#where she can really express herself and decorate

[screenviolense]

me: well time to make ivy's little cottage house! can't wait to design her place me: spends the entire time making the "guest" bedroom that hortensia would stay in when visiting because ivy is actual the best half sister in the world

[malfoys-demigod]

Hiii I don’t know if you write these type of things but could you write a fluff where reader and Logan have a baby girl and their planning their birthday party with some of the X-men? Thanks!!

Planning for the baby girl’s 1st birthday party

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: I kinda divided scenes into 2 scenarios and made the baby girl almost 1 year old! I hope that was okay, love! Enjoy!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Preparations for the Cake:

“Would it be a cliche if we decided on strawberry cake since we’re throwing a birthday party for a baby girl?”

This was an important question asked by Rogue, who tasked herself with baking the cake.

You looked at Logan with an inquisitive look. This first birthday party for your child was sincerely important and as much as you wanted to throw a classic first birthday party, you somehow did not want to turn classic into typical.

“She does make a point, Logan.” You noted, putting a finger on your chin as you started brewing deep thoughts on a question Logan thought didn’t need much pondering.

“Doll, it’s not like she’s gonna remember the taste of her first birthday cake,” he chuckled lightly, hoping you wouldn’t take that comment seriously by any chance.

What he got in return was you, trying your best to pull off a serious look, but the corners of your mouth said something else. “You are definitely not getting any cake! AT ALL!”

Logan took a step closer, playing a better game than you with a better serious look. “Is that right, darl?”

As he was towering over you, unsure of whether to kiss you or just keep making you flustered, Rogue, forgetting about her two parent figures being right in front, made a really, really bad fake cough sound.

“Can’t you two continue that later? In your bedroom? I really need to know what to bake! Don’t you guys want to taste it out before the party?”

“Strawberry’s fine, Marie,” Logan murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and breaking eye contact between the two of you to give a small nod to his daughter figure.

The decorations:

“Oh, aren’t these balloons just the cutest!” You said in awestruck.

Storm and Jean came back from shopping around town, buying all sorts of decorations from balloons, banners, balloons shaped into letters, etc.

They let you and Logan walk around the living room of the mansion alone, strategizing where to place all the newly-bought decorations.

Using your powers, you started floating around the room, drafting placements for the balloons first, placing them around the wall that included the fireplace while Logan was pumping air into the rest of the balloons.

As you placed some tape on the balloons, you heard a loud pop, followed by a loud, “SHIT!”, and… followed by another loud pop and same curse.

You looked down to the ground, seeing Logan standing with agitation on his face. He was looking around the two balloons he popped, now onto you as you flew towards him.

“Logan, hey,” you landed, walking to him, “Are you alright?”

You placed your hands on his face, cupping him with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, I think I made the balloons too big and they suddenly popped after that.”

It seemed Logan felt bad about the two wasted balloons. He looked down and muttered a small sorry, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

A small chuckle came out of your mouth, adoring your ‘tough guy’ significant other act so unease about such a small issue. “They were just two balloons, Logan,” you assured him, “How ‘bout I take over pumping out the last balloons for now and you can place the ready ones around, yeah?”

Logan expressed tenderness, smiling at his loved one and planting a short but loving kiss on your lips.

He turned around, picking up the balloons and placing them beside the ones you placed.

Before he could place more, he looked over to you as you were pumping air into the balloons and said, “Hey,” he said, getting your attention, “How’d I get so lucky?”

There was a twinkle in your eye as you heard his question, “You already know my answer, Logan.”

Logan turned around again, now smiling from ear to ear to himself, still unable to process the fact that he got an amazing woman by his side, and now.. an amazing little piece of him and his woman in the form of a dear baby girl.

Whether he was nonchalant about it or not, he’s been dying to throw his baby girl the best birthday party he and his significant other could ever give.

[lemonlover1110]

Girl Dad

Dad Series

Kento Nanami

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Taking care of a baby and a five-year-old isn’t easy, but Kento has it covered. You have a bad cold, the man can’t let you near his daughters. You need to rest and he won’t risk having the girls sick. However, Kento didn’t realize how much of a handful they would be.

Suki herself is enough to fill up Kento’s plate, but having a ten-month-old baby on top of it makes his job even more difficult. Suki loves her little sister, don’t get her wrong, but she will ensure that she’s the favorite daughter even if that includes sabotaging a toddler. Kento knows it, that’s why he keeps his eyes on her.

But Kento can’t keep his eye on Suki at all times, especially when you’re sick. He’s trying to cook a nutritious meal, he can’t hold a baby that loves to touch everything. The easiest solution is to put her in her playpen while he gives Suki something to entertain herself with. It’s usually his phone, giving her a game to play before he begins his other duties.

Sometimes the phone isn’t enough to entertain her. Suki loves to wander around the house, painting on the walls, playing with your decoration, making “potions” with your lotions and perfumes– The list goes on. But sometimes all of that isn’t enough to entertain her.

“Daddy, can I paint your nails?” Suki asks, walking to the kitchen where Kento makes lunch for everyone. Soup for you, something bland for his picky daughters, and then something simple for himself. In other words, his hands are full.

“Later, Suki.” Is all he says, and Suki stomps her little feet, walking back to the living room with her kid nail polish. Her little arms are crossed, and she looks around for something to do, something that will express her anger. She looks down at her nail polish then she hears some cooing from the playpen, and a lightbulb turns on.

Not even five minutes pass, and Kento hears his eldest daughter yelling at the baby. He turns off the stove and walks to the living room to hear Suki yell, “Bad, Chichi! Bad!”

“She’s not a dog, Suki. That’s your baby sister.” Kento corrects her because Suki treats the baby as her dog. Kento walks over to the playpen, where Suki reprimands the baby. Suki’s nail polish is spilled in front of the baby, and before her chubby hands can lay on top of the puddle, Kento picks her up from the playpen. “What happened here?”

“I climbed into the pen to play with her but she grabbed my nail polish and started to throw it around. Like usual.” Suki is a great actress, sticking out her bottom lip and crossing her arms.

“Is that true Chichi?” Kento softens his voice while talking to the clueless, happy baby. She smiles, causing Kento to smile back at her. He kisses her chubby cheek before putting his attention back on Suki. He hates to reprimand her but he can’t let her get away with everything anymore. “I’m not a dumbass, Suki. You can start doing bad things and blame it on her when she’s two or three, right now that won’t work.”

“I’m telling the truth!” She claims, but Kento is hearing none of it. She knows it’s not believable but her daddy usually believes her every word, so she hoped this time around he would believe her again.

“Get out of there, Suki, and stop lying before I put you on timeout again.” Kento can’t believe the words he’s saying. Timeout? Really? He hates it, he’s supposed to support her with everything, not reprimand her.

“Can I go with mommy?”

“She’s sleeping. Now go sit down on the couch and wait for the food.” He’s very serious, she can tell, so she won’t challenge him anymore.

“Can I play with Chichi?” Suki asks as Kento walks back to the kitchen with the baby. He looks at his sweet smiley baby, who reminds him so much of Suki. And to think Suki blames everything on a replica of herself– But he reminds himself that he’s the reason she acts like a little brat.

“Next thing you’ll do is put your mother’s makeup on her, you’ll blame it on the baby and we all get yelled at. I won’t risk it.” He clicks his tongue. 

Kento has to find a way to get Suki to stop blaming everything on the baby, but he has a feeling that’ll take a while.

[sweetcyberangel]

Baby, I'm yours

Bouncer!Abby x Reader > PART ONE Synopsis: Abby takes you on a date <3 tags/Warnings: 1.6k words, fluff fluff fluff, there’s a bottle of wine, Abby rides a motorbike, reciprocated lesbian pining, there’s like a tiny bit of sexual tension, they kiss!! This is so self indulgent.

Every notification that ran through Abby’s apartment sent her rushing over to her phone, face dropping in disappointment each time. Biting her lip, she scolds herself for being so impatient after only meeting you the night before. I mean, who is to say you even want to message her? You were still a bit hazy at the time she said goodbye and maybe you woke up and realized you had no interest in her. With a frustrated groan she plops down on her couch, laying her head on the back of it to stare blankly at the ceiling. Why can she not get you out of her head? 

The entire morning you had been pacing back and forth in your bedroom, your socks padding against the floors with each step. Seriously, why was this so difficult? She clearly was interested in you; otherwise, why would she have given you her number? Sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for your phone, you stare at the screen in an attempt to will yourself into just sending the message. Your fingers reach for her contact, dancing along the keyboard. Typing, deleting, typing, deleting. Every message either came out weird or too forward or seemingly uninterested. Seriously, it's been WAY too long since you’ve been into anyone. 

Finally you settled on a simple ���hey! it’s the girl from last night, thanks for the ride home”. A reply gets sent back almost instantly. 

Hearing another notification, Abby pushes down the excitement bubbling up, telling herself to stop being so desperate but when she sees a text from an unknown number, she leaps to answer it. “Hey!! It’s really no problem, I’m glad you got home safe :)” 

A week of exchanging messages back and forth, gradually getting to know one another through gentle questions and sweet remarks ends with Abby finally asking the question she’s wanted to ask since you both started talking. 

“Hey, no pressure of course but if you are free any time soon i’d love to take you on a date”

“i’d love to! i’m free tomorrow?” 

“Sounds perfect, can I pick you up at 4? I have somewhere I’d love to take you.”

The following evening arrives in a flurry of butterflies residing permanently in your stomach. You smooth out your dress for the hundredth time, glancing between your reflection in the mirror and phone lighting up with a text from Abby. 

“On my way now, see you soon :)” 

Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of seeing her again, though this time under intentional circumstances. 

Around twenty minutes later a gentle knock sounds at the door. Taking a steadying breath you mentally prepare yourself, straightening your posture before swinging the door open smoothly. Abby stands before you, hands stuffed hesitantly into the pockets of her leather jacket. Your eyes scan over her, her features are softer in the daylight. You can see the freckles on her pale cheeks that weren’t visible the night you had met. 

“Hey” she smiles, tone gentle and timid in contrast to her tough exterior. You return her smile. “Hi! come in while I grab what I need.” Stepping aside you allow her room to enter, closing the door behind her broad frame. 

Abby rocks on her heels, eyes wandering your home, taking in the decorations you have around. Her eyes land on a picture of you and - who she assumes - are your friends. A small “cute” is mumbled under her breath. “So, where are you taking me?” You inquire, curiosity piqued as you walked over to her. Her expression turns sheepish. 

“I, uh, packed us a little picnic. Figured we could watch the sunset in the park, if that’s okay?” Her words lift at the end in question, anxious she may have planned too much too soon. 

(Lesbians, can’t be casual about anything)

Your eyes are soft and earnest as you reply. “I’d really like that. Thank you, Abby” Hearing her name spoken so sweetly off your tongue gives her a surge of confidence, so she extends her hand for you to take.

As you walk out to her bike, she hands you a helmet as well as a jacket, much more prepared for a second passenger this time. Her bike roars to life beneath you once more.

All too soon the scenery blurs to a halt, Abby kicking the stand down and guiding you off with care. You watch as she lifts her helmet off, blonde strands of hair falling in front of her face. She leads you through a trail into a secluded spot, before reaching into her bag and gently spreading a blanket across the grass. There are small flowers spread across the grassy field, a river running in front of your spot. You watch in wonder as a swan glides across the water.

The sky is awash with lavenders and oranges, not a cloud in sight, and you understand now why she chose this place. It takes your breath away. 

“Abby, this is too sweet,” You say warmly, and she turns to you with a smile, shrugging her shoulders.

Wordlessly, she begins unpacking the food she had prepared. Fruits, cheeses, crackers, and some small pastries and desserts before pulling out an expensive bottle of red wine and two glasses.

Abby sits close but not too near, patient and watching with care untainted by expectation or want. “This is beautiful, Abby.”

Her smile is soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad you like it.” 

You reach over and pick up a cherry, placing it between your lips. It’s sweet and perfectly ripe. As you bite into it you feel the juice trickle down your chin, but before you can reach to wipe it away Abby's fingers are swiping away at your bottom lip, and when you look up at her she chuckles under her breath. “So messy”. She says it absent-mindedly, with no implication or second meaning, but your mind fogs up. Doe eyes meeting hers, she watches your pupils expand and a cocky grin graces her lips before she lifts her fingers to her lips, sucking the cherry juice off before going back to looking out at the water. Your breath catches in your throat and your teeth press softly into your lip before following her gaze out to the stream. you soak in the tranquil setting drenched in the warmth of the setting sun. 

Tentatively, you shift closer till your sides are pressed together, both as a search for warmth in the cool dusk air and the want for closeness you feel building deep inside you. Abby smiles at the movement, curling a strong yet tender arm around your waist. Her calloused fingers trace absent patterns along your hip bone through the fabric, sending tingles up your spine. 

The rest of the sunlight you have is spent like this, voices soft and conversations filled with laughter. Absent-mindedly your hands reach for the one sitting on your waist, bringing it into your vision to trace gentle lines against it. 

As darkness falls, the air cools slightly and you can't help the small shiver that runs through you. Abby's arms tighten protectively at the action, as if on instinct.

"You cold?" she whispers softly, her breath ghosting along your hairline. You nod in response, not wishing to disturb the serenity with unnecessary noise.

Without a word she reaches behind you both, pulling the leather jacket from her shoulders and draping it around your own. The lingering warmth from her body seeps into you, that smell of pinewood invading your senses again.

As stars form above your heads, Abby turns to you as she gently squeezes your side “I should probably get you home”. You nod, silently praying that you’ll get to see her again soon. 

She packs any leftover food back into her backpack and you fold up the picnic blanket. All the effort that she put into this… It’s more than anyone’s ever done for you before. No one had ever put so much effort into their time with you, or been so delicate with you. 

Taking your hand once more, Abby walked with you to where her bike was parked near a line of trees. She helped you swing your leg over to settle in behind her before starting the engine with a rumble.

Being on her motorbike is becoming more familiar now, less nerve wrecking. 

All too soon, her motorcycle rolled to a stop in front of your house. Abby cut the ignition and swung her leg over to dismount before turning to help you off as well. Fingers curled together, you walked the few steps to your front porch in comfortable silence.

Stopping outside your front door, you turn to face her, smiling up at her with warmth spreading over your cheeks. 

“Thank you for letting me take you out,” Abby said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture. You leaned into her touch instinctively, a smile spreading on your lips.

Abby gazed at you with such fondness and care that it made your heart swell. Slowly, ever so slowly, she seemed to gravitate closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies. Her eyes flickered down to your lips in a silent question.

In answer, you slid your arms up around her neck and closed the final distance, pressing your mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. Abby's hands found your waist, holding you steady as she kissed you back sweetly. Her lips were soft and confident against your own.

Abby placed one last fleeting kiss to your lips before stepping back reluctantly. "Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep well," she murmured, caressing your cheek softly. You beamed at the new pet name.

"Goodnight, Abby. Text me when you get home safe." With that, you unlocked the door and slipped inside with a ball of light beneath your chest. 

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

A Quick Pick Me Up (Yandere Neko Cafe x Reader)

Hey, ya'll, I know ya'll like my fandom work, but I promise you my OC stuff is just as good. Please read!!!!! I just felt like doing this today! Reader is gender neutral. Also YANDERE BEHAVIOR IS UNACCEPTABLE IN REAL LIFE! IT AINT CUTE, IT'S ABUSE! SEEK HELP IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAVE SOMEONE IN YOUR LIFE LIKE THIS!

Picture belongs to @kaffee-und-liebe

Tw: Yandere tendencies, some platonic yanderes (the kids and Cocoa), some slightly suggestive content, cursing, Donut (you'll know what I mean later), mentions of abuse, and other possibly triggering content

MINORS DNI

You live in a city that is made up of mostly apartments, that don't allow you to keep a cat much less a hybrid. Too bad because you really love cats and cat hybrids. They're just so cute with their soft ears and tails and fierce expressions. When they purr? You almost die!

Which is why you are currently vibrating in front of the newest cat cafe where you can interact with cat hybrids and cats alike. It was also really close to your apartment building, so it was meant to be. The cafe was a cute brown stone building covered in vines and flowers with a black sign that in golden letters spelled out "Lucky Kitty Cafe". You felt pretty lucky standing in front of the building right now. You took a breath and entered the building.

Ding~

A set of bells tinkled cutely as your eyes widened in amazement. The place was catastic! There were paintings of cats, a cat tree decorated with potted plants, chairs with little cat ears on the back, and much more. A strange looking person with a long and thin face and vitiligo and mysterious blue green colored eyes looked up with a friendly smile. They wore head scarf with a hat with cat ears on top and a beige shirt with caramel accents.

"Welcome to Lucky Kitty Cafe, I'm Shopkeeper, are you here to see our cats and cat hybrids?" Their voice was a soothing androgynous voice. They were pretty hot not going to lie. "Yes, I'm here to see the cats!" "Wonderful~" Shopkeeper purred as they grabbed a pen and paper. "Would you like anything to eat or drink while you wait?" You smile gleefully at Shopkeeper and nod. "I'll have (cafe order) please." Shopkeeper jotted your order down and nodded. "Good taste, we'll have that order out right away for you Mx..."

"(Y/N)"

Mx. (Y/N) what a beautiful name...I can tell the staff will just love you~

For the privacy of our staff, they have been assigned names of popular cafe drinks and snacks. Their personalities our meant to cater to our wide clientele. Please take not of the following rules:

Rule 1.: Do not pick up cats

Rule 2: No pulling tails and ears of cats or staff

Rule 3: Harassment of any kind towards our cats, staff, or other customers will get you sent straight to Butch

Rule 4: Our staff are playing a role to increase your enjoyment of the cafe. The way they act in the cafe does not necessarily constitute how they act outside of the cafe.

Rule 5: Buy at least one item on the menu, this is a business after all

Rule 6: DON'T MESS WITH OUR DARLING 

Meet Our Staff

Macchiato:

Macchiato or Macchi is the unofficial mascot of "Lucky Kitty Cafe" she is a calico hybrid who is the sweetest person around. Her cheerful and bright attitude will brighten up even the grumpiest of people's days. She always is the first to greet new customers.

You were stunned when the tritone beauty perched herself directly on your lap, her orange eyes shining brightly as she bounced up and down barraging you with questions.

She was so excited to see a cute new face around the establishment! Your hands were so gentle as you pet her soft ears. She didn't feel the slightest bit of shame letting you know how much she enjoyed it with her loud purring. When your food and drink came you offered to share some with her.

With her?

She almost fell in love right then and there, no one ever offered to share their food with her in such a genuine way. The food was some of the best she ever had since she got to share it with you. She couldn't help but laugh as you gushed over the cats, you were more adorable than anyone here!

She's probably the first to go yandere, she can't help it when your sweeter than the sugary treats Shopkeeper bakes. She is one clingy motherfucker, so she'll always have some body part of yours close to her. She will also insert herself in any interaction you have with others in the cafe or outside. Don't ask her why she's here just pet her pretty tritone hair!

She wants to be the only hybrid in your life which means you may wake up with her snuggled into your arms blinking those sunset orbs at you cutely.

"Morning (N/n)! Did you sleep well? I know I did~

Collects any trash you leave behind. Dirty napkins? Now hers. Straws? She's wrapping her tongue around while thinking indecent thoughts. Lost your cute keychain? Well good luck ever finding it again because now it's a part of her shrine to you.

Don't let her cute face fool you, she will do whatever it takes to ensure that you are hers.

"(N/n) left their Chapstick here. Mmm (N/n) it's like sharing an indirect kiss with you~"

Espresso:

Meet the cafe's very own black cat Espresso. He is very quiet and aloof at first. Most people never interact with him as he will leave when people attempt to start a conversation with him. No one understands why Espresso even took a job here as he's clearly not a people hybrid.

He is no doubt one of the most handsome hybrids most people see. Beautiful dark skin and long dreadlocks accompanied with silky black ears and tail and intelligent brown eyes. His voice is very deep and mellow much like a good espresso.

He is a cat magnet as even the shyest cats can be found purring contently on his lap. He lets them hang around him as he sketches pictures of the cafe.

"You're a really good artist"

Espresso jerks at the sudden sound of your voice, how did you manage to sneak up on him? He froze as every impulse in him was confused on how to react. Run away? Thank you? Let you sit down with him? It's clear to you that the Windows shut down noise is taking place in his head right now.

"I'm sorry for startling you, I'll be on my way now."

It didn't take long for other cats and Macchi to distract you, but Espresso couldn't get the interaction out of his head. Yes, you scared him, but you didn't pressure him into conversation. You simply complimented his art before leaving.

Why did a small part of him wish you stayed?

In order for him to go yandere for you, you have to let him approach you in his own time. You must be patient as Espresso isn't used to engaging with customers like the other staff are. He is probably the last if not close to last who go yandere for you, which means you'll have an ally for when the others get too touchy.

He is very aware that the feelings that he is developing aren't the healthiest, so he tries to keep his feelings to himself. He adores your calming presence and how you can bring out the best in anybody. He begins subconsciously drawing you more and more in different scenarios. Most relatively innocent but there are enough indulgent sketches that he doesn't allow you to look through his sketch book without him supervising.

However, jealousy begins to gnaw at his gut when he sees you interacting with the others. When did Butch get so protective of you? Why do you hang around that bastard Donut? Why can't he have you all to himself? He starts to use the trust that you've built towards him to convince you to spend less time with the others. Besides that, he's one of the most harmless yanderes on this list.

"Oh, you're here, did the others smother you too much? They won't bother as long as you stay with me my muse."

Donut:

Oh boy, you got this gremlin's attention, you really are too sweet for your own good, aren't you? Donut is an orange Munchkin cat hybrid and the shortest adult of the staff (the kids are platonic yandere for you). The definition of short guy syndrome but he hides it behind a cute facade. He lays it on thick for customers to give him fat tips (get you mind out of the gutter). A little bat of the eyelash here and a flirty wink there and everyone is eating out of the palm of his hand.

"Oh, a new customer, it's so nice to meet you I'm Donut~"

"Nice to meet you Donut."

"Hee hee, do you mind if I sit on your lap?"

He plops himself on your lap and starts not so subtly grinding on you which makes you very uncomfortable, you just met this guy. Plus, this is not the place for finding a random hookup. You push him off your lap and tell him that his actions made you uncomfortable. Donut begins boiling inside. You ungrateful bitch! How dare you turn him down! Him! HIM!!!! He yells in frustration later in the empty break room. Why were you being so rude when he was just being nice? (No dude that's sexual harassment) He's made it his personal mission to seduce you and then when you fall for him laugh in your face.

