pretty interested.”
The vape pen was brought to your lips reflexively, breathing in deeply to tamper the sudden ache behind your ribcage. You were never a controlling person in a relationship, so you didn’t know what to do with this feeling. Something akin to jealousy, but closer to hurt.
You heard Yeji mumble Yuna not now as she glanced at you. You met her eyes, a sad pitying look that you shrugged. You needed to remember that nothing was established, nothing said you were together, but everything screamed differently.
“Oppa,” Yuna turned around, yanking her companion to face you in the middle of the street. “What do you think? Does it seem like unnie’s interested? You know her well enough.”
You tucked your vape pen into your pocket, glancing at Ryujin as you chose your words carefully. “I don’t think anything. She’s allowed to do what she wants,” Was what you came up with. You didn’t miss the way the woman in question tensed, and you weren’t sure if Yuna noticed. If she did, it wasn’t acknowledged.
“Oh come on,” Yuna rolled her eyes, and by the way her gaze rolled back to you, you were going to be challenged. “How would you feel if someone you went out a couple times with, and it all went well, kept dodging your calls?”
“I’d let it be,” You shrugged, indifferent to the hypothetical situation, “They have their own life. I’d be a little sad, but I can’t force them to want to spend time together.” You hoped that answer would suffice, tacking on a subtle dig to Ryujin.
“See, Yuna, now drop—”
The youngest cut in before Yeji could finish her sentence, “Ugh, boring. Where’s the chase? The back and forth? The pining?”
“I don’t have time for that,” You said bluntly, trying not to sound too harsh. You were starting to get irritated. “I’m generally upfront about how I feel and what I want when I’m with someone. If they just want to fuck, fine I’m in. If they want something more serious and I feel the same way, I tell them.”
“And what if it’s reversed?” The questions didn’t stop. All these hypotheticals that never directly translate into practice. “What if you want something more serious and they don’t feel the same way? What do you do then?”
You got the feeling there was an underlying agenda. It was like she was searching for an answer. It hit a little too close. You didn’t want to be the first to show your hand with Ryujin right there.
“Then it ends,” You said simply, reaching for your pocket. You desperately wanted
“That simple?” Yuna raised an eyebrow, even crossing her arms with Ryujin still wrapped around.
You had always been in tune with Ryujin’s emotions, and you saw her eyebrow twitch—a clear sign she was starting to get annoyed. “Unfortunately yeah,” Shrugging, “I’m not going to waste time with someone that doesn’t feel the same way if things are heading in that direction. Might as well save both of us the pain.”
Yuna dropped the topic, rolling her eyes at the honesty. It wasn’t like you could be anything else. You couldn’t—wouldn’t—lie or lead someone on if the intentions weren’t the same. She pulled Ryujin to continue walking while Yeji shot you another sympathetic smile, mouthing sorry before following after.
It left you alone, frozen, at these feelings you inadvertently developed. It was naive to think otherwise since you spent a lot of time with her these days, especially intimately. It hit you like a brick wall, crashing down on you as you couldn’t fathom the idea that she felt the same.
You couldn’t dwell on it too much—not the time nor place—because Ryujin’s voice called your name, that soft, affectionate way she did when you laid underneath the covers, wrapped around each other. You looked up, seeing her eyebrows furrowed. You gave a lazy smile, though she didn’t look like she believed you.
You weren’t even sure you believed yourself.
--
“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asked quietly as she pulled away, seated on your lap with your back pressed against the headboard.
“Nothing.” You averted your eyes to anywhere else, but it was hard with her in front of you. You felt her gaze, but avoided it. The floor seemed a lot more interesting anyways.
“Was it because of what Yuna said?” She didn’t believe it was nothing. “Don’t take her seriously. She’s just nosey, always in my business about who I’m dating or not.”
You hated yourself for the next words that came out, “But are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Dating anyone,” You mumbled, briefly meeting her eyes.
“I mean no?” That answer did nothing but grow the black hole in your stomach. “Not officially at least. A few dates here and there, but nothing that I see serious.”
You appreciated her honesty. She seemed so casual about it—sleeping with you while going on dates. The situation itself was a conundrum because what did that mean for you? Were you just someone she slept with? Were you keeping her away from finding the one? Were you more than just a fuck?
You had to know, “So who am I then?”
Ryujin tilted her head, curiously staring at your face. You felt vulnerable, unsure of what your expression portrayed, because you were sure she figured it out.
“What do you mean?” She said it slowly, carefully, as if whatever you say next could alter the course of your relationship.
You couldn’t believe you had to spell it out for her. “Like, what does that mean? You go off on dates with all these guys, yet you come to me after? Am I just a fuck?” It borderlined on desperation, the words falling out. “Am I someone you want to date?”
You watched as she swung her leg over, moving to sit next to you. You shook your head, already knowing where this conversation was going.
“I like spending time with you.”
“But being at the shop and then falling into bed with me, that’s how you spend time with me.” A pang shot through your chest. It ached enough for you to scratch over your shirt, self-soothing the pain to go away. “You don’t want to do anything else?”
“Did you?” This whole answering a question with a question was about to push you off the edge. “I’m being serious. Did you? I came into this thinking you just wanted to get your dick wet since you had Rosie.” You heard the disdain at the mention of your previous lover. “I didn’t think you wanted more than that.”
“I didn’t either,” You confessed, sighing dejectedly. “It’s crazy, and a fucking cliche of all things, to develop feelings like this. It’s okay. No hard feelings.”
“Wait—” You didn’t want to hear anymore, so you stood up, reaching for the shirt that was thrown on the ground. Your heart dropped, aching, scratching at your rib cage as your chest tightened. You quickly slipped it on. “You like me?”
You forced a smile, “I do, and it’s okay that you never thought of this like that. It is, it really is. I just don’t think I could keep doing it.”
You gathered the rest of your things while Ryujin called out your name, telling you to don’t go. You were glad her apartment was vacant. With Lia visiting family in Canada, she offered her place since you spent most of the time at yours.
You were halfway out the door when you turned around to Ryujin, still in the same position. It broke your heart to leave, but you had no other choice.
Clean break right?
Should make things easier right?
“You definitely don’t deserve to call yourself someone to just get my dick wet,” The vulgarity had you grimacing, “Because I never thought of you as that. Not in the slightest.”
You left before Ryujin could respond, the steps heavier the closer you get to the front door. It went from zero to sixty, and it gnawed at you to stay.
That simple right?
You ate your earlier words because this was not a clean break. This did not make things easier. This was complicated in all the worst ways.
-- -- --
You send a message to your cousin, thanking him for his quick response on letting you stay with him in the states for a couple months. Lisa appears with Jennie in tow and drinks in hand as the party’s in full swing.
“Who are you texting?” Lisa asks, placing your drink on the table as they take their seats across from you.
“My cousin,” You answer, distracted with the flurry of messages he sends. He’s excited because he’ll finally have someone to go out with, needing a wingman since his friends were—in his words—boring.
“I still can’t believe you’re going to be gone for almost a year,” Lisa takes a sip from her glass. “How’d Ryuseong take it?”
Your mentor took the news as better than you hoped. He was surprised, but expected it. You couldn’t help but think he knew that you had been sleeping with his sister for the past few months. He wouldn’t say anything when she was around you, but he’d raise an eyebrow whenever she got a little closer than friendly.
You hastily decided a couple days after ‘ending’ your arrangement with Ryujin that you’d travel a bit while tattooing at places that would take you. A couple cities in the states were planned along with Tokyo and Melbourne. You were still waiting to hear back from your friend in London while close to finalizing spending a month or so in Paris.
It would be good for you, as Ryuseong said once you told him your plans. He even helped put you in contact with some of his connections to let you work with them for a nominal fee. He reassured you that you’d always have a place to work whenever you were in the country, half-joking that you’d be managing the shops when you returned for good.
“Good. He’s happy for me, I think,” You scratch your head. “Bummed that I won’t be around, but he gets it. He suggested doing this a while ago.”
“But why now?” Jennie asks curiously. Her girlfriend gently elbows her, shooting her a warning look. “What? I don’t know enough about his life.”
“It’s fine,” You wave Lisa off. “Just some things happened that made me rethink what I want.”
Jennie glances behind you, “Like with a girl?” You’re about to turn around when her hand reaches out, shaking her head, “Just an observation because there’s been a girl looking at you since you got here.”
“It’s complicated,” You mumble, fingers curling around the glass.
“Well,” Jennie smirks, “It’s about to get more complicated.”
“What do you—” The question dies on your lips before Jennie stands abruptly, squealing at whoever just appeared.
“Chaeng!”
Oh.
Here we fucking go.
--
You push the door open, breathing in the fresh air since the venue was suffocating with the amount of people that showed up. It was a bigger turnout than you expected, but Ryuseong knew a lot of people.
You pat your pockets as you search for the cigarette package. You relapsed into the original vice since Ryujin was no longer in the picture. You excused yourself from the debate Rosie and Lisa were having over the best restaurant for tteokbokki takeaway, earning a glare from the latter because she wanted you to quit, but oh well.
You pull the lighter out, sticking the cigarette in between your lips. There isn’t much foot traffic so you opt for a short walk to the alley around the corner.
You inhale, catching the flame as the nicotine rush flows through your veins. You’ve been drinking, so it’s definitely a nice sensation, leaving you lightheaded as you gain your footing.
Ryuseong gave a small speech, thanking everyone for showing up and their support over the years. He even announced your small departure, wishing you good luck that garnered a small applause from the crowd. You politely bowed, waving to those nearby, while Lisa ruffled your hair.
It has overall been a nice night.
You have no complaints. You have a couple days left in Seoul, and this is probably the last time you’ll see most of your friends. Lisa tentatively—forcefully—planned a dinner that you had no choice to go to. Rosie gave you a playful smile when she saw you, even kissing you briefly on the cheek. You were alone with her for a moment while the couple went to get more drinks, and she teased you for ghosting her, but ultimately understood once you explained the situation.
“Water under the bridge, yeah?” Rosie smiled behind her martini glass, “No worries. We’re fine.”
Though, when you told her that things ended, she rolled her eyes. “She has to have some feelings for you, and maybe she’s too naive to realize it, but I don’t know of any girl that has ever went out on dates and then fucked the same guy after them for there to be no feelings.”
You didn’t want to comment on that, but Rosie asked if the girl was here. She was always perceptive, sensing your hesitation before answering. She dramatically rolled her eyes again at the exact moment Lisa and Jennie returned. They asked what you were talking about, and Lisa stupidly said it was Ryujin.
“She looks like she wants to rip my head off,” Rosie chuckled, tilting her head in what you assumed was Ryujin’s general location. “If you want to have fun tonight, let me know. It could be one last hurrah before you leave.”
You smile to yourself as you take another drag, thinking about Rosie’s proposal. You didn’t have anything to lose, so you are highly considering it. You always had fun with her, so why not? There’s nothing holding you back.
At least, that is, until you hear a heated conversation a few meters down the alley.
Naturally, you look up.
You hadn’t actually crossed paths with Ryujin this whole evening. Whether it was her avoiding you or you subconsciously steering clear, you only saw her from afar.
You would be able to recognize her a mile away and here she is with some boy in her face, towering over her. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. You don’t need to get involved because Ryujin has always been capable of taking care of herself. Though for your peace of mind, you walk closer to where they are.
“Is everything alright?” Your voice breaks whatever tension as his head snaps in your direction, letting the cigarette rest in between your lips.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” He answers, pulling back slightly as his other hand drops. The question wasn’t directed towards him as you watch Ryujin stand up straight. She doesn’t say anything, which she doesn’t need to. “Let’s go Ryujin.”
As Ryujin starts to walk toward you, the boy grabs her wrist, jerking her body backwards. You wait again, watching it unfold before you have to step in. Because you will, something Ryujin is very aware of.
“Let go,” She says quietly, warningly, more for the boy’s sake. He doesn’t, stupidly, as his grip tightens, causing her to wince. “Ow, you’re hurting me.”
Within seconds, you’re in between them, hand chopping through as you stand in front of Ryujin.
“She said let go.” You say quietly, calm and composed.
“Who the hell are you?” The boy spits back, stepping into your space, even bumping his shoulder against your chest.
“Haein,” Ryujin hisses, hoping he gets the message. She knows your temper, and she knows how protective you are, especially when it involves her. “Just let go.”
This must be the boy Yuna was going on about that night. Interesting. He didn’t seem like Ryujin’s type, but what did you know when it came to her ‘type.’
“Seriously, listen to her,” The cigarette falls to the ground.
“I’m not going to take orders from some stranger,” Haein says sharply, yanking Ryujin forward. He must have no spatial awareness because you’re still in between them and the small yelp she lets out has you reaching for his arm. “What the—”
Your other hand swings clear across his face as he collapses to the ground. You might’ve heard the sound of bone cracking, but you didn’t care. “Told you,” You mutter, tapping his stomach with your foot as he flinches.
“Oppa,” Ryujin sighs, shaking her head. “I can take care of myself.”
You barely hear her, crouching down to his level, “For what it’s worth, every time she went out with you, she spent the night with me.” You’re still drunk, and the words come out without much thought. It’s rubbing salt in the wound, but at this rate, you don’t care.
“Oppa!” Ryujin grabs you by your jacket collar, pulling you up with enough force that you stumble, “What the fuck?”
You shake her off, straightening your clothes out, “What? Is it not true? You’re welcome by the way,” You turn to walk away, but her hand encloses over your wrist. “Ryujin,” You deadpan when you face her.
“You’re such a fucking ass,” Ryujin steps closer, her body pressed against yours. “Why would you even say that?” She gestures to Haein, who’s still on the ground, groaning in pain.
“For fun,” You reply sarcastically, smirking as you shake her hand off. “Have a great night.”
This time, Ryujin lets you go. You’re pissed off, and it’s a recipe for disaster if you stay any longer. Things are still fresh. You’re nursing a heartache and leaving in less than 48 hours, so probably in both your best interests, it’s not worth it to fight or argue or get into things.
Ryujin did not share that same thought process because you feel two smaller hands on your back, pushing you off balance. Your reflexes are impaired, but you’re fast enough to catch yourself from falling flat on your face.
“Ryujin, what the fuck,” You had never turned around so fast. Your relationship, or whatever the fuck it was, had never been physical, explosive, and the ironic part was that this turned you on. “What’s your problem?” You growl, eyes narrowing.
She never backed down from a challenge, hearing the countless, mindless arguments she would have with her friends over game rules and the sarcastic remarks she’d throw at Ryuseong whenever he did something.
You get pushed again, but it doesn’t do much. You remain stable, unmoving as the two hands on your chest curl into fists, her head dropping.
“You don’t get to fucking,” Hands hitting hard into your chest after each word, “Throw what we did together in someone else’s face.” The power of the punches weakens at the end. She almost seems defeated.
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, “And what did we do, Jin-yah? We fucked more than enough times, but that’s all it was, right?” You’re being petty, borderline spiteful, with the venom you were spewing out.
It’s not a surprise when Ryujin’s hand comes clear across your face because it was very much deserved, but that doesn't mean it didn’t hurt. Your cheek stung from the force, eyes snapping to her heated glare.
“Fuck you.”
“Time and place, jagiya.” You’re definitely an asshole for using the name you’d call her when it was just you two, a name she’d shyly blush to. “I’m leaving in a couple days, so why not send me off with a bang?”
It’s a taunt, a fib, a put your money where your mouth is kind of situation. You might be riled up, the slightest bit horny too, but you don’t think she’ll actually go through it.
If it wasn’t dark in the alley, you would’ve seen the wheels turning, the pros and cons weighing in her mind, seriously considering it. You could’ve put a stop to it right then and there, walking away from the argument, walking away from her until whenever you’d see her next.
But you were drunk, too eager to be in her presence, too starved that you’d let her abuse you just to feel her touch, that you missed all of that completely.
Ryujin calls your bluff, “Fine. I live nearby, and Lia’s sleeping over Yeji’s tonight.”
What?
You watch her face form into a cheshire grin. You could only imagine the expression you have because she leans away, stepping out of the space, tilting her head.
