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punkshort · 2 months ago

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Swept Away | Chapter 7: Making Waves

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel receives some exciting news, meanwhile you're having one of the worst nights of your life.

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, alcohol and food consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, physical violence against reader (not Joel), verbal abuse towards reader, blood/bruising related to an injury, feral Joel came to play, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 10K (yikes)

Series Masterlist

Everything was the same it always was, but somehow also different.

Admittedly, the morning following the art gallery you awoke terrified Joel would ice you out again. You stayed in bed as long as you could, texting Celine just to avoid the inevitable heartbreak, but much to your surprise you heard a knock on your door around ten in the morning.

"Hey," Joel peeked his head into your room and you dropped your phone to your mattress. "You okay? You don't usually sleep this late."

"Yeah," you replied, voice still thick with sleep so you cleared your throat. "Just, uh, taking it easy and..." you trailed off and dropped your gaze to the floor.

"Avoidin' me?"

Your eyes snapped up just to find him leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed and a teasing smirk on his face.

"Maybe," you whispered, plucking nervously at your comforter. He pushed off the wall and walked over to your side of the bed, then reached out to tame some of the hair around your ear.

"Gonna give me a taste and take it away, that it?"

Your cheeks felt hot and the butterflies in your stomach stirred to life, but you managed to shake your head and hold his gaze. "N-no. I just thought you might've regretted it again."

He sighed and he stopped playing with your hair so he could cup your cheek. "I never regretted it," he told you softly, then leaned down to press a tender kiss against your lips. "Not then and not now," he added before pulling away, leaving you breathless. "Now c'mon, your breakfast is gettin' cold," he said when he turned to walk out of your room.

And that was all that was ever said on the subject.

Now, a handful of days later, everything was business as usual. You still slept in your separate rooms and you went to restaurants together but the air around you was different. It felt charged whenever you were together. A lingering glance here, a gentle touch there reminded you something had definitely changed. Something that went unlabeled and unspoken and you didn't dare try. As much as you wished to take things further and try to get Joel to open up more, you refrained because you could sense he was growing impatient with Glenn and you didn't want to sour his mood even more.

He was running out of time and Joel told you he needed to step things up. So far, Glenn had avoided talking much business and spent most of the time just getting to know everyone better. Joel never pushed him. He saw how Glenn reacted when Zachary or Harry tried to bring up business and it wasn't good, so he bided his time and waited. But now he was feeling the pressure.

"Can't just spend an entire fuckin' month here for nothin'," he grumbled one afternoon as he paced around the hotel. You watched him from your spot on the sofa, still clad in your bikini from spending time by the pool that morning.

You chewed your lip nervously, his anxious energy transferring to you. "How important is it that you win?"

His eyes flickered over to yours and scoffed. "Real fuckin' important. If I get this spot, The Parador would become a household name. The revenue stream from this spot alone would be higher than all my other hotels combined. It would open up a whole new world of opportunities for my business."

Joel rolled his shoulder like he was trying to work out a tight muscle and you pursed your lips. Maybe you just hadn't given it much thought, but it sounded like a much bigger deal than you originally imagined.

"It's about exclusivity," Joel continued, "there's only so much space on this island. Only the best of the best build here, and the world fuckin' knows it. It's why they want to travel to this particular island - they want to experience a level of comfort and luxury they've never known before in the most beautiful place in the world."

"Well, did he say when he was going to make a decision?"

"Said by the end of the trip but no one's even had a chance to give 'em their sales pitch yet," he said, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Maybe he doesn't need the sales pitch," you said, picking up your phone. He stopped pacing and eyed you up.

"What'dya mean?"

You let your phone hang limply in your hand and you looked back up at him.

"Well, he knows what you're all about. He knows what kind of hotels all of you run and how successful you are. He doesn't care what your vision is or what will make your hotel different. But what he does care about is this island."

Joel frowned and slowly sunk into the couch opposite you.

"What else?"

Your lips turned downward and shrugged. "He cares about this island and its people. He wants to make sure the person he picks for this land will respect it and the people who live here. I mean, think about it. Guy could live anywhere but he built a huge mansion right here. His kids live here. His daughter is dedicating her career to helping local artists find success. He loves it here, Joel. He just wants someone who will love it back."

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable until he abruptly stood and in two long strides, closed the distance between you. He grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you up for a deep kiss, the suddenness of it stopping you from responding right away. Just when your brain caught up and your lips began to massage his, he pulled away with a huge smile.

"You're so fuckin' smart, y'know that? Jesus Christ, why didn't I see that?"

You grinned, trying to hide the pleased look on your face by shaking your head and turning away.

"What can I say? I have my moments," you shrugged when you sat back down on the couch. "Guess you got more than you bargained for with me," you added with a laugh.

"Oh, I knew that already," Joel said with a wink. Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your phone with a stupid smile stretched across your face. It was moments like those when you heard the voice inside your head scream at you to ask the obvious question: what did you mean to him?

He kissed you like you were his girlfriend, but he never invited you into his bedroom. He had said he wanted more, but had yet to try. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You had been practically throwing yourself at him for the past week, there was no way you were going to do that again.

Joel had dialed someone who worked for him, completely oblivious to the confusion swirling around in your head. Instead, he was excitedly conveying the breakthrough you had about Glenn to the man on the other end and began to talk strategy. Already feeling bored, you decided to get up and go take a shower so you were ready for dinner, but as you were walking back towards your bedroom, you heard Joel say quietly into his phone, "No, I didn't even think of it. My girl did."

My girl.

Oh, you could get used to that.

"Aren't you bored as hell when Joel runs off to hang with the guys?" Zoe asked over dinner. Ironically, you had picked the same restaurant as Lynne and Tammy, who also invited Ian, for dinner. You didn't know Ian very well but from the look of it, he seemed to be caught in the middle. He tossed a few glances your way and gave you each friendly smiles, but Lynne and Tammy ignored you completely. However, based on their body language, you had a strong feeling they were most definitely talking about the two of you.

"Sometimes," you admitted. You shot the waiter a smile when he placed two drinks on the table. You each quickly grabbed them, clinking your glasses together before taking a long sip.