Donut turns up the clueless and the sexiness up by a hundred and ten percent. He wears extra skimpy and tight-fitting shorts and skirts (with lacey panties and/or thongs) as well as unbuttoning half the buttons on his pastel pink shirt, showing you his surprisingly defined chest. He skips around with an innocent grin, only for his actions to be ignored. You evil SLUT, how dare you pretend to not see what he's doing? He should teach you to be grateful and get down on your knees like a good whore does. He ignores all the other customers in favor of hatefully glaring at you from the corner.

He follows you out of the cafe and drags you into an alley nearby pinning you to the wall (he's actually deceptively strong). He screams all of the feelings he's been bottling up towards you with tears in his eyes. You stand still for a moment unsure of what to do and then you feel him go limp. Okay this is super awkward, the guy in front of you went on a nice guy spiel and then passed out. Unfortunately, you have some morality and decide not to leave him out here when your apartment is right across the street. You scoop him up and walk to your apartment (he's really light).

Donut wakes up in a stranger's bed and thinks he took his anger out by sleeping with some rando for a quick ego boost. However, he sees you coming into the room with a plate of breakfast and set it right in front of him. Why was he at your place? You explained what happened and Donut is very embarrassed, he can't believe he was vulnerable with the person he despises with all his heart. He prepares for you to mock him cruelly, but instead you treat him with the kindness he'd never show for you. Why are you such a mature person? It makes him so mad that he starts blushing, his heart starts pumping... did you always look so handsome?

Uh oh

Donut goes from being horrible to you to being the most delusional being on the planet. You treated him with kindness, which must mean you love him and much as he loves you. He does the cute act except this time its genuine and less sexual (he learned boundaries for you so be grateful (don't he still sucks)). However, he doesn't afford the same luxury to others. He sees the way others look at you and he doesn't like it one bit. He is cruel and sadistic towards rivals all while acting like an absolute angel towards you.

"Welcome home darling! How did I get in your apartment? You invited me here silly, now come and snuggle with your one and only~"

Sugar:

Sugar is a complete MILF looking like a golden age Hollywood actress in her work uniform. She is a Turkish Angora hybrid with gorgeous long white hair plated in victory curls and bewitching heterochromic eyes (left brown and right blue with a beauty mark under the left one). Sugar was a show hybrid like her mother before her but had to leave when she became pregnant with a stray hybrid's kittens. She is very gentle and motherly with an elegant femme fatale aura to her. Sugar is considered second in command to Shopkeeper and very respected for her age and wisdom (she's in her early to mid-forties because we love older women here).

Popular with old and young alike, you were starstruck when the snow-haired beauty and spoke to you with her lightly accented voice (she's Turkish). You felt completely comfortable with Sugar and were able to get some sound financial advice from her, as Sugar knew what it was like to be young and struggling to pay bills.

"Remember that charity is no only an act of generosity but also tax deductible."

"Yes mommy."

"What?"

"What?"

She found your slight crush on her adorable as it was flattering for younger people to find her attractive. However, she didn't want to have to parent her partner as well as her twins. She doesn't immediately go yandere nor is she the slowest to go yandere for you. This feeling changed when she saw how well you got along with Cookie and Muffin (her twins). You were able to get them to listen to you as well as break up their fights which was a feat that very few outside herself could do. Color her impressed.

"Mommy is (Y/N) our new parent?"

"Now kids we need to be tactical about this-"

"They helped find a crying child's parents."

"Cookie, Muffin, say hello to your new stepparent."

Very few younger people and hybrids knew the subtle art of seduction like Sugar did, which she believes gives her advantage compared to the others. She doesn't constantly badger you for your time like Macchiato, Donut, and Cappuccino do (she's only truly worried about the romantic rivals but Cocoa is on thin ice sometimes). Nor does she play it too subtle like Espresso and Croissant do. She invites you to "platonic" dates out with her and her children to parks and restaurants. She also will subtly touch you whether it be smoothing wrinkles on your outfit or giving you chaste kiss on the cheek (she says she greets everyone that way, but you have yet to see that). She knows she attractive and how to flirt in a way that makes you blush but not uncomfortable.

She's seen the cruelties of the world and hopes that you won't have to go through have the horrors she's faced. The world isn't very kind to single moms, especially older single moms. She wants you to be happy and safe in her home, as a cute little stay at home spouse. Let her do all the hard work outside while you stay home and do some work inside (she won't let you strain yourself though). She also is a doting and spoiling yandere. She's very generous and giving towards you (even in bed) and will have all your desires met except leaving.

She's a master manipulator and will use her children as a way to get you to consider staying with her. They love you so much, you wouldn't break their hearts, right? (the kids are also manipulative little shits as well) The only people she would consider sharing (this is only in dire situations) you with is Shopkeeper and maybe Bruce. Besides that, she won't rest until you are snuggled into her chest in the bed you share.

"(Y/N) let's go out again, the kids love hanging out with you dear and I wouldn't want to disappoint them. You will, wonderful!"

Cookie and Muffin: 

Meet the mischievous mixed breeds who work occasionally beside their mother. Cookie and Muffin are loved dearly by kids their age and lonely older patrons. They love sweets and messing with member of the staff they don't like (Donut and Cappuccino mostly) with very intricate pranks. They aren't always there and met you by chance as their mother had to pick them up early from school (Muffin and Cookie can get violent with each other and the only one who can break them up is momma Sugar). Muffin is the girl with short gray hair with a single white streak and Cookie is the boy with long white hair with a single gray streak.

They saw you playing with the kittens and wanted to play too! You rough house with the twins and don't get mad when Muffin bites you a bit too hard (kitten hybrid teeth are sharp). Cookie got jealous that you are paying more attention to Muffin and the two started fighting. Normally no one is brave enough to break the twins apart from each other, but you bravely stand between them enduring multiple scratches until they stopped.

They can't believe they hurt their new playmate; their mom is going to kill them. Both start crying while apologizing profusely for hurting you. Instead of yelling at them you scratch their ears gently and tell them it's okay. Your touch is just as calming as their mother's, wait why did you stop? Keep petting them please!

They're kids so they go yandere pretty quickly as they aren't romantic interests, and you sneak them pastries you bought (much to Sugar's dismay). Both are always trying to monopolize your time and will scratch and bite any staff or customer who interrupts their "(Y/N) Time". When their mom starts having a romantic interest in you, they're ecstatic, you get to become their new parent. While they are kids, they aren't dumb as they notice other staff members looking at you the same way that their mom does. They won't let just anyone marry you, only mommy can (they can't wait to call you their baba*)!

Their pranks become almost deadly in nature towards rivals of their mom. They never get in trouble for almost killing the delivery guy because they're just kids, what do you expect? Also inherit the manipulative trait from their mother. Oh no their babysitter mysteriously quit! Could you watch them? You come over only to find that it was an elaborate ruse done by the twins, so you have family movie night with them and Sugar (they "fall asleep" on you so you're forced to spend the night). Mommy is sad because she remembered how daddy left them. Could you cheer her up?

They aren't too dangerous yanderes besides the semi deadly pranks, but they aren't to be underestimated because they're children. They want a happy family with their favorite playmate, and they'll do anything they can to get it.

"(Y/N), Muffin pulled on my hair!" "Not before Cookie bit my finger!"

"Baba don't leave!" "Yeah, we'll stop fighting as long as you're here!"

Croissant:

Ah the intelligentsia of the cafe, its own certified genius Croissant. Croissant is a lover of reading, fine art, and playing his beloved cello. He brings with him a refined aura and a thirst for knowledge. He's a blonde American Curl who always wears his beloved red scarf, even indoors. He has semi long curly blond hair in a mullet and the prettiest hazel eyes. He's got freckles that he hides with makeup. He is popular with mainly older people who enjoy engaging in discourse with him on a wide variety of subjects. He also helps tutor kids occasionally in the cafe's break room.

Croissant saw you sitting in the corner reading a book while sipping on (beverage of choice), the book you were reading happened to be one he knew about. He asked if you were enjoying the book, which caused your eyes to light up. You began to ramble to him about the book you were reading which Croissant found very adorable. Finally, he found someone that had a similar interest to him.

The two of you begin to have a routine where you would have interesting conversations about your individual interests, where each one of you would come out learning more about each other. Croissant started noticing little things about you, like how one dimple is bigger than the other when you smile, or that your nose scrunches up when you're confused. That's totally a normal thing to notice about your friend, right?

Right?

Croissant is one of the last to go yandere but goes yandere before Espresso and Butch. I mean how could anyone resist your charms forever? You never are rude or demeaning like the jealous fools in his graduate classes. You actually listen with wide eyed interest and treating him like a regular person instead of something to be revered or despised made him fall deeper into his obsession with you.

Croissant will find any way to spend more time with you. You trying to go to graduate school? He can help you study! Applying for a job? Why not work here? Other work environments won't value you the way "Lucky Kitty Cafe" would value you. So, what if you're human, Shopkeeper is human too (are they though?)! Don't even worry about filling out a resume a good word from Croissant and you'll have the job by tomorrow (even if you don't want to work there you will end up working there if Croissant has something to say about it).

Croissant never values anyone's opinion on him before, but he reveres your opinion above his own. Prefer red heads? Guess who's dying his hair? Hate his curled ears? He suddenly prefers wearing hats indoors. He can become very unstable fast so try to reassure him with love and affection. Or else no one will be able to stop the fall out. He's one hell of a stalker since he wants to know that you are okay, and no one is hurting you. Keeps extensive lists of things you like and plans for the future home the two of you will buy that is far away from this city and its impure influences.

"Ah Mx. (L/N) it's a pleasure to see you today. Care to pick up our conversation from where we left off yesterday?"

Cocoa:

Cocoa is a spunky freshly high school graduated college student who is working at the "Lucky Kitty Cafe" as a waitress for some extra money to pay for campus expenses. Cocoa is a Burmese with gigantic coke bottle glasses (she's extremely far sighted) and puffy space buns. She is popular with the teens and young adults who frequent the restaurant for her cute fashion sense and her sassy attitude.

She first met you when she spilled hot coffee all over you. The one day she forgets to wear her glasses! She immediately rushes you to the employee bathroom and apologizes profusely as she sprays cold water over the burn and begins to cry. She never meant to hurt anyone, and she may even get fired for injuring another customer (first time was no accident). You were fine thankfully but the guilt still ate away at Cocoa. She decided to spend time with you as payment and even pay for your meal. You laugh at Cocoa's guilt-ridden sad puppy eyes and compliment her nails. She immediately forgets her guilt and babbles about the cute new nail salon you should try. OMG you two should totally become BFFs!

Cocoa isn't immediately yandere and is like Sugar somewhere in the middle but further towards the immediate side. She's just hanging out with her new bestie! However, her tail bristles when she sees Macchi looping her arm around your waist, or the way that Donut coos at you while trying to feed you the cafe's newest dessert. Can't these two find their own BFFs, your hers. Great now Cappuccino is sleeping with their head in your lap! She snaps and screams at the other hybrid to leave you the hell alone, scaring many nearby cats. You tell Cocoa to calm down and that you're okay with Cappuccino doing this. What the fuck? How could you?!

After taking a second to calm down, Cocoa had to figure out why she was so worked up about you having other friends. It's good for you to have other friends...so why does it leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She doesn't hate the idea of you having friends, she just needs to be your BEST FRIEND!

Cocoa is one monopolizing and clingy girl. You have planned this weekend? Great now you can throw them out because Cocoa is taking you shopping to a cool new vintage store down the road, ooh and you can have boba tea afterwards! She bats away Macchi, Donut, and Cappuccino to have some time with her bestie, they aren't invited! She also believes as your best friend (she'll get rid of anyone who tries and replace her) she gets to pick who your future spouse is, and she is overly critical towards everyone in the cafe. No one is good enough for her bestie! She might put in a good word for the others... if they forfeit their time with you for the day (she's evil like that >:)).

Cocoa also is the type to try and hang out with you outside of the cafe by "coincidence". Oh, my what a coincidence that you both were at the supermarket at the same time looking for...mangos. Man, she loves mangos (she hates mangos)! Anyways, she found this really cute spa where they use sweet, scented bath bombs in the soak tub. Don't worry she'll pay! She also will totally snitch if she sees others trailing you (like she wasn't also stalking you) to make you like her more. Oh my god Croissant is totally following you, guess he isn't the gentleman he claims to be. What's she doing here? Don't worry about that, let's go rollar skating!

"(N/n) look there's 50% off matching sets of pajamas! Let's totally get some and have a sleep over together!"

Matcha:

You like em weird. Like really weird. Matcha is one strange hybrid. They are a Russian Blue with long bangs that cover their intense steel blue eyes. They have a couple streaks of light green in their gray blue hair. Their extremely pretty as they have a pale complexion and are lithe but when they open their mouth customers walk away in discomfort. As a result, Shopkeeper has them in the back most of the day and only really lets them come out before opening and after closing. They will be the one of the last yandere's you'll probably meet.

You were helping Shopkeeper with cleaning up after an intense day at the cafe, after all they let you stay in the comfiest table for hours after you purchased food. As well as staying after closing to feed the kitties. You also may or may not have been lured by Shopkeeper's promise of being able to take some of the leftover pastries home. Whatever your reason you were helping Shopkeeper, when Shopkeeper left to take a phone call outside. You smiled to yourself as you hummed a tune while cleaning up. You started actually singing when you heard a crash coming from the kitchen area. Strange you don't remember anyone being in the store besides you and Shopkeeper. Curiosity got the better of you and you decided to sneak a peek at whatever creature was in the kitchen.

You peer into the dark kitchen to find a skinny person holding a bent-up pan and an explosion of red all over the floor and all over the person.

"Oh, don't worry this isn't blood."

You proceeded to sock the stranger in the face and run to find Shopkeeper.

"There's a strange person with bluish hair covered in god knows what in your kitchen!"

"Oh that's Matcha."

"Who?!"

After an in-depth explanation of why this person you never saw before was standing in front of you covered in strawberry jam (they like to be one with the fruit) you were introduced to Matcha. A hybrid who smells like and probably eats dirt, an acquired taste for most (both dirt and Matcha). You apologized for punching them in the face to which they grinned and told you they like how your fist felt on their face. Okay a little strange but Shopkeeper wouldn't hire a literal serial killer, right?

You don't even know anymore

Obsessed from the minute your fist made contact with their face. Not quite yandere but interested in the reactions you make (and the pain you can give them). They actually gain romantic interest towards you slower than you think, give or take two days. You saw the large cut on their arm and helped them patch it up, it was from that moment that they planned your entire wedding in their head.

Is terrible at stalking but does it in hopes of being caught and you berating them for it (thinks it's sexy when you're mad). Fights Macchi for the things you leave behind and is found sniffing the seat where you were sitting. Is the definition of worshipper yandere as they truly believe you are a deity, and they are your acolyte. They don't care if you hate them or want them dead, as long as they can be by your side that's all that matters.

Being your acolyte also means they will do anything you ask with zeal. It doesn't matter if it's highly illegal as going to jail in your stead would be a blessing. They just love you so much that it consumes their very being. They're willing to share you with others (as long as they can watch) as long as you still let them stay by your side too.

"Hit me, stab me, choke me, leave me to die. Any act done by your hands is a blessing and a pleasure for me~"

Shopkeeper:

You got the big cheese's attention, the owner of the cafe, the mysterious Shopkeeper. Shopkeeper is alluring in an inhuman way with their sharp blue green eyes and charming androgynous voice. They loved the smile you gave them the first time you came in, what an adorable face. They also loved the face you made when you took a bite of the food you ordered, that blissed-out look is just too cute.

"Excuse me did you make this pastry?"

"Oh, why yes I did, it happens to be a family recipe."

"You're so talented, that was the best (pastry of choice) I every ate!"

Normally compliments don't faze Shopkeeper they'd reply with a nod and a polite thank you. However, you seemed so genuine and the way your eyes sparkled made something melt inside of Shopkeeper. You would surely become one of their favorite customers.

Shopkeeper is very hard to read so it can be difficult to tell when they go yandere for you. Their actions can be seen as purely platonic or as their attempt to flirt with you. They always make sure your favorite sweets are freshly made when you arrive to the cafe, they have the time you arrive memorized. If you don't like sweets, they always have something savory and tasty prepared to your liking. Keeps track of your food preferences and allergies when coming up with new items for the menu, so you can taste test them.

"I was thinking of adding this to the menu tell me how it tastes?"

"Is it necessary for you to feed me?"

"Absolutely."

One thing is for sure when they do fall for you, they begin to plan how to make you entirely theirs. Shopkeeper knows how their staff have taken a liking to you, and they don't feel like sharing (may have an easier time with the more submissive/guilt ridden ones like Matcha and Butch). They use their sweet words and actions to guide you in the right direction (right into their arms). They also aren't afraid to take care of rivals that come from outside of the cafe.

"Oh, why is there blood on my face? Just a little problem in the kitchen that's all."

Cappuccino:

Cappuccino is the Ragdoll of the group, a mellow, sleepy person. They are perfect cuddle shape with their chubby body and their big fluffy ears, hair, and tail. They are almost always asleep yet one of the most popular hybrids at the cafe for how cute and calm they are. They don't often choose who they fall asleep on, so they might have accidently fallen asleep on you.

"Oh, I fell asleep but not on a pillow."

"Hey, Cappuccino, right? I need to get to work so could you kindly..."

"Zzzzzz"

Cappuccino is pretty big both tall and chubby (because tall people can also be chubby/fat and beautiful) so it's hard to move them when they sleep, which is too bad for you since Cappuccino has decided you are their new favorite pillow. They always find you in what you're doing and force you to let them cuddle with you. After all, why cuddle with a cat now that you have Cappuccino?

"Cappuccino what are you doing in my house?"

"Ugh you're being to noisy be quiet, pillows don't talk."

"GET OUT!"

Cappuccino goes yandere for you pretty quick, but you wouldn't notice as Cappuccino is too lazy to do anything about these feelings beside scent you constantly when you cuddle. Cappuccino is clingy in the sense that they can't get good sleep unless they're clinging to you. You may have places to be, but Cappuccino is sleeping right now so you won't be going anywhere. They're adorable and they know it, so they use this to make you stay longer too. One sleepy look from those big droopy blue eyes and you are staying a lot longer than you intended. Isn't willing to pick fights with Donut, Macchi, or Cocoa, but is willing to make it out like they are bullying them.

"You shouldn't hang out with people who treat others bad (Y/N), you know I never would (they totally would)."

Their apathy is one of the scariest traits they have, they may be lazy, but they use their cuteness to get crazed fans to get rid of the competition. They are not above getting rid of others at the cafe because they don't care about the people around them. Cappuccino is also very strong as when they aren't sleeping, they are at the gym, so if they feel motivated enough, they can bash some heads in. Cappuccino only cares about you, so don't make them do anything that you may regret.

"Oh (Y/N) sorry for humping you, I was having a very...intense dream."

Butch:

Enter the devoted guard dog of the cafe Butch. The Pitbull hybrid is the tallest and strongest of the cafe and doesn't let anyone harass the Shopkeeper and staff. He sent you a threatening glare with his scared face when you arrived. He didn't know you and he hated humans for all the scars they gave him. You smiled at him and walked away. Tch, stupid human.

One by one all the hybrids fell for your charms (platonic ones are platonically in love with you) and it made Butch's blood boil. Why couldn't you be satisfied with just being a patron? Why did Shopkeeper look at you that way? Butch had a crush on Shopkeeper for saving him from his horrible life yet never had the courage to approach them. He saw the looks Shopkeeper gave you and it made him angry. He was going to confront you when he saw the scene with Donut occur. He saw the look of fear and worry on your face as you carried Donut gently to your apartment. He saw how you treated Cocoa and the twins as well as Matcha. You didn't have anything to get out of this so why do it?

His answer was given the night an old competitor from the fighting ring came at him with the intention to kill. He managed to kill the guy before he was killed but he was severely injured. He heard footsteps approach him head and he looked up to see you. You kept him awake long enough for the paramedics to arrive and take him to the hospital. The look of worry in your eyes is genuine and your smile of relief reminds him of the smile that Shopkeeper gave him that day they saved him (he's got a thing for nonbinary baddies). Your smile however was less calculated and more genuine.

Badump

Badump

Butch is the last to go yandere because Butch feels guilty. Guilty for hating you when you showed him nothing but kindness, guilty for betraying Shopkeeper like that and guilty for wanting to lock you away where no one but himself can see you. He is one overprotective and loyal pooch, who will protect you until his final breath. Good people don't deserve to face the cruelties a monster like him faced.

The most likely to be poly with you and Shopkeeper as he still holds feelings for Shopkeeper and they're both obsessed with you. You won't want for anything as he holds you in his muscular arms with his head buried in your neck to muffle the sobs.

"Please forgive me for being selfish, you're the only good thing I've got."

*Baba is the gender-neutral affectionate term for parent like mama and papa.

Sorry if it's bad towards the end, I rushed towards Cappuccino and Butch. Please feel free to request scenarios for the new ocs I dropped. ONLY PLATONIC FOR COCOA AND THE TWINS BUT EITHER ROMANTIC OR PLATONIC FOR EVERYONE ELSE.

[thesamoanqueen]

Christmas cookies

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, fluff.

A/N: I wanted to try writing a one-shot for christmas since I did it last year and @mindofasagittaruis request came at the right time. Enjoy and happy holidays yall~

One boxe at a time he had managed to arrange everything, filling the huge tree base that him and Y/N had decorated together a week before. He knew she would complain, scolding him because it was too much, but Roman liked to spoil her and for that occasion he had really wanted everything.

It was their first Christmas together as a couple and he wanted it to be special. Y/N liked Christmas, was her favorite holiday, she got more excited than a little girl every time and he had promised himself and her, to do everything possible to make sure nothing was missing. They had decorated the house inside and out, planned dinners with family, started watching christmas movies, booked a weekend out fitting it between both of their schedules and Roman had tried not to plan something more to finally give voice to that impulse that was now becoming an urgency.