“Come on, yeobo.” Ryujin tosses the name she used for you, “I’ll make it worth your while,” She takes a slow step backwards, running a hand through her hair.
You gulp, nodding like the fool that you were whenever it came to Ryujin. She could easily control you, and you knew that. Call it being a pushover, but you had a soft spot for her. A part that was an advantage to you both, especially when it came to matters of intimacy.
You start to walk, hands reaching for her when you get closer. You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her body in. Your face nuzzles into her hair, whispering, “Are you sure?”
Ryujin chuckles before answering yes because she explicitly states she needs to fuck the frustration you’ve caused her in the past ten minutes.
“Let’s go,” She stands on her tippy toes, lips brushing against your jaw.
Your cheeks heat up at the contact, a small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.
--
Ryujin’s apartment was generally off limits, coming over less than a handful of times. Lia tended to stay home so coming over wasn’t an option, especially with how loud you both would get. It was more of a respect thing. Maybe a privacy thing too, but that was between you and Ryujin.
You couldn’t look around too much because Ryujin was on you once the door shut. She (literally) jumped on you, wrapping her legs around your waist, mouth landing perfectly on yours as she kissed you with a fervor you never experienced. It caught you off guard, knocking you off balance that you had to steady yourself against the wall. Something might have fallen off the entryway table, but neither of you paid attention to it as she shrugged your jacket off.
Leading you to your knees digging into the hardwood with your head in between her legs. You don’t know how long it’s been, but your tongue has been moving which way and every way thoroughly between her lower lips without any release. She’s getting impatient, based on the way her hips jolt with your nose brushing against her clit.
“Answer the question,” You murmur against her pussy, chin slick with wetness as you stare up at her. With her head thrown back, she doesn’t see you prompting you to continue with your task.
You’re being mean, not letting her cum until she answers a curious question. Though, she’s not being forthcoming either on giving an answer so it seems fair to put her through tortuous strokes of your tongue.
“What fucking question?” Ryujin snaps, hips rolling forward as you pull away. “Get back there.”
“You know,” You blow gently at her clit as her body shivers, hands bunching the bedsheet, “If you slept with what’s his face.”
“None of your fucking business,” She says weakly as you stick your tongue in between her folds. “Why do you care if I did?” She manages to get out, panting as you gently bite an outer lip.
“Just wanted to know if he was able to make you this wet,” You answer simply, tongue trailing lower to an untouched area—at least by you specifically.
“What’re you even—oh!” Ryujin gasps once your tongue invades the puckered hole, tensing as you dip in. “I’ve never—fuck.”
You lean back, and you’re met with a heated gaze from the woman sprawled out on her bed. You smirk, even licking your lips as she extends a leg to put you back where you belong.
“God can you just fuck me already?” Ryujin snaps, eyes glaring as you don’t budge.
“Answer the fucking question,” You say while unbuckling your belt. You spring out of your pants, immediately seeing the tent formed from your boxer briefs.
“No he didn’t make me this wet,” Her hands reach for the waistband, shoving your underwear down. You let out a groan, hips moving forward, as her fingers wrap around your cock. “He made me cum though.”
You roll your eyes, withdrawing yourself away from Ryujin. She lets out a small whine. “Go fuck him then.”
It’s an empty threat. A bluff. You and her know that at the end of the night it’ll be you doing all the things he did and more. You want her, and well, she wants you. That hasn’t changed even if it has been a few weeks. There hasn’t been anyone since either on your end. Sure you could say you were jealous, but she’s with you right now.
Not him.
There’s a sick part of you that wants to make her work for it, but you’re impatient, eager, to remind her of the time spent together. This could very much be the last time, which tugs at your heart, but you might as well make it worth it.
You’re about to lose your mind anyways.
Though, Ryujin seems like she’s just about there since you’d be teasing her for a while, edging her to the breaking point that she automatically turns over on her stomach, raising her hips that has your mouth watering.
“Baby,” She shakes her hips side-to-side, arching her back as she presents herself more, “You know he could never fuck me the way you do.”
Without thinking, you swat your hand down, an easy flick of the wrist, palm connecting to skin that resulted in a resonating sound through the room. Ryujin moans, hips rolling backward as you withdraw your arm.
“How do I know that?” You ask absentmindedly, watching as she attempts to grind herself on you. You rest your hand on her lower back, halting any movement. Bending forward as your other hand pushes your pants to drop around your ankles, you get close enough that her head drops back. “Prove it,” You murmur, gently nipping at her ear.
Ryujin’s hand snakes between your bodies, and when her fingers wrap around you once again, you don’t fight it. She guides your length to her entrance. Your body shivers once the tip makes contact, magnifying how wet she is.
“You’re dripping,” You grunt, mesmerized by the way she slides your cock in between her folds.
“For you,” Ryujin moans when she slides backwards to take you in, “Only for you.”
You’re moaning with her, watching, feeling the initial tightness engulf part of your cock. It’s a sensory overload that your hips slightly thrust to get deeper. It’s a lot to take in after not being with her like this.
And fuck you missed her.
You tell her so, head falling backwards as she continues to take you in. She sucks in a breath at the confession. Your hands find her hips, gripping tightly as you pull her along your cock. She’s practically keening at the stretch while you’re holding everything in to not thrust all the way in.
“Ryujin, slow down,” You say through gritted teeth, air leaving your lungs as she takes you without giving you a moment to breathe. “Baby.”
“Please,” Ryujin begs, shaking her hips as you feel yourself sink deeper into her. “Fuck me, I missed you.”
It’s all too overwhelming. The reciprocated confession. The warmth of her pussy wrapped around you has you seeing stars. Adding on how tight and wet she is, you’re about to bust.
“Tell me again,” You slowly withdraw your hips, peeking at how soaked you are, her slick dripping down your thighs.
“I missed you.”
And you thrust back in, earning a filthy moan escaping her lips. Whatever sense of control you had snapped, the want—the sudden need—to make up for lost time.
You choose long and deep strokes, ensuring you’re hitting every single nerve inside her body. You keep a steady tempo, letting the moans and pants that fall from her guide you. You can’t help but sound off with her, groaning and grunting as she moves with you.
It’s an easy rhythm to fall back into, especially with how familiar you are with her body. You know every spot, inside and out, that could have her lose her mind.
“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” Ryujin lulls her head back, resting against your shoulder.
The change in position has your lips against her ear, teeth biting and nearly snarling as you keep the consistent pace. The sound of your skin clapping echoes throughout her room that you pray there’s some kind of proofing. At least to muffle her voice because your ears are ringing.
You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth, so swept up in the moment, so swept up in her, that you tell her how much you’ve missed feeling her pussy around you, how she’s taking you so well, how she’s going to make you release if she kept squeezing your cock like a vice.
“Do it.”
That wasn’t the response you expected.
Not by a long shot.
Every time you and Ryujin had sex, you’d ask where she wanted it. Half the time, it would be in her mouth. The other half would be over her body because she thought it was hot, and well, you agreed. You entertained the idea of marking her as yours, but there was one way you hadn’t.
You’ve come inside women before. It was usually your long-term girlfriends, and that one-off who swore they were safe. No child has appeared at your door yet, so there’s that. With Ryujin, you never asked—it wasn’t your place to. You wouldn’t assume so because you weren’t dating. There was that possessive side of you that wanted to, but you were being selfish.
So this was new.
“Wh-what?” You stutter, hips ceasing all movement. Ryujin doesn’t like that, whining, squirming with your cock inside her. She gasps as you hit spots you hadn’t before. There’s a delicious friction of her walls hugging, pulsing, around you. “Jin-yah, whoa, slow down. I’m going to cum if you keep moving like that.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Ryujin moans loudly at one particular spot. Her body moves on its own accord for your cock to keep brushing against it.
“No.” You’re trying to say something, but Ryujin feels so good that you resume your movement, meeting her in perfect sync. Her hips snap downward, adding a motion you aren’t expecting, and it has you seeing stars when her clit brushes against you. The coil tightens in your lower abdomen, a tell-tale sign that you’re really close. “Jagiya,” You hardly recognize your own voice. “I don’t know if–fuck,” She does a nasty move that sucks the breath from your lungs, “Where do you want it?”
You wanted to hear it again. You needed to hear it again, to make sure you weren’t imagining it.
“Inside,” Ryujin commands through a moan, as you continue to pound into her. Her breathing staccatos with each thrust as she repeated the word over and over, begging you because she wants the feeling of you painting her walls. After one particularly hard thrust, her body violently shakes, convulsing as her orgasm washes over, pussy pulsating and tightening over your cock like never before, that a sentence slips from her mouth, “Be the first to cum inside me.”
Ryujin hits the nail on the coffin as you lose control over your body, hips jackhammering into her as the coil in your stomach snaps, back seizing erratically as hot, thick white ropes flood her without warning.
“Oh, oh that feels–fuck.” Ryujin’s too cockdrunk to finish a sentence, and you’re too pussydrunk to even hear her. You don’t know what’s going on down there, but you swear her pussy’s milking you for all you have, walls massaging your cock that you fall forward, taking her with you. You snap your hips one, two, three, four times, before another orgasm releases into her.
“Mine,” You snarl into her ear, lightly humping into her to make sure every part of her is filled. You repeat the word like a mantra and she nods, mumbling a blissed out yours.
The climax eventually subsides, but your positions haven’t changed. You gently grind, garnering soft, weak moans from the woman beneath you. You don’t want to pull out, but the overstimulation is creeping in. Reluctantly, you do so, slowly withdrawing your cock to not hurt her. You grin at the small whine she lets out, but you soothe her with a kiss behind the ear.
You push yourself up to inspect the mess you made, and your cock twitches at the white liquid dripping from her folds. You stare for a second too long because an airy chuckle sounds off before Ryujin’s small fingers slide underneath, slipping in between the lower lips, pushing what’s fallen out back in.
“Baby.” It comes out as a warning, a borderline plea, that she stops, giggling that dispels the wave of lust from taking over. You roll your eyes, rolling off her body and laying next to her.
Ryujin turns to face you, slotting a leg in between yours, as she scoots closer. You take her hands in yours, bringing them to your chest. She speaks first, “That was…an experience.”
“A good one?” You ask softly, eyes meeting hers.
“Definitely.” Ryujin sighs dreamily, eyes closing before she drops her head slightly.
“Am I really the only person to ever do that?” You watch her eyes open again, an indiscernible look that drops before you realize the answer.
Ryujin nods shyly, biting her lip, “We’re safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You shake your head, slightly offended that’s what she first assumed. She must’ve seen your expression change. “Did you not want to?”
You shake your head again. “No, I did,” Sighing, “It’s just we’ve never done that. And you’ve never done that. I don’t want to take something like that from you. It’s…intimate.” That’s the only word that comes to mind.
“Who said I didn’t want that with you?”
“Well, we aren’t a couple,” You mumble before glancing away. Pushing on with a little more confidence, “You made it clear we weren’t.” It sounded pathetic.
“Did you want to be?” Her questions are starting to kill your mood. You let go of her hands, sitting up abruptly. “Stop,” Her hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you back before you could leave (again.) “I’m being serious. I was serious.”
“Ryujin,” You deadpan, head falling on the pillow as you stare at the ceiling. “Yes, I did. I still do,” You cover your face in embarrassment.
“Can you look at me?” Ryujin tries to remove your arms so she could see your face. She’s successful in that aspect, but you turn away. “You’re acting like a child.”
“So,” You pout, avoiding her gaze.
“You’re a dumb dumb,” Ryujin says fondly, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”
You ask for clarification because ‘hopes up’ for what exactly. Ryujin looks away this time, taking a breath before telling you she’s always had a crush on you. She explains it likely developed within the first year of meeting you. Ryuseong had noticed, teasing her at home because that’s what older brothers do. She vehemently denied any feelings, but when you brought Nayeon around, she realized it wasn’t a crush.
“You’re older than me, and at that point, I didn’t know how to get you to see me more than Ryuseong’s little sister.” You hear the bitterness in her voice.
“You’ve always been Ryujin to me,” You reassure sweetly, sliding your arm under to pull her into you. You peck the side of her head. “You know I’ve always looked out for you.”
“But I wanted you to look at me. The way you looked at Nayeon-unnie,” Ryujin buries her face into the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin.
“I’ve been for the past few months,” You whisper, tilting her head gently with two fingers on her chin. Bringing your lips down to hers, mumbling I mean it.
“You’re leaving.” She pulls away, flicking your nose.
“For almost a year.”
“Admit it’s because of me.”
“It’s because of you.” You comply because she’s most of the reason why in the first place.
“I’m claiming you as mine.”
“We haven’t even been on a date yet.”
“Then when you get back, you take me out on a date.”
“Isn’t that a little backwards to go on a date after having sex?”
“You came inside me.”
“I’ve never been conventional,” You sweep her body underneath yours, her legs easily spreading.
“I feel it leaking,” Ryujin murmurs as she tilts her head back.
“That’s hot,” Your voice shakes at the memory of cumming inside of her a few minutes ago, body reacting tenfold that you’re ready to go again. “Can I do it again?”
“Because I’m yours?” Her tongue slips in between your lips, swallowing the moan.
“Mine.”
-- --
After eleven months, you’re finally back in Seoul.
A lot happened that you were grateful for the experience. You met a lot of people while most importantly, perfecting your craft. You weren’t expecting to make a lot, but you made more than enough to book an earlier flight.
You planned to return at the end of February, but you wanted to surprise Ryujin for her graduation. She was disappointed you wouldn’t be there, but was excited for your arrival. Little did she know, you’d be meeting her right after the ceremony. Thanks to the help from Yeji and Lia.
You and Ryujin agreed you liked each other, wanting to be a couple, but kept things open since you would be thousands of miles away. You couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold for you, nor did she want you to do that either. She gave you clear instructions to do whatever you wanted with whoever you wanted as long as you told her about it.
Well, nothing happened with anyone. Sure, you went out with people and there was some interest from women—even men, but you felt too strongly for Ryujin to give them any attention. You were loyal to a fault, and no one could change your mind. There were some that definitely tried.
You had just enough time to drop off your luggage at your parents’ house, greeting them quickly before your mother could yell at you for looking too thin. Ryuseong texted you where they’d be and that they’d save you a seat.
You’re slightly late.
You didn’t want to show up with a motorcycle helmet, so you opted for public transportation. You didn’t account for the train delay, which gave you little time to mingle once you met with Ryuseong and the parents.
“Hi,” You politely bow, feet shuffling over the other attendees as you plop yourself on the empty seat next to Ryuseong. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to take my bike.”
Ryuseong chuckles, shaking his head as he dismisses your apology. He mentions that he’s glad you’re back before the lights dim. You couldn’t exactly get into things, but you would later on.
The ceremony goes off without a hitch. It was quicker than you expected. Ryuseong pointed in the general direction of where Ryujin was, but you were far from her to really see her. She might’ve turned in your area a few times throughout, but you couldn’t be sure she saw you.
You hoped she didn’t. You still wanted to surprise her.
Before you know it, it’s finished and you’re following Ryuseong out of the row to meet Ryujin. He jerks his elbow in your side as you walk, head tilting to the group of girls by you. You glance at them, which they quickly look away, one even giggles at the other.
“Dude stop,” You mutter, rolling your eyes. “I’m not interested.”
“Just making you aware,” Ryuseong comments, “Ryujin’s not going to like the attention you’re getting.” You do a once over of your outfit choice, and there’s nothing that really calls for the attention of others. A black blazer, black shirt, and black slacks—it wasn’t anything outrageous. “You’re a chump.” He jokes, then starts to laugh when he sees you pout.
You’re about to say something sarcastic when you’re nearly tackled by someone from the side. There’s a familiar airy giggle that has you roll your eyes again.
“Oppa!” Yuna’s voice rings through your ears as you keep your balance. “Unnie didn’t say you were going to be here.”
“Yuna,” You say flatly, untangling her limbs off your body. She huffs, crossing her arms as two other familiar faces appear. “Hi Yeji, Lia,” You bow, earning a smile.