"Well, only one more week and then you'll have him all to yourself again, lucky girl," she said with a flirty wink. You thought you responded but you couldn't be sure because she had unexpectedly knocked you sideways. One more week? Christ, where did the time go? And what would happen between you and Joel when you got back home? Would he really just pay you and disappear from your life forever? The thought made you sick to your stomach and you had to put your drink down.

"You okay?" Zoe asked, furrowing her brows. "You look a little queasy."

"No, I'm fine," you said quickly, waving her off. "Just hungry."

"Sure you're not pregnant?" she teased. You laughed and pointed to your drink.

"Would be a little irresponsible of me, wouldn't it?"

You were so grateful for Zoe. She was a safe place when you were feeling lonely or insecure and it made you sad you wouldn't be able to keep in touch once the trip was over. How could you? If you did, she would eventually figure out you were hired, just like she was, to accompany Joel to the island.

Maybe it was the two devastating reality checks in a row but you had a hard time snapping out of your funk. You tried, you really did, but you couldn't stop thinking about losing Joel and Zoe so soon. It didn't help matters when she got a text from Zachary telling her the night with Glenn on his boat was going long and not to bother staying up.

She sighed with relief and flicked her hair over her shoulder before glancing around the dining room, murmuring to you about how she could use a night off while you just stared down at your phone, waiting for a similar text from Joel.

Nothing.

My girl.

You took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the insecurity, but it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Why was it always so difficult with Joel? Why did it always feel like whenever you took one step forward, you take two steps back? Did he even like you? You thought he did, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe he was just treating you like a sugar baby this whole time and you stupidly thought -

Your phone buzzed on the table and when you saw Joel's name pop up, relief instantly swept through you and all your nagging self-doubt faded away.

Going to be late, sweetheart. I'm sorry but I got a good feeling - finally getting somewhere with Glenn

You smiled, despite not being able to see him the rest of the night, he thought enough to text you and he called you sweetheart.

Right when you were about to reply, he texted you again.

I'll make it up to you ;)

You must have looked flustered because Zoe cleared her throat and quirked an eyebrow at you when you finally tore your eyes away from your phone.

"Do you have something to share with the class?"

You shook your head and tried to hide your smile behind your hand but failed. Still, Zoe peered curiously across the table and read Joel's last text upside down. She gave you a jealous pout and sat back in her chair.

"Not fair. You're so lucky," she sighed. "I think once Zachary and I are done, I'm going to quit."

"What?!" you quietly exclaimed. She nodded and shrugged.

"I'm done with it. It was fun, I got to travel a lot, have nice things and meet cool people but I need to think about my future, you know? And there's, like, a zero percent fucking chance I'll meet the love of my life being a sugar baby."

You nodded, struggling to figure out what to do with a sharp pang in your chest. Was it so impossible to think anything serious could come from a relationship with a sugar daddy? Luckily, Zoe continued.

"I look at you guys and I'm just reminded of what I could have, y'know? All I want is a guy who looks at me the way Joel looks at you."

Jesus Christ, Zoe was shaking you up and she didn't even know it.

"H-how does he look at me?"

Zoe rolled her eyes at you before saying, "C'mon, you know. He can't keep his eyes off you. He's so fucking into you, it's sick."

You laughed at that, a sharp little bark of disbelief, but then quickly corrected yourself. You had to change the subject, your emotions were splintering and you were desperate to talk about something lighter, but before you did, you sent Joel a text.

Can't wait ;)

Shoving your phone back into your purse, you turned your attention back to Zoe, frowning when you saw the sour look on her face as she finished her drink.

"What?"

She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "Don't turn around but Trevor and Brooks are at the bar."

Your stomach twisted into knots and you took another drink, grateful to see your food arriving if just for the distraction alone.

"Wonder why they aren't on the boat with everyone else," you mumbled before stabbing a piece of pasta with your fork.

"I heard Brooks didn't want to go and Glenn sent Trevor to keep an eye on him," Zoe told you mischievously.

"How the hell do you hear all this gossip?" you asked after you wiped the shocked look off your face. Zoe giggled and swallowed a bite of her salmon.

"I get bored, I eavesdrop."

"Damn, either Joel doesn't hear this stuff or he doesn't care because the only phone calls I hear from him are work calls," you said before offering her a bite of your dish. She eagerly accepted and gave you some salmon in return. "Wonder why Glenn thought Brooks needed a babysitter," you said after another moment.

Zoe put her fork down and gave you a look that told you she knew way more than she should, so you mimicked her and set your fork down as well to give her your full attention.

"I don't think Glenn and Mary trust Brooks to carry on the business once he retires," Zoe said, glancing once over your shoulder at the bar. "I don't know why but that night at Glenn's house, I went to the bathroom and overheard Mary telling Brooks this is your last chance, or something like that."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and slowly leaned back in your seat. So it wasn't just you who thought something was off about him. Then Joel's comment about drug use slipped back into your brain and you were about to tell her but you decided to bite your tongue at the last minute. You trusted Zoe, but you didn't want to betray Joel. So instead, you kept your mouth shut and played dumb.

"That's... crazy," you said, fumbling for words. It didn't seem to bother Zoe because she just nodded and picked up her fork.

"I know, right? Kind of humbling to know Glenn and Mary don't have the perfect little family we all thought."

When the waiter approached, you assumed he was coming to check on your food, but instead he held in his hand a bottle of champagne. "From Mr. Miller with his sincerest apologies," the waiter had said, making you blush when Zoe gave you an incredulous look. As sweet as it was, you really hoped that's not what he meant by 'making it up to you'. After the champagne was poured and the waiter left, placing the bottle on ice first, she pretended to stab your arm with her fork.

"What the hell, girl? Maybe I need to get a front desk job for some billionaire so I can find my own Joel."

You giggled and took a sip from your glass, the bubbles popping on your tongue. It could have been a three hundred dollar bottle of champagne or a ten dollar bottle, it didn't matter to you. The mere fact Joel figured out where you went for dinner and sent something over was astounding to you and you prayed you were reading the signals right.

"I should thank him," you said, pulling your phone back out to send him a quick text.

You didn't need to do that, but thank you :)

In less than a minute, you got your reply.