Admiring his work one last time, he went to the kitchen, where Y/N had decided to spend her afternoon with the most classic Christmas songs, wearing yet another hoodie stolen not too discreetly from his closet. When he crossed the door, there was no corner where she hadn't scattered a little bit of sugar, flour and sprinkles. It was a battlefield strewn with bowls, trays, and baking ingredients that smelled of vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate, the kind of chaos that warms heart and tastes like home.

- What's going on here? – he inquired with a smile and she turned to look at him, hands dirty with who knows what raised in the air, while Roman twisted his arms around her hips to swing her playfully.

- I should ask to you, what was all that chaos back there? – she asked suspiciously, giving him one of knowing looks, but he pretended not to notice, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek and peeking what she was backing.

- Don't know, Santa probably.

- I don't remember I have written a letter to him.

- So these ones are for me? – he asked, pointing the Christmas cookies placed on the marble counter.

It wasn't the kind of food she usually prepared if she decided to get into the kitchen, she was more into salty and spicy recipes, and yet there they were, lots of gingerbread men, trees and cinnamon houses waiting to be decorated.

- It's just an experiment, I wanted to make something special but then I remembered you already have me in your life so I tried with simple things… guess they're not so simple – she reflected pouting, moving a couple of those who she had already tried to decorate.

The shapes were flawless, but icings had mixed together, dripping around and ruining the designs she'd tried to make. Not the kind of result expected from her being a perfectionist and Roman found himself smiling as he watched her look them one by one with her still dirty fingers, until he reached out to take a snowman. It was supposed to be white with a carrot-nose and a scarf he knew it, but the little one didn't have a very happy expression, a bit like her, at least until he swallowed it.

-They taste good – he approved, feeling the aftertaste of spices warming his mouth and he reached out to take another one.

Amazed, Y/N watched him chew the second too, face lighting up, smile emerging again on her soft lips, as she cleaned him from a crumb ended on his beard.

- Really? I should bake them for Santa so. To thanks him for all those gifts no one asked for I guess, what do you say? – she joked, tilting her head.

-I say he can have them, if I can have the chef – he left a kiss on her lips this time, mixing the flavor of Christmas cookies with her own.

He felt her soften without a single thought into his arms, flattening herself almost completely against his chest, clinging to his neck as best she could while avoiding dirtying him with icing and chocolate.

-You taste like cookies – he heard her soft laughing, between one kiss and another, making him groan.

- Yes?

- … uh-huh

He couldn't resist those whispers, even if they were playing, to see her hopelessly happy if they were together. Stealing kiss after kiss, he pulled her onto his body, forcing her legs to wrap around his hips as he placed her on the only empty corner of the kitchen counter. With her warm laughter in his ears, he slid his hands up her soft thighs, climbing higher, until he felt the full texture of that glorious ass, as he stopped kissing her to taste then her neck. By heart, he sucked that point just beyond her collarbone that caused her to shiver, immediately feeling her cling better, squeeze with her laughter which slowly became moans, forgetting about her hands dirty to hug him.

- I hadn’t finished though – she complained, her body seeming to melt like icing from his attentions and Roman slid his hands past her sweatshirt, touching that soft good smelling skin.

- I want my dessert – he demanded seriously and felt her scratching the back of his neck with red nails, drawing a dangerous growl from him that vibrated through the whole kitchen.

Without taking his lips away from her, savoring the inside of her mouth and the soft skin above her breasts, he stripped her of those extra clothes, her hands doing the same to his pants, leaving traces everywhere and making both of them as dirty as the rest. Slowly, Roman took his time to mark her, enjoy everything of that moment, ignoring his already awake boner demanding attention, to dedicate himself to something better, hidden between those infinite legs that refused to leave him. When his long fingers found her, Roman couldn't resist the temptation, dipping a finger into the heat of her perfectly wet pussy to explore the soft, welcoming walls where he wanted to sink until he completely lost himself. Y/N in front of him tightened his grip on his neck, gasping into his arms, gaze fascinated and full of lust as she watched him bring the hand up to lick clean his fingers.

- This one is just for me – he reminded her, feeling her cling to his wrist to place a kiss on the bottom lip, tasting herself too before sliding down with the back to give him all the room he demanded.

Satisfied, Roman helped her lift her thighs, making his way between them, to finally dip himself in that perfect sweet meal, nose sliding between her folds tracing the path before his fat tongue. He took a taste, slow, just with the tip, feeling Y/N's body tremble for attentions and stopped to suck high on that adorable button that made her tremble. Breaths soon became brazen moans and more volume increased, more insistent, hungry Roman became. It was so sweet down there, a bit like that icing with which she had covered cookies but not cloying, it was a flavor that he could no longer live without and that he always tried to milk away, until it dripped down onto his beard, making his mouth salivating. First her button, then that hot entrance and soft walls, puffy, full skin of the lips he loved to kiss as much as the ones up there, running his tongue flat between her, fucking that cave without mercy. Insistently he kept her pressed against his face, choking himself, maneuvering her for more, slow but commanding until Y/N began to delight him with her adorable cries, her back arched and hands trying to grab him for support.

Something next to them fell due to her jerky movements, one of the trays and Roman saw her turn her with a blank look, ending up stretching out his arm, putting the tray and bowl of icing into their place. Y/N smiled, thanking him with a glance and he placed a kiss with devotion on her pussy, his pussy, Roman’s eyes getting darker as he saw Y/N biting her lip as eager as he was at the sight of him now dirty with icing.

- Did you find something for your dessert? – he heard her ask with lust, legs pulling him closer and he grinned.

- I like it with cream on top – he reflected thoughtfully, letting some of the icing on his hand drip between her folds.

He saw her entrance tighten around nothing at the feeling, bewitching and nasty as only Y/N could be with him, only when they were together. Her, who always tried to leave nothing to chance, who controlled every little detail, perfect, impeccable, became something else with him in those moments, stooping to try anything without complaints. She was a dangerous gift, a challenge he had never found in anyone else and that would have brought him to his knees if only she had asked, a power game in which they both had the same hand but used it with complicity.

He ran his fingers between her folds, listening to her mewl, seeing Y/N hold her breath when one of his long fingers slipped some icing inside, mixing it with her juices and the saliva he had already left.

- Ahn… feels so cold mmh – she begged with those eyes that had bewitched him, pushing him to turn his hand, sink a little more to find that welcoming spot that made her cry in absolute bliss.

-Im gonna fill you up – he announced and Y/N squirmed on the counter, between spilled icing and broken cookies, without stopping being finger fucked, because she knew it wasn't with any of those ingredients that Roman wanted to do keep his promise.

Pumping into her opening, he reached down to taste her again, this time licking away the frosting he had spilled, tongue running slowly and hungrily over every inch of her soft, sensitive caramel skin. He sucked on her swollen button, the taste of her body mixing with vanilla, the sweetness of her honey hitting Roman’s mouth along with icing. A beautiful, soggy mess echoing inside his ears, a primal call that made him hungrier and hungrier as his wide mouth tried to devour her alive, kissing and licking her clean.

He loved the choking noise that came from her throat every time his lips sucked one or both of hers down there, the pop wet flesh, nose that ran through her pussy like a credit card ready to be emptied. It was the kind of pussy that had any man tied around a finger, one he would do anything for and it led to devotion, Roman was obsessed with her and looking back he really didn't know how to managed to live without, but it wasn't just that. It was all of her, it was Y/N. She had dangerously become his world even before sharing a house or Christmas together, and it was in unexpected moments like this one that reminded him of it, waking up in the depths of his stomach, inside his head, an impulse that didn't exist even in a ring, with adrenaline running into his veins, cheered by thousands of people. The need with which he had chased her for an entire year, in hotels, arenas and offices, around the country and even beyond the borders, day and night, that grip on lungs of a drowning man.

He kissed her legs, feeling her hands pulling a few locks, knees trembling as she felt him bury himself between those folds, widening that glistening opening with fingers, inserting his tongue to clean her like a mad man until he elicited a scream. Her walls tried to close, to squeeze him, as they would have done with his hard cock and Roman found himself moving his hips aimlessly, seeking relief and refusing to abandon his meal before having reduced her to tears.

He fucked her with his fat tongue, flat and strong, pounding deep into her softness, feeding on that true addicting sweetness, widening his mouth to take in as much as possible, dirtying his beard.

- Plea-aase! R-Ro, Ro! Ah! - he felt her tremble, body struggling on the marble counter, held in his arms in that unnatural pose which Y/N did not refuse to submit to anyway, just to keep her legs on his shoulders to give him everything he wanted.

He knew she was at her limit, but he refused to slow down, craving more, that impulse in his chest that was growing until he felt like was going to explode and pushed him to be savage. He ran his fingers over her button, squeezing it between his fingers to help her and as he licked her again, his tongue flat against the hot opening, Y/N exploded with a silent cry, eyes closed, breath broken. The taste of her was intoxicating, addictive and Roman stood there, as close as possible, accompanying her as she reached her peak, cleansing with dedication. With his eyes fixed on her face, he held her back until her muscles regained some strength, trailing kisses down her flat belly, up her legs, massaging Y/N with his fingers where she still throbbed and only when her shaking hands found him, along with those beautiful eyes, he stood up again.

- I could spend all my life between your legs, babygirl – he admitted menacingly, getting rid of his track that she had already undone and with her breathing still rapid, Y/N invited him, tightening her legs around his hips at the sight of his erection slapping her already swollen center.

- Do what you want, ain't complainin'ahn!-

Sinking until he lost himself, he pulled her to the edge of the counter, fitting into her and giving a long, deep stroke, savoring her warmth and that feeling of constriction, in which she stuck him every time, without giving her time to think again. Oh, he meant to. He really meant it and the thought of her indulging him went to his head enough to push him to speed up without restraint, the slimy sound of their bodies colliding now audible even among the Christmas songs. Head down, holding her open thighs, he watched her honey stain him a little more each time he thrust in, her caramel-colored mountain swelling as his flesh went deeper.

-Mmh… you're so hard – Y/N cried in a soft moan, one hand clinging to his forearm and the other to the counter edge now sticky from the icing and her pleasure.

- I can feel you squeeze around me babe, grab that dick, thats right, let daddy enjoy his pussy, y-yes – he spoke dirty, feeling and seeing her walls sucking him in, abs tense.

- Ooh shit Ro-

More her moans became louder more his hips accelerated, in Roman mind the full intention of wreck her just for himself, drilling in that spot that made her mouth open wide, taking the breath out of her lungs, making eyes close, her belly full. There was just her begging, that gorgeous luscious body of her tense and sweaty, his breath heavy, that fire running up to his mind clouded by the vision of Y/N suffering with pleasure his assault, the hammering of his hard cock. It was an asphyxiating pleasure, a hot and inexorable vice that pulsated around Roman meat, squeezing his flesh and inviting him to go deeper, until he slammed as far as possible to reach complete collapse.

- F-fu-ah! Ah! – he felt her tremble, writhe in spasms and pinned her down, fingers digging into her hips, anchoring her to that place.

- That's it, ah, beg sweetheart, yes, gimme your mess

- pl-leeah! Please!

Groaning, hyping her and himself, Roman pulled one of her legs up higher, slapping a hand into her thigh and Y/N screamed, her head sprawling from side to side, eyes closed and back arching for that new inclination. From there, he could see her moist pearl, the whitish excitement leaking out, dripping onto the marble and down, that wonderful ring that ignited the worst thoughts in him. He felt her walls tighten with more and more insistence, nails digging into his flesh and his belly on fire, while without any warning, already tormented by his attacks, Y/N once again fell apart with a strangled moan.

And so, Roman began to fuck her without mercy, growling, giving vent to every ounce of need in his body and mind, cock sliding deeper and deeper, his hot head pounding inside that sweet cave, taking advantage of her climax and streached walls. Losing all composure, losing himself in a sensation that only Y/N could give him, Roman felt shivers run down his sweaty neck and pumped until muscles burned from the physical effort, once again exceeding the limit, hitting the kitchen counter with his knees.

- Feels so good babygirl, mmmh, so good… - he moaned, while she was still panting and throbbing under him, holding on where she could, letting him go – I'm 'bout to come, lemme fill you up, I need it, I… need… it-ah!

Everything around him seemed to go silent for long minutes, only Y/N and her whispers were still there, her soft eyes that never lost sight of him, full of what he wished was love, that tired smile that widened into a perfect "o", while Roman pressed her against him, letting the fire that had burned him slide into her canal, making his nuts dry and cock throbbing. In an animalistic growl he froze inside her, emptying himself with mind suddenly white, feeling her hands pull him down, making his head rest against her breast. Silently, he gave two final, drunken thrusts to make sure there was nothing left with Y/N trying to push his hair back and leaving heated kisses on his temples. Clinging to her, he waited in that position to catch breath, music slowly starting to make sense again.

- I guess I'll have to start from the beginning... - Y/N complained with an amused breath after a while and Roman looked up, observing the mess they had created and then her, who was distractedly tasting some of the icing that had fallen on the counter.

- Need help? – he asked seriously, very seriously and Y/N stopped with a finger still on her lips, a smile growing like something else in him, once again.

A year earlier he had done everything possible to convince her to stay during holidays. Now that she was finally here, now that they were together and with no one and nothing chasing them, he was going to make the most of every second. Santa had his North Pole and later he would have his cookies, but on the Island of Relevancy was him who dictated times.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @gomussy @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade

[dipperscavern]

Ok, just read your blurb about being Jessica’s assistant and being nicknamed baby.

What if the origin of baby was that someone was giving baby shit and someone else (Harvey perhaps) says the classic line “no one puts baby in the corner” when coming to her defense. Then it just kind of spirals from there and no one gives her shit again.

Also feel free to ignore this, literally just my first thought when reading your post!

oh my god. when i tell you i SCREAMED this is so genius & yummy.. PHEW. i know exactly what ur referencing ily & thank u so much for the ask! 🫶🏻

“I’m just saying, the assistant to the Jessica Pearson.. and your desk looks like this?”

you roll your eyes, the hint of a playful expression on your face. while you knew he wasn’t being completely serious, you liked your desk — pink things, trinkets, & personal touches all. you found decorating your desk as a fun way of personal expression, and you were so damn good at your job, jessica didn’t care.

“Would you like to re-decorate for me?”

your reply is dripping sarcasm, a playful tone in your voice that masks how you really feel. you look up at the few bored associates hanging around your desk, and they snicker at your reply.

“Yes I will, thank you. It’s.. something. Could use a more professional look.”

that makes you frown. something? more professional? what started out as a joke seemed more like a personal attack the more it went on. tom, the associate who’s mouth was moving, never seemed to know when to stop. you’re about to say something when a miracle in the flesh steps in your line of sight — harvey specter.

it’s ironic, really. he radiates business when the very reason he came over to your desk was to shoo off the associates bothering you. he looks around to the people that have now stiffened up in his presence, and he gives them an almost confused look.

“And what the hell are you doing?”

tom swallows. “Just- messing around. Sir.”

“What?” harvey looks around. “What’s wrong, you.. don’t like her desk? Is that the nationwide issue we’re facing today?”

you look up at harvey, a faux expression of sympathy on your face. “He doesn’t like the color pink, sir.”

that makes harvey’s brow raise, for two reasons. one, his associates shouldn’t have the time to be complaining about any colors. & two, you’ve been on a first name basis with harvey for a year. he doesn’t mind people calling him sir, but he definitely does mind when it’s you, batting your lashes & giving him a look thats sure to distract him for the rest of the day.

“You shouldn’t have time to worry about the color pink. Time is money, money is time, and if you have time to complain then your workload must not be large enough to satiate your.. innate genius.”

harvey pulls out his cellphone while talking, as if he couldn’t be bothered to give them the time of day — which he really can’t. he’s not really typing anything, but they’ll never know that.

“Don’t be sad she’s not as miserable as the rest of you. Get back to work.”

mumbles of “yes sir” can be heard throughout the office as they move to gather their things & get up, obeying the order given to them with only slight disdain.

“Thanks, Harvey.”

he reaches for the two-pack of oreos on your desk, grabbing one & handing it back to you.

“Nobody puts baby in the corner.”

this makes your brows furrow as you smile, & he bites into his cookie as you reach for yours. he quickly notices the look on your face.

“What?”

“Dirty dancing?”

he gives you a look of his own. “Sir?”

you smile as he walks away, getting back to work of his own. & you fail to notice the associates ears tuned into your small conversation as you bite into your cookie. hey, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Thanks, Baby.”

“Hey, Baby, could you-“

“Where’s Baby?”

“I need this for Baby.”

you stand corrected. jessica pearson herself joins in after a mere day. “Baby, I need you to reschedule that meeting with Mr. Sawyer. Give him my sincerest apologies- I gotta run.”

“Yes ma’am.”

she quickly gathers her things & leaves, in a rush to complete her full schedule. once she’s gone, you put your head in your hands, sighing. your official nickname is baby.

and you like it.

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

2/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties

W/c: 3.8k

You’re late. You’re really late. Not even just an ‘oh I got stuck in traffic I’ll be there late”. You’re the “I hope my daughter doesn’t hate me and harbor those feelings the rest of her life late.” As you bob and weave through traffic in your BMW SUV you curse to yourself. You feel stupid. Very stupid. There’s no way you can ever make up for this but you can certainly try to.

As you pull onto the street of what was once your home you squint just a little to see how many people are still there. You can see the cars lining the street start to dissipate as you pull into the driveway. Natasha is on the porch talking to one of the people you recognize from Emma’s dance class. She spots you, rolling her eyes and angling herself, so you’re not in her vision. Parking the car, you look over to the passenger’s seat where Emma’s gift is wrapped in yellow paper (her favorite color) and a bright pink bow. You turn the car off with a sigh. You really did it this time. You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach over to grab the present and exit. You walk slowly up the pathway marveling at all of the decorations that Natasha has put up for Emma’s fifth birthday.

Five. Your baby girl is five and you’ve missed her birthday party. One Natasha had gracefully invited you to. Briefly, your mind flashes back to the mornings where you and Natasha would wake the little girl up with breakfast in bed. Mini pancakes, strawberries, her favorite juice. You would go the whole nine yards for her. Now you’ve done everything but that. You reach the edge of the steps with a small wave to Natasha’s guests.

“Kerry, Doug, nice to see you again.” You give them a tight smile hoping to appear calm even though don’t feel that way.

“I’ll call you,” Natasha says bidding them goodbye. She doesn’t speak until they’re down the path and in their car. She trails her eyes over to you still in your work clothes with an apologetic look on your face. “Unbelievable.” She scoffs turning to go inside the house. You follow after her with an apology at the tip of your tongue. She starts collecting the trash she sees around the living room.

“I’m sorry, I got sidetracked at work,” You begin.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” She shrugs. Pushing her hair behind her ear she glances at you. “I’m not the one turning five and I’m not your wife.” Something about the last part of that statement strikes you right in the heart. The divorce has been finalized for eight months now. Eight months and you’ve barely seen each other. Only during pickups and drop-offs. Even then you barely speak. Hearing her voice is...nice. Even if she is angry with you.

“I know but I’m really making an ass of myself,” You shake your head. “Where is she?”

“Backyard,” She answers.

“She must hate me,” You mutter more to yourself.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Natasha walks to the kitchen and again you follow. “She’s just really confused on why her Mommy said she would be here and wasn’t.” She gives another wave to one of the last guests and they trickle out of the house.

“Yeah,” You say following closely behind her. She stuffs the trash into the bin carefully.

As she stands to her full height you take a second to look at her. She’s gorgeous. Her hair flows behind her back longer than she’s ever let herself allow it to. Her eyes are just as expressive and beautiful. God, you’ve missed her.

You open your mouth to speak but you’re interrupted when a familiar figure steps into view. Richard Matthews. An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Natasha’s new partner. He accompanies the Avengers on missions every now and again. You’re not exactly sure why but he’s always paired up with Natasha on missions and it never really bothered you until now.

“Everything’s all set with the kiddos,” Richard says to her. He completely ignores you and you can’t really tell if that’s intentional. The way he steps into Natasha’s space makes you think they’re closer than she’s letting on. “Emma’s having a blast with the new American doll I got. Says she’s gonna sleep with it tonight.” He smiles down at Natasha. “Will you be okay here? Ryan helped me with a lot of the backyard so there’s not much else to clean.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Natasha nods glancing over at you. She can see how uncomfortable Richard makes you feel. “Thank you, Richard.” She raises her hand to rest lightly on his bicep. You narrow your eyes. Clearing your throat they both look towards you.

“Oh, y/n, I didn’t see you there.” Richard feigns innocence.

“I’m sure you didn’t, Dick.” You say with every ounce of disdain. You can see Natasha’s lips quirk in amusement but she quickly hides it.

“Well, I’m gonna go.” He says before giving her a kiss on the cheek. He lingers before walking past you towards the front door. You two don’t break eye contact until he’s gone.

“That guy is a real tool,” You roll your eyes.

“He’s nice and he’s a part of the team.” Natasha shrugs. She steps over to the sink to do the dishes giving you the idea that this entire conversation is over. You want to ask her if she’s seeing him. If he’s more than just her partner. You’re not entitled to any of those answers and Natasha won’t be afraid to tell you.

“I’m just gonna go,” You wave the gift in your hand heading towards the back door. Once you’re out there you finally exhale. From the porch, you can see the giant pink bounce castle that both of your children are currently playing in. You go down the steps content to watch them for a moment. It’s Ryan who spots you first. Before all of this, he would have scrambled out of the bounce house to meet you halfway. Instead, he just stands there.

“Mommy!” Emma breaks you from your trance flopping onto her bottom. She slides out of the bounce house to run into your arms. You catch her twirling around in your arms. “You came!”

“I did, baby girl.” You kiss both of her cheeks.

“You missed my party though,” She reminds you.

“I know, Mommy’s so sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Emma forgives you. She wraps her arms tightly around your neck again.

“I got you something,” You jiggle the box in your hand. She leans back to inspect it her eyes widening. “Let’s go ahead and open it.” You let her down to stand on her own two feet. She takes your hand dragging you over to the picnic table on the other side of the yard. She’s small so it takes her a minute to sit correctly but when she does she beams up at you. Her socked feet swing underneath the table as she waits for you to hand her the present. You place it in front of her and take your spot next to her. She doesn’t hesitate to rip into the paper tossing the bow somewhere in the grass behind her. You can hear the sound of someone sliding out of the bounce house and you look over to see Ryan stepping closer.

“Hey bud,” You greet.