You fall into an easy conversation, telling them a bit about your time away with the promise of more details later over dinner. There was a lot to catch up on, and you didn’t want to take the limelight away from Ryujin.
You don’t know how much time goes by, but there’s a tap on your shoulder that has you turning around.
Your heart nearly stops.
Ryujin still is as beautiful as you remember, if not more.
You exchanged hundreds of messages with photos, and some videos that were for your eyes only. So seeing her for the first time in almost a year has you swooning.
“Why are you dressed like that?” Ryujin questions, gaze going up and down before meeting yours.
“Uh? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” The self-consciousness was creeping in.
“Well,” She crosses her arms over her chest, “For one, you look like an actor, or an idol.”
(Her friends nod in agreement in your periphery.)
“I can’t stop that? This is how I look.”
“And two, all the girls within a ten meter radius are staring at you,” She raises an eyebrow, “Are you trying to make me jealous?”
You can’t help the corner of your lips from curling up. Not even a hello, but you didn’t mind it. She was jealous, and you felt like feeding the fire. You’ll beg for forgiveness later.
“Is it working?” You grin as she scoffs. “Congratulations by the way.”
And just like that, the facade breaks.
Ryujin wraps her arms around you, instinctively pulling you into her. You almost hesitate because her parents are right behind her, but you don’t care.
You missed her.
“You’re going to regret that,” Ryujin mumbles against your chest.
You kiss her sweetly on the top of her head, smiling, “Worth it.”
“I want to do something once we’re done with my family,” Ryujin says suddenly, head tilting up with a mirthful gleam in her eyes.
“What?” You wanted to kiss her, but you had to draw the line somewhere with physical displays of affection with the current audience.
“Can you give me a tattoo?”
“Uh?” You raise an eyebrow. She hadn’t mentioned a tattoo in months, and you completely forgot she wanted one.
“Somewhere hidden, like where only a certain someone could see.”
“Oh? Like where?” You grin, eyes trailing down her body.
“Maybe my hip?” Ryujin offers and the idea of her body permanently marked by you sends your mind in a tailspin. She stands on her tiptoes, lips grazing your ear, before whispering, “As a reminder.”
“For…?” You trail off, gulping as a slim finger traces down your chest.
“When you fuck me,” Tactfully adding, “I’m still yours.”
Oh.
-- -- --
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Confessing (Alternate)
Mean!Stepmom!Wanda x Pervy!Reader
After months of spying on your stepmother, you’re finally caught and made to confess far more than you’d expected.
CW: Non-consensual spying, underwear stealing and other nefarious acts, mentions of masturbation, stepmom/stepdaughter, intense questioning, dacryphilia (kinda), humiliation, spanking, mommy kink, accidental orgasm, arousal tasting, allusion of oral (W receiving)
Word Count: 3.9k
A/N: This is literally the exact same fic I posted yesterday but with a non g!p reader. The only things that have changed are the reader’s anatomy and the ending.
You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, still mostly naked from the long shower you’d just taken. You stood up on your tippy toes in order to highlight the main attraction: your new lacy thong underwear.
You’d stolen them from your stepmother Wanda's wardrobe earlier while she was busy making dinner. When you’d found them, you just knew you had to have them.
It was the first time you’d ever stolen her panties to wear, and the act both scared and aroused you. It was one of the boldest moves you’d ever made in your months of silent admiration of Wanda.
Not to say that the stuff you’d been doing up until this was innocent or tame, by any means. This was just the furthest you’d ever pushed the envelope.
It’s not that you wanted to get caught, per se, but the risk was enticing. It was sort of like exhibitionism. The risk of being in public added excitement, but that didn’t mean you wanted to get arrested for public indecency.
“Honey! Dinner’s ready!” Wanda’s voice cut off your thoughts from the dining room.
You frowned, not ready to get dressed quite yet. Nonetheless, you shouted from the bathroom, “I’ll be down in a second!” before slipping on your plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. It’s fine. You’d be nice and quick with dinner, then you could slip away to the privacy of your room for the rest of night. You had a better mirror in there anyway: a full body one that would solve this tip toe problem. Maybe you could even put on a bit of a fashion show for yourself, trying on all of your favorite bras and deciding which one made for the best set.
You took a deep breath, trying to mask your excitement. It was going to be a perfect night. All you had to do was make it through dinner first.
You walked nervously down the stairs into the dining room where you found Wanda dishing out pasta onto each of your plates. She offered you a gentle smile upon arrival. “Oh good, you made it. I was worried for a second there you’d make me eat alone. Just pasta tonight, nothing fancy. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, uh, it’s no problem at all,’” you assured. “Anything you make will surely be delicious.” You tried to offer her the same smile she’d offered you, but it came out awkward and uneven. It was clear you were nervous. You cursed yourself for your inability to hide your feelings from her.
She tilted her head in slight confusion. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed.”
“I… uh… yeah I’m fine. I must’ve just taken a really hot shower,” you attempted to explain. She clearly wasn’t buying it. You shrank back in your chair a little bit. While it was sexy, the thin cut of the underwear wasn’t exactly comfortable. You shifted around as the fabric crept up into uncomfortable places.
“Are you sure?” she asked, unconvinced. “Let me feel your head.” She leaned over the table, giving you a clear view down the front of her shirt. Fuck. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath her blouse. You inhaled shakily, shifting even more obviously as you felt yourself grow wet at the sight of her.
She touched your head with the back of her hand. Her brows furrowed in confusion as your uncomfortable wiggling became more pronounced. “Darling, you seem terribly restless. What’s going on?” She was starting to catch on, at least, to the fact you were keeping something from her. Though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was, she was certain she could get it out of you. You were never very good at keeping secrets, especially not from her.
You scooted your chair backwards, determined to escape this situation as quickly as possible. “I… uh… Actually I am feeling a bit poorly. I better go up to my room.” You made a move to try and get up, but she grabbed your wrist before you could escape.
You turned to let her and you were met with a glare that nearly made you crumble. She looked at you like she was looking into your soul, like she was some sort of omnipotent goddess that already knew every secret you’d ever tried to keep. “Honey,” she said, voice even and emotionless, “I think we need to have a talk.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you collapsed back down into your seat. “I’m sorry, mommy,” you whispered tearfully. How could she possibly know? Did she see something by accident?
She smiled knowingly. She had you now. That poor little head of yours couldn’t come up with a lie right now no matter how hard you tried. She circled the table and squatted down next to your chair, squeezing your hand and soothingly rubbing your temple with her thumb. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s not mad. I just need you to tell me what happened, okay? It’s okay, you can tell mommy.”
You swallowed. So she didn’t know. If you played your cards right, you could still make it out of this. Subconsciously, you crossed your legs, squeezing them tightly together to hide yourself from her. It was a painfully obvious move, but her soft voice and her hand on your head were making it so very hard to think clearly.
Wanda smirked and ran her hand up the side of your hip. Whatever you were hiding was somewhere in here.
Her hand slid over the fabric of your baggy pajama pants. Oddly enough, she couldn’t feel any underwear underneath the pants. Your secret wasn’t just that you weren’t wearing underwear, was it? No. As her hand got further up your waist, she felt them. It was different from anything she’d ever known you to wear. The fabric didn’t make its way around your waist until it was up over your hip bones.
“Honey,” she said calmly. “What are you wearing under your pajamas?”
Your mouth went dry and you froze, unsure how to answer her question. You decided it was best to play dumb. “W-what do you mean? Underwear.”
“Oh come on now darling,” she said, voice soft but slightly perturbed. “You know what I’m talking about. What underwear are you wearing right now?”
Your eyes darted around the room, avoiding her gaze at all cost. She wasn’t going to check if you lied, was she? “Just my… white cotton ones.”
“Are you sure?” She asked, unconvinced. “Do you mind if I lift up your shirt so I can make sure?”
Your hands flew to your waist, pinning your shirt to your body. “I… uh… I don’t feel comfortable showing you my underwear.”
She pursed her lips, annoyed with your evasiveness. She had started to believe that her soft mommy act wasn’t going to cut it, if she really wanted you to confess. “Darling, I’ve seen you in your panties countless times before. Hell, I probably bought you those underwear. Why are you getting so bashful all the sudden?”
You curled up tighter. You knew she was on to you by this point, but the humiliation of revealing yourself was too much. “I just… I don’t wanna show you, okay?” Your bottom lip quivered, tears threatened to spill from your eyes.
Wanda stood up, pushing your chair back until it hit the wall. You gasped, looking up at her, frightened as she loomed over you menacingly. “Alright, darling. If you can’t be a good girl and tell mommy what’s going on, I’m going to have to pull you over my lap, push your pants down to your ankles, and spank you in whatever panties you’re wearing, okay? So I’ll ask you one more time. What. Underwear. Are. You. Wearing. Right. Now?”
Your eyes went wide. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your entire body started to shake as you stared up at her, frozen. Her gaze was harsh now, face unmoving as she waited on an answer.
Finally the dam broke. A cry ripped from your throat and tears poured down your face. You crumbled to pieces underneath her. “I’m not wearing my underwear, I’m wearing yours! I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have done it. And I know I shouldn’t have lied! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You sobbed.
She shrunk back down, squatting again on the floor in front of you. She could hardly hide the pleasure she got from watching you shake and sob underneath her. She took your hand in hers, wiping away your tears. “See, baby? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You melted into her hand. You were truly hers now. No more lying, no more games. No more thoughts in your precious little head aside from “do exactly what mommy tells you to do”. Any resistance you had had melted away.
“Can you tell mommy why you were wearing her panties, sweetheart?” She asked softly.
“I wanted to be pretty,” you cried weakly. “Like you.”
Wanda tilted her head. You had plenty of underwear of your own. She even let you get the fancy stuff sometimes. Certainly your own underwear collection was more expansive than hers. “Were your own pretty panties not working for you? You just had to steal some of mommy’s?”
You nodded. Your head was so jumbled it felt like the confessions were spilling out of you. “I see you through the door sometimes, when you’re getting dressed. You just look so… perfect with your matching bras and panties,” you confessed.
“You see me through the door?” She asked, noting how you had said ‘see’ rather than ‘watch’. “Do you spy on mommy while she’s naked? Do you watch me when I change my clothes?”
Your head lulled to the side. “No! …yes… sometimes.” You confessed, getting quieter with each statement.
She raised her eyebrows, surprised and amused by your unswerving honesty. She’d known, of course, about your little habits. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought. However, having you blubbering under her, confessing every little thing you’d ever done, brought her immense satisfaction.
She ran her hand up your upper thigh again, lightly tracing shapes with her fingers. “How long have you been spying on mommy, huh?”
You sighed, feeling the wet spot on the underwear grow. Her touch was so memorizing you nearly forgot to answer the question. She pulled her hand away, grabbing your face and raising her eyebrows expectantly. You snapped out of your haze. “I don’t know! I don’t know how it started! Please! I promise I’m not a naughty girl!”
Her hand moved up to your hair, gently wiping it from her face. Her rapid switching from gentle to harsh was making your head spin. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Mommy’s not mad. You’re doing a very good job being honest with me.” She leaned forward, so close you could feel her breath against your ear. “How does it make you feel, watching me in my room like that? Watching me change my clothes and seeing my pretty lingerie?”
“G-good,” you answered hazily. “I just… I like to see, sometimes.”
She was slowly climbing up your body, almost in your lap now. “You just like to see sometimes, hmm?” She repeated. “Is that all?”
“Sometimes I-I like to… um… to-touch my… in the hallway while I watch,” you confessed, too scared and hazy to lie to her anymore.
A faint smile grew on her lips. She could hardly believe how vulnerable she’d made you. She’d never quite seen you like this before. “That’s quite naughty of you, darling. You can’t just touch yourself in the hallway like that. Someone could catch you, you know.”
“Dad almost… one time he saw… but he didn’t know what I was doing and I pretended I was waiting on you.”
She sat on your knees, rubbing soothing circles on your collarbones and shoulders. “Dad almost caught you, huh? And what were you doing, exactly?”
“Just… rubbing… on the outside. I didn’t have my h-hands in my pants or anything,” you stammered.
She leaned forward again, moving her hands down to your hips. “That was a very very naughty thing to do, little girl. I better not catch you rubbing yourself in the hallway again.”
You shook your head. “It will never happen again! I promise!”
She grabbed your face again, significantly softer now that she’d already broken you. She simply lifted your chin to look her in the eyes. “No more lying, darling. I want to know the truth. Are you going to stop spying on me?”
You nodded frantically, determined to never find yourself in this situation again. “Never! I swear!”
“Good girl,” she cooed. She gently rubbed your cheek with her thumb. “And no more stealing my underwear, agreed?”
You nodded again, driven to yet another confession you hadn’t planned on making. “No more! And no more stealing the dirty ones either. I won’t even snoop again! I promise!”
“Oh?” Wanda purred, “So you’ve been stealing my dirty panties too? Not just the clean ones?” Once again, she had been noticing her panties in your laundry instead of hers for months now. She was under no illusion that they were ending up there accidentally.
“This… this was the first time I stole any clean ones! I’ve never worn them before either!” You defended.
She hummed softly, pretending to ponder your confession. “Hmm. And what, exactly, do you do with my dirty panties?”
“I just… smell,” you confessed. “Some I use them to… t-touch myself with.”
“You use them when you touch yourself?” She asked, her voice still gentle and sweet. She ran her hands through your hair with an air of possession.
You nodded. “One time I had… I had a taste. But just one time!”
She chuckled smugly. “Oh?” She smirked down at you. “You took a taste, huh? Just once?”
You nodded. You were so terribly embarrassed. You wanted to throw yourself into her and beg her for forgiveness, but you doubted it would help.
“And how did I taste, darling?” She asked.
You moaned a little at the memory, hips bucking up as you felt yourself grow even wetter. “Really g-good. I’d never… finished that much before.”
“Aww,” she chuckled again. “Did you cum really hard when you tasted mommy?”
You nodded. Her hands traced light patterns on your hips, making their way to your stomach. “Just from a little taste?” She asked again, egging you on for more details.
“I… it kinda sprayed everywhere,” you explained. “I’ve never done that before.”
You were so wet now, you’d soaked through both the thin fabric of the underwear and your pants, leaving a wet spot on your chair. Wanda looked down at the spot and smirked smugly.
“It looks like maybe you enjoyed it, huh?” She lightly traced the waistband of your pants, getting close but not quite touching the wet parts of the fabric.
You whimpered and bucked your hips up, trying to get her hand closer to where you needed it. “Y-yeah. I didn’t know it could… happen like that.”
Wanda hummed, pondering your words. “Yeah, sweetheart. It happens like that sometimes when you feel really really good.”
You nodded, still sniffling. The whole ordeal had you beyond embarrassed, yet you noticed that your arousal persisted through the embarrassment. Perhaps it was even worsened by it.
“Can-can I go to my room?” You stuttered. You had to get out of here, to somewhere more private before your humiliation and arousal bubbled over.
“Aww, sweetheart,” she cooed with fake sympathy. “Did you really think after all of this I would just let you go to your room?”
Your eyes went wide with terror. There was only so much more of this you could withstand before disaster struck. “B-but you said you weren’t mad!”
“I’m not mad, honey,” she reassured. “But what you’ve done was very very naughty, isn’t it?”
You nodded, another wave of tears threatening to fall.
“And when little girls do naughty things they have to be punished, don’t they?” She said, affectionately combing through your hair.
You nodded again, whimpering under her gentle touch. “But you’ll go easy on me, right? Because I was a good girl and I was honest and I told you everything?”
She chuckled. Your description wasn’t exactly accurate, but she couldn’t help but take at least a little pity on you. You had confessed in the end, even if it took a little pushing. “Of course, baby,” she soothed. “Now go upstairs and wait for mommy. I want you over the end of the bed in nothing but mommy’s panties, okay?”
You nodded frantically, running up the stairs and assuming the position as soon as she got off your lap.
She chuckled, amused by your eager obedience, and boxed up the pasta she’d made so she could easily heat it back up after this was over.