No need to thank me, baby - enjoy and I'll see you tomorrow

"Looks like your man's little gift caught someone's eye," Zoe said with a grin. You followed her gaze to Tammy and Lynne's table, catching the nasty look they were sending your way before they turned around and you giggled into your palm.

"She's still pissed with me because I almost pulled all her hair out at the art gallery the other night."

Zoe's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"

You laughed and stood up from the table, dropping your napkin on your chair before grabbing your purse. "I'll tell you all about it after I use the restroom."

She made a pained squeak, disgruntled you were leaving her hanging, but you just grinned and stepped away.

"You better be quick!" she shouted after you. Fuck, you were really going to miss hanging out with her.

Despite the looming conclusion to your trip, you were feeling pretty good. At least, in that moment, things felt like they were going well with Joel and you were having a nice time at dinner, even though Tammy had just been staring daggers at you.

The one thing you somehow managed to forget about was Brooks, who unfortunately exited the men's bathroom just as you were searching for the women's room.

"Well, look who it is," Brooks said when he spotted you. You tried to give him a polite smile but you weren't sure you succeeded.

"Oh, hi," was all you said when you tried to squeeze past him. Right as you passed, his hand shot out to grab your arm and you swiveled around.

"You ladies having a nice time?" he asked with a toothy smile. His dark eyes bored into you and if you looked close enough, you could see his pupils were like pinpricks. Then his hand casually swiped against his nostrils and you figured out what he had just been doing in the bathroom.

"Yeah, thanks. This place is nice," you said, taking a subtle step backwards before hooking your thumb over your shoulder. "Excuse me," you added, and before he could say anything else you turned on your heel and headed for the women's room a few feet away, relaxing once you heard the door swing closed behind you.

After you used the bathroom and washed your hands, you were fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror, your thoughts back on Joel, mind wandering to what exactly he meant by I'll make it up to you later when the door flung open. You hardly had a chance to process what was happening until Brooks locked the door and turned on you, sending a hot jolt of fear through your entire body.

"Listen, I'm gonna be straight up with you," he said, pinching the tip of his nose. His eyes looked a little red in the bright lighting of the bathroom and you could see beads of sweat collecting at his temples. You tried to create more room but your back was already pressed against the sink: you had nowhere to go.

"I know what your deal is," he told you, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I know you're only into that old fuck for his money but I can promise you, I'm about to have double what he's got."

You blinked slowly, struggling to keep your breathing even. Your entire body was rigid, muscles tense and straining under your skin, and your heart was pounding so loudly, you could feel it in your ears. How could he possibly know?

"W-what?" you stammered. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brooks's arm darted up from his side to grip the back of your hair too roughly, making you cry out in surprise and grab onto his forearm.

"C'mon, don't play games with me. I know a gold digger when I see one. And that's perfectly fucking fine. I don't care! Mad respect. What I'm trying to tell you is I could give you so much more than him," Brooks told you, taking a step closer so his hips pinned you against the sink. You whimpered and tugged at his wrist but he wouldn't budge. "I got more money and live in fucking paradise, baby," he said, trying to sound seductive as he leaned forward and tugged your earlobe between his teeth, making you recoil in disgust.

"Get off me!" you shouted, shoving him backwards as hard as you could. It worked. He let go of the back of your head when he stumbled away, but unfortunately it only served to piss him off.

"Are you fucking serious?" he seethed, expression turning stormy as he closed the distance between you and grabbed the back of your neck so suddenly, you were too stunned to react. "Do you even realize what I'm offering you, here?"

"I don't care," you said, scratching frantically at the back of his hand, body writhing as you tried to escape. Your engagement ring caught on his skin, tearing it and making him hiss. "I don't want anything to do with you! Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to push him again but he was ready for it that time. He grabbed your wrists with one big hand and yanked your head backwards so your back was arched over the sink. Your eyes filled with tears as you squirmed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail.

"Dumb bitch," he snarled. "You could have someone younger with more money. Thousands of women would jump at this chance but you're too fucking stupid, huh?"

Amidst the tears, anger ripped through you and without even thinking twice, you twisted around in his grasp to sink your teeth into his hand. Brooks inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath, dropping your wrists but keeping a firm hold on the back of your neck. You shoved at him again, over and over, trying your hardest to loosen his grip so you could make a run for it, but you just weren't strong enough. And maybe it was the drugs coursing through his veins or his ego took too big of a hit, but you didn't anticipate what happened next:

He let you go.

At first, you thought someone had stepped in, but when your panicked eyes darted around the room, you found you were still alone. The sudden freedom made you hesitate and it probably wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but later you would wonder if maybe you had reacted faster, it would have saved you alot of hurt and pain.

"Stop fucking shoving me, I'm trying to change your miserable little life," he growled, lunging forward to push your chest with all his might. His strength sent you flying backwards but you managed to catch yourself before you hit the back of your head on the porcelain of the sink. As a result, you twisted around and smacked your mouth on the edge of the vanity. Pain instantly bloomed under your lips and you feebly cupped your mouth, whimpering in agony as blood began to trickle through your fingers.

"Look what you did!" Brooks roared, and by now you could hear Trevor's voice in the hallway. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood and dripping onto the white tile floor. You sobbed into your hands and tried to hide under the sink because at that point, you had no idea what he was capable of doing.

You had squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact of a fist or a foot but thankfully, none came. Had you the courage to open your eyes, you would have seen him come to the sobering realization of what he just did when he saw your blood on the floor. He swiped his hand anxiously over his mouth, eyes darting around the room while you cowered in fear, and slowly backed away towards the door.

"Brooks! Open the goddamn door!" Trevor's voice came from the hallway, his tone quiet to avoid any attention but still laced with anger. He did as his brother asked, shakily undoing the lock and brushing past him, and Trevor glanced into the room before the door shut. His eyes widened and his jaw fell open when he saw the state you were in and rushed inside.

"Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry," he murmured, crouching down next to you. "What can I do? T-tell me what to do!"

"Get ... Zoe," you choked out between sobs. He nodded and backed away slowly, still unable to believe what he was seeing before he rushed down the hallway.