“Hi,” He says softly. You raise an arm beckoning him over to come to give you a hug. He presses himself against you as you hold him close. “I missed you.” He mumbles into your neck. Through this entire divorce, your relationship with him has been strained. Everything has been strained.

“I missed you too.” You whisper back. You give him a soothing kiss on his head. He doesn’t let you go as you both watch Emma to see her reaction.

“Wow!” She says pulling the last pieces of paper from the gift. She turns the box over and over in her hands. “I got a watch!” It’s not some fancy watch. You’re not that out of touch with reality. It’s an Apple watch. The most she can do on the thing is take pictures, use the phone features, and use a calculator. She loves it all the same as she hugs the box to her. After hearing what Richard got her you were apprehensive about it being enough. Sitting here watching her cherish this gift you know you picked correctly. “Can I call you on it?” You nod. “Every night?” You nod again. “Cool!” She cheers.

There’s a squeak coming from the back door and you know Natasha has come to the back porch.

“Can I go show Mama?” She asks you.

“Go, show her.” She turns from the picnic table rushing over to Natasha to show off her cool new present. Natasha looks down at the box and then back to you with a raise of her brow. She doesn’t share in Emma’s excitement but she tells the girl how cool it is.

“How are you doing?” You turn your focus to Ryan. He shrugs. “You sure?” He nods silently.

“Ryan, come on, it’s almost bedtime,” Natasha says. “I want to check your backpack before the night is over.” She ushers Emma inside.

“Guess we better go and check those backpacks.” You say rising to your feet. Ryan clasps your hand in his and you both move to walk inside of the house. It’s there Natasha is setting up Emma’s watch. “Patience, Printsessa.” Natasha scolds lightly. She presses a few buttons on the screen.

“Can Mommy stay for bath time?” Emma asks innocently. Your eyes fly to Natasha’s. You haven’t done that in a while.

“Please?” Ryan joins in. Natasha’s resolve is broken as she gives a meek “yes.” The children cheer in unison.

Guess you’re staying for bedtime.

This takes almost two hours to get both children through their nightly routine. Emma is more reluctant to fall asleep as she doesn’t want to miss you leaving. You tuck her into bed with a kiss and a promise to see her again soon. She pulls the American girl doll under the covers with her. You wait for her to fall asleep before leaving her room. Ryan is next and he’s much easier. He climbs into bed all on his own with his back turned to you. He’s conflicted and you being here is not making it easy on him. You sit on the bed beside him. You press a kiss to the back of his head.

“I love you,” You say before reaching over to turn off his lamp. You exit his room leaving his door cracked. You amble down the hallway to the stairs. You find Natasha in the front room gathering all of Emma’s new presents that she would put into their proper place later.

“Thanks for letting me stay to tell them goodnight,” You say awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it,” She dismisses tossing the last of the toys into a pile. The house is pretty much clean now save for the leftovers she has to put away. She’s not kicking you out as you follow her down the same path into the kitchen.

“Natasha,” You begin. stopping yourself when you realize you don’t really have anything to say. “Thank you for inviting me. I know you didn’t have to do that. I feel like a jerk. Especially with how things have been going.”

“How have things been going?” Natasha busies herself with pushing the leftovers into whatever Tupperware they can fit into. She curses turning to look for a lid for this particular bowl. “Where is it?” She searches.

“Bottom right cabinet,” You inform her. She pauses before moving over to search the cabinet you gave her. She finds what she is looking for and turns back to the food.

“Things have been going good.” You continue your earlier conversation. “Work is work. My mom is doing well. She sends her love. I can’t complain.” You watch her stuff the fridge full.

“Well I’m glad things are going well for one of us,” She slams the door of the fridge a bit harder than intended. “Not all of us are able to abandon our motherly duties.”

“Natasha, I’m trying my best here.” You say immediately knowing what she means.

“That’s what pisses me off the most,” She says exasperatedly. “They’re so good with you just trying. They don’t care how many times you mess up. They don’t care if you don’t do something. They don’t care if you’re having a bad day and you’re doing everything to make them happy. They don’t care if you don’t show up for their goddamn birthdays but it’s me that get’s the brunt of the madness and the anger.” She slams her hands against the counter. Running her hand through her hair, she shakes her head. “Do you know Ryan got into a fight at school the other day? He’s been...angry these days. I’m considering seeing a therapist with them.” She nods to herself. “Emma’s been giving me hell too. I wouldn’t allow her to watch tv one night because I dislike them having so much free time. She threw a tantrum.” She swallows thickly. “She told me, she told me she hates me and that she wishes she could come live with you.” The unshed tears in her eyes break your heart into a thousand pieces. “So, yes trying your best doesn’t really fly with me.”

“Natasha, I’m,” There’s no amount of apologizing that could take that hurt from her. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll take them out for dinner and we can talk.”

Natasha sighs. She knows this isn’t something that can be fixed with a simple talk. She lets her tears fall freely. You hate that this is what you’ve done to your family. Stepping around the counter you reach out to her. It’s reminiscent of that night all those months ago when you left. All you want to do is make it better. Make her feel better. Your emotions are conflicting as you bring your fingers up to caress her cheek. She stands stock-still closing her eyes at your touch. You rub your thumbs across her cheeks clearing away the tear tracks.

“I’m sorry,” You say and she lets out a sob.

“You’re not sorry,” She shakes her head.

“No, Natasha, I’m sorry,” You say firmly. You’re hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. She opens her eyes searching your face for a lie. You get lost in the forest of her eyes. So trusting and loving even with all of the pain you’ve brought your family.

You don’t know who makes the move first. Your lips meet tentatively. There’s a hint of familiarity that comes from nine years of marriage. The kiss is soft and sweet. Her lips glide over yours in a slow, languid motion. It’s not lacking in passion. Quite the opposite actually. Her mouth is hot and wet and hungry for you as your tongues meet. Taking in her flavor, you moan. She tastes like leftover cake with a hint of toothpaste. You pull back slightly to suck her bottom lip into your mouth. You nip it gently and the moan it elicits from Natasha only spurs you on. Her arms come up to wrap around your neck pulling you closer as you push her gently towards the counter. Her back is pressed against it as you kiss her harder. You spend a few more moments wrapped up in each other. Your hands roam her body tracing over every curve.

The need for air becomes too great as you pull away to trail kisses down her neck. You lick at her pulse point before giving it a soft bite. She moans a bit louder tensing under you. You’re moving fast and hurried as you push her tank top over her breast. You move the cup of her bra to expose her nipple taking the rosy bud between your lips. You give it a hard suck and she gasps loudly. Her hands push your head closer to her as you swipe your tongue across her nipple. Your right-hand slides down to trace the front of her jeans.

“Please,” She says in her lust-filled haze. You flick the button of her pants open skirting your fingers under the waistband of her underwear. She’s wet. So wet. You slide your fingers through her folds collecting her wetness. On one particular slide, you bump her clit causing her hips to jump. You trace her opening and she’s panting now. When your fingers slip inside of her she lets out a yelp. You push until you’re at the second knuckle. You can hear the sound of her arousal and it is music to your ears. Natasha has always been loud during sex and this is no exception. You abandon her breasts to return your lips to hers.

“Shh, baby, you don’t want to wake them,” You whisper into her ear. She nods shakily as she tries to fuck herself on your fingers. You thrust harder sending her reeling as she reaches blindly behind her for the counter. “Good girl,” She flutters around your fingers, and god damn you want to stay like this forever.

“Harder,” Her breath is airy and hurried. She’s close. You listen thrusting into her harder, faster, deeper. Her brows are knit together as she chases her orgasm. You can feel the way she tightens around your fingers.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this does he?” You breathe close to her ear. “Doesn’t take care of you like I do,” The moment is over faster than you know it. Suddenly Natasha is pulling away and pushing you away from her. It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dumped on you as she takes a huge step away. She’s buttoning her jeans and wiping at her mouth as you try to catch your breath. “What? What happened?”

“You can’t be serious?” She says. “You think I’m fucking him?”

“Natasha,” You drop your hands to your sides. She pushes her shirt down over her breast and you immediately miss your closeness.

“No, no, you cannot be serious.” Natasha turns to catch her breath. “You don’t have the right,”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to assume. He was close to you, kissed you.”

“On the cheek,” She whips her head to look at you. “He comes over sometimes to help with the kids. They like him. That’s not any of your business if I was fucking him or not by the way. You lost that when you served me with the divorce papers.”

A wave of anger washes over you. Swiping your hand across the counter you cause all of the glasses she dried earlier to crash to the ground.

“Fuck,” You yell. The glass resting at your feet satisfies you. It’s a representation of how you’re feeling right now. Natasha jumps back avoiding the glass from touching her. She looks down at the mess in surprise before looking back at you. You both wait in anticipation for one of the kids to come down. They don’t.

You rush out of the back door to sit on the steps. You bend so your head is between your knees. The blood rushes there and you cough hoping to catch your breath. The backdoor creaks. A comforting hand is placed upon your back as Natasha comes to sit next to you.

“Breathe, y/n.” She hums. You’re having a panic attack. She sits with you so patiently as your breathing becomes normal again.

“I’m not good for them,” You say. “I’m just like him.” You whisper brokenly.

“No, y/n, you’re not.” Natasha lifts your chin to look at her. “You’re not.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said,” Natasha interrupts. “You’re nothing like him. I only wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me.” The admission sits between the two of you.

“Fuck,”

She returns her hand to her lap.

“I can’t…” You struggle. “It wasn’t making sense. Any of it. It doesn’t make sense. One minute we were happy and the next we weren’t. We became too much. I couldn’t make you happy anymore. Emma told me during her bath that she hears you crying at night when you think she’s asleep. I never meant to do any of this. I never meant it, Tasha.” You cry. You mean it. You ran. You did what you do best and ran.

“I know,” She says solemnly. “You never asked me if I was happy.” You lift your head to look at her questioningly. “You said you couldn’t make me happy anymore but you never asked me. You never ask you just assume. I’ve always been happy with you. Back during our days in the tower, when we got married, when we were pregnant with Ryan.” She names. “Even when we weren’t having sex and not communicating and fighting all of the time. I never once thought that we would end.” You’re surprised by that. All this time you thought you were doing the right thing for everyone and now you don’t know if it was the right thing at all. “Couples have rough patches. Tony and Pepper did. Thor and Jane. Clint and Laura. They got through it. I thought we could too. When you handed me those papers -- my entire world stopped, y/n. I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought maybe you found someone else. I thought so many things. But that I didn’t see coming.”

“I’m sorry,” It’s your turn to cry now. “I didn’t want this.” You shake your head. “I fucked up.” You say.

“Is this because you think I’m sleeping with someone else?”

“Partly,” You admit. “I have had some time to think and I just… I thought I was doing what’s best for us. You’re right I didn’t ask you. I assumed. I pulled away. I’m so sorry, Natasha. I never stopped loving you or wanting you. Even though all of that.” Natasha’s breath hitches through your admission.

“Then why?” She asks. “Why did you leave me?”

You don’t have a single answer. “I thought you were better off without me.”

“How could you ever think that?” She asks. You don’t have an answer for her.

“I have to leave in the morning,” You say. The moment is broken and though Natasha thought you were getting somewhere it’s clear you haven’t. She moves to stand and you catch her wrist. “Come with me. It’s a week in Florida. Come with me. You and the kids.”

“Y/n, we can’t just leave in the morning.” She says. “The kids have school and I have work.” You deflate. Of course not. You shouldn’t have asked. “But we could meet you there Friday night? Gives us time to pack and get everything in order with their teachers.” She’s giving you a chance. You stand to look at her. “The moment we come back we’re in therapy. All of us.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” You promise.

“Don’t break my heart again,” She begs quietly. “I don’t think I’ll survive this time.”

“I won’t.” You pull her into your arms. Standing here with her you wonder how you ever thought you could be without her.

---> next part

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

Red King Design Notes

I got a single request to explain Red King's design, so I'm going feral! This will have notes based on AU lore (events), 'lore' (character relationships), and things I noticed in the show! (This one is for you, @daikon-dimes <3)

Let's start from the top and move down!

‎Red King's horns!

Firstly, her "Proud Horns"! The color is a deep-red version of DBK's old horn color, and the shape is based on Princess Iron Fan's bull-horn hairstyle!

And then her "Transportation Horns". These are a slightly darker color than the Proud Horns and their shape is based on PIF's hair and also vaguely based on DBK's horns.

That actually brings us to...

Bangs like Mama and Red King's tiara!

Okay, horn lore:

Red King had eaten a monk and then took a killer fucking nap—like she CONKED OUT—and she woke up with big ol bull horns (magical power expression* has to go somewhere, and she's not really using it or feeling anything right then) and she was like "oh, dude, what the fuck", and then freaks out because she can't balance herself anymore

After being freaked out for a while, she demanded that the nearest bull clone get her a mirror.

She looks at herself in the mirror (she's learned how to balance at this point, good for her), she touches her horns, and she goes,

"Heh. Like Mother's hair."

And, even though she and her mother are in the middle of essentially a Cold War, she finds her mother's old tiara and puts her hair around her horns like her mom's… decorative hairstyle? whatever we'd call that. like the way her mom serves massive cunt 25/8—because she loves her mom more than anything else. (No matter how much of a raging ******* PIF is being. God, why is she like that sometimes???)

(The Eternal Fire design has sidebangs that are reminiscent of PIF's but more silky and flowy.)

Bull Fam Huadian and Bindi

The Eternal Slumber design has a huadian (a form of traditional Chinese ornamental forehead makeup, which is located between the eyebrows and sometimes on the cheeks, the temples, and the dimples) shaped like the Demon Bull family crest instead of the traditional flower petals. This is because of the idea that Red Son's "red dot" is a huadian, which I've seen floating around quite a bit, but I'm 99% sure it's a bindi.

It's in the right spot for a bindi and the wrong spot for a huadian, it looks like a bindi and doesn't look like a huadian—it's a bindi. I don't know if this is still going on (people thinking it's a huadian/saying it's a huadian/drawing it as a huadian), but it's a bindi. It's a bindi guys.

(Because of Red Son's tendency for overly expressive downturned eyebrows and the inconsistency of hand-drawn animation, it's hard to tell, but the "red dot" is seemingly intended to be slightly above and between his eyebrows, not high above on his forehead. You can tell on screenshots where it's on his forehead that it's in the wrong spot, it's actually really fun.)

Also, the people on the wiki call it a "forehead dot" and I'm so...

Anyway, in her Eternal Fire design, Red King's bindi returns! This is because her time with MK has "reignited her inferno", and she is returning to herself! With her bindi! Welcome back, pookie bear!!!

and on the note of her "reigniting her inferno", her Eternal Fire design has the same eyebrow makeup as the Red Son minifig!

Her Samadhi Ring

In the Red King AU, Red Son is allowed to keep his/her ring of Samadhi for a number of reasons. Importantly, DBK and PIF let Red Son their ring because it is their power—Red Son was born with the Samadhi Fire, and it's an expression of their power. They are a family obsessed with power for a good while, so in the Red King AU, DBK and PIF felt it cruel to strip their only child of their power and of the remainder of it. The thought also was that, as the creator of the fire, Red Son would have the most incentive to keep the ring safe. They'd certainly never lose it, like some people.

(Fun fact, this means that DBK's nose ring is the other way around like it was in his younger years. That's just a really silly detail, but like... they match <3)

Red King's Hair Highlights (and Their Relation to Red Son’s Magic Expression and the Samadhi Fire)

(By the way, the Eternal Slumber design has more chaotic shines because her hair isn't brushed, and the Eternal Fire design has more uniform/put-together shines because her hair is being taken care of.)

Red King has shiny hair, and that's not just to look cool. To explain why, I had to make a giant post about the LEGO Monkie Kid Magic System. I go in-depth about Red Son at the end of that post, but I'll give a TLDR here:

Red Son has a wholly unique form of expressing magic among demons, gods, dragons, descendants, reincarnations, and everything in-between (the in-between being Red Son himself, MK, Wukong, and Macaque [Red Son is half-god, half-demon; MK was intended to be a mystic monkey but got his genetics messed with; Wukong and Macaque are mystic monkeys outside of any of the 10 species, they just need to be noted here [Their magic is completely conventional, they're just crazy strong]). His body, and specifically his hair, is directly connected to his magic in a way that's different from other characters for reasons we can only speculate.

Because Red King is stronger than Red Son (and has a link to the Samadhi Fire), she has many large hair highlights! Generally, they're condensed into one or two large shapes, but smaller highlights around a large shape are also acceptable. :]

Outfits

Eternal Slumber wears zhong yi (middle clothes), a longer version of Red Son's robe from season 3, and Red Son's sandals from season 3. (I call those house shoes but the model sheet says sandals.)

Zhong yi were worn under normal clothing in Hanfu, and often worn to bed. Some posts about zhong yi: 1, 2, 3. Because Red King is... well... sleeping often but in a regal way, she wears zhong yi instead of modern sleepwear. Her robe is also longer to evoke the fact that it is a robe and she is a king.

Eternal Fire wears a sleeveless version of Red Son's coat with a gold trim. This gold trim is actually because of something on Red Son's page on the Monkie Kid Wiki! Okay, so, I'm so autistic that part of my LMK Special Interest (it's been 4 years, so this is officially a special interest) actually extends to the Wiki... and on Red Son's Wiki page, there is something so fun!!

On Red Son's Minifigure–show comparison, the screenshot used to compare contains a coloring error! Red Son's collar is actually his skin tone! And I LOVE THAT. NOBODY TELL THEM. IF YOU ARE A WIKI EDITOR AND YOU'RE READING THIS, DON'T FIX IT!!!

I love coloring errors and I love mistakes. Not only is there the original coloring error (the mark of a human being; someone worked on this scene and they made a mistake and now we can see it and see them! It's as if their memory is saying hello, and that's why I love coloring errors), but someone else missed it, and now it has been used to represent this character's design as a whole (a SECOND human being!! Hello!! You've been here, and you didn't catch something, and now I'll always remember you were here!).

And that's why I don't want it to be fixed. I know it should be fixed, and I know the Wiki is a source of knowledge, but I also just... love people so much... and I decided to remember the coloring error by giving Red King's coat a gold trim. <3 (I was going to keep it to the collar like the coloring error, but it didn't look good.)

Other notes:

She's wearing armbands like she did when she was a baby because the Eternal Fire design is her "returning to herself."

The ballroom gloves are just sexy like that. Make MK go Looney Tunes. (And the wristbands are for the same purpose.)

S H A N T S

Uhhh that's it! Thank you!! <3 <3 <3 <3!!

[simpforboys]

meeting the master

neteyam sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: when neteyam gets invited to one of your famous parties, he’s not too sure why. he knows of you, but doesn’t know you. you change that.

warnings: fluff, neteyam checking you out, you checking him out

aged up characters ofc, not proof read

this is high key based off the great gatsby fyi🤞

“neteyam! you have to come to y/n’s party tonight!” mukata exclaimed.

he was one of the boys neteyam and his brother quickly befriended in awa’atlu.

neteyam’s ears twitched at your name.

everyone always raved about your parties, how charming and beautiful you were. but neteyam had never seen you.

the more and more he heard about you, the more it intrigued him. how can someone be so great to a whole clan?

that night, deep into the ocean on an island, neteyam disconnected his queue to the ilu. his feet hit the cold sand as he pushed his braids out of his face.

loud cultural music consumed his upturned ears as they twitched from the noise. there were easily over three hundred clan members on the island.

neteyam suddenly felt very insecure. he was the only omatikaya- standing alone- in the middle of a crowded party.

“neteyam!” mukata ushered the man over. neteyam silently thanked eywa for not making him stand alone any longer.

“isn’t this great? one of y/n’s best!” mukata commented, his almond eyes blinking quickly.

“very… lavish.”

throughout the night, neteyam sipped on a specialty drink that was made specifically for that night.

he began to wonder where you actually were. really, he just didn’t know what you looked like.

some metkayina girls approached neteyam, batting their eyelashes and flirting with him.

“have you met y/n yet?” leyra asked.

“i have not.”

“she is like royalty. if tsireya wasn’t the chief’s daughter, everyone would believe y/n is.”

“i’ve heard that she has eaten people.” eyrina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

neteyam’s brow bone raised as his ears twitched.

“don’t be ridiculous-“ leyra gently slapped her friend.

“i believe my friend is calling me,” neteyam dismissed himself. he needed fresh air- the party atmosphere was extremely overwhelming.

he pushed through some brush and found a woman. long curly hair cascaded down her back in a V shape, a fancy loincloth that had shells and pearls decorated on the waist. it hung low on her hips and jewelry filled her finned-arms.

“hello?” he asked softly.

you turned around to hear the voice that startled you. a tall man with broad shoulders and- it was one of the sullys.

the sully family had arrived in awa’atlu a few weeks prior. you blinked your eyes at him, your second eyelid showing as it took a second to disappear.

“hi.”

“getting some air?” he questioned you, joining you to stand by the ocean.

“yes, same with you?” you asked.

“yes ma’am, i needed a break from the crowd.”

you were beyond gorgeous. a flower was tucked behind your ear, purposely balanced on the flesh. you had big, doe eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

it quickly made neteyam flustered.

his freckles were illuminated under the moon as you stared at him, the white dots seeming placed from eywa in a particular manner.

he was a very handsome man, with almost eight inches of height between your heads.

“i understand. who invited you?” you asked him, your voice gentle as you gazed down at his veiny hands.

“mukata, he said this would be y/n’s biggest party yet. although, i still haven’t met her. and really, i’ve heard so much about her yet i’m surprised she didn’t have a grand entrance to the party introducing herself.”

neteyam felt himself ramble, his eyes finally going to meet your face. you had a blank expression, one he couldn’t read.

“i guess i haven’t been a good host then,” you shrugged.

“what?” neteyam asked, his heart dropping.

you laughed at the man.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you…”

“neteyam.”

“nice to meet you, neteyam.”

“ngaytxoa (my apologies), y/n, i didn’t know-“

“it’s okay, neteyam.”

you reassurance only made him feel a little better, however the overwhelming guilt was larger.

“no really, i-“

“neteyam, it is fine.” you placed your hand on his bicep, the muscle flexing under your touch. neteyam suddenly realized he was extremely touched starved and craved more of it.

a crimson pink made its way onto his cheeks as he looked out onto the ocean.

“do you want to know a secret?” you whispered, lifting yourself on the tips of your toes to reach his ear.

he softly purred, making your heart stammer.