It only took her about five minutes to make her way up to the bedroom, but to you, bent naked over the edge of the bed, it felt like hours.
You had to fight to keep your head down on the mattress when you heard her open the bedroom door. You whined as you watched her pull the wooden hairbrush from her nightstand. “No mommy! Please not the hairbrush! Please I was so honest and-and I answered all of your questions-“
She cut you off by rubbing gentle circles on the swell of your ass. “Shshsh,” she soothed. “Mommy’s only doing this because she loves you, okay? I have to remind my sweet girl what happens when she’s naughty so she’ll remember to be a good girl, right?”
You whimpered and squirmed under her, trying to be patient and still but also desperate to get away from the hairbrush. The thin fabric of the underwear offered you little to no protection.
“I want you to count for me, okay?” She instructed. “If you can keep count like a good girl, we’ll only do 15, but if I have to count for you, I’m gonna have to do 25, okay?”
You nodded, determined to be good and keep count. However, you weren’t traditionally known for keeping a clear head during your punishment. “Can-can I hold onto a pillow, please?”
You couldn’t see your face, but the tears in your voice made it hard for her to deny you anything. “Of course, baby,” she said, pulling a pillow from the headboard and tucking it into your arms. She kissed the side of your teary face. “Mommy loves you very much, princess. It’ll be over soon.”
She tapped your ass twice with the hairbrush before placing the first smack firmly on your left cheek. You cried out, wailing more with overwhelming embarrassment than pain.
“One!”
She hit you again with perfect precision in almost the exact same spot.
“T-two”
She switched sides, smacking you again on the other cheek.
“Three!”
You made it to seven before you inevitably lost count. She waited for a moment after the strike before she decided your wailing was not going to give way to a number, and she officially started counting herself.
By ten, you had resorted to begging. You knew better than to flail and kick your legs, she’d have you pinned over her lap with a far worse punishment in store, but you were allowed to cry and plead all you wanted. “Please mommy! Please, I'll be good. I learned my lesson mommy please no more!”
You sounded so pathetic she was tempted to have mercy on you. You weren’t even halfway through your punishment now that she’d pushed it to 25. But she would stick to her word. That was, after all, what was most important when it came to discipline.
It wasn’t even so much the pain, you were trying to escape, but something far more alarming that boiled in your lower belly. Having her, a commanding force over you was awakening something in you. The humiliation of a confession, matched with wearing her underwear and being spanked like a child over her bed had a coil building in your lower stomach.
By 15 spanks, you realized it was inevitable. You were pleading with her more quietly now. Your hips bucked against the bed in what she thought was an attempt to get away, but by the 20th spank the coil snapped. In a humiliating display of desperation, you came, all over the sheets.
She stopped spanking you, taking a second to realize what just happened. “Did you just…?”
You wailed into the pillow, burying your face into it until it nearly suffocated you. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry mommy I didn’t mean to! I’ll clean it up! I promise! Please no more spankings mommy! Please, I'll be a good girl!”
Wanda laughed sadistically. “Good girls don’t have little accidents when their mommies spank them, do they?”
Your voice trembled. You could hardly breathe. “N-no.”
Wanda tapped your sore ass twice with the hairbrush. It hurt worse than when she’d done it earlier. “Get up, sweetheart.”
Reluctantly, you got up, standing naked at the foot of the bed next to a clothed and composed Wanda. Every bone in your body wanted to run out of the room, but her intimidating demeanor had you locked in place.
She grabbed the back of your hair roughly, causing you to gasp. “Do you like it when mommy spanks your little ass?” She asked.
“N-no,” you whimpered.
“Really?” She asked before roughly pushing your face down until it was hanging just above the mess you’d left on the bed. “It sure looks like you did. Tell mommy the truth. Do you like it when I spank you?”
You whined, tears falling from your face and mixing with your cum. “Yes! Yes I like it when you spank me! Please mommy!”
“Lick it up,” she commanded.
“W-what?” You stuttered. She couldn’t seriously be asking for what you thought she was asking.
“You heard me. Lick. It. Up.” She repeated. “If you wanna make a little mess on my sheets, you're gonna clean it up yourself.”
You stuck out your tongue, licking the cum from the mattress. It was disgustingly salty, mixed with the tears that were continually streaming into it. You sobbed in embarrassment. You were certain you’d never been more humiliated in your life. Yet, you still felt your arousal growing.
“Oh?” She said, presumably noticing the arousal still building between your legs. “Is my little girl enjoying this too? Do you like it when mommy gets rough with you?”
Deciding this couldn’t get any worse, you just nodded.
Her grip on your hair loosened, switching instead to a soft stroking. “That’s a good girl,” she praised.
She gently pulled you back up from the mattress when she deemed it sufficiently clean. She pulled you to face her. “Let mommy have a taste.”
You hesitantly parted your lips, slowly meshing them with hers. She hummed contentedly, running her tongue along your own.
You grabbed her by the back of the neck, losing yourself in her. You stopped caring that you were naked and sobbing and pathetic.
Her hand fell from your hair to your chest. She pushed you backwards so hard you crashed on to your back on the mattress.
She crawled on top of you, kissing you again. You could feel her hands reach down to unbutton her jeans. You moaned into her mouth as her smooth bare legs met yours.
She straddled your waist, breaking the kiss to crawl further up your body.
“If just a taste from my panties made you squirt before,” she started, “I wondered what I can make you do with the real thing.”
#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda x you#mommy wanda#mommy!wanda#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#stepmom wanda
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All Night Long | Good Ending |
18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.
All Night Long | Neutral Ending | /// All Night Long | Bad Ending |
Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader
Warning: Flirting | Smut | Little bit of Voyeurism | P in V | Blowjob | Three way |
Word Count: 2551
Sometimes you still think about that night. You felt like Beth and Hannah were like sisters to you. You visited their house often for breakfast and dinner, so it really hurt what happened. You couldn’t even imagine how Josh felt. You still feel somewhat responsible, maybe if you hadn't been taking care of Josh that night things would have been different.
They both knew you liked their brother. If anything they were the only ones who tried to get you together. They were the ones who set drunk Josh down on the same couch as you. You were so focused on playing with his hair and drawing lines on his face with your fingers. You even confused your feelings to him. You thought he heard you when he mumbled your name in his sleep.
But then they went missing and Josh cut off you and everyone else. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but what else could you do. He was mourning.
You were a little surprised though at the invite you got. But still happy, you really hoped that he was doing somewhat better.
When you got there it was like he was the same Josh, he didn’t look like he was mourning. He acted the same way. He still made his same flirtatious comments. He was still that boy next door kind of guy.
He had noticed that you got cold, so he walked over with a blanket. You were about to take it when he opened it and wrapped you with the blanket. You looked up at him, a bit corny but looking into his eyes just made you feel like kissing him.
And you feel like he noticed too, why else would he clear his throat and walk away. You felt a little disappointed. But you thought it was a good time to talk to him. You sat down next to him while he was crouching trying to light the fire. You weren’t alone so you just spoke softly so only he could hear.
“I’m really sorry for what happened Josh. I really loved Hannah and Beth. I still miss going over to your house on Sundays and eating breakfast with you guys. I really regret that day too, I should have been with Hannah that day. But I was so focused on taking care of you that I just didn’t- I didn’t think about what could happen.”
You looked up and saw him looking at you. “Thank you. I appreciate that Y/n.”
You were about to say something when Chris interrupted, “What am I missing?”
You rolled your eyes before looking at Chris who was crouched coming in between the two of you.
“Everything, we just had full blown sex right now. How'd you miss it?” Josh turned slightly to look at Chris.
“Oh shit no way. Was it hot?” Chris patted Josh on the back.
“Oh yeah dude. It was, you couldn’t tell? Dude had me cumming three times in the span of a minute. That guys, a real sex god.” They both looked at you bewildered, not uttering a word.
“Okay, guess I can’t joke around. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I’m going to sit on the couch where it's less awkward.” You got up and moved over to where Ashely was.
Chris moved to where you had been sitting, “So uh, you and uh, you and her?” He nodded towards you.
“What about me and her?” Josh continued to try and get the fire going.
“You finally gonna ask her out?” Chris whispers, “Cuz if you don’t I might just have to. I mean have you seen that ass? Just thinking about it makes me wet. Picture it, her ass up in the air while you're pounding into her and it has her screaming your name.”
Josh glares over at Chris. Chris laughs, “Just saying the same shit you did buddy. But seriously, I think you should finally go for it. She definitely wants you to.”
You slowly stopped talking when you heard Sam yell about there not being any hot water. Josh got up and was about to head to the basement.
“Go.” Ashley whispered, but seeing that you didn’t get up she yelled. “Josh, do you need help? Cuz Y/n could definitely help you if you needed help.”
Josh turned around, “Yeah I could use some help. It’s definitely a two man job.”
“Alright well if you need me that bad I guess I’ll go.”
You both stood at the entrance of the basement. “Oh fuck no. I’m not going down there.”
You didn’t budge, “What you scared?” Josh smirked.
“Yes actually. Haven’t you ever seen scary movies Josh. People die in basements. There are ghosts and shit down there, psycho’s who are waiting for people to have sex.”
“You tryin to have sex?” He raised an eyebrow..
You glare at him, “Sure buddy. Let’s have sex all you want.”
He pumps his fist, “Yes.” He sees that you still aren't moving.
“Alright. Here.” He holds out his arm for you.
“Come on. Just hold onto me.” You hesitated, “Trust me, if there was anything in there I’d protect you.”
“Okay.” You wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close. He could feel your breast pressed up against his arm.
He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him a little hard.
After watching Josh fix the boiler he asks for your help. “Alright turn that switch there.”
“Right here?”
“Yeah.”
You turn the switch on and the boiler starts working.
“Yes! High five girl!”
“What are we kids?” You laugh but still give him a high five.
“Nah cuz if we were kids you wouldn't have said what you did upstairs.” You could hear the flirtation in his voice.
You could feel your face heat up. “Okay. Let’s just forget about it” You start to walk away but hear a loud sound that scared you. “What was that?”
You backed up into Josh, the warmth that was radiating off of his chest had you melting. His hands landed on your hips keeping you close. You felt him lean down and talk in your ear.
“That could be a lot of things. But what I’m focused on is the fact you called me a what was it again? A sex god?”
You shifted a bit in his grasp, an exhale left his breath. “Don’t do that.” His voice barely above a whisper.
You felt something boil up from inside you. Something about him whispering in your ear got to you. “Do what? Oh this?” You rubbed your ass against him.
“Fuck.” Josh gripped your waist tighter.
“What can’t flirt back.” You felt him start to rub himself against your ass.
One of his hands shifted from your hip to your pants. He wasted no time slipping his hand down them. His cold hand against your slit was such a sensation. His fingers went past your folds and slipped inside. “Fuck.” You whispered.
You were at a loss of words as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly. He used his other hand to move your hair out of the way so that he could suck on your neck. His hand going back to your hip to hold you in place.
“What was that about flirting back?” He felt you tighten around his fingers.
“Josh please.”
“Please what?”
“I need you.” He took his fingers out. Leaving you feeling empty.
“Need me where.” He put his fingers in his mouth, “God you taste so good.”
“In me. I need you in me please.” He got right to it. He took off your clothes and his. You could feel his hard dick against your ass.
He pushed you against the way so that you could lean forward. His dick rubbing against your folds. You could feel his arousal.
Your once empty hole felt full, the girth and length that this man had. He started out slow. But he picked up the pace. One hand on your hip and the other against your clit.
“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispered to you. He stopped for a bit before putting you on all fours. Your face pressed against the blanket he gave you earlier. His hands on your waist, gripping them tight enough to leave a bruise. And the feeling of his dick reaching places you wouldn't have felt while being pushed up against the wall.
Josh's pace starts to pick up. He starts hitting all the right places and it causes you to scream.
Unbeknownst to you both but there was someone watching. Chris was getting ready to scare you both with the first sound but when you both didn’t go investigating he got closer. That was when he saw you two. He was watching as you were grinding on Josh, and the way Josh started fingering you. He felt himself get hard. He knows he shouldn't have. He had a crush on Ashley. But what he told Josh earlier wasn't that much of a lie. He did think you were hot, especially in high school. Even when Josh dropped out he’d still see you around campus, he always wanted to talk to you. Always wanted to have sex with you. He fantasized about it a lot.
And now here he is. Watching behind a shelf, with his dick out stroking himself to the sight of his best friend fuck the girl he thought was hot. He could feel himself getting closer to cumming when something fell.
You both looked up in the direction of the noise. Chris’s face was now visible to you both. “Uh. I heard someone scream.”
Josh didn’t stop though, the room filled with the sound of skin hitting against one another. If anything Christ standing and just watching made Josh thrust even harder, like he was trying to claim his dominance. Especially with what Chris was saying earlier.
You’ve never thought of Chris in that way but being watched did something to you. “Josh” you moaned his name and felt yourself squeezing around his dick.
“You just gonna stand there Cochise? Cuz it looks like our girl here is getting excited from being watched. I know you haven't gotten your dick sucked. Why don’t you let her get it wet. But don’t expect it again. It’s a one-time offer Cochise.” Josh watched as Chris hesitated.
“Or you could go back upstairs and not get any from Ashley. Cuz I know you both wont put out.”
In a rush Chris keeps the robe on but gets down on his knees. You prop yourself up but grab his hard dick. You lick the tip before looking up at him and putting it in your mouth.
“Fuck” Chris lens his head back and grabs a fist full of hair.
“She’s good isn't she Cochise.” Josh kept ramming into you, saliva dripping down your chin from Chris, dick in your mouth.
“She's better with her mouth around you. So why don’t I give you a turn and you give me a turn.”
Anger built up in Josh, “Fuck no.” Josh grabbed your arms and pulled you back up.
“I have an idea. I don’t think you’ll like it though.” You let Josh slip out of you. You turned around, your lips hovering over his lips. “But I really want to try it. And then after I’m all yours.”
Josh nodded, you told Chris to lay down. You made Josh watch as you sank down on Chris’ dick. You bounced on it a few times before leaning back against Chris’ chest.
“You just want me to watch you fuck another guy?”
“No. Just come here.” You wrapped your mouth against his dick and got it wet. You sucked on the tip before pulling back, “I want you to go in.”
“I’m sorry what?” Chris showed hesitation.
“Chris please. Come on, don't ever tell me that you two horn dogs never thought about a girl with two dicks in her.”
Josh smirked at you, “Wow, you’re really taking that party like porn stars seriously.”
“You said it yourself, ‘it’s a one-time offer.’”
Josh wasted no time. He leaned you back against Chris. Chris held your waist with one hand and the other hand its way to your breast. You moaned feeling Josh spit on your pussy and his dick. He pushed his dick against your entrance, stretching it and pressing it against Chris’.
“Fuck” You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim.
Josh starts to thrust, your pussy dripping from arousal makes it easy for them both to move inside you. You could feel yourself coming closer. Your eyes started to water, you felt that tingling sensation on your nose. They could feel you tighten around them.
Chris pulled out and began to jerk himself off. But Josh kept going even if you began to get overstimulated. He kept fucking you while you were still on top of Chris, he just slightly lifted you to not disturb Chris letting it lose.
You could feel Josh getting closer. His thrust were erratic, his breathing was heavy. He kept whispering your name until he came inside of you.
Josh leaned down and kissed you.
You all stayed there for a moment to catch a breath. That was before Chris got up after cleaning himself. “So uh, we don’t tell Ashely or anyone right?”
“Right.” You laughed as Josh helped you put on your clothes.
“And it was a one time thing Chris.” Josh turned around after he finished buttoning his pants.
“Right right. I get it.”
You all ended up going back up stairs together. Ashley got up from the couch “What took you guys so long.” She paused before seeing Chris robe. “What in god's name are you wearing?”
Chris did the Trinity on Ashley, “I found my true calling.”
“Pretty ironic huh.” Josh whispered over to you, you stiffened a laugh before elbowing him lightly.
“Please tell me you're going to take a vow of silence.” Ashley joked.
“He better.” Josh spoke a little louder, confusing Ashley a bit.