Zoe sprung into action the moment she saw you in the bathroom and you had never felt so grateful for anyone in your life. She got you out of there before anyone could see and ushered you quickly into the waiting car by the curb. It wouldn't be until later that you discovered it was Trevor who ordered the car on standby while Zoe was doing her best to clean you up before getting you out of there. She must have been rattled because her hands were shaking but you never would have known it by the way she spoke and took control.

By the time you got back to the hotel, the sun had set and the lobby was relatively empty. You kept your tear soaked face tilted towards the floor with a napkin pressed against your mouth to stem the bleeding as Zoe led you to the elevators. Once you were in the safety and privacy of your room, you released a haggard sob that was a mix of relief and frustration.

"Let's get you to the bathroom," she said, taking you by the shoulders after kicking both your shoes off in the foyer.

While you were having a decidedly terrible fucking evening, Joel had been having the exact opposite experience on Glenn's boat. Somewhere tucked inside your purse, which was abandoned on the dining room table next to a handful of bloody tissues, your phone lit up with a text from Joel:

Heading back now - hope you're still up bc Glenn pulled me aside 10 min ago and told me he's giving me the fucking land! We gotta celebrate baby

It was late. You never answered his text so he assumed you were in bed, but fuck... maybe he should wake you up.

He got the fucking land.

Glenn didn't announce it yet, but he planned to soon. Joel finally felt like he could relax and maybe enjoy what little time you had left together. He tried not to think too hard about that last part and just focused on the present, like following through with his promise to you.

As he swiped his card through the reader, he smirked to himself, thinking of all the ways he could make things up to you, then froze when he walked into the foyer and saw an unfamiliar pair of high heels by the door. His gaze traveled up and saw all the lights were still on.

That was unusual.

He took a few tentative steps inside, expecting to maybe see you and Zoe by the pool or in the living room, but he was wrong. And it was way too quiet.

He called out your name as he ventured further into the room and then two things happened at once: right as Zoe emerged from the bathroom with a shaken look on her face, Joel saw the pile of bloody tissues next to your purse on the table.

Something was wrong.

His eyes darted up to Zoe's and she held up her hands, palms out, before shakily saying, "There was an accident-"

"Where is she?" he asked. He could feel his throat closing up and his chest beginning to squeeze tight. Fuck, it was hard to breathe.

"She's okay, but she's got a busted lip and -"

Joel tore past Zoe in the blink of an eye, noticing the light on underneath your closed bathroom door. He knocked urgently, saying, "It's me, open up," but you didn't answer. He could feel the anxiety taking hold and flooding his veins with adrenaline. His hands trembled when he knocked again.

"She's a little shook up," Zoe explained from behind him. He dragged his palms nervously over his face and turned to her.

"What happened?"

Zoe opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to answer. "I only got a little bit out of her, but she was attacked in the women's room at the restaurant."

"Attacked?" Joel repeated incredulously. It was so much worse than he thought.

Zoe nodded right when the bathroom door clicked unlocked. You opened it a crack and went back to curl up in the empty spa bath with the pillow and blanket Zoe had brought for you from the living room.

"I can't get her to go lay down in your bedroom," Zoe explained before Joel nodded and pushed the door open. The first thing he saw was the counter filled with bloodied white washcloths and tissues, the sight more than a little horrifying but when he saw your reflection in the mirror, he swiveled around with a jolt.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered, then rushed to the edge of the tub and fell to his knees. He reached out to cup your face; your puffy, swollen, bruised up face.

His eyes never stopped moving. They darted everywhere, taking in every single detail, but mostly lingering on your split lower lip and the bright purple bruise blooming below your eye. His thumb traced gently over your cheek and he felt a sharp twist in his chest when you winced.

"What happened?" he asked you softly.

You sniffled and shook your head but he pinched your chin and made you look him directly in the eye.

"Baby, what happened?" he asked again, "Someone attacked you? Did you call the cops?"

Again, you shook your head then glanced at Zoe over his shoulder.

"Just tell him, babe," she said encouragingly. You sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Promise me you won't get mad," you began, voice thick and gravelly from crying. Joel pinched his eyebrows together and dropped his hand from your chin.

"I ain't gonna be mad at you, sweetheart," he whispered. You watched him swallow and you took a deep breath.

"Brooks cornered me," you finally admitted, tears stinging your tired eyes. "He followed me into the bathroom and locked the door. He - he said some nasty fucking shit and got mad when I told him to leave."

Joel's nostrils flared, his eyes scorching with rage.

"But I pushed him, Joel. I pushed him and so he pushed me back and then I fell into the sink and -"

"Why'd you push him, honey?" he asked, trying to sound calm but you could hear the anger simmering below the surface.

"Because... he kept grabbing me and wouldn't let go. Like, around my neck and hair. He wanted-"

"I know what he wanted," Joel said darkly, pushing himself up to stand then turned to acknowledge Zoe. "Can you stay with her for an hour?"

Zoe nodded and your eyes went wide.

"Joel-"

"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of it."

He stormed out of the bathroom, fists clenched at his sides, trying desperately to contain his anger but his face felt hot and his jaw already ached from how hard he was grinding his teeth.

You scrambled out of the tub, knocking your knee painfully against the porcelain, and raced after him. "Joel! You can't!"

"I'll be back in an hour," was all he said before snatching his wallet from the table and disappearing out into the hall.

"It'll be okay," Zoe said, appearing at your side to rub your back. "Why don't we try to put ice on your lip again?"

You wiped at your nose with the back of your hand and nodded, allowing her to refresh the washcloth with ice and getting you settled on the couch before stepping away to call Zachary to let him know where she was. She had clicked the button on the fireplace remote before she stepped outside to make her call so you stared blankly into the flames while praying Joel didn't do something incredibly stupid.

Joel was gone more than an hour. Zoe sat with you underneath a shared blanket while you watched some mindless television show and iced your face. The bleeding stopped long ago but the pain was beginning to set in, so she got you some ibuprofen and forced you to drink extra water, assuring you it would help.

By the time Joel finally returned, your eyes were beginning to droop but when you heard the door click open, you got a sudden burst of energy.