“i do not really care for parties.”

neteyam turned to look at you, a confused look on his face.

“then why do you throw them?”

you shrugged at the man.

“if i don’t, then this island will remain boring forever.”

neteyam’s ears faltered as you turned to look out at the sea.

“i love the ocean and my home, but sometimes i need change.”

“like a forest?”

you looked back at neteyam to see him giving you a small smile. you grinned back.

“perhaps a forest.”

you and neteyam spent all night talking about your homes, the reason him and his family came to awa’atlu, and many other things.

the sunrise was quickly coming as you rubbed your eyes.

neteyam was laying on the sand next to you as you hugged your knees to your chest, continuing to babble on and on about your lives.

and while you two talked for hours, there was never an awkward moment. everything just felt right.

“i guess we should head back to the main land.” you suggested, seeing the fisherman off in the distance.

neteyam agreed, standing up. he offered you his hand, an electric shock going through both of you as your finned hand connected with his.

he was much stronger than you, his back filled with muscles. and sand.

“neteyam, you have sand on your back.”

without waiting for him to answer, you stepped behind him and ran your hands over his deep blue skin. the stripped patterns looked beautiful as you were mesmerized by his back.

neteyam accidentally let out a loud purr as you grazed against skin, making both of you blush.

“feel nice?” you teased, finally removing your hands from his skin (much to neteyam’s dismay).

the sunrise was dotting on your teal skin, illuminating your features as you stared up at neteyam.

in the beginning of his stay, he had yet to realize why you were so important, why everyone was obsessed with you.

but when he sat and talked with you, he soon found himself realizing just exactly why everyone adored you.

you were thoughtful, intelligent, cared for your people, funny, witty, and many other things he could not put into words.

and he began to think to himself if he could imagine being with anyone else, despite just having met you.

but when eywa calls, neteyam answers. and right now, he can hear a ringing in his ears.

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Headcanon: Rei

When I think of Rei’s childhood, I think of Yuki from Wolf Children.

Just not at all being the lady her parents probably wanted her to be and living her best life collecting bugs, feathers, and small animal bones.

And just like Toga, those interests were suppressed because they ‘weren’t appropriate for little girls,’ and she was made to conform.

I mean, look at her expression and tell me she wasn’t told to sit still and be quiet too many times when she was a child.

I think she was a weird kid.

And that's why I play with the snowboarding theme when I do fanworks involving Rei, as well as the idea that Touya’s inability to sit still when he's agitated/excited comes from Rei. It's also why I have the headcanon there was never a point where Rei and Endeavor loved each other. They already have two extremely different personalities in canon, and the high-energy headcanon just highlights a further personality difference.

I’ve already gone into it in more detail with an Endeavor analysis that I made, but here’s an excerpt that illustrates my point:

...what I think shows here is they weren’t really talking all that much. Specifically, he is not ‘talking down to her.’  He is not treating her with any particular disrespect or putting her down as inferior.   He doesn’t have the arrogance he later exhibits. This also isn’t him being aloof and ignoring her either.  Look at his face, specifically his eyes.  That is the same blank, deer in the headlights, “I have one brain cell dinging around in my head that is struggling to find a way to interact with people,” stare he shares with Shouto.

He has no idea what to say to her. 

So finally, Rei turns off to the side to admire the garden, and he asks, “Do you like the flowers?”  It’s a small thing, but it does show that in some capacity, he did show some interest in Rei and making her happy.  He’s just stupidly awkward about it at this point. (Even if his ultimate goal was…well, we’ll get into that.)

...

The long and short of it is if you remove the violence/temper aspect of Endeavor's character, you basically have Shouto: An awkward dork who doesn’t entirely know how to interact with people and he probably doesn’t understand sarcasm or euphemisms either. The main reason we can’t see that side of Endeavor’s character very well is because he’s weaponized intimidation/violence to cover it up. (Dammit, dude, this it not how you patch a character flaw.) So I don’t think Shouto’s isolation and childhood training caused his social ineptitude so much as exacerbated a character trait that was already there. He got it from Dad.

So referring to the earlier pre-kids part of Rei and Endeavor's relationship before the violence actually started, imagine the awkward personality-type paired with a partner who is, by all accounts, weird and has too much energy to be contained. Arranged marriage aside, I like the idea that Rei reverted back to her odd personality after she left her parents’ house. I like to think she danced in the kitchen when there was no one home, hoarded feathers and skulls and other odd keepsakes, and looked for places where she could snowboard. She was a housewife by herself for long periods of time, so who was going to stop her?

There is a short story I absolutely love called Ink, Water, Milk by Catherynne M. Valente. The plot's not relevant to this post, but there is a scene where a bored housewife buys a bunch of those cube-shaped watermelons and just stacks them in her fridge to admire them.

And for some reason, I can picture Rei doing this.

Like Endeavor just comes home to find her sitting cross-legged in front of the open fridge and smiling happily at the nine cubed watermelons stacked neatly inside. (Keep in mind, these things average $100-$200 a piece and are inedible/decorative.) No explanation for why she's done this, she just has a big, ecstatic smile on her face and pointing into the fridge. You know, Touya energy when he's a kid and excited about something. And Endeavor, in true Shouto fashion, is baffled by what she’s done, has no idea why she’s done it, and wondering if there’s a joke he’s not understanding.

I like to mirror this behavior in Touya and Shouto when I can in writing for Ambush Simulation. Underneath the trauma, they are at their core the brother with their mother’s high energy and the brother who is socially awkward and doesn’t quite know how to deal with the unhinged behavior but doing his best.

...

Edit because I just found this gif.

Young Rei:

[donutz]

— *🎩Mach x jolly! reader

ヾ@(o･ｪ･o)@ “Stay jolly love!”

“Jolly?” Mach then smiles at you, letting you see the small dimples on her face(my headcanon); You smile widely as you look at her— somewhat jolly face.

“Ya! Great job!”

-----------------------

THOUGH you don’t mind Mach not being a smiley person, the process of making her smile is very exciting.

Her little dimples showing up on her pasty face makes you smile, as if you were proud of her.

Before you two got together, she wouldn’t smile as often. Or— You didn’t see her smile.

You were also friends with Pilby! Their sad frown didn’t always ruin your day, in fact it didn’t at all! But seeing them smile would really boost your endorphins! As the jolly person you are.

Mach would notice the times you being the reason Pilby has smiled, which is something only she has done.

You had a great relationship with Pilby too, you’ve never purposefully made them cry, just only wanted them to smile once in a while.

“Mach! Look, look! Pilby's smiling!” You pointed out. Mach quickly looked over, apparently— Wanting to see that rare smile.

Sure, it was wobbly, but it’s still a smile. Baby steps!!

You were grinning so wide, as Pilby saw your smile it made them smile even more; letting out a laugh or two.

You quickly looked at them and back at Mach, giggling from being so happy.

Mach smiled at the both of you, as you saw this, you couldn’t get any happier.

With both of their consent, you pulled them into a group hug, just expressing your happiness for the both of them.

Your positive behavior really did something to her.. Well her behavior I guess.

Just at the right time, she started to feel things for you.

She understood the times that you tried your best to make her smile, and she did. Purposefully, maybe just to see you smile, or to just drop that frown she has on 24 hours a day.

There were many times where she just sat down and started to think about how she herself makes an effort to make you smile.

.

.

.

“Mach!”

She abruptly looked up at the sound of your voice. Her eyes widened from shock. Maybe she was too focused thinking about you.

“Do ya wanna go to the mall!! I wanna get some stickers ‘n stuff :D!!”

Again, it’s that damned smile on your face.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

“Hooray!! C’mon c’mon! I wanna get ya something!!” You reached out for her hand, just too excited to fully contain your cheerfulness.

Mach surprisingly didn’t hesitate as she took your hand to help her stand. Though she didn’t need a cane.

You smiled up(or not) at her, happy she’s comfortable with you.

As you said, you did get many stickers. Mach also got some things too, but most of them were for you.

The thing that you got for her was a snoopy mug!! She finds the character cute(my headcanon) and you thought it’d be a perfect gift! Plus it was 12 bucks!!

You two were shopping around and went into yet another store. You ran off somewhere in the store, like an interested little kid, while Mach was watching you of course.

You slowed down as you saw a section, a card section. You were eyeing all of them, wearing a small smile on your face, until you saw love cards.

Your smile went down as you focused more on those cards.

Maybe you should get one. One for her.

You looked back, wanting to see where Mach was.

Turns out she was right behind you, also looking at the cards. You jumped with a small noise coming out of your mouth.

You looked back at the cards, sighing out as you told Mach how much she scared you.

“Oh. Sorry… Which cards are you looking at?”

Your lips puckered as she asked you that question.

“The uhm. The love cards..” Your voice went quieter while saying the last sentence.

Mach noticed your nervous behavior and looked at you. You didn’t look back at her, just staring at the cards with your shoulders tense.

“Love cards? How come?”

‘Shoot! Think of an excuse!!’

“I uh— Y’know Valentine’s Day ‘n stuff!! I just want to.. Decorate and stuff!!”

“You can decorate with love cards? How?”

“Well, you can like.. Glue them on the wall.. ‘N stuff…”

Mach lowered herself more towards you, turning her head to you in order to initiate eye contact.

Seeing that she was so close to you, you jumped again as you made eye contact with her.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“... N-No…”

.

.

.

“M..” You lightly whimpered, too nervous to say anything.

Mach finally got out of her trance, fully standing up as she somewhat noticed the stares you two received.

“Have you found everything you wanted?”

“OH! Uh– No actually! I did want some chips!” You lightened up, as if that nervous demeanor you wore on your face never was there.

You rushed over to the chips section, while Mach was looking at you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Throughout the week Mach has gotten more.. Bold?

Getting close to you and sometimes she herself even comes into contact with you. Not like pushing, I mean holding hands, that’s all really. She doesn’t want to come off as too strong.

.

.

.

Valentine’s Day.

What should I get for her|them?

A card?

No, it has to be something like— Really cool!!

A pet maybe?

Hm. Probably not.

Maybe a confession! Yeah what a great gift!!

.

.

.

Wait what did I say?

Yes, you two did end up confessing to each other, but that wasn’t the only gifts you both received.

Movie date night! Candy and chips!

Mach wasn’t much of a candy person, but not all of them are sweet.

And y’know, she could maybe have a sweet tooth. For how sweet you are♡

A/N|| Mach motivates me to write little by little

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 24

ok so i’ve not been paying too much attention to the specific skulls appearing in each chapter header BUT i recently rearranged my bookshelf and so noticed that this chapter skull is the same one on the GtN book spine 👀👀

ok i don’t think bandages alone are gonna do much good for being shish kebabed with a rapier

i can’t blame Camilla here, your closest loved one being in the body of Naberius Tern is a nightmare scenario quite frankly

i feel like Nona comparing Corona to Noodle is the highest compliment Nona could have bestowed upon her

Ianthe clearly took ‘Necromantic Interior Decorating 101’ from Harrow sometime last book, covering the hallway with an inventive ‘blood filigree’. how charming 

hah I would kill for Ianthe to be around to hear Pyrrha say that her work was a shit version of Mercymorn’s

i'm Very intrigued by Pyrrha’s comment that she apparently tried to trick Wake into loving her somehow, i do wonder if we’ll ever get a more in-depth look at how exactly their whole fling started

oh poor Nona, she’s really beating herself up just for wanting the only body that she has to actually belong to her

GIDEON NAV THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS BACK! or at least her corpse is but i’m taking what i can get here okay

Nona’s mild disgust for redheads and being so critical of Gideon’s appearance is so very funny, it reminds me of how Gid described Harrow for a good chunk of GtN

'her face had that half-past-a-dream expression’ i’m probably reading wayy too into this, but amajor theme throughout this book has been dreams - the John chapters being dreams, Nona’s dreams of Gideon, so i’m curious if there’s anything significant about this description in regards to where Gid’s soul is

this has become very Sleeping Beauty suddenly with the unconscious kiss. or more accurately given Gid’s actually dead, Snow White. with the glass coffin containing the Sleeper in Harrow’s mindscape, that’s an interesting parallel between Gideon and Wake

umm i’m sorry what the fuck do you mean her eyes opened. and now she’s totally dead again?? is Nona’s hallucinating or what?? these books solidly going into mindfuck territory once again

an awful chunk of this book is made up of characters with very strange feelings about the corpse of Gideon Nav huh

MILITARY WING OF DISCO 🕺🪩🕺🪩

'imagine the hopes and fears of the whole universe contained in one dead little red star’ close enough, welcome back Ortus Ninegad’s unfairly hated poetry

oh jeez Gideon’s wounds are intense. i thought she just got impaled once right down the middle but nope she also has a neck wound as well. Nasty

christ please leave Bab’s and Gideon’s dead bodies alone. they keep getting possessed and tossed in rivers left and right

GIDEON NAV THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS BACK!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ somehow idk what’s going on i’m not questioning it at all, i’m just happy about it

evil cougar is a very apt description of Cytherea. also from what i recall this the first time Pal and Gideon have actually interacted since he literally blew himself up over a year ago, which is wild

[glitteredrry]

that’s my apron

summary: Harry comes to meet Y/N’s family for the first time during Christmas. 

warning: anxious harry, supportive y/n, big family, and fluff! this was lightly edited.

wc: 3.1k

“Harry looked like a lost puppy. Poor boy.” 

Her sister Ava said from Y/N’s bed reporting back to her what she had observed. She had been outside when she was watching Harry try to interact with the men of her family. In Ava’s opinion, he was doing okay just looking a bit uncomfortable without Y/N by his side. 

Harry was staying and meeting her family for the first time, and one would say it was going well…enough. Easter this year was reserved for Harry’s family, and Christmas was his time to meet her family.

Last night when the both of them had shown up at her grandparent's home, they weren't expecting them to separate them (since they weren’t married) to different sides of the house. When Harry woke up in the morning expecting to find her downstairs at breakfast, Y/N had already gotten dragged out of the house by her Aunt to go help her at the market. 

Then when Y/N arrived back home, her own Grandpa had taken Harry away to go help him with the mundane tasks that he needed to be done. She was fresh out of the shower when her sister slipped inside the room to report back to her. She was a teenager and timid to go try to stir up a conversation with Harry. So, instead, she would just try to get to learn about him through her older sister. 

“I’m going to go straight to him after I change. Where was he?” Y/N asked her as she looked at her on the bed. Before Ava could answer she was searching the room in her towel. 

“He was in the backyard. They all were near the grill talking about who knows what. Harry wasn’t really engaged in the conversation. He looked hesitant to join. ” 

“Harry, he’s an ambivert. Does that make sense, Ava?” Y/N said to her as went back into the bathroom to clip her bra, and put on some underwear.

“No, it doesn’t.” Y/N hears her echo from the bed.

As she walked out of the bathroom you stopped to talk to her. “What it means is that Harry is a shy person. He can be very to himself when he wants to be, that same person can be the life of the part if he wants to be. He is just not feeling as if he can be himself right now because he is being perceived by people he doesn’t know. Does that make sense?” She continued on her way to put on a dress. It was not completely chilly outside today. 

Ava liked hearing her talk about Harry. She had never seen her sister have a serious boyfriend, so, once Y/N told her about Harry, she could hear the way she loved him by how she talked about him. She could even see right now in Y/N’s urgency to get dressed and go see him how much she do. “It does. Well, I’ll get out of your hair. See you downstairs.” Y/N smiled at her as she slipped out of the room closing the door. 

It was only the first day and she had to remind herself of that. Y/N spritzed herself with Harry’s favorite scent on her, slipped into some shoes, and were out of the room heading to him. Tonight was a full house because it was game night. It was a tradition for her family and something that they (Y/N included) took seriously. 

As she went down the stairs, she you could hear the laughter of the kids watching a movie, the women resting in the den with wine glasses, and the deep voices of the men coming from the backyard. The house was decorated so festively that it filled her spirit with pure joy. Once Y/N walked through the doors to the grassy area she spotted Harry across the backyard…but he wasn’t alone. 

She expected it to be someone older talking to him, instead, it was her cousin. Who was only about six. Y/N couldn’t hear their conversation but it seems that Harry just got asked a question by him. He was dramatic with his expressions, holding his An answer was said but she couldn’t quite hear that, Harry turned his head to whisper something to him. That’s when he spotted you walking over, you swore that his smile got a little brighter. He brought his hand up gently waving it at her. Y/N kept her distance not wanting to abruptly end their conversation. As she got closer to them, Eliza noticed her and jumped up. 

“Is Harry talking your ear off?” She asked the small boy as he hugged her.

“No! Harry likes dinosaurs like me! Harry is nice.” She looked over at Harry who smiled at the compliment.

“I’m glad you like him, I like him too.”

“Is it okay if I steal him for a moment? Everyone is watching the Grinch.”

“That movie sucks.”

“Go ahead, Eliza,” She pressed a kiss to the side of his head as she watched him run across the yard to the house. Y/N turned to face Harry as he held his hand out. She obliged missing his touch. No one was around them to say anything, so she sat in his lap wrapping her arms around his neck, and bringing him into a hug.

Harry tucked his head into her neck, wrapping his hands around her waist. He let out a delighted hum at her scent. His whole body relaxed in her hold. He tried to act as if he wasn’t the clingy one of the two, but deep down he knew he wore that title on his sleeve.

When her felt her fingers come up to massage the back of his head he began to turn to press light kisses against her neck. He had missed her all day. He wasn’t usually this nervous around new people but he wanted to leave a good impression on her family. He was adding extra stress to his body for no reason. 

“Missed you so much today,” he muttered against her skin. 

“Missed this smell too.”

Y/N let out a soft giggle at what he was saying knowing that he was going to compliment her perfume. “Missed you so much, maybe I can come into your room tonight.” Harry moved away from her neck giving her a hard stare. 

“There is no way that I’m disrespecting your family.”

“Just one night, my love. I missed you so much last night. We haven’t slept apart in six months.” What she was saying was true. When they had officially made their relationship exclusive they immediately made sure to not sleep without each other. 

“It pains me to be without you.”

“You think it doesn’t pain me to roll over and not see this face in the morning?” Harry reached up pinching her pouting lips. “We will be in the same bed before you know it. Don’t think too hard about the days, sweetheart.” He reached up capturing her lips. 

“I won’t think about the time. Promise. How was your day?” Y/N diverted the conversation because they still had about five days here and would celebrate the New Year with friends. 

“Your Grandfather is a wonderful man. I just listened as he talked really and bossed me around. I was nervous to talk to anyone else. Other than that, I’ve been waiting around for you…and talking to anyone who took the time to talk to me.”

“Like Eliza,” they said at the same time laughing.

“He is peculiar, didn’t even say hello straight to the questions. I like that, he knows what he wants and doesn’t beat around the bush.” Y/N let out a light laugh knowing how much personality is in his little body. She felt a chill in your arms as Harry spoke up to ask Y/N about her day. 

“My Aunt practically bossed me around the entire time making me run all her errands.” Harry continued to listen as he shuffled off his jacket while she talked. “Then when we got here, I was told you were getting used to do some task too. So, I took a shower.” Harry went to go place his jacket around her arms. 

“You noticed I was cold?” “Of course I did, I was actually going to ask why you didn’t come out with a jacket…just this little dress… tempting me,” Harry said nipping at her skin and sliding his hand in between her thighs. It was out of view so no one would be able to tell what was going on. “Thought you didn’t want to disrespect my family,” Y/N said closing her eyes at the feeling of his fingers dancing on her skin.

“Am I doing something? I’m not doing anything.” He said teasingly keeping his fingers at a safe distance but just the right spot to get her excited. 

“You won’t get the chance to, Styles.” She stood up out of his touch as Harry groaned. Y/N slipped her arms through the sleeves letting Harry’s jacket drown her.

“If I can’t sneak into your room, you can’t tease me. Come on, the game is about to start.”

Harry was tucked into Y/N’s side as they watched her family get ready to play the infamous game called charades. Now in this household, it was taken seriously. Anyone who wanted to play could although many of her family members sat out due to how competitive it got. Everyone had already eaten, and the kids were already either asleep in one room together or were gone with their parents. 

“I think that’s all the teams for tonight? Any more?” Y/N wasn’t expecting a deep but at the same time timid voice speaks up. 

“I would like to play.” All of her family including Y/N turned their head at Harry. Most of them hadn’t heard Harry speak so most of them were curious about who was speaking. 

“Harry right?” Her uncle asked. Harry nodded his head.

“Of course, you can play, son. Is Y/N going to be your partner?” 

Harry looked over at her not even thinking that he had to have a partner, he didn’t even know if she wanted to play. Before he had the chance to change his mind taking it back that he wanted to play. Y/N could notice the look on his face and spoke up. “Oh, we’re playing. All of you are going down too. Right, H?” She held a smile on her face looking at his eyes light up.

“We do make a great team. Let the games begin!” Harry directed toward her family and everyone cheered in excitement. 

The game was amazing. They usually competed for gift cards, but this year it was for a mystery present under the tree. Everyone had technically gotten eliminated. The last teams who were against each other were Y/N and Harry against her cousin Pamela and her wife.

It was a tense round since it was the last, and the whole family was getting rowdy. Y/N and Harry had already gone getting a whopping 15 things guessed right in the time they had. Her cousin was cutting it close with time but they still had the chance to win. The only rule they had was that there could be no talking. You had to act out whatever it was. 

Everyone was paying attention to Y/N’s cousin trying to guess what it was in laughter. Pamela’s wife was acting out as if she was rock climbing. She was doing every gesture you could possibly think of. This is when Harry turned his attention to her as she mouthed rock to her partner. Pamela didn’t catch it the first time. Harry quickly caught Y/N’s attention who was laughing with her family. 

“Look. She’s mouthing the answer to her.” Y/N quickly put her attention on her cousin's wife. Y/N gasped and immediately stood up in ready to accuse the cheating couple, “cheaters! She’s telling you what it is.” The whole room gasped dramatically. 

“No, we didn’t.”

“Oh, but you did. We saw you. You’re caught, end the game. We’re the winners.” Harry stood up to join and her whole family laughed that this new person fit in perfectly. 

Y/N's uncle stood up to join in, “those who think they cheated say ‘I’”

A loud agreeance spread across the room with Harry being the loudest making Y/N and a few family members nearby laugh.