After you nudged Josh again he turned to you. “And you. What am I going to do with you?”
You smirked at him, “With me? I did nothing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess we just gotta go for round two huh.” Josh grabbed your wrist lightly trying to lead you.
“Oh you mean round two with you know who?” You could see that he got irritated for a second.
“Yeah sure okay.” Josh leaned down before holding your legs and throwing you over his shoulder.
“Where are you two going?” Ashley laughed at the two of you.
Josh started to walk up the stairs, “I gotta talk with her about some stuff. You two have fun down here.”
“Damn that basement really did something for them huh.” She laughed and looked at Chris. Who weirdly looked irritated.
“Chris?”
He snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah. It really did. Some kinda trauma bonding or something from the scare I gave them.”
“Where did you even find that?” Ashley listened to Chris all the weird shit that he found in the basement. Excluding the sex and him watching you and Josh fuck before he joined in.
#xreader#x reader#until dawn#until dawn x reader#josh x reader#josh washington#josh washington x reader#until dawn smut#josh washington smut
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throw it all away part 2
part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.
—
The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony.
Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”
“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.”
You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”
“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently.
Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself.
“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”
At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster.
“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.”
Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face.
“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”
“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair.
“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-”
“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.”
Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks.
“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?”
You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful.
“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse.
“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room.
As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?”
Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…
“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.”
“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair.
“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.”
“I’m just trying to help!”
“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,”
“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.”
Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence.
I can't fix this. she'd said.
I can’t understand.
I would never do this.
How am I supposed to help?
It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too.
You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened.
“Nena, did you…?”
Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.”
Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.”
Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.
—
Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier.
All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff.
“Chiqui? Can I come in?”
“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling.
She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”
“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly.
“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore.
You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”
And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.
Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that.
Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip. You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again.
“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter.
You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.”
Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?”
“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia.
The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you.
“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.”
“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt.
“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.”
You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly.
“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed.
Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”
You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”
There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience.
Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.”
You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.”
Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible.
“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.”
For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything.
That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.
—
If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her.
It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks.
You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being.
Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?”
You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective.
This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space.
Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk.
Until today.
Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times.
She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi.
“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?”
It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true.
“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly.
Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.”
“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.”
That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.
“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away.
“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.
“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.”
“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.
Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.
“You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”
Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.”
She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.”
You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said.
‘You’re a determined person.’
‘You’re strong enough.’
You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.
—
The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels.
“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”
Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.”
The blonde frowned. “But what if…”
“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.”
For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.
“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.”
Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek.
It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough.
—
You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there.
Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.
Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you.
It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break.
You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug.
Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face.
“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly.
“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?”
Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.”
“That’s good.”
Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.”
“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.
“Pequeña,”
“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.”
How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery.
As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough?
She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying.
“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”
You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them.
“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.”
“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her.
“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”
“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly.
“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head.
“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?”
“You don’t want to hear.”
“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.”
It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.
“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,”
You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this.
If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her.
She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it.
And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now.
“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.”
“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.”
“No,” Alexia disagreed. “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”
You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it.
“I-I hate feeling like this. I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.”
“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.”
And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you.
“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.”
Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?
It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that.
“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?”
The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter.
But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering.
“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”
“Does it make you feel like a bad person?”
At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?
“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be.
“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.”
You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed.
“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?”
Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.”
You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could.
“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.”
“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.”
“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?”
You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you.
“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too.
Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.”
“Other stuff… being Olga?”
Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies. I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.”
“Or what?”
“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.”
You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it.
“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.”
By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say.
“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.”
You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.”
“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago.
“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.”
“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.
You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.”
It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was.
But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon.
“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?”
You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.”
“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.”
You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.”
Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?”
Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t.
Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one.
Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes.
The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with.
“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner.
“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused.
“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.”
It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear.
It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it.
But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.
You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again.
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it.
—
didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3
#woso imagine#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#putellas!reader#platonic reader#alexia putellas x platonic reader
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saw that jj is readers neighbor. and i see rafe absolutely hating him, until he realizes that you take care of him like he’s your baby brother, especially when things get a little rough at his house
omg yesssss! it's kinda funny that he's beefing with a teenager. thank you for the request! 🩵🫂 alsojj never met milo before bc he only showed up after the kid was already sleeping, cause luke had a tendency to get rowdier at night 😣.
you're on your own kid - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
There’s no way in hell JJ Maybank is sitting on your couch while you’re cooking away.
Rafe swears he’s lost his mind. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought when he was out on the boat earlier because what he’s seeing doesn’t make any sense.
There’s no way JJ is sitting there, his legs propped up on your coffee table like he owns the place. Like he belongs here. In your place. Your sister's place.
For a second, he thinks he’s gotta be dreaming. But nope, it’s real. The smell of whatever you’re cooking from the kitchen hits him in the face, and JJ’s laughter echoes through the living room.
This is your house, your space, and somehow JJ’s sitting there like he’s been here a thousand times before. He’s gotta say something.
Rafe clears his throat, trying to keep his voice normal but it comes out tight, strained. “What the hell’s Maybank doing here?”
You don’t even look up from the stove, just wave a hand in his direction, like it’s no big deal.
Like he’s no big deal. “Relax, baby. He’s just having dinner.”
“Dinner?” Rafe practically chokes on the word.
JJ catches the look on his face and smirks, leaning back further into the couch cushions.
“What, never seen a guy eat before, Cameron?”
Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Dinner? At your place? Since when are you and Maybank this close?”
His eyes narrow on JJ, sprawled out on the couch like he’s got nowhere better to be. The guy’s even wearing his boots, dirt probably all over your cushions, and Rafe’s practically grinding his teeth at the sight.
JJ just smirks, because of course he does. “Jealous or somethin’, Cameron? Didn’t think you’d care.”
But then you walk over with a plate and set it down in front of JJ, and Rafe watches in shock as you ruffle his hair, so casually it’s like second nature to you.
Like you’ve done it a hundred times before.
JJ’s eating like it’s the first meal he’s had in days, and Rafe’s brain is still trying to catch up with what the hell is happening here.
You and JJ? Since when? Rafe’s stomach twists at the thought, because why would you even care about a guy like JJ?
The guy’s got that scruffy look, bruises on his knuckles and faint ones on his arms. Rafe’s seen it before, the evidence of fights and bad nights. He knows what goes on at JJ’s house. He’s heard the stories. The arguments that spill out onto the streets late at night, the way JJ disappears for a while and comes back worse than before.
And then it hits him.
You’re not just letting him crash here.
You’re taking care of him. Looking out for him in ways that nobody else does, making sure he doesn’t completely spiral with a father like Luke Maybank.
JJ speaks up, grinning with his mouth full of food. “Her food’s so good, you gotta try it.”
“I’m her boyfriend, you think I haven’t tried her cooking?”
He’s being ridiculous, knows he’s not really jealous of a seventeen-year-old. It’s not that he’s threatened by JJ—hell no. It’s more that...he doesn’t like sharing you. Even if it’s just dinner.
He’s proud of you, though. Always has been. That big heart of yours, helping out some kid who clearly needs it.
Rafe crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway. “Since when did my girl become a goddamn soup kitchen?” The words come out harsher than he means them to, but you just glance over your shoulder and roll your eyes.
You know him too well by now.
“Baby, it’s just dinner. JJ’s had a rough day.”
“Yeah, well, so have I,” Rafe mutters under his breath, but he doesn’t push it. He can’t really.
He knows the guys has been through it, and yeah, his dad’s a piece of work. But that doesn’t make it easier to see him sitting here, all cozy in the life Rafe’s tried to build with you. Yeah, maybe you fucking spoiled him because know the mere thought of another guy being in your space makes his blood boil.
JJ wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Chill, Cameron. You’re acting like I’m movin’ in or something.”
He remembers being that kid—lost, angry, with no place to feel safe. JJ might be annoying as fuck, a walking nightmare to be around, but Rafe can’t hate him for that. Not really.
“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable,” Rafe mutters. He looks at you, softening. “You’ve got a heart too big for your own good, y'know that?”
“I thought you loved that about me?” You tease, turning back to the stove.
“’Course I do.” Rafe crosses the room, sitting on the arm of the couch, close enough to you but still keeping an eye on JJ. He watches as you stir something on the stove, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth despite everything. Yeah, he gets annoyed, but fuck if he doesn’t love you for exactly this. You just have a way of making people feel safe, even the ones that don’t deserve it—or maybe need it most.
JJ leans back, letting out a satisfied groan. "God, that was good. She ever cook like this for you, Cameron?"
Rafe shoots him a look, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, maybe when you’re not eating all my food."
JJ just laughs, completely unfazed. “You’re lucky, man.”
Rafe doesn't answer, just stares at him, half of him wanting to tell him to get out and the other half knowing how good it must feel for the kid to have a moment where he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Rafe’s been there—different situation, same lost feeling. He looks at you again, knowing it’s you that pulled him out of that place. And now here you are, doing the same thing for JJ.
With a sigh, he slides off the couch and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “You know you’re too good for him, right?”
You laugh, leaning back into him. “For him? Or for you?”
Rafe presses a kiss to your shoulder, smiling despite himself. “Both. Definitely both.”
His lips linger there for another second before JJ’s speaking again, “Alright, y’all don’t have to be disgusting while I’m sitting here trying to digest. Seriously, have some respect. I’m a guest.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he can’t help but laugh under his breath, his forehead dropping against your back. “You gotta be kidding me.” He sighs dramatically, loosening his grip on you and stepping back, but he’s still got that smirk. “You hear that, baby? We’re offending the guest. Can’t have that.”
JJ rolls his eyes so hard Rafe’s sure he’s gonna get stuck that way. “Yeah, you two keep it up, and I’m gonna lose this amazing meal you just made. Not trying to see all that lovey-dovey shit.”
Rafe leans against the counter, arms crossed, shaking his head. “You know, most people would be grateful for a free dinner.”
You toss a dish towel at JJ, which he dodges with a snicker. “You’re welcome to leave, you know.”
“Nah, nah,” JJ says quickly, stuffing the bread in his mouth. “I’m good right here.” He stretches out again, clearly getting way too comfortable. “But if y’all could just tone down the romance while I’m around, that’d be great.”
Rafe’s still grinning, even though part of him wants to wipe that smirk right off JJ’s face. “You jealous, Maybank?”
JJ gives an exaggerated shrug. “Nah. I got my priorities straight.”
“Yeah? Like what? Getting on my last fucking nerve?” Rafe shoots back.
JJ lifts his hands in surrender, still grinning like a kid who knows exactly how make him lose his temper. “Hey, I’m just saying. Don’t go making me regret this free meal, alright?”
He glances over at you, and you’re shaking your head, smiling like this whole thing is the most entertaining show you’ve seen all week.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Rafe mutters, still eyeing JJ. “This is a one-time thing.”
JJ chuckles, unfazed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just remember, I’m your girl’s favorite.” He flashes you a wink, and Rafe’s this close to tossing the bread basket at his head and tossing him out on the street.
JJ’s annoying, no doubt, but he understand, or at least he's trying to, that you’re doing it for a reason—helping the kid out, making sure he’s got a safe place for at least one night.
No matter how much he pisses him off, Rafe respects that. For your sake.
“You keep running your mouth and you’re both sleeping on the porch.”
Rafe turns to you, offended, “The fuck did I do?”
“You know exactly what you did,” you say, shaking your head. “Always making things competitive.”
Rafe scoffs, standing a little straighter.
“Competitive? Baby, I’m just protecting what’s mine.” He throws a glance at JJ, who’s still lounging on the couch like he owns the place.
“Man, protectin’ what?” JJ pipes up, laughing through his words. “I’m just here for the food and the show.” He gestures between the two of you. “Y’all could make a fortune if you charged admission. People love drama.”
Rafe rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky they’re not charging you rent at this point.”
He’s about to tell him to shove off the couch and leave, but the front door swings open. Monica walks in arms full of grocery bags. Little Milo is trailing behind her, clutching a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other. The moment he sees Rafe, his face lights up.
“Uncle Rafey!” Milo yells, charging toward him with all the energy of a four-year-old hyped up on apple juice.
He bends down and scoops Milo up, setting him on his hip. “Hey kid. What’s up?”
Milo grins and holds up his juice box. “I got juice!”
Rafe chuckles, “Juice, huh? Sounds like a big day.”
Meanwhile, Monica’s busy setting the groceries on the counter, glancing at JJ sprawled out on the couch. She shoots Rafe a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Looks like we have an extra child in the house today.”
JJ, clearly not catching the jab, raises a hand. “Hey, Monica. I’m just keeping the couch warm.”
Milo tugs on Rafe’s shirt, completely oblivious to the grown-up talk. “Uncle Rafe, can I have a cookie?”
“Maybe after dinner, bud,” Rafe says, setting him down gently. “Go help your mom, okay?”
Milo pouts for a second but quickly gets distracted by the sight of JJ. He stares at him curiously, tilting his head. “Who’s that?”
JJ leans over the back of the couch, grinning. “I’m JJ. You can call me… your favorite new friend.”
Milo looks at him like he’s deciding if JJ is cool or just weird. After a second, he grins back. “Okay, JJ. Can I sit with you?”
“Sure, kid. Hop on up.”
Rafe watches as Milo clambers onto the couch next to JJ, giggling when JJ pretends to steal his dinosaur. It’s almost funny—if he wasn’t so good at making himself at home.
Monica, catching the scene, sighs and shakes her head. “Great, now he’s corrupted Milo.”
Rafe crosses his arms, unable to suppress a smirk. “He’s already got enough bad influences in his life.”
She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yeah, starting with you.”
Rafe raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “Fair enough.”
You’re leaning against the counter, watching the whole scene unfold, and suddenly, it just hits you.
Rafe with Milo, the way he softens when your nephew runs up to him, lifting him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Milo’s giggles fill the room and then there’s Monica, half-smiling at Rafe’s attempts to wrangle Milo, even with JJ sprawled out on the couch, egging the kid on.
Your heart feels so full, you almost can’t stand it. It’s one of those moments where everything just… clicks. You try to keep it together, but there’s this warm feeling in your chest, and you blink back the unexpected tears. How could you feel anything but love for all of them in this moment?
Rafe catches you staring, his eyes softening when he sees the look on your face. He raises an eyebrow, but he’s already smiling at you, “What’s that look for?”
You shake your head, grinning despite the lump in your throat. “Nothing. Just... you guys. It’s... a lot.”
JJ, ever the clown, groans from the couch, “Oh God, please don’t get all mushy now."
But you can’t help it. You step closer to Rafe, wrapping your arms around his waist, laying your head against his chest. “I just love you. All of you.”
Rafe chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head. “Love you too.”
Monica glances over with a knowing look, shaking her head. “Alright, enough of this sentimental stuff. You’re gonna make me cry, and I just got home.”
You stay wrapped in Rafe’s arms for a moment, just soaking in the warmth around you. Monica’s pulling plates from the cabinet, setting them on the table with her usual no-nonsense efficiency. JJ’s somehow got Milo giggling uncontrollably, making goofy faces and pretending to steal his dinosaur every few seconds. The kid’s losing it, practically bouncing off the couch in fits of laughter.
Rafe leans down, his lips close to your ear. “You’re okay?” he murmurs against your hair.
You smile, nodding against his chest. “Yeah. Better than good, actually.”
He pulls back slightly to look at you, his blue eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read every thought behind it. “You sure? You looked like you were about to cry a second ago.”
You laugh a little, wiping under your eye, even though the tears never really fell. “It’s just... this. All of this. It’s perfect, you know? I don’t know. It feels like family.”
“You really think so?” Rafe asks quietly.
You nod, feeling that same warmth flood your chest again. “Yeah, I do. I love it. I love us.”
He smiles, a little crooked but real, the kind of smile you don’t see too often, but when you do, it hits you in the heart. “I love us too.”
For a second, the noise around you fades, and it’s just you and Rafe, holding onto each other like you’re the only two people in the room.
Then, predictably, JJ ruins it. “Hey, lovebirds! Save that for later. You’re killing Milo’s vibe.”