Sitting up straight and tugging the blanket around your knees, you craned your neck around, waiting for him to appear. He stepped in from the foyer a little disheveled but otherwise seemed fine, but when he locked eyes with you, you knew something happened.

"Thanks, Zoe. I'm sure Zach's worried 'bout you."

His voice was deep and commanding, eyes never leaving yours. She immediately stood, giving you one more hug and whispering in your ear to call if you needed anything, then gathered her things to leave.

You remained planted on the couch, unable to tear your eyes away from the look on Joel's face. When the front door clicked shut, signifying you were finally alone, his shoulders visibly sagged then he marched over to the couch.

Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, blanket and all, and took you down the hall towards your bedroom. Now that you were closer, you could see some red marks on his cheek and neck, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it because to your surprise, Joel turned left instead of right, taking you into his room.

You hardly were ever in his room. The door was always closed when you walked by and your memory was hazy but you remembered it was bigger and he had his own bathroom attached. He carefully set you down on his bed, the side that remained untouched, before disappearing into his bathroom. You took a second to look around the now well lived in room. All around you were pieces of Joel: reading glasses, crumpled pieces of paper and a chapstick on his nightstand, a phone charger dangling from the wall next to his bed, a few articles of clothing were scattered around along with discarded shoes. If it didn't hurt to smile, you would have because you finally learned something new about Joel Miller: he was messy.

"Did you disinfect it?" Joel asked when he stepped back into the room with a wet towel. You slowly shook your head. You and Zoe had been more concerned about stopping the bleeding and then worried about damage to your teeth to really think about disinfectant.

He nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, then beckoned you to come forward. You scooted closer and stretched out your neck, giving him better access to your face. He dabbed carefully at your lip, his eyes stormy while he still fought with the remnants of his adrenaline. When your eyes met, his gaze softened and he slowly dropped his hand to his lap.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, the emotion in his voice bewildering you.

"It's not your fault," you countered, but he shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest.

"Shoulda been there. Been leavin' you alone too much -"

"That's okay, Joel. That's why we're here, right? You need to do whatever it takes to get that land."

His heart sank and he closed his eyes. You obviously still hadn't checked your phone but he didn't bother telling you the news, anyway, because after what he just did to Brooks, he was certain that land was no longer his.

"You oughta get some rest, darlin'," he said softly while standing to head back into his bathroom. He dropped the washcloth into the tub, glancing briefly at his knuckles now that he had stepped out of the darkness of his bedroom. He did a piss poor job cleaning them up but he didn't care. He was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed.

When he came back into the bedroom, he frowned when he saw you with your hand on the doorknob.

"What're you doin'?"

You turned back to him and when he saw your face again, it felt like all the air got knocked out of him.

It's a miracle Joel didn't kill him.

"I'm... going back to my room," you replied, your voice so small and weak that it broke his heart. He shook his head and pointed back to the bed, right where you were sitting.

"Stay," he said, then softened his voice and added, "please."

Your hand dropped to your side immediately and you looked around. "My pajamas-"

"I'll get 'em," he said, pointing to the bed again. "Rest," he told you when he walked across the room, taking you gently by the shoulders and guiding you towards his bed. You did as you were told while he hurried across the hall for your clothes, then stopped at your bathroom for your toothbrush before returning and shutting the door.

You thanked him softly and disappeared into his bathroom to wash up. Joel nervously paced around his room, tossing his dirty clothes into an ever growing pile near the closet before tugging on a white tshirt and slipping into bed.

Shyly, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing a loose fitting cotton tank top and matching shorts. You looked at him and he ushered you forward in the darkness, so you flicked off the bathroom light and scurried into bed.

He couldn't stop himself. He immediately rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you close, breathing in deep the scent of your shampoo and mint from his toothpaste.

You hummed happily and turned onto your side so his chest pressed against your back. The warmth of his arms surrounding you made you finally feel safe and at peace. But then your hand fell to rest on top of his and you froze, your eyes flying open in the pitch black room.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

Your thumb gently brushed over the broken skin on his knuckles, then you sought out his other hand to do the same and your heart stopped.

"What did you do?" you whispered with a tremor to your voice.

He swallowed thickly and buried his face in the back of your neck before responding.

"What I had to."

You had a fitful night's sleep. If you weren't dreaming about a dark pair of eyes screaming horrible things at you in a bathroom, then you were dreaming about the aftermath of whatever Joel did to Brooks. Best case scenario, Glenn doesn't choose Joel to purchase the land. Worst case scenario, he gets arrested in the morning.

Both options fucking sucked.

If you were lucky, you got three hours of sleep. You laid in Joel's arms, listening to him softly snore behind you while the sky turned from pitch black to a deep, angry blue through the glass French doors that lead out to the pool.

Everything hurt, but the thing that hurt the most was your heart. You tried, you really did, but Brooks's words got to you. They festered under your skin, burrowed deep down and gnawed away at you until they found a permeant spot in your chest.

Nothing helped. A day ago you would have been thrilled to find yourself in Joel's bed, but as you laid there, all you could hear was gold digger, dumb bitch, look what you did!

Your mind had a vice grip on those words and it made you sick.

You wiggled in Joel's grasp, deciding there was no use in lying there if all you were going to do was work yourself up, but his grip tightened around you protectively and pulled you into his chest. You sighed and shifted around a bit more when his sleep filled voice startled you.

"Quit squirmin'."

You stilled and lifted your chin up. "I can't sleep, I was trying to get up without waking you."

"You ain't goin' anywhere," he grumbled, and for the first time since dinner, you felt the corner of your mouth tug into a careful smile. "Why can't you sleep? You hurtin'?"

You swallowed and dropped your gaze to his hands, which were pressed firm against your stomach. Now that the room was lighter, you could see the extent of the damage and it made you cringe.

"No," you whispered, only partially lying before closing your eyes so you wouldn't look at his knuckles any longer. "Can't stop thinking about -"

You cut yourself off but Joel knew what you were going to say. He sighed and pressed a kiss against your shoulder, surprising you despite the intimate position you had found yourself in all night.

He could feel how tense your muscles were so he gave your shoulder another kiss, but that time he let his lips linger a bit longer than was necessary. He smirked a little when he saw goosebumps flare across your skin, so he did it again.