“Well, the winners of the annual Christmas charades for the year 2022 are Y/N and Harry.” A cheer filled the room as Y/N jumped into Harry’s arms. Everyone in the room watched the couple that was capturing their hearts. Without Harry even knowing it he had won over the hearts of her family with his competitiveness. 

As the house quieted down and everyone was retreating to their designated bedrooms. Y/N held her hand behind her as Harry held on as they walked up the stairs to the bedroom. When they got to the door, Y/N turned to face him. “Well, this is me.”

“Goodnight, my love.” Harry pressed his lips against her forehead savoring the moment. 

“Not enough.”

“That’s all you get for now. I mean it.” “Not even one on the lips?” 

“It’s never just one on the lips.”

Puckering her lips, Harry fell for her antics without her even having to try. Looking around to make sure none of her family was around, he bend down quickly kissing her on the lips. 

“Now stay in my room.”

“See! I told you is never one, you little devil.” “C’mon, one night won’t kill you.” “Absolutely not.” “Stay with me until I pass out. A few head rubs and I’m done for.” Harry paused to think about the offer. He had been missing her presence but he knew they had to be here for a few days after tonight, and he knew he would end up missing her more as the days went on.

“As soon as you hear the first snore, you can leave. Come on, baby.” 

“You’re sick.” She knew that anytime she used that pet name on him he was bound to give her the world if she asked. 

“Just until you sleep, get in.” He said to her.

She smiled brightly as they slipped into her room. Closing the door, they walked to the bed. Harry collapsed staring up at her, without saying anything Y/N turned her body so that her back was facing him as she started to undress.

“Oh, now you’re being cruel.”

“No sleeping in here, no look at my tits.” 

“Fair.” 

Y/N laughed at him accepting his defeat as she slipped on one of his shirts. Kicking her dress to the side, she walked to the side of the bed getting under the covers. Harry adjusted himself to get right behind her. His fingers came up messaging her head as she let out a moan in delight. 

“Right there, that’s the spot.”

“Hush, go to bed.” Soon she slipped into a deep sleep in Harry’s arms. He hated it when he had to gently untangle them. Kissing her head several times he was out of the room. 

Waking up, she immediately felt the emptiness behind her and frowned. She was hoping that Harry might have accidentally slept with her. Crossing the room, she took some workout pants from her suitcase slipping them on to go downstairs. It was Christmas Eve and she was more than excited. Today she got to help out with dinner…which mainly involved her being her Grandma’s taste tester. 

When she made her way out of the room, she noticed how bright it truly was and realized that she overslept a bit. Heading down the stairs, all the men were in the living room watching a football game on T.V. quickly her eyes scanned the rowdy room, and her boyfriend was nowhere in sight. He loved football and it hurt her that he still wasn’t fitting in. She made a beeline to the backyard thinking that’s where he might be until he heard his voice.

“Just a pinch of salt in there will do it.” It sounded as if it was coming from the kitchen. 

Once she made it, she couldn’t believe her eyes. 

Her boyfriend was surrounded by all of the older women in the family as they cooked for tonight’s dinner. Harry stood over a bowl, mixing something while wearing her designated apron. What shocked her more is her Grandma getting him to taste her gravy. 

“Now what is going on?” All of their eyes turned to her as the women began to all talk at once.

“Harry is helping us out today.” “He’s the best sous chef.”

“You overslept and we needed an extra set of hands.”

Harry smugly shrugged his shoulders while continuing to mix. Y/N’s Grandma came around the island to talk to her. “You’ve been replaced. Now you have to keep Harry around or it will be quite awkward when I invite my new…my new…wait one moment.”

“Harry, what’s that word that you taught me?”

“Bestie.” Harry looked up answering before he continued to do his task.

“Right, it would be awkward when I invite my new bestie over still if you two ever break up.” Y/N smiled at her Grandma’s words loving that her Grandma took him under her wing. 

“I perhaps it would be. What’s up with me being replaced?”

“That’s my apron.” Y/N said like a child who had to share their favorite toy.

“Times are changing, honey. Harry, come try my mashed potatoes after you’re done mixing the cookie dough.” 

“You let him mix the cookie dough? That’s my job. I always eat some of it.”

“It’s delicious too,” Harry spoke up teasing her with bright eyes. Y/N walked up around the island next to him standing close.

“What’s the pout for?”

“You’re replacing me already. My family is going to treat me like a ghost soon.”

“Good, then you will never get rid of me. I mean I’m already in with your Grandparents, you’re stuck with me.” Harry said smiling at her while raising his eyebrows poking fun at her.

“I will gladly be stuck to you. The apron looks nice on you.”

“I know right look at my waist,” he stopped mixing to use his hands to show off the apron.

Y/N laughed trying to cover it up because it was too loud. Her Grandma walked over immediately. 

“You’re distracting my sous chef. If you don’t have an apron you must go. I don’t make the rules.”

“You do make the rules! But I’ll go. Harry this isn’t over.” Y/N looked at him teasingly. 

“I wouldn’t dare think so, my love.” Y/N headed out of the kitchen but stayed at a safe distance where she could still spy on Harry without him noticing. Her heart filled with joy as all the women in her family fond over Harry. To think of how nervous Harry was about meeting her family, and now to see him fitting in with ease was just beautiful. She watched Harry’s genuine laugh come out while he was standing in that kitchen next to her Grandma.

Y/N knew the rest of the trip was going to be amazing just as she hoped.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Too Sweet 💜 Chapter 1 - You keep telling me to live right

PAIRING: Demon!Yoongi x (f)reader

SUMMARY: Coming from unabashed wealth has its perks — like never having to lift a finger in your life. When that suddenly changes, you end up at a crossroads: how far will you go to have everything you want?

WORD COUNT: 7.3k

GENRE: Crossroad Demon AU (Sloth), smut, angst

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: addiction (smoking weed and mentions of doing drugs + aftermath + withdrawal), implied trauma and abuse, including neglect growing up, dysfunctional family dynamics, eviction, unprotected semi-public sex, nipple play, mentions of blood, biting, hair pulling, bruising, making bad decisions/mistakes

A.N. This story almost didn't happen... thank you to @colormepurplex2 for brainstorming with me and literally setting my thoughts in motion. Thank you also to @colormepurplex2, @lunarelle1013, @heathfritillary, and @cherrysoulth for being wonderful betas. This is my entry in the upcoming @bangtanwritershq Seven Deadly Sins quarterly event!

Masterpost | Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Inspired by Hozier - Too Sweet | Next Chapter >

Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place. — Paulo Coelho

You faced the stern eyes looking down on you with a raised eyebrow on a blank expression. It was a sight that once scared you as a child, but that feeling had since become foreign. Your perfectly plucked, brushed, and filled-in eyebrow twitched as you sat at your father's desk and twirled the chair to face the office and give the painting your back. Regardless of the ostentatious decor, with priceless vases, tapestries, and paintings in the grand wooden floor room, you ignored everything to focus on packing the bud further inside the glass pipe bowl in your hands so you could light it properly.

Who cares… You leaned back on the office chair, then turned to face the painting again. You held the smoke inside your lungs for a pleasurable moment, feeling how every inch of you finally relaxed. Not you; you couldn’t care. Hadn’t for a while. Regardless of how your great-grandmother looked down on you from that painting, none of it mattered. You didn’t give a shit about who she was, where those fields and mines depicted in the landscape behind her were, or how much power and wealth she had or left you. That was for your parents to worry about and they did a great job at that.

You took another drag, blinking away the rising burn in your eyes as the high started to hit. Your lips stretched in a smile, and the more you thought of your situation, the more you wanted to burst out laughing. You had heard stories about her from your nanny — that woman was outright feared, rumored to deal with the devil or be a demon herself. And it made you laugh — because she looked downright austere and at that point, you had to wonder if you two were related. 

As you turned side to side on the office chair, letting the blur accentuate the dizziness, your eyes fell on one of the framed pictures on the desk. You recognized yourself slowly on the smiling child — you looked sweet, a bundle of joy laughing in a garden you didn’t know where. 

You scoffed the smoke out, showing a mocked smile to the painting of your ancestor hanging on the wall above your head. That, right there, you mused as you leaned back — that was what had become of that scary woman’s legacy.

Your eyes roamed the painting again without much thought as the high expanded and cleared your thoughts. Your mind was empty as you had wished, but then your thoughts fixed on something.  An almost humanoid shadow right beside a crossroad lay oddly inside your ancestor's shadow. It didn’t align with the ostentation of wealth portrayed in everything else in the painting, and it made you think of a story your nanny used to tell.

Or it would have, but the noise had finally reached upstairs. You sighed the smoke out of your lungs; your only saving grace was that another puff promised distance from the ruckus about to invade your peace.

“What do you mean?!”

You would recognize that screech anywhere, even before your mother busted inside the office.

“My fault?! She’s your daughter too!”

“You’re her mother.”

Ahh, and there was your sweet father’s voice. In the back of your mind, you wondered a few things: why were they home so early, how come they hadn’t noticed the smell, or your presence, for that matter? And as usual, in the cloudiness of things, you realized that it didn’t matter.

“You misogynistic pig! Maybe if you hadn’t neglected your parental duties as a father, she’d—”

You knew your mother stopped her venomous rant because your father said your name out loud, which had you sighing. It was time to show your face so you turned the chair, though you’d be damned if you stopped puffing away at your pipe.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Your mother was screaming again.

Meanwhile, your father only glanced at the painting above you before settling his cold eyes on you as you placed your bare feet over the desk. Your mother’s screams were an echo in the back of your mind, and just like your father’s gaze, they dissipated and you chuckled.

You almost believed you were alone, such was the peace diffusing from your lungs as you took another drag of smoke. You closed your burning eyes to retain the calm, but someone pushed your legs off and yanked at your hand.

“Just what are you doing?!”

“It’s just mary, calm down,” you rasped, annoyed at your mother’s attempts to break your state of mind.

You couldn’t really retain any of her screeching reprimands and kept escaping into your haze. She dragged you to your feet and both your parents threw whatever ammunition they had at you, until a slap on your hand hit too strong and you dropped the pipe.

The glass breaking rang in your ears as you raised your eyes. Your father was furious, “As if this attitude of yours isn’t bad enough, we just got the call. Again.”

You closed your eyes, drained and exasperated at the conversation before it even started.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find out?” Your mother’s voice was wavering but you just shrugged.

“Can’t you see she can’t think?”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I didn’t buy her drugs!”

“You keep defending her!”

“I want to help her!”

“So do I!!”

Your mother turned away crying and you looked around, numb through it all. There wasn’t a single reason to give a fuck, not that you could see.

Your father’s stern gaze felt somewhat familiar, “You’re twenty now, and this isn’t going anywhere. We want to help you, and college is clearly not helping.”

“They say the third time's the charm,” you chuckled, looking down at your feet. There were pieces of glass all around you.

“We’re not letting you drop out a third time, there’s no point.” Your father’s remark was dry, bordering on hopeless and his eyes crossing the room to your sobbing mother didn’t escape you. “We picked a rehabilitation center—”

“No.”

You were firm and tired of the noise and trouble, so you made your way out, ignoring the cries, the glass, and the calls.

“For fucks sake, why do you behave like this?!”

Your father was frustrated yet you just shrugged, “Maybe you should have had more kids.”

You didn’t turn around to see the trail of destruction you were leaving behind, you just left. In your wake, a crying woman had frozen, livid, and a man had finally reached his breaking point.

“You little shit.”

You groaned into your pillow with a booming headache making you want to escape your skin. The rays of sunlight were gentle and yet it hurt, it was too much. Your head was ringing with a sound so loud you instantly knew it couldn’t have been anything from outside. No, it came from you, within you, and you rolled belly up with a sigh. You had done it again, no wonder you felt like shit.

Something bothered you, so you raised your hand to wipe your chin and immediately grimaced at the traces of vomit stenching up the place. You heaved a deep breath, knowing by your general piss-poor state of mind and body that you had fucked up last night. Sobriety never came with more than guilt and an incommensurable void, but this time you wondered why. You didn’t plan on getting that wasted, so what was it that—?

Finally, you recognized the music still blaring from the speakers and sighed. You knew that artist and it was annoying enough that it was too loud, let alone playing such subpar music in your freaking room.

You sat up and immediately recognized that it was not your bedroom. You forced yourself to get up and turn off the music while you looked around with a scowl. You had taken the party to your family home’s lounge and trashed everything in sight, whether by drinking, kicking, ripping, or plainly vomiting over things as you had done on the floor and couch.

The light on the speaker's control shut off finally and everything reverted to silence, immersing you in an echo that made you dizzy along with the spinning room. But that dark screen reminded you exactly of how you passed from partying and trying to light up your miserable existence to going nuts.

Baby, I can never tellHow do you sleep so well?

It was that bloody song. Thinking about it unnerved you brutally, balling your fists and clenching your teeth until there were traces of blood. That song that reminded you so well of who you once were and what had become of you.

You kicked the nearby table supporting the sound system console and turned your back, ignoring everything around you to get out. Instantly, you frowned when the big wooden doors offered resistance, quickly realizing it was your own doing. You unlocked the door and stomped out, annoyed at everything that had happened, from the moment you contributed to that loathsome song to the perdition road that led you there; spent, used, and lost.

Barging through your bedroom, you ignored how neat and clean everything was now and reached the bathroom to step inside your wide walk-in shower. Of course, as usual, everyone was cleaning after you to make everything look presentable and flawless. Clothes thrown around? Gone. Smudges of foundation? Wiped clean. Smell of weed on your sheets? Changed. God forbid your misery was out in plain sight. As if a single glance at you wasn’t enough to tell. 

You groaned as you took off your pants, disgusted by how your body tended to let loose when you got too high, and then it hit you. How stupid were you? One voice over the speakers and you mixed into your drink whatever powder you could find. All to lose yourself, to forget. Because of that fucking old song; you’d think you’d be stronger than that so many years later.

But enough with the chastising, you sighed to yourself. You had no energy for it so you might as well do something good for a change. You cleaned and massaged every stiff inch of skin and muscle, brushed your teeth, removed your makeup, and brushed your hair. Only lotion coated your skin from top to bottom after you finished your shower, and looking into the mirror, you recognized how tired you felt. You wanted to do something good today, but nothing extravagant, so after putting on a soft, blue woolen dress you reached your desk and searched in the drawers. Maybe a bit of speed could help you get in the right mindset — if you could find it.

You huffed in annoyance with your failure but had decided to stay calm today, so no trashing yet another room. Instead, you opted to ask the staff because only they could have touched your stuff. You opened the door to call out for them from the central staircase but staggered — Butler Kim was standing outside.

You blinked, bewildered, taking in the contrite visage on the older aide alongside a pink suitcase; your suitcase.

“Good morning, miss.”

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.”

There was apprehension in his lips before he spoke and your mind blanked. He was talking but your head was blocking it, and when he finished, you scoffed.

“As if they would.”

Butler Kim raised a hand with a letter and your stomach dropped, immediately testing you not to barf. You took a deep breath and opened the letter, your Father’s handwriting evident in every line. Your insides twisted and turned with every trace of ink. You struggled to fit the words in your mind, your heart begging for it to stop as your gaze followed the letters obsessively to the end. You didn’t want to know, but you had to know. You were incredulous and at the same time vindicated. You needed someone to still value you, to believe in you but knew you weren’t worth the trouble, and that was the proof.

You lowered the letter with quick breaths, trying to keep yourself sound when Butler Kim raised his hand again to give you your phone. As if you had understood his suggestion, you confirmed your Father’s words by logging into your bank accounts, which were now empty. An email awaited you to inform you that you had been kicked out of college, and the luggage beside Butler Kim screamed volumes.

“I have to leave?”

Your tone was suddenly more childlike than you remembered and Butler Kim must have thought so too — his eyes watered. “Yes. Orders are to drag you out of the property if need be.”

Your eyebrows scrunched as the pain hit you in ways you didn’t expect. You knew they didn’t care for you, so where was the surprise? Why was there a sense of betrayal?

You spun on your heels and made your way down the stairs to the main level, knowing that Butler Kim followed you in silence. No one dared cross your path, even if you could feel eyes on you along the way. You stopped at the door and waited for your handbag and keys, as usual, but only the handbag was given.

You took it and searched inside but only your wallet was in it. “My car keys?”

Butler Kim shook his head with a hint of sorrow and you gritted your teeth in annoyance. No car, no keys to any other property, and no money. Your anger was boiling your blood when he cleared his throat, “One last thing.”

He extended another letter to you and you eyed it fearfully. If it was something from your mother, you—

You scoffed — an admission letter to a rehab facility. You fought the impulse to throw everything against the wall. Instead, you shoved your phone and letters inside the handbag, yanking the suitcase handle so you could carry it out. A final scoff left you outside upon seeing the security on stand-by to escort you out if you had been difficult, but why would you? You knew very well where you stood, being kicked out was just a natural follow-up.

You wondered, then, why you hated it so much. You ignored the tall bulky men, and got around the driveway and onto the road, pretending you didn’t see your bright pink 911 GT3 Porsche parked where you left it. Turning down onto the familiar road was easy — contemplating that it would take ages to get out was not. You glanced at the orchard in the distance, but decided that crossing the opposing fields was probably the fastest way out; it was when you drove your car anyway.

As you walked endlessly down the road that would hopefully lead you out of the property, you kept stomping your feet and wanting to kick and punch something. Unluckily for you, there were only gardens and fields around you, so not much qualified. You were too tired anyway; by the look of things you’d need a break before you actually passed the front gate.

You stopped walking and frowned when you looked around you — the sun was setting, its rays still lighting the soft landscape around you. Because of it, the signs towering over you on that crossroad were even more imposing, with a long dark shadow cast over you. The arrows pointed in four different directions and you frowned; you didn’t recognize that place. Since when was the road an offbeat track?

Realization hit you so suddenly that you thought you were hallucinating. If the sun had been gone and the whole plain cast in shadows, then, of course, you would have recognized it sooner. For all the times you stared at your great-grandmother’s painting while getting high, the same as yesterday, you would have always recognized it. And with it, the legend your nanny used to tell you. You chuckled and fell to your knees.

How laughable. That such a powerful woman would be remembered for something so silly. That such a strong person would have a legacy that ended up in the dirt, sweating, thirsty, and panting over the slightest effort in contrast with the usual absence of feeling.

Your eyes stayed on said dirt, dry at that end of spring by a warm setting sun. You started humming, remembering your nanny’s voice in the back of your mind as you curiously grazed an acrylic nail on the soil. 

“I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees.”

The hum grew in you, melodically flowing effortlessly and you reached inside your handbag. 

“Standing at the crossroad, I tried to flag a ride.”

You kept singing as you searched for something with your photo and found your driver's license.

“I’m standing at the crossroad.”

There was nothing on your mind when you opened a hole in the ground with your bare fingers and buried the card. 

Only a drop of sweat trailed down your temple as you kept humming, “I believe I’m sinking down.”

You stared at the crossroad sign above you, the tall imposing metal foreboding as you wondered about your directionlessness. Even with the options right in front of you, as the wind trashed your hair and a colder temperature crept in, the reality was dawning as the sun settled — you had no idea what to do with yourself.

That was until a soft voice intersected the air, “Such a beautiful voice out in a wind so cold.”

Your eyes snapped back up and widened — there was a man, where did he come from? He was taller than you with short dark hair contrasting a marble-tone skin. Black eyes observed you and you did the same as you realized he was wearing a black shirt and slacks. He looked polished and clean, but then how had he just appeared there, in the middle of the grounds of your parent’s mansion? Out of nowhere?

He hummed casually and ran a hand through his hair, the falling soft strands drawing your eyes to the double loops on each ear. You were mesmerized by how the last rays of the sun were catching there when you noticed that he was done observing the situation and was instead nearing you.

He crouched in front of you, “You don’t have a guitar.”

You frowned; what the hell was he talking about?

He simply chuckled, “Ohh, I see.” There was an unsettling amusement in his laugh, “The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, as they say.”

Your stomach twisted, realizing the position you were in. You did just bury your identity, signaling you were ready to sink down and flag a ride. Though you didn’t mean it literally, but… what if you did?

“I don’t see why a darling like you would be out here, exposed to the cold.”

Your heart was racing as you tried to catch up. It was illogical that this man had shown up there without a vehicle of any kind and without making a sound, and without you noticing. It was illogical that you trusted his presence, as if it made sense, all while feeling a deep uneasiness inside your chest. He was ethereally beautiful with a baritone, soft-spoken voice; was that why you were so thrilled? Because he made you feel as though you were standing at the edge of your sanity?

You collected yourself to finally say, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

For a moment you wondered if you had assumed wrong, just by his lack of reaction. Or maybe you were still high and hallucinating this whole thing?

But he chuckled and it emboldened you, “Aren’t you going to take me somewhere warmer?”

He showed a gummy smile that contrasted drastically with his sharp dark eyes, “I’m not a Kharon, but by all means.”

He straightened up and your breath caught; a black limousine came to a halt right beside him and he extended a hand for you to take. You reached for it and stood with wide, enchanted eyes, bewildered by what was happening in front of you. How did that limousine get there? Without you hearing or seeing it?

He opened the door for you and guided you in, “I’ll take you where you want to go.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes settling on the white leather seats at both ends of the cabin with a minibar in wood on the length of the car. It wasn’t one of your parent’s limousines, at least, not that you remembered.

You settled on the seat in front of you and tried to sort your thoughts as he entered behind you and closed the door. The limousine started driving, though you couldn’t see the driver through the smoked glass. The second you looked down, you noticed your pink luggage and handbag on the seat across from yours. A shiver ran down your spine.

“I didn’t think it would work,” you mumbled.

He hummed, casually turning to look at you and you took a moment to gather the courage to face him.

“I thought you… you only showed up at midnight.”

He chuckled genuinely, “Should I have let you wait until then?”

“No.”

You turned to face away, annoyed at the prospect. You didn’t know what would happen, but waiting and wasting away churned your guts.

“Here.”

You turned at his request, glancing at the glass he was extending to you with two fingers of an amber liquid. He was swirling one for himself on his other hand and you mentally shrugged before accepting it, “Thank you.”

He hummed after a long sip, approving the choice as if he hadn’t poured it himself. You didn’t voice this, thankful as you were for whatever you were about to drink. Though when it made its way to your tongue, you were staggered. Your tired heart pumped blood harshly as your mind scrapped for things to make sense. That was—

“Very good taste,” he mused, taking a second swig. “I thought you’d be a cocktail or champagne kind of girl.”