You both turn to see JJ standing with his hands on his hips, looking dramatic as ever. Milo’s grinning, clutching his dinosaur to his chest like it’s his new best friend.
“Yeah, stop kissin'!” Milo chimes in, giggling.
You rolls your eyes but pull away from Rafe with a chuckle. “Alright, alright. No more kissing.”
Monica smirks as she finishes setting the last plate. “Don’t worry, Milo. They’ll be gross later when you’re in bed.”
Rafe gives your sister a mock glare. “You’re hilarious.”
She pats him on the back, grinning. “It’s what I’m here for.”
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Roommates | 10. just us two
Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You and Joel settle into your new lives together.
Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol and food consumption, massive quantities of fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader is on BC), oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, pussy pronouns, multiple orgasms, some sex tape action 👀
WC: 7.1K
A/N: Okay, we've reached the end of the road for these two! I can't believe I'm wrapping up another fic, jfc. Thank you so much for sticking around and expressing so much love and excitement for this story. It means so much to me that I'm able to share this part of myself with people who are just as happy as me about these characters. This chapter wasn't really necessary, most loose ends are already tied up but they deserved to be happy, so this entire chapter is just love and fluff and smut. Shout out to @txtattoostark for listening to me yap and for the watermelon moonshine inspo. Enjoy, and thanks again ❤️
Series Masterlist
One Month Later
Joel smiled to himself as he watched you in the kitchen with his mom from his spot in the living room. The old radio next to the sink, dusty and missing two buttons, was softly playing jazz music while you both worked on dinner. It wasn't the trailer park he grew up in. The small ranch house his mother bought with the life insurance money she received after his father passed away wasn't too bad. He begged her for years to let him give her some money, to buy her a place closer to town, to pay for new appliances at the very least, but she always refused. Instead, he found himself visiting her whenever he had a few days off so he could fix the sink or the washer or cut the grass.
He didn't mind. It was a good excuse to come visit. He enjoyed catching up and spending time with her.
But now, with you? Watching the way you seamlessly moved around the kitchen, laughing with his mom and stirring things in pots while swaying your hips in those tight denim shorts... yeah, this was different. This was much better.
"Hey, brother," Tommy said from behind, startling him out of his rosy daydream. Joel stood with a smile to engulf Tommy in a hug once he kicked off his shoes.
"You look tan," he remarked, then reached for Maria and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"New Orleans was sunny," Tommy said, holding some bottle of clear alcohol in his hand. "Brought back some moonshine. Watermelon. Mama's favorite."
"Oh, Tommy! Maria! You're back!" their mother cried from the kitchen before wiping her hands on a towel and hurrying over to the front door, her worn out blue slippers catching on the rug as she walked. "How was your honeymoon?" she asked after she squeezed them both within an inch of their lives.
"Amazing," Maria said happily. "We had such a great time. Have you ever been?"
Mrs. Miller shook her head. "Maybe James will take me one day."
"Is he here?" Tommy asked, handing his mother the liquor.
"No, he's visiting his daughter out of town this weekend. Come on, I have some snacks out."
The four of them entered the kitchen and you swiveled around with a big smile. Setting down the wooden spoon you were holding, you threw your arms around Maria's neck, then Tommy's.
"How was it?" you asked them, your eyes sparkling with excitement.
You and Maria fell into an animated conversation about some haunted ghost tour when Tommy cleared his throat and propped his hands on his hips.
The pair of you stopped talking to look at him questioningly, then realization dawned on you. You smirked and shook your head before digging into your back pocket to pull out a folded bill and slapped it into his palm.
"You were right, Tommy."
He laughed and tucked the money into his shirt pocket.
"Thought you mighta forgot."
Joel frowned and looked between the two of you curiously, but Maria seemed to know exactly what was going on because she was already chuckling to herself.
You glanced over at Joel, who was eating a cracker with cheese, and your expression softened. "Best hundred bucks I ever lost."
"The hell you givin' him a hundred bucks for?" Joel asked incredulously, but you just slipped your arms around his waist and rested your chin against his chest with a smile.
"I lost a bet," you told him.
He practically melted into a puddle under your touch. He couldn't get enough. After a year of denying yourselves or sneaking around, it felt so good to be open. He refused to ever take it for granted, so he tilted your face up and pressed a tender kiss against your lips. He felt your mouth twitch into a smile when Tommy groaned in fake disgust.
"Thought we were the newlyweds here."
You broke the kiss to shoot him a look over your shoulder.
"Try and keep up."
Joel tossed his head back and laughed, then released his hold on you so you could return to the stove. Maria washed her hands and picked up a knife to chop vegetables and Tommy reached for the bottle of moonshine their mother left on the counter.
"Let's crack into this," he said, and Joel nodded. He weaved through the kitchen to open up the cupboard where the glasses were kept, grabbing five tumblers. You were swaying again with the music and you gently knocked into him with your hips, just enough to tease him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Watch yourself, baby," he warned with a wink before placing the glasses down next to Tommy so he could pour.
Joel couldn't remember a time he had seen his mother look so happy. The five of them sat around her dining room table, a table made for four but you all squeezed in, knees knocking together underneath, arms brushing against one another, and it felt perfect.
He leaned back in his chair after finishing his food, one arm draped along the back of your chair, his other hand loosely holding his glass of moonshine and he smiled. He tried to pay attention to Maria and his brother tell stories about their honeymoon, but he had a hard time looking away from you. Eventually, he stopped trying. His gaze slid down your face, admiring your smile and the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed.
He was so fucking lucky.
Tearing his eyes away to bring his glass to his lips, he caught his mother watching him across the table with a knowing smile. She winked at him before giving Tommy her attention once again and Joel felt his face warm.
Once dinner was over, he and Tommy stood to clear everyone's plates. A habit that was formed early on in their lives. Whoever didn't cook had to clean up.
After the dishes were done and the leftovers were packed away, the two brothers refilled their glasses and wandered out to the back porch where their mother, you and Maria had ended up.
Maria and Mrs. Miller were strolling around the yard, their mother pointing out plants and flowers and telling Maria some long winded story about each. The deer hate this one. Cindy up the street cut a chunk of this out of her garden for me, can you believe how big it is now? I got this from Home Depot on clearance half dead, look how good it's doing.
"Better go save her," Tommy murmured before jogging down the steps. Joel plopped himself next to you on the porch with a sigh and clinked your glasses together.
"Lucky you already got the flower tour earlier," he told you.
You bit your lip and chuckled. "She really loves her garden."
The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. The sun was setting and you could hear the crickets coming to life all around you. Birds swooped anxiously overhead, rushing back to their nests for the night. A cool breeze floated through the air, rustling your hair and making you shiver.
"C'mere," he murmured, patting his thigh. You smirked and shook your head but put your glass down and stood to perch on his leg, wrapping your arms around his neck lovingly and giving him a chaste kiss.
He hummed in approval and licked his lips. "Taste good."
"Like watermelon?" you asked, fingers twisting around the long strands of hair on the back of his head.
He nodded. "And you."
You kissed him once again, lingering a bit longer that time so you could fully appreciate the softness of his lips between yours and breathing in deep the scent of soap still stuck to his skin.
Then voices began to grow louder behind you, indicating your alone time was coming to an end.
Tommy stumbled on the stairs leading up the porch and you turned around on Joel's lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you right where you were, before teasing his brother.
"Better take it easy. You been out for two weeks at work, you ain't callin' in tomorrow 'cause you're hungover."
Tommy rolled his eyes and took your abandoned chair.
"Yes, boss."
"How are things at the bar, Joel?" his mother asked, sitting down with a sigh. "I'm so glad you found some work I can actually tell my girlfriends about without lying."
You stifled a giggle and glanced at Maria, who was also trying to hold back her laughter.
"Good, Mama," Joel said, ignoring her other comment. His chin came to rest over your shoulder as he spoke. "The remodel is done. Opened up the room so there's a place to dance. Easier for customers to move around. Everyone's been real excited to see the changes. Been busy."
"He's been working so hard, too," you added, twisting to your side so your fingers could lovingly rake through the hair on the back of his neck. "Some days I don't even see him."
Mrs. Miller gave you a sympathetic look but you could tell she was proud of her oldest son for venturing outside his comfort zone and applying himself.
"So you're all moved in, I take it?" Maria asked, and you nodded.
"Didn't really have much. Most of my things were still packed from when I moved out."
"She's been sprucin' up the place, too. You oughta see it," Joel said fondly. "Got pretty lookin' art on the walls, fluffy pillows and blankets for the couch. Actually got some food in the damn fridge, too."
Tommy laughed heartily. "That mean you'll stop swipin' fries and shit from the kitchen?"
"Hey, I'm payin' for those fries. I'll take 'em if I want 'em," he said with a scowl, then looked up at you, his eyes softening. "But it's nice to have dinner waitin' for me at home," he added, bringing a smile to your face.
"You were always terrible at cooking," you teased, tugging on his earlobe playfully between your fingers.
The night dragged on, the stars lit up the quiet night sky and Mrs. Miller eventually began to yawn, indicating it was time to head home.
Home.
It felt so right to think of it that way. It was where you belonged. But you knew it wasn't simply the house. You could have been living in a shack and you would still be just as happy because it was with him.
Joel gripped your thigh while he drove his truck with one hand on the steering wheel. The windows were down, the wind whipped at your face, tangling your hair when you turned your head to gaze over at him.
"See anythin' you like?" he teased when he spotted you admiring him from the corner of his eye.
You giggled and felt his fingers squeeze your bare leg.
"You know what I want?"
The corner of his mouth tugged upwards and his eyes darkened with excitement. "What's that, sweetheart?"
You seductively ran your palm up his arm, sighing at the way his muscles twitched under your fingertips.
"I would really, really love... a vegetable garden."
You laughed at the way his face fell in mock disappointment.
"I'll build you a vegetable garden," he finally said as he turned onto your street.
"Really?" you asked with a huge smile. He nodded and shot you a wink.
"'Course. Whatever you want, baby."
Joel stayed true to his word. About a week later you woke up on Saturday morning to the distant sound of a hammer beating a piece of wood in the backyard. Stretching a lazy arm out to your side, you pouted when you found Joel was missing.
Then the pieces slowly clicked together.
It was a rare weekend off for him. You had been talking about it for the past few days. He was looking forward to Tommy returning to work so he wouldn't be so short staffed and he could relax with you for two whole days. You didn't come up with any plans except laying in bed, ordering takeout and watching movies, content to just spend time together. But Joel sweetly surprised you by waking up early, something he absolutely detested, so he could build you the vegetable garden you asked for.
You lightly padded down the steps still clad in your tank top and shorts to grab a mug from the cupboard. The coffee pot sizzled with heat when you plucked it from the burner, half the liquid already gone. Once you fixed it the way you liked, you walked out onto the back deck and leaned over the railing, your mug cupped in both hands, to fully appreciate the sight before you.
Joel had his back to you as he crouched over a simple rectangular wooden frame on the ground. You could see the sweat collecting on the back of his neck and it made your mouth water. As your eyes traveled lower, you noticed the dark patches in his shirt forming at his collar and between his shoulder blades, making your thighs clench together while he worked, completely oblivious to you watching him, listening to him grunt and sigh when he lifted a new piece of wood.
You swallowed thickly before taking a sip of your coffee, your eyes never leaving his form while he stood to stretch his back. He lifted his hat from his head and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and you sunk your teeth into your lower lip. Something was so fucking hot about him getting all sweaty and worked up, but on that particular day? When he was making you something, sacrificing his rare down time just for you? It lit a fire inside you that couldn't be tamed.
Before he noticed, you scooted back inside to fill up a glass of ice water. With your hand hovering over the door handle, you got an idea that sent a jolt of arousal right through you. Without giving yourself a chance to overthink it, you pulled down your shorts and underwear, kicking your panties off to land on the couch, and shimmied your shorts back on.
Your pulse was fucking racing with excitement when you stepped outside once again, but this time you made sure to make a little noise so Joel would hear you. When the door clicked shut, he turned around and grinned before setting down his tools and stepping into the shade.
"Thank you, darlin'," he murmured when you handed him the water.
"You're welcome," you replied, your hands clasping behind your back as you practically vibrated in place with nervous energy. His eyes flicked down your body curiously right when he was finishing up his drink.
"Sleep okay?" he asked, sensing something was off while he set the glass down on the deck.
"Mhmm," you said, a nervous grin spreading across your face. "Missed you, though."
He chuckled and wiped some sweat away from his face with the bottom of his shirt. Your mouth went dry and your eyes instantly locked onto his tanned stomach and the dark smattering of curls that led below his waistband. The sleep shorts you were wearing were thin. If they were a lighter color, you could probably see right through them if you really looked. As it turned out, they were also terrible at absorbing moisture because they were sticking uncomfortably to your inner thighs while you waited for him to notice.
"Huh?" you said when you realized he was speaking.
He shook his head and dropped his shirt back down. "I said, I'm makin' you the damn garden you wanted."
You inched forward and took his hand in yours. "Well, do you think it can wait? Because I need to show you something inside that needs your help."
Somehow, he was still not picking up what you were implying.
"Baby, I'm on a roll. I just need another hour, maybe two-"
You tugged the hand you were holding between your legs and his eyes widened when he felt the wetness waiting for him there.
"Sorry. Got tired of being subtle," you told him with a playful smirk. He whipped his head around, checking to see if any of the neighbors were out tending to their lawns or enjoying their morning coffee on their patios while his fingers hooked around the soaked material.
You saw in his face the exact moment he realized you were bare underneath your shorts. It was like his brain was buffering, desperately trying to calculate how long he allowed you to stand there practically begging to be fucked while he rambled on about a goddamn garden. The surprise in his features slowly faded into the hazy, lust filled gaze you were so familiar with, and you smiled triumphantly.
"Get your ass inside right fuckin' now before I do somethin' that'll get us both thrown in jail," he growled, something primal shifting in his face while his body flooded with arousal, his need for you dripping heavier in his veins with each steady beat of his heart.
You squeaked and covered your ass when he swat at you from behind, then you hurried past him, back into the house.
Looking back on it, to think you would have made it upstairs to your bedroom was comical. His hands grabbed your hips halfway up the carpeted steps, pulling you down as you laughed giddily and pretended to try to fight off his attack, clawing fruitlessly at the stairs while he smiled into your lower back where his mouth was alternating kisses and bites across your skin.
"You wanted attention, you got it," he mumbled before yanking your shorts down and sinking his teeth into the flesh of your ass. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to make you yelp in surprise and leave a few linear indents in your skin.
Joel usually took his time with you. He preferred it that way. He liked to watch your face as he tormented you between your legs. He liked to see what new sounds he could pull from your throat when he changed an angle.
But not that day.
No, that day he yanked your shorts all the way off, tossing them over his shoulder and down the steps before grabbing your hips with his hands, all rough and sweaty from working outside.
You braced yourself for the inevitable stretch, the welcome yet slightly painful intrusion that you yearned for, but what happened next shocked you.
Your eyes widened and you gasped when you felt his mouth descend on your pussy from behind, his tongue immediately setting an intense pace, which was a change from the way he usually ate you. But speed and passion weren't the only variation. He never, ever went down on you from behind before.
"I- J-Joel, what are... oh," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he lapped eagerly at your core. Instinctively, you spread your hips and sunk down further onto his mouth. Your cheek was rubbing harshly against the carpet and your lips were parted, allowing a small trail of drool to trickle down your chin. If you had any awareness left, you might have cared, but the pleasure he was building between your legs left your brain completely numb.
"Oh, fuck yes, Joel - keep going, just like that," you groaned, reaching behind you blindly to grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck you and that fucking mouth," you gasped when his tongue flatted against your clit. He chuckled against your core but didn't stop. His hand slid up the back of your thigh and gave your cheek a firm jiggle before smacking his palm down across your ass. You jolted forward, your forehead bumping up against the next step, and cried out for more so he did it again, but on the other side.