"My poor girl," he whispered, his voice dropping to sound more seductive. "I'm so sorry you went through all this, baby. You don't deserve it," he added sweetly before brushing his lips over your shoulder and up the back of your neck. His exhale tickled you behind the ear and you felt yourself melt into his hold.

You boldly took one of his hands and dragged it up from where it rested against your stomach to lay flat between your breasts, letting him feel the way your heart raced, all for him.

His breath hitched in his throat, unable to resist brushing his palm experimentally over your hardening nipple, your thin top not providing much of a barrier. Instinctively, your back arched ever so slightly. Your ass pressed into his hips, causing him to groan, so you did it again.

"Christ," he murmured, tightening his grip, fingertips dimpling the soft flesh above your breast. "What're you doin', sweetheart?"

You only whimpered a little when you rolled your hips into him again to feel his erection pressing firmly against your ass. His responding growl sent a shiver down your spine and had your head tilting back so his mouth could suck on a spot behind your ear.

"Joel, please," you breathed. He made a little noise of disapproval in the back of his throat but that didn't stop him from biting gently at your neck.

"Don't think it's a good idea," he murmured into your hair, but the throb of his cock pressed against you said otherwise. "You've been through so much, you need your rest. You gotta heal, honey."

You whined impatiently and twisted around in his arms so you could finally see him. His hair was a mess but his eyes were bright and his skin had a pink tint, giving away his aroused state, as if you didn't already know.

"Please," you begged softly, brushing your lips carefully against his. Your hand slid up to rake through the matted hair on the back of his head while you nipped eagerly at his lower lip. "Please make it feel better, Joel."

His eyelids fluttered for a moment as he felt himself losing the battle. With a deep groan, he rolled over to pin you underneath him. He made a mistake when his instincts took over and he pressed his lips firmly against yours and you whimpered painfully. He immediately drew back and inspected your wounded lip for further injury, guilt flashing in his eyes.

"It's okay, I'm okay," you whispered, pulling him back down but tilting your chin up so he could kiss your neck, instead. You felt his muscles relax, his movements slowing and growing more tender, but kept his hips pressed against your core as a reminder of how hard you made him. "I'm okay," you whispered again, sliding your eyes closed with a soft moan while his mouth dragged up and down the column of your throat and his hand roamed freely underneath the hem of your shirt.

With hardly any effort at all, he lifted your tank above your head and tossed it onto the floor. His mouth immediately latched onto one breast while his hand played with the other. Between his tongue and fingers working steadily over your nipples, it took no time at all before you were a puddle underneath him.

"So beautiful," he murmured into your skin. His hand trailed down your side to play with the drawstring of your shorts, giving you another chance to ask him to stop, but instead you followed his lead and dipped your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. He inhaled sharply against your chest when you wrapped your fist around his cock for the first time and had to remind himself to be gentle when he heard you gasp at his size.

"Y'sure, baby?" he rasped, unable to stop his hips from thrusting lightly into your hand while you stroked him up and down.

"Mhmm," you mumbled, voice getting lost somewhere in your throat. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted him. It felt like he was everywhere. His scent, his hands, the pressure of his weight on top of you... you had never been more sure about anything in your life.

You hoped he didn't notice the nervous tremble in your hands when you pushed his boxers down his legs but after he tore off his shirt, he shakily fumbled with your own shorts and you had to hold back the smile that threatened to stretch across your broken lip. Was he nervous, too?

He sat back to drink you all in when you were finally bare before him, his eyes hungrily roaming over your soft curves, making you forget about every little imperfection you ever obsessed over. You only had a moment to admire his broad, tanned chest and thick biceps before he fell back onto his elbows to cage you in.

Your pulse thrummed fast under his gaze, the skin at your jugular twitching with each nervous beat of your heart.

"Wish I could kiss you," he admitted, eyes darting down to your lip.

"Me, too," you murmured before reaching down between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. You guided him to your center, eyes never leaving his, before releasing his cock to wrap your arms around his ribs instead.

"Keep your eyes on me, okay?" he asked, voice a little broken at the request. You nodded and held your breath when you felt his tip breach your entrance. Of course, when his hips shifted to slide halfway inside, your eyes fluttered closed and your arms fell to grab at the sheets, the stretch taking your breath away.

"Baby, c'mon," he begged, nipping at your jaw. With a gasp, your eyes flew open to find his and nodded, wordlessly telling him to continue. One of his hands reached for your wrist and pinned it into the bedding next to your head. His fingers spread wide and found yours, lacing your hands together when he pushed in the rest of the way with a soft grunt.

"O-oh, fuck," you panted, struggling for air as you wiggled your hips, your cunt feeling like it was stretched to the limit. Joel watched you squirm underneath him and he couldn't help the way his chest swelled with pride.

"Yeah, you like that, baby? That feel good?" he muttered, cock throbbing inside you. You nodded, lips parted and eyes glassy, fingers flexing around his. Your fingertips brushed over his now scabbed over knuckles and a wave of your slick soaked his cock, turned on by the physical evidence of what he did to defend you.

And he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyelids drooped and your jaw went slack when you felt his knuckles again. Joel drew his hips back before slowly pushing his way back in, giving you his cock nice and slow.

"Could've killed him," he told you. Your eyes snapped open wide, looking up at him all soft and doe eyed. "Could've killed him for touching you, y'know that?"

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then your bruised, swollen lower lip trembled and his gaze darted down. Very carefully, he grazed his lips over your wound, both of you breathing in deeply as his hips pulled back and rocked into you once again. The stretch was intense, the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly overwhelming your senses.

You murmured his name and nuzzled your nose against his face, growing frustrated you couldn't kiss him. Once he set a slow, yet steady, rhythm, he pulled your hand up above your head, pushing it deep into the pillows, fingers tightening around yours as he plunged inside of you over and over. You could sense his frustration, too, by the way your jaws hung open, hovering over the other, breathing sharp gasps and pants into each other's mouths each time his hips snapped into you, knocking the air from your lungs.