You were staring up at him, befuddled. “My favorite.”

He hummed again with a third and final quaff, letting the flavors coat his tongue before settling the glass down. “Exquisite.”

Your heart wasn’t settling even though your thoughts were — there was no denying the reality before your eyes. He appeared out of nowhere, had a limousine show up without a sound, all but conjured up your luggage over the seat, and knew your favorite drink without you having to say a word.

You glanced at him — and he was beautiful. The kind of flame you knew would burn you but that you wanted to touch all the same. To get the kind of mark you knew would hurt, but feel so real. The thrill was still there, pushing your shaky heart to the limit, but something else was surging. Maybe adrenaline.

You parted your lips as you turned your body to face him. He was unreal and you had always been searching for the impossible.

“I want—” Your voice died down, not because he raised an eyebrow or out of fear, but because it somehow hurt to voice it aloud. “I don’t want to ever have to lift a finger.”

His eyebrows twitched, “But you never have?”

“I’ll have to if they disown me.”

He chuckled, “That’s true.” He glanced at the luggage, “Seems like they are set on it.”

You nodded with bile rising from your stomach. It wasn’t the luggage or the situation per se that annoyed you so much. It was that letter; it was the confirmation of what you had feared and dreaded your whole life — that there was no point.

He sighed loudly, “What kind of parents kick their only child out?”

He tutted and it was like putting salt in your wounds. You swallowed the bile, “That’s why I’m here.”

He tilted his head over his hand, contemplating if that was the truth and you faced him. Suddenly, you were sure he could read you like a book. So, he knew and you knew. There was no point in wasting your breath on the obvious.

He seemed to agree, “But what would it mean to never have to lift a finger?” You shrugged, irritated by the very thought of having to think about it, and he leaned a bit in your direction, “Come now, kitten. Wishes have to be clear, or else, there won't be anything I can do for you.”

Your eyes plunged into his dark gaze and you shuddered, or rather vibrated. Why was he talking to you so sweetly, getting under your skin so gently you could actually believe he cared?

“Money.” You forced yourself to look away and breathe. This was all happening so fast and he was right; the devil was in the details. “I want an endless source of money that doesn’t depend on my parents.”

His cheeks finally squeezed into a wicked grin, “Like an inheritance?”

“No,” you turned to him again with a raised eyebrow. It was as though you could follow his thoughts, at least partially. “Nothing that is linked in any way to my family.”

A flicker passed his eyes and you were sure he had thought something vile. Not that you cared. You sat more comfortably on the white leather — you just wanted what you wanted, and that was the whole point.

“Anything else?”

“I never want to have to manage it, to worry, to work,” you insisted, suddenly conscious of the impossibility of what you were asking. He was smiling and you couldn’t read it. “I want to be free.”

His smile grew wider and you could swear he found amusement in your words again, “That’s it? Come now, don’t sell yourself short.”

Normally, such a reaction would have annoyed you or had you throwing daggers but instead, you turned inwards. If he was really who you thought he was, and you could ask for anything, then shouldn’t you truly ask for the impossible?

“I want to feel something,” you confessed.

“Something?”

He sounded more curious than intrigued and you nodded without hesitation. In the silence, you glanced at him, and suddenly the wave of emotional dread became a tsunami. “Something good.”

To your surprise, he didn’t mock you or chuckle; he quite simply observed you. You knew he could see it deep inside your eyes — that void. You hoped he saw beyond your dark circles, sunken cheeks, and exhausted spirit. You had been searching and you couldn’t find it; you hoped he understood.

“Good, huh?” He was contemplative as he leaned forward over his legs and supported his arms. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

A new shiver straightened your spine, awakening your senses. His darkening eyes were intense but you found yourself wanting whatever he was giving. He wouldn’t lie to you; maybe he was the only one who could give you what you had been searching for all along.

He seemed to be waiting for something and was surprised when you passed him your glass of half-drunk whiskey so he could put it away. Your hands rubbed your legs pacifyingly before you turned to him with a leg bent over the seat. You didn’t know what happened next, but you were ready.

He put the glass away next to his and turned to you, sitting closer, and your heart drummed inside your chest. All you could do was blink at him as he leaned forward and against you. Your hairs stood on end — you were frozen in place. You waited for something to happen, something important and life-changing that could fix you.

His breath fanned your lips moments later and you realized you were staring at his lips. It could be because you didn’t want to miss anything in case he talked, but as he drew near, your eyes hooded and you realized you were closer to being burned than you thought.

“Price,” he whispered, eyes equally fixed on your mouth. “We have to discuss the price.”

You swallowed dryly, “What is it?”

It took him a second before he looked into your eyes, “Nothing. For ten years.” 

You could almost see him calculating. “And then?”

“Then I come for you.”

Your heart was racing as if your instinct knew better than to do such a crazy thing. But as frightened as you may have felt, you were also exhilarated. You didn’t think you could ever do something remotely as exciting as this and in exchange for exactly what you wanted, no less. How could you say no?

“I need you to understand this, kitten. I’m not taking ten years, I’m reducing your time to ten years.”

You blinked and observed his features. From that up close, no detail could escape your eyes and you wondered. How everything seemed flawless, without a blemish or hair out of place, and yet how a semblance of emotion could be found. As if he actually did care.

The corners of your lips twitched; funny. That he would care while you don't. “Make me feel good.”

Your eyes bored into his as your hand raised to his nape and mingled with his hair. You couldn't discern his thoughts but you knew he could see it — all you wanted was to feel right, even for a moment. If he could give that to you, make the impossible reality, then you'd pay any price.

You were expecting his lips and the smokey, sweet taste they carried from your favorite whiskey. What you didn't expect was the lightness that accompanied them when he brushed his mouth to yours as if to give you time to change your mind.

Your fingertips curled around his hair, attaching your intention to go through with it, and he obliged. His mouth locked with yours and lulled you with every wave to open a little more until a warm tongue entered you. There was molten spice and a tangible sweetness in his taste, and you pulled him closer, finding that you liked it.

A pair of hands dragged you closer and you sighed, leaning into his touch. If his presence awoke your senses, then his kiss broadened them, and suddenly you were searching for the hit you knew would come.

He held you at bay, though, with firm hands keeping you on your spot. You were jittery, almost feverish; if not for his grip, you would have been on his lap already. You didn’t find this disappointing, though; you trusted he would take you there eventually.

You gasped when he pulled you closer and fell back on the seat with him over you. Your legs instantly parted to have him settle, your dress riding up to reveal your hips easily. He touched the exposed skin softly, pressing only until you whimpered as if to get accustomed to your limits before truly touching you. Every caress was firmer and far from gentle, and yet to your ragged soul, it was still the softest touch you remembered.

You expected it to happen like every other time: a quick brush of your underwear to the side, a blunt intrusion, then a few minutes of pleasure trying to build until it fizzled out with your partner's peak draining them of any willpower. Even expecting this you still wanted it, scratching the skin up the back of his head to intertwine your fingers in the soft, black locks. Hence your surprise when he pulled away and looked at you. His eyes were stone cold but you could see a fire hidden underneath, one that resembled yours. At that moment, you thought you two were more alike than different and it pushed you to press your lips to his, daring to dive in. 

It was maybe the last confirmation he needed. His kiss consumed you, his fingertips digging at your skin and drawing a whimper out of you. He split your mouths again to nuzzle and taste down your neck and you smiled, elated. Your lips were swollen from his desire, your flesh kneed with every touch as his tongue traced lower, pushing aside the cleavage of your dress; it all condensed in a new tidal wave. One that could replenish your endless void with new sensations, with the hope of something new and permanent, and you almost rejoiced.

Your brain didn’t pick up that his mouth was tracing your skin so closely, lighting fires in its wake as if no clothes or barriers separated you. You sighed and let your head fall back, allowing the waves to enrapture you yet again. It didn’t matter at all as long as he kept his promise. His hands were grounding you, tightening around your asscheeks to keep you from wiggling as he expertly dove into your chest. Every lick raised your senses higher, sharpening your ability to feel every detail. From his nails piercing ever so slightly to his teeth grazing and his tongue rasping along your nipples in a tease, you wondered if it was meant to feel this good or if it was your distorted sense of pleasure that was translating everything wrong.

You figured it didn’t matter when something pressed hard to your clit, making you jolt. Your eyes snapped open to look down and you clenched around nothing. There wasn't a single hair out of place; he looked perfectly composed with a nipple between his teeth as his palm pushed and rubbed at your clit. Meanwhile, you were aware of your disgruntled state — your heart was racing, your blood rushing everywhere as you exuded sweat and heat. But it didn’t matter because that fire was still there, behind his dark eyes. Every movement was premeditated as if he could read the way in your eyes, or read your mind. Suddenly, you had the impression that he knew everything. He knew of all the useless partners you had, all the pointless attempts at a connection, all the lonesome nights and mornings searching for that feeling deep within yourself, only to be met by the familiar void inside you.

He pressed his palm up and you were certain he could read your mind. Not too strong, not too soft; just that perfect middle that only you knew of because you could feel it. He must have too; otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept going, finding it at every turn, pressing his fingertips to your supple flesh and nibbling at your chest to elicit the right turmoil inside you.

You felt like a stringed musical instrument being strummed to perfection, and as the pleasure threatened to take you, you gloriously let it. You screamed your release, shooting so high you couldn’t feel the leather underneath you. Your hands gripped his hair, your lungs unable to keep any air in as your heart reveled in the high of a familiar sensation. There it was, the hit you had been craving which nothing seemed to give you anymore. No more void, only presence. You were finally alive.

Your lips twitched into a smile, fingers petting his head in delight. You could not stop smiling and you certainly did not want to come down. He let go of your nipple to look at you and you burned even harder — no way in hell you'd let that feeling escape.

You pulled his head so his lips could crash to yours, though you already had something else in mind. He was awfully clothed for what you wanted to do with him, so your first target was his pants. Strangely, you couldn't make sense of them; where was the button or zipper? But he helped you, keeping your mouth busy while one hand quickly got you what you wanted. It could have taken an eternity; you couldn’t tell with the greedy way your hunger dazed your senses. Yet, you were aware as soon as there was a familiar, warm pressure at your core, wishing everything would pause so you could feel it, but there was no time.

You whimpered with the intrusion, burning with the bluntness as if you hadn't hated it every time before. But it didn’t feel the same — the searing sensation traveled to your nerve ends, making you clench for a better feeling, hoping to get a grip on reality.

You were proud of his quiet grunts and his smirk as his hips began snapping into yours. There was a volatility in the way he could use you to fill his own void, and your nails sank into his neck to control it somehow.

You should have known that was not how things worked, and yet even as he grabbed your wrist and pressed it to the leather near your head, you only smirked. A chuckle burst out of you when he gripped your hair with the same hand, keeping you still as he rutted into you. Then you finally laughed when, in between the ever-mounting bliss, his other hand gripped your chin to force you to take his kiss.

Your laugh died inside your throat with a cry but you chased him. You bucked your hips to meet his, pushed your tongue inside his mouth, and grabbed his hair with your free hand, locking you both together. You wanted more; more emotion, more intensity. Not just to fill the void but to overflow. 

To your surprise, he didn't push back. He didn't press you down, use any other gesture to keep you in check, or oppress you. Rather, when you gave the intention to want to move, he was already grabbing your neck and supporting your lower back so he'd fall back with you on top of him.

You didn't know what that frenzy was or where it came from, but it took over you. As soon as you straddled him, there was no inhibition, nothing that could keep you back. You jumped and rolled your hips over him, finding a way to feed your craving. Somehow, with every wave he pierced deeper; you became fuller, out of breath, dizzy, and soon, about to fly again. 

You realized he was feeding into it, with fingertips pressed to your hips so hard they were bruising. His dark eyes were fuel and you threw your hair back over your shoulders, meaning to take the sinful view of what you two were doing.

It didn’t disappoint. You were naked over him, breasts swaying with every move, your hips hard at work to take him as deep inside you as possible. Every gushing sound made you wetter, every descent hit you harder, and every clash of skin bruised you deeper in a sequence of highs and lows you were brutally searching for.

You thought the crude pleasure could sate your ache, but he was quick to show you that there was no such thing. You looked down to figure out the reason why your voice was lilting desperately. A single thumb where your bodies met made every sway of your hips multiply the ecstasy a thousandfold, redefining the mapping of your pleasure. There was no end to the scale, no matter how much you ground, moaned, or searched; the promise of endless gratification would keep on straining you, and you’d let it.

He sat up, mouth aiming straight for your chest and you leaned back to give him space. You couldn’t buck your hips as freely, but you didn’t need to, not when he was reaching into you so deep, dragging out each whimper lewdly. His licks over your nipples made you sink your nails into his scalp, riding each sensation to new heights until suddenly your world was overturned.

Your arms hampered your fall and you huffed, frowning at the fluffy white floor beneath you. Since when was there a carpet?

He pulled your hips up to his level and pushed himself inside, earning a desperate moan. It was as though that was what he wanted, and you gripped the soft carpet as you tried not to writhe in pleasure. How did he know you were craving him the most? To feel him as raw and intensely as possible? To have every cry and plea scratch your throat, regardless if blood would seep through the roots as he pulled your hair and arched your back? You didn’t care for your burning lungs, watery eyes, or parched mouth. This was it. You pushed back to impale yourself as much as you could, quivering from the mounting sensations despite knowing you shouldn’t. It was deviant and wrong but you craved it all the same, and that hunger must have been what being alive felt like. 

You had taken it rough before but didn’t remember screaming like this. It was novel to cry because you wanted more, your acrylic nail tips bending with the strength of your grip on the carpet’s filaments, reaching your flesh and sinking in your palms. Even as you swore the pain and bliss were branding your core, you knew you were completely subdued, drained bit by bit of everything that made you into anything he wanted you to be.

And that was how you snapped, nothing left of you but the burning cascade of bliss wavering from you with every spasm. You arched your back even more to deepen the feeling, bent to the limit beyond pain when his pleasure risked splitting you in half. You shrieked, pain and pleasure so deep in you that you jolted. Finally, as your fire liquified and streamed down your legs, you halted.

You were expecting to hit the floor with a thud, but instead, you kept hovering. Your nerves were so overcharged that you couldn’t feel his claws sinking into your skin, no sting from the lacerations, and no chafe from how severely he pounded into you to the point it burned. You were gently welcomed to the floor, ignoring the stains of crimson surrounding you and littering the soft carpet. As he bit you, throbbing inside you so deep it could have reached your throat, you still didn’t react.

Finally, his teeth released the back of your neck and kissed your shoulder and you raised your head, a smile adorning your lips. You recognized your heart thrumming frenetically, at the brink of failing with the strain you had just imposed but not even that phased you. You didn’t have the strength to do much more. All you could muster was to settle your gaze on him when he pulled you towards him.

You laughed to yourself. Were you still high from last night? How could he be real? But he was… Maybe, or maybe not. You mused, still winded. How else could one explain the trace of care in his eyes? The question hanging in them?

Are you sure?

You grinned; you could almost believe him.

You cupped his cheek before making a last effort to press his lips, “Yes.”

And something shook you. Something spread inside you from that kiss; bitter like poison, branding like fire, yet soothing somehow. It could have stayed an euphemism if you didn’t feel the sharp incisions in patterns you couldn’t identify engraving your bones, guts, and soul.

When the feeling settled and he parted your mouths, your smile returned in full. He granted you your wish, irrespective of logic or feasibility, regardless of your faith in him, yourself, or life in general.

He pulled you up. In the blink of an eye, everything changed, at least externally. You were fully clothed and sitting on the leather seat again; hair, nails, and everything else composed. He was also on his seat and the limousine was coming to a stop. You could have been annoyed at the lack of control in that situation, but you still had every sensation deep under your skin. A smile graced your lips at the thought of exploring yourself to find where every little sting came from.

He opened the door for you and waved you out with a skewed smile and you chuckled. Maybe you could start living right.

[atinylittlepain]

A High Price - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

She's been with Joel and Ellie since the beginning. When she finds out Joel's plans for Tommy to go with her and Ellie the rest of the way, she decides it's time to end whatever closeness they had shared. But a change of plans and a brush with death forces both of them to come to terms with just how much they’re willing to pay to hold onto each other.

warnings | 18+ angst, smut, canon-typical violence

a/n | this fic follows the events of episode 6 verrryyy closely, but I fixed it :) but also, it's a doozy folks, you've been warned

The town of Jackson is making her nervous. Mostly because she can see how uneasy Joel has been since they got here, how he wearily eyes the children that seem to be everywhere, his dismay at the sight of Christmas decorations . She can’t help but feel much the same, it’s like they’ve found the one place in the world where time paused before everything went to shit, and after months on the grizzled road, it’s far more than just a shock to the system. Ellie seems equally perturbed, and her hackles have been up from the start. 

She softened a bit after a shower and a clean change of clothes, had laughed at the gift Maria had left for Ellie. She had to explain to the girl how the menstrual cup worked, the humor of it quickly rolling over into sorrow when she realized that she herself hadn’t needed to worry about that for twenty years, her body too flooded by a constant stream of cortisol. It made sense really, her body knew there was no use trying to create life when the whole world had rolled over in death. A streak of pain shot through her when she saw that Maria was in fact pregnant, followed quickly by a stark anger that she smothered out before it got the better of her.

Joel had skulked off to try to resole his boots, leaving her and Ellie under Maria’s charge. She had offered them both haircuts at her house and while it was nice, to be taken care of, her heart was stinging with the sight of Sarah’s name on that chalkboard. She didn’t know much, but she knew enough for it to be like a slap to the face when she saw it.

Maria had taken Ellie along to a town movie while she had returned to the house they were staying in to get some sleep, and try to shake off that uneasy feeling that had settled in her spine. She finds Joel’s pack in what she supposes is the master bedroom, slipping into the large bed and waiting for the warmth of his body to tangle with hers. They had picked up some habits along the road, falling into something with each other that she knew would never be called anything other than comfort. It was fine, she figured she’d take him anyway that he’d let her have him.

She must have dozed off, because much later she’s startled awake by the sound of shouting coming from down the hall. It sounds like Joel and Ellie, but she still grabs her gun before creeping down the hall towards where all the noise is coming from, light seeping through the crack of the ajar door. She shoulders up against the doorframe, tucking her gun into the waist of her jeans and listening in to the pair’s argument. Her head spins at the information that Joel has asked Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way, the harsh words he spits at the young girl. Ellie shouts back at him.

“Well, what about her, Joel? What’s she gonna do?” Ellie says her name like a broken question and Joel huffs.

“I don’t know. She’s better off without me too. Can do whatever the fuck she wants for all I care.” His words take her breath away, and she doesn’t have time to catch herself before Joel is turning heel and storming out of the room with a slam of the door. He runs straight into her in the hall, grabbing her elbows to steady them. She wrenches out of his grip, stumbling back. His face goes slack at her pained expression.

“How much of that did you hear?” She scoffs, muttering “heard enough” before shuffling back down the hall to grab her pack from the bedroom. She’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Joel is hot on her heels, following her into the bedroom, a hand tugging at his hair in seeming frustration. She wordlessly grabs her pack, shoving her things back into it as he watches her. 

“Will you talk to me?” She lets out a bitter laugh at his words, finally turning and looking at him.

“What the fuck, Joel? What the fuck was that? You making decisions for us now, huh? Think you know better than me? Well newsflash, that was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard!” She’s gotten up in his space and shoves hard at his chest, making him stumble back.

“Look, you may be mad right now. But eventually you’ll see that I’m right about this. I-I can’t protect her. Can’t protect you, it’s–” “That’s such bullshit. I don’t need protection, Joel. And maybe you can’t protect her, but we can. Did a damn good job of it these past few months. God, but now you’re gonna be a fucking coward?” She thinks briefly that she sees the glimmer of tears in his eyes, but she’s too mad to care. She shoulders her pack, going to step out of the room, but he blocks her path. He swallows hard under her steely glare.

“I’m sorry, but I–” she shoves at his chest again.

“I don’t want your fucking sorrys! Finish the job, you coward, or get the fuck out of my way.” She finally shoulders past him, and he doesn’t follow her this time. He seems to have made his choice, and she’ll have to live with that.

…

She spends the night, restlessly, on the couch downstairs, waiting for Tommy to come pick up her and Ellie. She’ll go with them to the university, it hadn’t even been a question to her. And after that, well she certainly won’t be coming back here, back to Joel. 

She manages to sleep a few hours, woken up by the sound of Tommy coming inside. He waits at the front door while she goes up to get Ellie. She’s surprised when she passes the master bedroom to see the door ajar, Joel and his pack nowhere to be seen. That bastard must have skipped town. Good fucking riddance.

They head out to the stables and she’s once again surprised when they find Joel there, saddling up. He’s changed his tune, and when Ellie says she wants to go with him, already foisting her pack into his arms, he tries to catch her gaze over the top of the girl’s head, but she refuses to look at him. She promised Tess she’d finish this job, and she’s going to, regardless of whom it’s finished with. But whatever closeness she had with Joel has withered in the course of the night. She decides that this will be the last time she works with him.

The trio sets out, Joel and Ellie on one horse and her following close behind on another. A week’s journey, and then she’ll never have to think about Joel Miller again.

Days pass in a frozen blur. It’s not lost on her how their roles have been switched. In the past, it was always her job to keep Ellie’s constant conversation entertained while Joel silently scowled. Now, Joel keeps up the talk, occasionally trying to draw her into the chatter, but she remains steeled against his attempts to get her to thaw, only answering the questions Ellie asks her. She knows it’s dangerous, how much she’s come to care for the girl. It was Joel who had told her as much, that the price for caring about someone was one you just couldn’t afford in this world. She figures it’s too late to pull back from her, having already sacrificed so much to get her across the country, because she knows she’d do a whole lot more for her too.

When they reach the university campus, it’s a relief and a shock. The last time she had been somewhere like this was when everything went to shit. Like every other survivor, she remembers the day all too well. She woke up that morning in her boyfriend’s dorm room, and by the end of the day she was getting hauled to a quarantine zone in the back of a military truck. 

She’s quiet as they ride through the campus, but can feel Joel’s eyes on her as he answers Ellie’s endless questions about what college was like. His voice is a bit gruff when he next speaks.