"You like that?" he panted, pulling away from you for just a moment to catch his breath. You arched your back, giving him a generous view of the mess he left between your legs and he was afraid for the first time ever that he might come completely untouched. He inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw your cunt pulse, calling to him like a goddamn siren at sea. "Fuck, so beautiful," he growled before closing his eyes and picking up right where he left off.
His thumbs spread your lips so his tongue could tease your entrance, scooping up your arousal and rutting his hips against the stairs, eating you like he was about to go off to war.
"I'm... oh, shit, Joel!" you exclaimed, pulling at his hair roughly so he wouldn't dare try to stop when you were so close to your climax. And he could sense it. He was good at that. He knew what you needed sometimes before you even knew. So once again, he brought his palm down sharply across your ass, a little harder that time but not too much. Just enough to leave a few seconds of sting, electrifying your nerve endings and pulling you over the edge.
Two tears rolled down your cheeks when you came. The little bit of pain from his hand and the carpet digging into your cheek and knees mixed with your pleasure in such a way that it left you breathless.
Finally, once he felt your legs begin to tremble and whimpers fell from your lips, he pulled away with a deep gasp. His eyes were pinned to the way your pussy looked; all drenched with a combination of his spit and your release, and he cursed under his breath.
"She looks so fuckin' good, baby, wish you could see what I see," he murmured, mesmerized as he continued to stare without any shame. You hardly had any of your senses. Your breath was ragged and your throat was dry but still, you tilted your chin and whispered, "show me."
A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes lit up.
"Yeah? You'd let me take a picture of this pretty pussy?" he asked, but he was already digging in his back pocket for his phone. You nodded, eyes still closed.
When both his hands left your waist, you arched your back a bit more and spread your legs, presenting yourself to him. You heard a deep groan rumble from his chest and he whispered, "fuckin' natural, baby," before you heard the shutter on his phone. One, two, three times at least you heard the familiar little click, click, then he leaned over your slumped body and slid his phone in front of your face.
"See? Look at you. Look at what I get to see," he murmured into your ear. Your eyes opened and widened as you stared at your wrecked pussy on the screen.
"Oh, wow," you breathed, not expecting at all to find it sexy, but you did. You fucking did. "Look at what you did to me," you said, craning your neck over your shoulder. His eyes flickered with heat and his mouth crashed down onto yours.
"Just wait til I split you open on my cock," he said, his voice rumbling against your back. "Have you all stuffed full with my cum. Now that's a pretty sight."
You groaned and shakily pushed yourself up.
"I'm begging you, please, Joel... do not fuck me on these stairs. My knees are killing me."
He laughed and helped you stand, legs wobbling just a little.
"Nah. I got an idea and we can't do it here."
You laid underneath the covers in bed, your lower half still bare and your tank top still on while you nervously chewed on your lower lip, watching Joel at the foot of the bed tinker with a camcorder he had buried somewhere in his closet that he swore up and down he never used with anyone else.
Never wanted to before, he had said when you eyed it suspiciously after he explained he swiped it from a set when it was used as a prop in one of his films years ago.
"Battery's dead but I'll just leave it plugged in," he said, then he flipped out the little screen tucked into the side of the device and swiveled it around so it was facing out. He set it on his end table and adjusted it until he was satisfied with the angle, then looked over his shoulder with a grin.
"You sure?" he clarified again. Your eyes flickered from him to the camera, then back again.
"Yeah," you squeaked, your voice very clearly betraying you. His gaze softened and he leaned across the bed to press a chaste kiss against your forehead.
"We don't gotta do this," he assured you. "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."
"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I want to, I'm just nervous."
He scoffed and readjusted himself so he was lying next to you, blocking the idle camera.
"Nothin' to be nervous 'bout. It's just for me 'n you," he murmured before cupping your face and pressing his lips tenderly against yours. When his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, you sighed and looped your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace and deepening the kiss. His hand slid down from your cheek to squeeze your breast, groaning a little when he pinched your nipple through the fabric of your tank top.
His lips dragged down to your jaw, his teeth grazing your throat until he found a spot he liked and latched on while pushing the sheets from your body. The anticipation bubbled up while his hand continued to travel lower, your legs instinctively falling open for him. You finally relaxed when he successfully distracted you with his fingers through your folds and gasped as he slid two inside you with ease.
"Oh, yeah, you're ready for me," he moaned into your neck, his erection bordering on painful. He exhaled shakily when one of your hands wrapped around his length and began to gently stroke him, your palm so soft and warm that he almost forgot about the camera.
"C'mon, baby, sit up f'me," he said, pulling his hand from between your legs and leaning back so he could kick his jeans off. You scrambled to sit, your breaths coming in shallow pants as you watched him tug his shirt over his head. When he reached for the hem of your tank top, he paused and turned to tap the record button on the camcorder. Instantly, your limbs went rigid and your hands fell to your lap, covering yourself, but when he turned back to you he pinched your chin in his fingers, pulling your nervous gaze from the camera lens.
"Eyes on me," he told you, his voice low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.
You nodded and raised your arms so he could peel off your tank top. He tossed it onto the floor and sat back on his heels to admire the way your tits sat exposed to him, his eyes darkening when your nipples hardened with arousal. He lunged forward and took one in his mouth, his hot, wet tongue lavishing your pebbled skin before switching to the other one. You tipped your head back and moaned, mouth open as you stared up blankly at the ceiling, your fingers rising to get tangled in his hair.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, planting little kisses all over your chest and circling his arms around your ribs, tugging you closer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trembling when his cock pressed between your bodies, his erection sliding through your wet heat and suddenly you couldn't breathe.
"I-I need you," you whimpered, weakly lifting your hips into his lap.
"I know, baby, I know," he hummed. One hand dropped to cup your ass so he could reposition his legs underneath you, then flexed his hips so the tip of his cock lined up with your opening. "Want me to fuck you just like this? Sittin' in my lap?"
You nodded, your eyelids heavy with desire as you tightened your grip around his neck. The second he pressed into you, you gasped. He watched with adoration as your eyebrows pinched together in concentration, breathing deep and slow as you relaxed and slowly took him.
"Joel," you whispered, jaw slack. "Joel, I love you."
He moaned and pulled your hips flush with his, forcing you to take the last few inches all at once. "I love you, too, baby. Christ, you're incredible. Fuckin' look at you."
Look at you. His words made you remember the camera. Your eyes flickered over to the little rectangular screen, the outline of your bodies perfectly centered, and you swallowed tightly.
"Pretend like it's the mirror," he whispered in your ear as he began to gently rock in and out, "just like the mirror at the hotel, okay?"
You nodded and sighed, your shoulders loosening and your muscles relaxing as you began to roll your hips in rhythm with his. He tightened his grip around your middle, his body engulfing you in warmth. You rested your head on his shoulder as he continued to fuck you nice and slow, stretching you out around him, reaching depths that had you reeling.
This was it. There was nothing else outside those four walls. You had everything you ever wanted right there. The way he kissed you, touched you, made love to you always left you feeling so safe. Deep down, you always knew he was the missing piece in your life, the mysterious thing you kept searching for in others and were always left disappointed. Because nobody else ever loved you and cared for you the way he did.
"I'm so lucky to have you," you told him, your tongue dragging up his neck, collecting the dried sweat with a moan. You began to bounce in his lap a little faster and he immediately matched your pace with thrusts of his own.
"I'm the one who's lucky," he said through clenched teeth. He exhaled heavily through his nose and tucked his chin to his chest so he could watch himself disappear inside your cunt. "So soft. Softest pussy. So fuckin' warm and wet, you feel so good. Goddamnit, every fuckin' time..."
You smiled to yourself as you listened to him ramble. "Maybe we're both lucky."
He chuckled and you gasped when his cock brushed up against that one spot that made you see stars. You feverishly grabbed his face with both hands and bit desperately at his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth and making him groan.
Your body was loose and pliant now, so with more confidence you quickened the roll of your hips, relishing in the way his cock felt dragging in and out of you, how your clit rubbed against the coarse hair at his base, in the noises you managed to pull from his throat each time your skin slapped together.
"Yeah, that's it, baby. Show me what you like. Oh, good girl," he groaned, hands sliding up your back to hold you as you began to lose yourself. He could see it in the look in your eyes and the way your fingers dug into his shoulders.
It was the most beautiful fucking thing.
Your body moved perfectly in tandem with his, your sharp gasps and his deep groans filling the room, the camera long forgotten by now.
"Oh, god, I'm close," you whimpered as you felt the heat that had been building begin to quickly creep up and spread through your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Oh, god... Joel, don't stop, please..." you begged, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your vision began to blur.
"I ain't stoppin'. C'mon, give it to me, lemme feel you," he growled. He snapped steadily into you now, each thrust punctuated by a grunt while his eyes locked on yours, watching with pride as you crumbled and fell apart, your walls squeezing him so beautifully as you came that it nearly pulled him right over the edge with you.
It happened fast. One second you were in his lap, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and the next he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees. Only when you felt his thick cock slide back inside did you fully realize you had switched positions. And shit, taking him from that particular angle always was so much more intense, but combined with the fact that your new view included the camera in the corner of your eye made everything so much more powerful.
You could fucking see him now and you couldn't look away, completely entranced with the way his face looked as he slammed into you. His mouth hung open as he looked down at you with what could only be described as complete and utter desire. You could feel his hand running up the length of your spine but you could also see the look of worship in his eye, the way his face twisted in pleasure when he watched your ass ripple from the force of his hips, and you felt a heavy wave suddenly crash over you once again.
"Oh, fuck!" Joel groaned loudly as he watched another orgasm shoot through you. His hands grabbed at your waist to try to keep you still, but you were trembling everywhere and you couldn't hold yourself up any longer.
You fell onto your elbows, the side of your face pressing into the bed while he held up your hips, fucking into you harder now that he could tell you were spent. "I'm gonna come, baby, I'm -" he cut himself off with a desperate whine, the buildup from the past hour or so becoming too much and causing his release to intensify.
Your bodies finally stilled and he pumped you full of his spend, his groans getting caught in his throat as he pulsed inside you. He watched in a daze when his cum started to leak out even though he was still inside, and without thinking, he snatched the camera from the bedside table so he could get a close up.
"Fuckin' hell, baby," he whispered hoarsely, chest heaving and hands shaking as he held the camera at his chest, pointing it down to where you were connected. "So glad you're back on the pill. Fuckin' beautiful, all full of me like this. Shit," he muttered, swiping a finger to collect some of his release to rub it over your clit. With a whine, your body jolted forward and he chuckled before dropping his hand, knowing you were too overstimulated.
"Joel," you whispered tiredly. Your eyelids were heavy and your thighs were shaking from the effort of holding yourself up.
"I know, baby, just one more thing and then I'll clean you up," he promised. He took a deep breath and steadied the camera before slipping out of you.
He made a pained noise in the back of his throat when he watched through the lens the way your body leaked of him, your pussy all swollen and stretched out, completely fucked, messy and used.
"Jesus," he croaked, wishing he could keep filming but your body sagged forward and he stopped the recording before tossing the camera onto the other side of the bed so he could check on you.
"You alright?"
You nodded, eyes closed, lips bitten raw, hair a complete mess but you still wore a satisfied smile.
"Tired. I think I'm gonna just..." you yawned and stretched out your shaky limbs. "Just gonna close my eyes for a sec."
He grinned and stood up to go to the bathroom, plucking a couple clean washcloths from the linen closet and wetting them both under the faucet so he could clean himself up with one and take the other back to you.
"Did you eat?" he asked softly as he gently and carefully dragged the washcloth through your thighs. You shook your head, eyes still closed. "I'm gonna go make you somethin'. Gotta eat, honey," he whispered before kissing the top of your head and covering you with the sheet. But by the time he came back upstairs with a bagel and cream cheese, you were fast asleep.
So you're getting married, then?
Well, he hasn't really asked me, not in so many words.
Four, you mean?
Huh?
Well, that's how many it takes: will you marry me?
Your eyes fluttered open when you heard two familiar voices reciting an even more familiar dialogue from the television, the volume turned down so low, you could hear the neighbor's dog barking from four houses down.
Joel shifted in bed next to you as quietly as he could, unaware you had awoken. You peered up at him, hair all messy, chest still bare, and you smiled when you caught him stifling a laugh at Audrey Hepburn.
"Hey," you said, voice coming out rougher than you expected, so you cleared your throat. He immediately muted the television and turned toward you, grinning as his eyes raked up and down your sleep-addled face.
"Hey, yourself," he said softly. He pushed the hair off your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek while he continued to examine you closely. "Feelin' okay?"
You nodded and yawned, stretching your sore legs out underneath the blankets. "You fucked me into a coma."
He laughed heartily and rubbed his palm over his chest, embarrassment flushing his bronzed skin.
"But I guess that's what I get for shacking up with a pornstar," you added with a giggle. He tossed his head back and laughed even louder at that and you couldn't resist, his happiness too infectious. You inched forward and nuzzled into his side, his arm dropping to wrap around your shoulders.
When the laughter died down, he gazed lovingly at you and, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, reminded you, "ex-pornstar, but I suppose old habits die hard, huh?"
"Mm, maybe, but that's okay," you said, tracing light, invisible patterns on his stomach. "It's nothing I can't handle."
He cocked an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Careful, or I might have'ta hold you to that."
"Bring it on, superstar," you whispered before leaning up and pressing a gentle, soft kiss against his mouth. You licked your lips and hummed before looking up at him through your lashes. "Cream cheese?"
"I made you a bagel, but you fell asleep," he admitted, "but figured we could relax the rest of the day. Order in, watch movies... just like we said we would."
"I don't remember saying we would do all that naked," you teased.
"Thought that was implied, baby," he said with a frown. "You shacked up with a pornstar, what'd you expect?"
What did you expect? Did you ever imagine your life would turn out the way it did? Sitting in bed with a sheet wrapped around you, eating Chinese food and watching a Turner Classic Movies marathon with the man of your dreams? You always wished for it; before you met, after you became friends, while you were carrying on an illicit affair, and even when you weren't on speaking terms, you always, always wished for it. But did you ever really think it would come true?
You couldn't really remember, and at that point, it didn't matter. Because you didn't care how you got there, just as long as you were together, you were happy.
You did exactly what he said you would do. You stayed in bed until the sun began to set, wasting the whole day away curled into his side watching old movies and pointing out your favorite parts, exactly the way you used to.
It was around nine when Joel suggested going out for ice cream. Let's get out, stretch our legs and walk along the river, he had said after vowing to finish your vegetable garden the next day.
And on your way out, your hands fused together even while he struggled to lock the door one handed, you looked at the chairs on his porch and smiled to yourself.
"What's that for?" he asked, tapping your cheek lovingly while you walked side by side to his truck.
"Nothing, it's stupid," you told him with a shrug.
"Ain't nothin' you got to say is stupid to me."
You sighed when he let your hand go so you could round the truck and hop into the passenger seat. After you clicked your seatbelt into place, he put the keys in the ignition but waited to turn it on. Instead, he looked at you expectantly with his eyebrows raised.
"Fine," you mumbled, "I'm gonna sound fucking crazy, but... fine."
"Oh, well now this I gotta hear," he said.
You gave him a look before turning in your seat to face him. "The chairs on your porch." He nodded.
"So far, not crazy."
You rolled your eyes. "Remember when I came by to drop off the shirts for the Jack and Jill party?"
He nodded again and you could feel the self-consciousness begin to creep up.
"We weren't on great terms back then. I had just found out you bought a house. I felt like I hardly even knew you anymore. And I was so damn nervous, I didn't want to fuck things up even more than I already had, but when I saw you had two..." You paused when you saw the flicker of understanding cross his face. "I thought you maybe found someone else. I know. It's crazy, like I said."
Joel smiled and reached his hand across the seat to lace together with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Got the second one for you."
Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise.
"What?" you breathed.
He gave you a shrug and tilted his head bashfully. "I was just waitin' for you."
Tears welled in your eyes as you fumbled with the seatbelt, unbuckling yourself so you could stretch your body over to his seat and pull him into a deep kiss.
"I thought I lost you," you whispered against his mouth, and he chuckled.