"Wish I could taste you," you whispered against his open mouth. His brows pinched together, your confession rattling him for a second. "Want to know how your cock feels on my tongue. Wonder how much I can take," you continued, enjoying the way he was reacting way too much. Unconsciously, his hips picked up the pace, fucking into you a little harder and pushing you up into the pillows. His face contorted as if he were in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Can't say shit like that," he groaned, letting his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "Gonna make me come. You feel too good, fuck," he whimpered. "Shoulda been fuckin' you since we got here."

You smirked, as much as your lips would allow, anyway, before replying.

"Better make up for lost time, then."

His teeth sunk into the skin stretching across your collarbone and you moaned, slipping your fingers through his curls with your free hand. You held him there against your neck and shoulder, sighing at the trail of licks and kisses he left on your skin while his cock continued to mold a path inside you, your cunt squeezing around him with every sharp thrust.

"Shit, that's my girl," he rasped, tongue flicking out lazily to lick at your sweaty skin. "Takin' everythin' I give you. This pretty pussy just needed my cock, hm? Needed me to make it all better?"

My girl.

Stars exploded behind your eyes when you squeezed them shut, his filth hitting you like a goddamn freight train.

"Yes!" you cried out, tipping your head back into the pillow and tightening your hold on his hand. "Yes, Joel, fuck - feels so good. S-so deep. It's so much," you whined while he sucked another mark into the soft flesh above your left breast.

He soothed you with a reassuring hum before unlocking one of your legs from his waist and hooking it over his shoulder. You gasped, the sharp angle making it feel far more intense than before, dragging you closer and closer to your climax.

"Oh, my god!" you cried out when the tip of his cock nudged against a spot inside you that had your legs shaking and your vision blurring. Joel reared back, your hand falling limply from his hair, so he could fuck you harder. He huffed and panted for air, staring down at you with his jaw clenched tight and sweat trailing down the sides of his face.

The noises you were making should have embarrassed you but you didn't care, especially since Joel appeared to enjoy them so much. You gazed up at him, gasping for air every time his hips slammed into yours. You probably looked like a mess but he didn't seem to mind at all.

"Good?" was all he managed to grunt, entirely fixated on making you come.

"Yes," you whined, "please don't stop. Christ, Joel, I -"

You cut yourself off with a low moan, the relentless pace he set bringing you to the brink of an orgasm so intense, tears were already filling your eyes. He felt your muscles tensing when your breath started to come in jagged little gasps and he quickly cupped your face to tilt it up towards him, eager to watch you fall apart again, but this time promised to be much more satisfying.

With a deep growl, he ground his hips into you, rubbing the coarse hairs that curled at the base of his cock against your clit, soaking up your arousal with each pass.

Your mouth fell open and your face crumpled when you came, a litany of curses spilling from your lips while Joel continued to drag against your clit, drawing out your orgasm as long as possible while he actively fought back his own.

"Fuck, that's pretty," he grunted, still holding your face in his massive hand while the last waves washed over you. You nuzzled blindly into his palm, his other hand still holding yours so tightly, his knuckles began to slowly trickle fresh blood. "So goddamn pretty f'me, baby," he added, voice growing strained. His gaze dropped to where you were connected, watching how your slick had spread all over his cock and stomach, then flicked his eyes back up to you.

"I'm gonna come," he whimpered, cheeks puffing, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead, and brown eyes fixed on the now relaxed expression on your face. "Are you - can I -"

"Yes," you said quickly, "yes, Joel. God, yes, please come inside me, please," you pleaded. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he came, your begging being the last push he needed to fall over the edge with a loud groan.

You watched in a trance, memorizing the look of ecstasy on his face, the little ungh followed by a low hiss each time he thrusted forward, shooting his spend deep inside your used cunt until his arms shook and he finally let go of your hand, leg falling from his shoulder.

"Fuck," he gasped, each of you fighting for air while you waited for your hearts to stop racing. His hands gently braced your hips before he slipped out of your wet clutch, his cock still half hard and covered with your combined release. You made a little noise at the loss, at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but he quickly fell to your side and pulled your back against his chest, soothing you with soft strokes against your hip as you worked through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Think you can go to sleep now?" he asked, his voice hoarse and muffled from his face burrowing into your back.

"Yeah," you sighed, wiggling in his hold until you were comfortable. His seed was still dripping out of you but the last thing you wanted to do was clean it up. You wanted to feel him there for as long as possible, even though you knew the ache in your hips would serve as a constant reminder for the next day or two, at least.

"Good," he grumbled as if he were annoyed, but you could feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep were the little bright red dots that stained his knuckles on the hand that was connected to the arm wedged underneath you, holding you safe and sound.

"French fries for breakfast?" you asked him, shooting Joel a look of surprise. He shrugged and popped another one in his mouth before patting the bed next to him.

"They're my weakness."

You giggled and practically jumped back into bed, your hair dripping from your shower and the soft, white robe caressing your still highly sensitive skin.

"Do you share?" you asked him with a suggestive tone in your voice. He quirked an eyebrow at you before feeding you a fry.

"Food? Yes."

You chewed and hummed as you leaned into his shoulder, eyes drifting to the television. You furrowed your brow as you tried to figure out the movie, but his hand around your shoulder distracted you when he tugged on the soft cotton.

"Women? No," he added before dipping his other hand past the collar, cupping your breast still concealed by the robe. You inhaled sharply, your spine automatically twisting to cater to him, to give him easier access to your body like it was its only function. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he pushed you down into the mattress, movie long forgotten. When he began to suck on your neck, your lips still off limits, you groaned and gave his shoulder a playful shove.

"Look at how many marks you already left on me," you pouted, tugging open your robe with one hand so he could see.

He pulled back so he could admire his handiwork before giving you a sly grin.

"Good," he said before resuming his work on your throat. And if you didn't fucking love it so much, you might have protested a bit more but instead, you craned your neck to give him better access. You sighed and felt your body relax under him, cunt already softening and preparing to take him again when your gaze fell on the clock beside his bed.

"Oh, shit! Joel! It's almost ten!" you exclaimed, tapping on his shoulder to snap him out of his lust filled haze.

"So?"

"So?" you repeated incredulously. "What about work?"

"What 'bout it?" he mumbled, hips digging into the apex of your thighs.