“You should be asking these questions to her, kid. She was actually smart enough to be somewhere like this.” She can’t help how her eyes widen at his words and when she glances at him, she thinks she sees the hint of a smirk there. Ellie immediately shifts her attention to her, asking her all sorts of questions about what she did at a place like this. For once, she’s happy to talk about the past. She feels the anger she’s been keeping bubbling start to roll over, finding ease in rejoining the conversation, but she still keeps her attention on Ellie, only barely glancing Joel’s way.

The campus is desolate and when they find what must have been the science building with a golden firefly emblem on above the entrance, disappointment lays thickly over them when they see it’s been deserted. On the third floor, however, they manage to find a map, with all arrows leading to Salt Lake City. They must have moved shop. Joel looks at her, both their faces set in a stern resolve. This trip is going to be a bit longer than they planned. Just then, they hear voices coming from below. She sidles up to the window and sure enough, a group of raiders are traipsing across the campus. Joel looks at her and she just nods, a silent confirmation that they need to move quickly and quietly. 

They get outside, and she tries to clear her mind of the way he keeps a hand on the hilt of her spine as she peers behind the wall. It’s clear, and they scurry over to the horses, trying to hastily saddle up. Ellie freezes where she stands, looking behind them. She whips around and sure enough, two of the men they had seen are rushing at them. She doesn’t even have to think, pulling out her knife and running at them. She handily slits the one man’s throat, but the other grabs her shoulder and lands a punch that sends her jaw singing in pain.  She doubles over, trying to shake off the ringing in her ears. Joel’s right behind her and grabs hold of the man, struggling a bit before snapping his neck. The sound makes her stomach churn.

When she finally collects herself and gets a look at Joel, she blanches. He’s been stabbed low in the side, the handle of the weapon protruding still. Joel looks down, seeming to realize at the same time that he’s been hurt. She doesn’t think quick enough to stop him from pulling it out, and when he does blood quickly begins to puddle in his cupped hand. Her mind is going a mile a minute, but Ellie shakes her out of it with a low curse. There are two more men coming towards them. She has to get them out of here and fast.

“Ellie, get on that horse, now!” She grabs Joel by the shoulders, shoving him towards the other horse and helping him up. He lets out a broken shout as he swings his leg over the saddle and it sends a streak of panic down her spine. She hauls herself up behind him, taking the reins and kicking off. Ellie follows alongside them, firing warning bullets at the straggling men. 

They manage to lose them, following train tracks out of the town and in the general direction of Salt Lake City. She keeps pinching Joel’s thigh, trying to keep him awake, keep him talking. But he’s fading fast, and she doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, his head slumps forward and she curses.

“Joel? Hey, Joel, c’mon, stay with us here– shit!” His body goes slack and he slips right off the horse into the drifting snow. She immediately dismounts, Ellie following suit, and kneels down beside him. His eyes are flickering, rolling back up to the sky. She presses the heel of her hand down into his wound, trying to stop the bleeding that has persisted since they fled. He whimpers under the contact and it makes something in her shatter. Ellie is calling his name, lightly patting his face. But it’s not enough, and he slips unconscious, his face ashen in the gray winter light.

“Fuck!” For a moment, she just panics. No clue what to do. Her hands are shaking as she quickly shucks off her coat, Ellie watching her like she’s crazy. She takes off the flannel she had been wearing and rips it up into strips, tying them together and then wrapping the makeshift tourniquet around Joel’s wound. She doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but right now, it’s the only thing she can think to do. She takes a deep breath, a wisp of a plan slowly coming into mind.

“Alright, Ellie, we gotta get him back on one of the horses. We gotta find shelter.” Ellie looks bewildered by her command.

“He’s not gonna make it if we–”

“Don’t, kid. It’s the only shot we have. Help me move him.” It’s a struggle, getting his slack body back up onto the saddle, but they manage and she slips up behind him again. She wraps her legs around his to keep him in place. The only comfort as they ride is the short puffs of breath she feels him letting out into her collar where his head has slumped down. As long as he’s breathing, I can be ok.

She was never religious, not before, and certainly not now. But, as they continue riding, she starts to pray to someone, anyone. She knows that Joel would’ve told her to leave him. Would’ve wanted her to leave him. But now, it’s become quite clear to her that leaving him is something she’s incapable of doing.

His breathing is getting slower, even more shallow. She counts the space between each exhale and feels panic rising as that space gets longer and longer. They need a fucking miracle.

They get a fucking miracle. 

A farmhouse appears in the distance, in a thicket of frozen trees. She can see smoke coming from the chimney. She’s too panicked to make any real plan, telling Ellie to hold back while she rides up. She doesn’t care if the people are hostile, she’ll kill them with her bare hands if it means Joel will have a shot at surviving.

She stops right in front of the house, and it’s a rather awkward maneuver to slide Joel off the saddle and lay him out in the snow while she sidles up to the front door. She cocks her gun and shoulders through the door, and finds herself both relieved and embarrassed when all she meets is a rather shocked looking older woman standing by a wood-burning stove.

A fucking miracle indeed.

…

The woman’s name is Maggie. She tells her to bring Ellie and Joel in. They lay him out on the musty couch in front of the stove and Maggie immediately takes to treating his wound. She moves with an unexpected precision, getting Joel out of his jacket and layers, cleaning the gash with rags that they boiled on the stove and then taking to the wound with bandages she pulled out of a rusted first aid box. Joel remains unconscious, but color starts to come back into his face as he lays in the warmth of the stove. Maggie offers soup to her and Ellie, but her stomach is still rolling as she watches Joel’s unconscious form so she gives her bowl to the girl as well. 

She sits on the arm of the couch, keeping a hand around Joel’s ankle as Maggie talks to them. She tells them that her husband’s name is Rod, that he’s out hunting and he’ll be home soon, but that she’ll deal with him. She can’t help but think that they’re much like that couple they had met only a week or so earlier, another pair that lived quietly enough for the end of the world not to notice them. The older woman seems to sense the tension in the air, seeing both her and Ellie still anxiously watching Joel. She asks Ellie if she’d like to help her dress a few rabbits out back and the girl’s eyes dart between the older woman and her. She offers her a small smile and a nod to go ahead, that it’s ok, and Maggie leads her out to show her how it's done.

As the door shuts behind them, she lets out a long sigh, sinking down onto the floor and resting her head back against the couch. She shuts her eyes, a wave of exhaustion finally washing over her now that the adrenaline has worn off. Her brain kicks up a chant of he’s ok, he’ll live that lulls her into a sleepy daze, only being startled out of it when she feels him start to stir behind her. She whips around, kneeling in front of the couch, her fingers itching to reach for him, but instead just watching as he slowly comes to. He looks shocked to still be alive, eyes darting around the room before landing on her. He goes to sit up but immediately winces in pain and she presses her palm into his chest to keep him laying down.

“Joel, just stay down. You’re ok. I’ll get you some water.” She grabs her own water bottle that Maggie had filled for her and brings it to his lips, coaxing a few sips out of him. He’s looking at her like she’s grown a second head, entirely perplexed. His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

“You should’ve left me.” She scoffs, shaking her head and forcing him to take another swig to shut him up.

“A thank you would be nice.” He only gives her a steely scowl at her words that she just rolls her eyes at.

“Joel, can you try to not be an asshole after we just saved your life?” She gets up to get him a bowl of soup but can still hear his grumbling words.

“Surprised you’d want to save my life. Thought you’d washed your hands of me.” She sighs, choosing not to respond to his murmurs as she kneels back down beside the couch with soup and a spoon. He raises an eyebrow at her. She gives him an unamused look, holding a spoonful of soup out to him that he begrudgingly takes. Surprisingly, he lets her feed him more of the soup, not moving his utterly confused gaze from her face. She thinks to herself that he must still be pretty out of it to be letting her do this.

He finally bats her hands away with a grumble, once again trying to sit up. Though he successfully gets upright, swinging his legs down so his feet are planted on the floor, it’s not without groans of pain with each movement, his bare chest heaving once he finally sits back. She instinctively goes to smooth her hand over the gauze they laid over his wound and he shivers under her touch, her eyes immediately darting up to his.

“Does that hurt?” He huffs, grabbing her hand in his own and giving it a squeeze before resting their entwined fingers on his thigh.

“Sure don’t feel good. Where’s Ellie?” Just then, the back door swings open, Ellie walking in ahead of Maggie, brandishing two dressed rabbit carcasses in her hands. When she sees Joel upright and lucid, first relief washes over her face, and then a very smug grin. She holds up the rabbits like shining trophies.

“Welcome back, old man. Told ya I could do it.”

…

Rod comes home soon afterwards, and while it’s tense at first, it’s clear quickly that he answers to Maggie, and what she says goes. They sit in the main room of the cabin, the three of them pressed together on the couch while the couple sit in two thread-bare armchairs, asking them all kinds of questions. Rod keeps looking between her and Joel and then glancing at Ellie, seeming to try to figure something out. He finally clears his throat.

“You don’t often see families out on the road, where are y’all heading?” Her and Joel practically trip over each other to correct him, speaking on top of each other.

“We’re not–”

“That’s not what this is–”

Ellie just laughs, telling the old man that they’re not her parents, just two people getting paid to transport her to her real family. She’ll have to thank the kid later for the smooth save. The couple seem to accept her explanation, but Rod continues to look between her and Joel over the top of Ellie’s head. It’s only just starting to make her uneasy when Maggie invites her and Ellie to help get dinner going. They leave Joel and Rod lowly murmuring about directions to Salt Lake City. 

As she chops potatoes, listening to Maggie explain to Ellie how to carve up the rabbits, she gets that same sickening feeling she got in Jackson. For a moment, there’s a sliver of normalcy that makes her shudder. They roast the vegetables and meat over a fire that Maggie sets on a small stovetop. She leans back against the doorframe, watching the older woman show Ellie how to cook the food. Her ears prick into the conversation in the other room, Rod saying something in a rather severe tone.

“Son, you do realize that young woman saved your life, right?” There’s a long hiccup of silence before Joel speaks.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Believe me, I know. Saved me in more ways than one.” She’s not given too much time to ponder his words before Maggie and Ellie are whipping by with a huge skillet of food. They all eat in the living room, serving themselves straight out of the pan. She’s surprised by how hungry she is, though she figures it’s been nearly a whole day since she last ate. 

Finished with dinner, she asks Maggie for the first aid kit, taking Joel out to catch the last light of day in order to redress his wound. The old couple had offered to teach Ellie how to play gin while she takes care of him. He sits down on the bench out on the porch, already moving much better with some more food in his system. 

Relief floods through her when she removes the gauze and sees that the gash is already starting to clot, hardly any more blood coming through and the angry redness calming under the salve Maggie had rubbed in. She kneels down in between his thighs, trying to as gently as possible clean the wound as he stifles whimpers under her touch. She lays another square of gauze over the wound, letting her palm wander up his side before squeezing his shoulder and sitting back on her haunches. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Thank you, alright? Thank you.” She just nods, but Joel isn’t done talking.

“I figure we sleep here tonight. Rod showed me how to keep following those tracks to get to Salt Lake, we’re looking at three, maybe four days of travel.” Her head is spinning, not really believing his words.

“Are you serious right now? Joel, I don’t know if you noticed, but you almost fucking died. You’re not gonna be ready to travel tomorrow, and hell, probably not the next day either. Maggie told me they’d let us stay on a bit longer, if Ellie and I help her out with stuff around here. But you’re not fucking traveling anytime soon, not on my watch.” His fists are clenched in his lap as he listens to her speak, finally shaking his head in frustration.

“Look, I just need some sleep. I’ll be good to travel in the morning, you don’t know–” She’s on him in a flash, standing up to tower over him, right in his face.

“Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m sick of you trying to call all the shots, Joel. This time? You’re gonna listen to me.” He tilts his chin up at her defiantly.

“And why should I?” She practically seethes with anger.

“Because I saved your life, that’s why. Don’t make me fucking regret it.” She whisks away from him, storming back inside and slamming the door behind her. She finds Ellie and the couple playing cards and mutters at the girl to go help Joel inside. She’s done playing nurse for the night.

Unfortunately, Maggie and Rod had different plans. When it came time to turn in, they offered the couch to Ellie, while giving her and Joel the loft upstairs. The loft with only one bed. She did her best not to balk at it, not wanting to seem ungrateful to the couple as they closed their own bedroom door after saying good night. 

She mutely helped Joel up the stairs, guiding him to sit down on the edge of the bed while she got to work unrolling her sleeping bag onto the floor. She heard him scoff behind her as he watched her movements.

“What the hell are you doing?” She glances at him over her shoulder.

“I’ll take the floor and you’ll take the bed. You need it more than I do.” He lets out a breathy laugh at that.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.” She finally turns to fix him with an icy stare. He just crosses his arms over his chest.

“Joel, don’t. I can’t argue with you anymore.” She sighs, fully sitting down on the ground, staring at her hands in her lap. She’s got no fight left.

“I don’t want to argue, but I don’t want you sleeping on the floor. Please.” Her head whips up at that, a word that doesn’t usually come out of Joel’s mouth. There’s something in his eyes that she can’t quite place. Something that makes her give in to him. She stands with another sigh, starting to toe off her boots.

“Alright, fine. We’ll both sleep in the bed.” She’d like to smack the smug look that slides across his face, but it’s quickly replaced by winces of pain as he moves to take off his shoes and pants. She helps him shuck off his jeans all the way, ignoring his grumbles that he can do it himself, and helps him under the covers. She quickly peels off her own jeans before getting into bed, hugging the edge of the mattress and turning her back to him. He huffs behind her.

“Not how we normally sleep, is it?” She scoffs at his words.

“You’re injured. And I’m still pissed at you.” 

“Look, I-I’m sorry.” “What for?”

“Jesus christ, can’t you take a damn apology?” She chooses not to respond to that and Joel sighs.

“I’m sorry for what I did in Jackson. For not talking to you. Trying to cut ties. I just, I really thought it’d be better for everyone.” She swallows thickly.

“Well, I don’t get that. I thought we had a good thing going, thought we were a team.”

“We did have a good thing. It’s why I was trying to set you two loose from me. I’m getting older, weaker. A-and the price was getting too high.” She finally turns over, looking at him with her brow furrowed. He glances at her before letting out another sigh.

“I care about you, more than I should. I care about the kid too, but you– if I ever failed you? Out there? That’d be the end for me. I know I couldn’t go on then. So I figured it’d be better to let you go, without me, no chance of letting you down then.” They fall into a heavy silence as she studies his profile. Those were not words she was expecting to hear out of him.

“Joel, I– the price is high for me too. Think I realized it when you collapsed off that fucking horse. But sometimes I feel like you don’t take me seriously, and it drives me insane. I may be younger than you, but I’ve been out here just as long as you.” He draws one of his hands down to tangle with hers.

“I know you have, darlin. And I’m sorry. I’m an ass, but I’ll listen to you, I’ll really try.” She squeezes his hand.

“We’re a fucking team, Joel. I need you on my side.” His eyes soften in the dimming light.

“Fuck, need you too.” For now, it’s enough for them both. They manage to sleep that night, neither one letting go of the other’s hand.

…

They’ve spent three nights at the farmhouse, and Joel continues to heal. Ellie and Maggie are sitting on the porch, playing gin. Ellie has gotten wickedly good at the game, even giving Rod a run for his money. She’s out front, helping the old man and Joel chop firewood. She’s just glad that Joel feels well enough to be swinging an ax, but would be hard pressed to admit that her gaze lingers on the sliver of skin above his waistband that slips into sight each time he throws his arms back in a swing. 

It’s been decided that they’ll leave tomorrow and start the journey towards Salt Lake City and whatever it may entail. As such, Maggie had declared that they’d need to have a proper meal tonight, like she hadn’t been feeding them like kings all week. Rod had brought a deer back from his hunting yesterday, and Ellie had, very proudly, helped him dress the carcass. They’d certainly eat well tonight.

She and Joel had settled into a sort of closeness again, something more tentative, something heavier with meaning. They hadn’t really discussed what had been said that first night any further, but each night since they’d fallen asleep pressed close to one another. She had however noticed the way his breath would hitch as she checked his bandages, and had maybe started to trail her fingers a bit aimlessly just to see how worked up she could get him before cruelly stepping away. He was due for some payback anyways.

Dinner, as expected, is rich and near coma-inducing, and Ellie promptly flops onto the couch face first. She and Joel help the old couple clean up before saying their goodnights. Joel no longer needs help up the stairs when they head up for bed, he hasn’t for two days now.

They dress down in silence before slipping under the covers, settling into the middle of the bed. She rests a leg over his hip, turning into his chest as he wraps her into his non-injured side. He looks down at her.

“You ready to head out tomorrow?” She snorts, burrowing her cheek closer into his chest.

“Pretty sure I should be asking you that.”  His arm draws her in a little tighter.

“I am. Almost back to a hundred percent, thanks to you.” They settle into a simple silence. She breaks it with a hoarse whisper.

“Joel? You gotta know how glad I am that you’re not dead.” He just hums at that, but she tilts her head to rest her chin on his sternum, looking up at him.

“I mean it. Christ– when you were splayed out in the snow– I panicked– didn’t know what to do– just knew that you couldn’t die or I’d lose whatever is left of my mind.” He brings his fingertips to skate across the arc of her cheek, carding his fingers through her hair before pressing his thumb under the hilt of her jaw to draw her face up to his. It’s a shivering little thing of a kiss, their lips just ghosting together before breaking away. It’s a low thrumming whisper that breezes across her lips when he speaks.

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere, darlin, not without you.” She presses forward this time into an entirely different kind of kiss. It’s a kiss that takes and demands that something be given. He brings both his broad palms to cup her face and she huffs as she tries to press closer to him without hurting him. He seems to notice her frustration, pressing her to lay down as he shifts to lean on his good side and dip back into a kiss. She pulls away with a sigh.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, not when you’re healing so well.” He huffs, tracing her lips with his thumb.

“You’re not gonna hurt me. Just let me have you.” She can’t even protest, not when he’s already licking into her mouth and fumbling with the buttons of the flannel she still has on. She swats his hand away to get the shirt off herself and he moves his now idle hand down to her hip, giving the plush swell harsh squeezes and drawing her closer to him. Her shirt draws open and he nudges away the fabric with his nose, lips smearing across her chest and laving over her peaked nipples in a way that makes her keen up into his touch. She runs her hands easily through the buttons of his own shirt, laying open-mouthed kisses in the middle of his chest. They’re a mess of mouths and hands and sighing breaths, finding whatever bare skin they can to mark as their own. She lets out a whine that he quickly shushes as he bites harshly at the soft skin at the juncture of her jaw.

“Joel, please, I want you now.” They press their foreheads together for a moment, swallowing each other’s ragged breaths before Joel nods. He shifts until he’s hovering over her, kneeling between her spread legs and caging her in between his arms. 

She presses the sleeves of his open shirt down his arms and he breaks away just enough to shrug it off entirely. She takes him in, fingers grazing down his chest and skating over the bandage across his side before he grabs her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips and laying a kiss in the middle of her palm. He brings his own palm down between her breasts, rough fingers splayed out below her sternum before dragging his hand down her torso in a way that makes her shudder. His fingers deftly slip under the band of her underwear and he doesn’t even have to ask her to lift her hips for him to slide them down her legs, tossing them off to the side before dipping back down to meet in another kiss. 

Still in his boxers, he presses his hips forward into hers and they both groan at the contact as his hardness ruts against her center. She tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t fucking tease me right now, Joel. Need you.” He shushes her with a smacking kiss.

“I know what you need, I’ve got you. I’m yours, I’m all yours.” She draws her hands down to the waist of his boxers, shrugging them down his thighs just enough for his cock to come free and rest against her hip, smearing pre-cum across her skin. They move fluidly. She draws her knee up to his waist, opening herself up for him as he fists himself and draws the head of his cock through her folds before pressing into her. They both let out broken sighs when his hips press against hers. The roll of his hips is slow but harsh as he finds a pace in his thrusts. He dips his head into her collarbone, muffling his groans into her damp skin as she rakes her nails down his back. She’s entirely wrapped up in him, whispering little gasps of his name each time he presses impossibly deeper into her. Suddenly, he takes in a sharp inhale that sounds less like pleasure and more like pain, she draws his face out of her neck and can see the wince in his eyes. Panic seeps into her spine.

“Hey, hey. Is it hurting?” He sighs, trying to ignore her searching gaze but she presses a palm into his chest to stop him.

“Baby. Lay back, ok? Wanna make it feel good for you.” He sighs, but does what she says, untangling from her and laying down. She carefully straddles him, the wet heat of her cunt dripping over the throbbing underside of his cock. She leans in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“S’ok, Joel. I’m gonna make you feel good.” He brings his hands to the swell of her hips, fingers flexing into her dimpled skin as she lines his cock up with her entrance, stifling a moan as she takes him all to the hilt. Joel’s eyes are darting everywhere as she sets a gentle rhythm, the crease of pleasure between her brows, the golden dampness in the hollow of her collarbone, the obscene bounce of her breasts with each swivel of her hips. All he can do is sigh.

“You’re perfect, darlin. So perfect for me. You’re mine, right? Fuck– tell me you’re mine.” He presses his palm between her shoulder blades to press her forward and she hovers over him, brushing her lips over his in something far too messy to be called a kiss.

“I’m yours, Joel. All yours.” He bends his knees and plants his feet into the mattress, starting to meet her weakening thrusts with his own. She can feel herself at the edge of pleasure, ready to tip over into oblivion. She buries her face into his neck as he fucks up into her, letting out broken whimpers with each thrust.

“Need you to come for me, darlin. Know you can do it. Let go for me.” His words send her hurtling right over the edge, pulsing around his cock as she comes with a silent cry. He fucks her through it, his thrusts starting to falter as he feels his release creeping up on him. She reluctantly pulls off of him, nuzzling into his side and bringing her hand to wrap around his throbbing length. She brings her lips to his ear.

“Come for me, Joel. Show me you’re mine.” With one more pass of her fist he’s painting his stomach with his spend, letting out ragged whispers of her name as he comes. They lay entangled for a moment, but she’s quick to check his bandage.

“Was that too much? Are you ok?” He lets out a whisper of a laugh, brushing her hair out of her face and looking at her in a way she hasn’t seen before. His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

“I’m fucking perfect, darlin.” It makes her laugh, and she dips her head to press a kiss into his collarbone before getting up to find something to clean them up with.

They settle back into bed after getting cleaned up. He falls asleep before her, with her temple pressed right over his heart. She knows that it’s all hers, and that she’s all his, no matter the price.