"You didn't. I was all yours that very first night, sweetheart."
You didn't even try to deny it. He was right. It seemed so obvious now. Why didn't you see it back then? But before you began to mentally chastise yourself for being so bullheaded, you stopped. You couldn't change the past, something you've been learning to accept in therapy for months now, but what you could do was focus on your future. And while you sat next to Joel as he drove towards your favorite ice cream place in town, windows down and stars twinkling in the sky, you smiled because your future together looked pretty damn bright.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel miller fanfic#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#joel x reader#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us au#roommates fic
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Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |
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Masterlist
Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.
Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)
Word Count: aprox. 10k
Era: Prison, Alexandria.
Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier
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The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.
The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.
Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.
In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.
Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.
The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.
She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.
“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.
Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.
Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.
Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.
“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.
“I feel so bad for her…” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”
“Her twin brother.”
Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.
“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.
Or maybe she was more afraid of you.
“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.
"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"
"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.
Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?
You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concrete under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast but you at least wanted to try.
Daryl watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.
Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.
And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.
Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.
Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.
Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.
He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?
The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.
Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.
“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.
You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.
“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.
Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.
“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”
It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.
Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.
Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.
The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.
The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.
The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.
Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.
The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.
A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.
Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”
Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.
Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.
He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.
Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.
Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.
Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.
The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.
You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.
There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.
When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden and thought about Daryl. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.
Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.
But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.
Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.
You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.
"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.
Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.
"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.
“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.
It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.
From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.
"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.
You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.
It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.
It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.
"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.
"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.
A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."
Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt.
Most of your features were concealed by the darkness but from what was visible, you appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. There was a veil of softness to you when you slept. A softness and calmness that never graced you during waking hours. He knew it wouldn’t last very long but he wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay. But he could not stand and watch all night. He felt creepy enough.
Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.
To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.
The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.
The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.
There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.
"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"
You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"
Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.
Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.
"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.
Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.
“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.
The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.
You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.
“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.
“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”
Stop.
You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. You knew the truth behind their “jokes”.
You are not soft. You are not delicate. You are not loveable.
“The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.
“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.
Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.
Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.
The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.
You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.
“Didn’t know you were religious.”
“I’m not.”
It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.
“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”
“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.
“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”
Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”
Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.
You laughed. And Daryl was in church.
Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”
Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”
After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.
Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.
Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.
“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”
“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.
The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.
Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.
Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.
There’s so many things I want to say to you.
Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.
The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.
There’s so many things I want to say to you.
So say them.
Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.
Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.
When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.
What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.
But now, you were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.
You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.
When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”
“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.
Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.
Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.
In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.
It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.
You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”
“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”
“I don’t know.”
You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.
“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”
Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”
Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”
Virginia?
You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”
You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”
Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“
“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.
“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”
“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”
Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.
There’s so many things I want to say to you.
So say them.
As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.
It was easier to die than to say them.
“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”
The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.
You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.
“Hey Y/n.”
Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.
“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.
You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.
When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."
Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.
The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”
Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.
“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”
Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.
You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”
“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”
“I love you.”
Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”
Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.
The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.
With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.
As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.
“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”
Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“…Bein’ happy.”
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A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#daryl x y/n#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead#daryl x you#twd#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#daryl twd#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixon oneshot#daryl dixon angst#daryl dixion x reader#twd x reader#daryl / reader#twd fanfiction#daryl dixon / reader
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Text
Can’t Get Enough
Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black F!Reader
Word Count: 2.8 (She A Big One 😂)
Requested: I just want a fic of Roman who’s obsessed with how thick his girlfriend is, maybe she’s built kinda like Skai Jackson or even Trinity Fatu but he loves to hit and smack her ass, watch it move when they fuck, squeeze it when he walks by, I just want smut 😞
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: SMUT! Like Pure Smut .. I’m Honestly Ashamed Of Myself 🙈😂
A/n: I Honestly Wasn’t Expecting This To Be As Long But Once I Get In My Zone, It Just Be Writing😂 Hope You Guys Enjoy.
Roman couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was absolutely obsessed with your curvy figure, especially your ass. It was his favorite part of your body, a source of endless fascination and desire.
Whenever you were together, his hands were drawn to you like magnets, needing to touch, caress, and possess every inch of your soft flesh.
Almost every time you were around Roman your eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing the effect you had on him. You loved dressing up for him, choosing outfits that showcased your body, especially your generous curves. Tight dresses that hugged your hips and accentuated your waist were your signature style, driving Roman wild with desire.
The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm glow over the room as Roman returned home. He dropped his keys on the hall table with a clatter, kicking off his shoes and padding barefoot into the living room.
Upon entering , his smile widened at the sight that greeted him. You were curled up on the sofa, long legs tucked beneath you and a book forgotten in your lap as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling with affection.
Your hair tumbled over your shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the deep V-neck of the fluffy loungewear set you were wearing, which accentuated your cleavage.
There you are," he said, crossing the room in strides and pulling you to your feet for a kiss. "God, I've missed you."
"Mmm, I've missed you too." You moaned softly as your lips met, arms wrapping around his neck.
You wore no bra, and Roman could feel your breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples hardening at his touch.
As y’all kissed, he slid his hands down your back, savoring the soft feel of your skin, and then lower, grasping a handful of your ass. You giggled, breaking away from the kiss, your eyes sparkling with what could only be lust.
"Roman!" You chided playfully, swatting his hands away. "Behave yourself. I was just about to make some dinner."
"Oh, let me help with that," he said, his eyes never leaving your body as you started to walk past him towards the kitchen. He admired the way your hips swayed beneath your knitted shorts, the fabric hugging every curve.
"You know I love to watch you cook," he added, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he followed you into the kitchen, pressing up against you from behind as you opened the fridge.
"Is that so?" You asked, a smile in your voice. "And here I thought you just liked to eat."
"Oh, I do," he said, nipping at your ear, his hands sliding up your stomach to cup your breasts. "I love to feast on every inch of you."
You gasped, breath catching in your throat as his thumbs brushed over your already sensitive nipples.
"Roman, we have food to make," you protested weakly, even as you leaned back against him, your head falling back to give him better access to your neck.
"Mmm, you taste as sweet as ever," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your throat as his hands continued their exploration.
One hand slipped lower, sliding between your legs, his fingers teasing at the damp fabric of your panties.
"Oh, God..." You moaned, your knees buckling slightly as his fingers found your clit, circling it gently. "We—we can't... Not yet..."
"Why not?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers continuing their relentless torture. "I want you now, Yn. I need to feel you around me, those tight, wet walls squeezing me..."
"Roman, please..." You whimpered, one hand holding onto the fridge, the other clutching at his arms as your legs trembled.
You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you, and your body craved his, but you knew if y’all started now, you wouldn't make it to dinner.
With a final, teasing stroke, Roman relented, withdrawing his hand and stepping back, his eyes glittering with desire. "Fine," he said, his voice strained. "But we finish this later. I want you screaming my name, Yn."
You shivered at his words, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you.
"I always do," you promised, eyes locking with his as you straightened your clothes.
Dinner was a relaxed affair, with soft music playing in the background and candles flickering on the table, casting a warm glow over your plates of pasta and glasses of red wine.
You both talked and laughed easily, sharing stories from your day as you enjoyed the simple pleasure of a home-cooked meal.
But despite the casual atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension and desire thrummed between you, an unspoken awareness of what was to come later that night.
Every so often, Roman's gaze would linger on your body, taking in the way your shirt dipped low to reveal a hint of cleavage, or the way your hair fell over your shoulders, concealing yet tantalizing.
And You, for your part, was equally aware of him, the way his eyes followed your every move, the way his broad shoulders filled out his shirt, and the way his strong, calloused hands moved as he ate and drank. You knew what those hands could do, the pleasure they could bring, and the thought made your core clench with need.
As you both finished your meal, Roman pushed back his chair with a scrape and stood, crossing to the kitchen to put away the dishes. You watched him move, your pulse quickening as you took in the way his jeans hugged his narrow hips and powerful thighs.
"Come here, Yn," he said, his voice low and commanding as he returned to the table, holding out a hand to you.
You rose from your chair, heart pounding, and placed your hand in his, feeling a spark of electricity as your fingers intertwined. He pulled you close, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you against the hardness that was already growing insistent at his groin.
"I need you," he growled, his lips brushing your ear as he pressed himself against you. "Now."
You whimpered, your body melting against his, all thoughts of resistance forgotten, hands clutching the sides of his face, pulling his lips down to yours for a hungry kiss.
With a growl, Roman swept you up into his arms and carried you from the kitchen to your shared bedroom.
You laughed, a breathless, excited sound, as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind them and strode toward the bed, laying you down gently on the soft, rumpled sheets.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes devouring you as he loomed over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the light.
You reached up, tugging at his shirt, and he quickly pulled it over his head, revealing his muscular chest and arms, the light from the bedside lamp casting shadows over his defined abs.
"Mmm" was all you said, as your hands glided over his skin, marveling at the feel of him. "I love your body."
He smiled, a flash of white teeth in the dim light, and leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, even as his hands went to work, tugging at your clothes, eager to reveal and explore every inch of you.
He took a moment to appreciate your body, the sight made Roman's mouth go dry.
"You look incredible," Roman whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.
Soon, you were both naked, clothes discarded on the floor, mouths never leaving each other, hands desperate to touch and feel.
You moaned into his mouth as he pulled you against him, your bare skin sliding against his, nipples hardening as they brushed against his chest.
Roman broke the kiss, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hands roamed, squeezing and caressing your breasts, your hips, your thighs.
Roman's strong hands grasped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, leaving momentary imprints on your skin.
"I love how you fill my hands," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So fucking thick and soft."
You let out a soft moan, feeling his fingers gently squeezing and kneading your ass. He loved to play with it, feeling the plump cheeks yielding to his touch. He smacked your ass playfully, enjoying the way it jiggled with each strike.
"You like that, don't you?" You teased, kissing him passionately.
Roman's kisses were hungry, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands continued their exploration.
"Let me see it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Let me see that beautiful ass." Getting up off the bed.
You obliged, slowly turning around giving him a full view. You leaned forward slightly, resting your hands on the bed, offering him a perfect angle to admire your curves.
Roman's eyes traced the curve of your spine, down to the soft, round globes of your ass, now exposed and waiting for his touch.
Roman wasted no time, his hands cupping your cheeks, squeezing and spreading them apart. He admired the way your ass filled his hands, the plump flesh overflowing his grip. He delivered a sharp smack, leaving a red imprint on one cheek, then the other, watching as the skin bounced back with each strike.
"Oh, fuck, yes," You hissed, feeling a rush of pleasure and pain. "harder."
Roman obliged, his hand connecting with your ass repeatedly, leaving a mosaic of red handprints on your skin. You moaned loudly, your body trembling with each impact. He reached down, sliding his fingers under you, finding your wetness.
"You're so fucking wet," he growled, his fingers sliding easily through your folds.
You arched your back, pushing your ass towards him, inviting more of his touch.
Roman's fingers delved deeper, finding your sweet spot. He rubbed you firmly, his thumb circling your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
"You like it when I touch you here?"
"Oh, God, yes..." you gasped, your head falling to the bed.
"That's it, let me hear you," he encouraged, his voice a husky growl as he added a second finger, thrusting slowly into your wet heat. "Let me know how much you love it."
"Oh... Oh, Roman..." you moaned, your hands clutching at the bedsheets, your back arching as his fingers worked their magic, curling just right to hit that hidden spot deep inside you. "I love it... I love the way you touch me... Please, don't stop..."
"I don't plan to," he growled, adding a third finger, stretching and filling you as he rubbed your clit with his thumb. "Come for me, Yn. Scream my name."
"Roman!" You cried out as your body dropped to the bed as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, an electric tension building, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you. "Oh, God, Roman!"
"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice a low, sexy rasp. "Let me feel that pussy squeezing my fingers."
You couldn't hold back any longer. As Roman's fingers worked their magic, you came hard, your body shaking, a chorus of moans escaping your lips. Roman continued to stimulate you, drawing out your orgasm, until you were reduced to a quivering mess, your legs weak and your body drenched in sweat.
As your body shuddered and convulsed, Roman turned you back around and lowered his head, taking a hard nipple into his mouth, sucking and laving it with his tongue as your cries echoed in his ears. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you as you felt the after shocks of your orgasm wash over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.
Slowly, you came back to earth, your body relaxing against the bed, a lazy smile curving your lips as you opened your eyes to find Roman watching you, his eyes dark with desire.
"That," you said, your voice a hoarse whisper, "was amazing."
"We're not done yet," he promised, his voice thick with need. He withdrew his hand from between your legs, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and brought them to his mouth, sucking your essence from them as you watched, your heart pounding.
Then, with a low growl, he hooked his arms under your knees, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders as he settled between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your wetness.
"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice strained with his own need as he rubbed the head of his cock against your sensitive clit.
"Yes," you moaned, your eyes fluttering closed as the sensation sent sparks of pleasure through you. "Please, Roman, I need you."
With a groan, he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside you with one smooth stroke.
"Ahh!" You cried out, your eyes flying open as you felt herself stretch around him, your body accommodating his size.
"You feel so damn good," he grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control, his hips stilled as he gave you a moment to adjust.
"Move, Roman," You pleaded, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Please..."
With a growl, he began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into you, his hips snapping forward as he set a relentless pace.
"Oh, God..." you moaned, your head tossing from side to side on the pillow, your breath coming in short gasps as he filled you over and over. "It's—it's too much..."
"It's never too much," he growled, his hands gripping your thighs as he drove into you, his balls slapping against you with each powerful thrust. "You take all of me, Yn. You take every inch."
"Yes..." you whimpered, your body trembling as he pounded into you, the bed creaking beneath them. "I'm trying... Oh, God, Roman..."
"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his teeth gritted as he fought to hold on, his own pleasure building to a peak. "Take it... Take my cock..."
"I'm trying..." you moaned, your nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his waist as you met his thrusts, your hips moving in perfect rhythm with his. "Oh, Roman, it feels so good..."
"You feel good," he grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. "So tight and wet...”
"Yes..." you moaned, your body on the brink again, your walls clenching around him as you chased your own release. "Come for me, Roman... Let me feel it..."
“Mmm not yet” Roman moaned as he pulled out, turning you back onto your hands and knees. “Gotta see that ass clap from behind”
You felt the head of his cock breaching your entrance again, stretching you, filling you in ways only he could. Roman's hands gripped your hips tightly as he began to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of your, wet pussy.
"Yes, fuck me," You urged, pushing back against him. "Fuck this ass."
Roman obliged, his hands leaving red marks on your skin as he guided you onto his cock. He pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, driving you closer to the edge.
"You love it when I fuck that fat ass, don't you?" Roman growled, his voice filled with primal desire.
"Yes, yes, I do!" You cried out, your body on fire.
Roman's grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you with abandon. He pulled your hair back gently, exposing your neck, and planted wet kisses along your sensitive skin. His thrusts became more urgent, his cock throbbing inside you.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he warned, his voice strained.
You could feel his cock twitching inside you
With a loud groan, he let go, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, his hips stuttering as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through him.
"Roman!" You cried out, the sensation causing your own orgasm to crash over you, your walls milking him as your body shook with release. "Oh, God, Roman!"
As your cries echoed in the room, You and Roman collapsed onto the bed, (more so you collapsing onto the bed and him collapsing onto you) his full weight pressing you into the mattress but not crushing you as he fought to catch his breath, his heart pounding against your chest.
"Wow," you breathed, your hands stroking his back, a lazy smile curving your lips. "That was..."
“Incredible," he finished for you, lifting his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, and rolling over next to you. "You're incredible." Roman whispered, his hands gently caressing your ass as you curled into his side. "I can't get enough of you."
“You can’t get enough of me, or my ass” you laughed, feeling his hands go from caressing your ass to grabbing fistfuls.
“Yes”
The End
Tag List
@whatdoeseverybodywant @trippinsorrows @rollinssection @cyberdejos2 @amandairene88 @loloschive
#imagines#roman reigns fic#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns x reader#wwe fanfiction#wwe smackdown#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns smut#smut
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