"Don't you have a company to run?"

Joel scoffed against your neck and finally pulled away. He pressed his weight into his forearms, which bracketed your head, and kissed the tip of your nose.

"I'm the boss. Think I can do what I want."

He was skipping work for you? Your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the palm of his hand. You had to fight back the huge smile that pulled at your face for fear of reopening the cut on your lip, but the way your face went hot and your eyes shyly dropped from his was enough to show how happy you were.

He grinned and leaned back down to graze his teeth along your jaw. As far as either of you were concerned, nothing could touch you in the safety of his room. In your minds, the repercussions of the day before were a problem for another time.

"Well, what do you want to do, then?" you teased, gasping when you felt his already hard cock nudge against the inside of your thigh.

"You," he answered gruffly, then as fast as lightening, his hand flicked open your robe to expose yourself to him.

"Christ, you're perfect," he groaned before descending on your nipple, his teeth pinching at the sensitive bud ever so slightly while you whimpered and writhed under him.

His phone vibrated in the sheets next to you, but he ignored it.

"Joel," you breathed, blinking fast to clear your hazy vision. "Joel, your phone."

He groaned and begrudgingly released your breast but remained on top of you as he fished around for his phone.

"Gotta tell Jeff to fuck off, then -"

He paused as he stared at the screen, the blood draining from his face.

Fear shot through you and you scrambled to sit up.

"What is it?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he reread whatever popped up on his screen before dragging his eyes away to look at you.

"It's Glenn. He's in the lobby."

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nackrosor · 10 months ago

Text

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..."

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you.

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house."

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder…

He couldn't wait any longer.

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again.

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria.

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!”

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?"

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look.

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…"

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command.

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction.

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…"

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more.

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms."

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you.

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good...

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short.

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more.

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him.

At last, you had become one.

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you.

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he!

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes.

He will be such a good boy for you.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

[Should I make a nsfw version of my fanart? 🤔 I'd like to try my hand at nsfw art. Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing it.]

✨ Tag list:

@mellsfern @420-hun @murder-hobo @somethingthatsaysbubbles @b4ptiz3d @clownfishstix @blackqueengold @baileebear @oudhbsyyb @dij-ology

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icanseethefuture333 · 4 months ago

Text

PAC: “My body is my temple” what your body wishes to tell you ⏳⛲️🔱

“Fountain baby, wash her, make it wet”

“Diamonds hit the sweat”

“Tattoo on her chest, yeah, yeah, yeah”

“I like when my remedies connect”

“That pussy and a bed, like angels in Tibet”

Trigger warning: this reading heavily focuses on body image and may contain content that is triggering or sexually suggestive, viewer discretion is advised.

Pile I:

Shufflemancy -

Movement by Hozier

Dash by Nmixx

Lalala by Naughty Boy ft Sam Smith

Connect with fire, Aromatherapy, Use Your hands, Two of Wands, Nine of Cups, & Four of Swords

"Dear, pile 1,

I hope you are doing well. I wish for you to be free with your body, for you have been blessed with the gift of movement. You are fortunate to have limbs that can twist and turn. Wiggle your hips, try to touch your nose with your tongue, be silly and stop being such a stiff all the time. I know you were told to "sit down" and "be still" as a child but it is time to express yourself in a way you were not allowed to before. Your inner child needs you, I keep them safe, stored inside your belly and in the memories of your brain. I want to tell that you are enough and I love your creativity! I want to be there with you, every step of the way. I, your body, am tense, I wish to embrace the warmth. Visit a spa and receive an aromatherapy treatment or lay on the warm sand. Why do you keep lying in bed? Your life is passing you by. You were blessed with a physical vessel that is capable of movement. I put an emphasis on this because I know you have been feeling fatigued and a lack of motivation. I know about those thoughts you have when you look at me, your body. You have features that you are confident about but I know that when you look at me, you find me simple, in comparison to a figure that might be more dynamic than I. I don't feel offended when you think these thoughts but I do hope that one day you can value me, your body. I know about the smoking or the desire you have to do it, I have no problem with it, but don't let it desensitize you from your senses. Getting high provides an outlet but it should not be used as a substance to escape from your problems (channeled song: High Alone by Sevdaliza). A coping method I would like for you to try is writing your feelings on paper and burning it. You are talented with your hands as well, please look into creating art or careers that involves craftsmanship. Take a pottery / ceramics class if you are wanting a new hobby.

Pile II:

Shufflemancy -

Indigo by Niki

Low by SZA

Alter Ego by Doechii ft. JT

Connect with Your Womb, Hydrate, Flow Like Water, Ace of Wands, Ten of Swords, & Seven of Wands

"Hello pile 2,

I am so proud of how far you have come! You are such a strong individual, I know the emotions that you store deep down. The side of you that the world does not see. You shine bright like the moon but I, your body, get to see your dark side. I know that you have goals and aspirations, you want to prove everybody who told you could never do it that they're wrong. There was a lack of representation for your body type and I know that when you were a teenager, this made you feel very self conscious. The rolls, the stretch marks, and cellulite that developed on your canvas was bound to happen, for that is the transition into adulthood. I know that you get upset sometimes at the level of weight, height, and density that I carry, but instead of letting these insecurities stop you, you have truly made a path for yourself and for others with similar a body type. You are growing and learning that the way to happiness is acceptance. Although, you hide behind a persona that is masked with confidence, people commend you for your ability to communicate boundaries, and how you comfortably express yourself through your style, but underneath this veil of deception, you are someone who desires love. You know that you are a successful and powerful being with immense sexual energy but there is a lack of vulnerability. In order to release these burdens and be more in touch with your emotions, connect with your menstrual cycle. Listen to what I, your body, am telling you to do during this time. Drink plenty of fluids and uptake your vitamins by eating fruits or making smoothies/juices. I know that you are dominant by nature but allow others to guide you in life and to provide you the help you need. If you are seeking a goal, the universe will place them into your life to assist you. "Be like water, my friend" - Go with the flow and see where the waves will take you. You should also take the time to go swimming or relax by a body of water (pool, lake, river, etc). Go buy that bikini or swimsuit you've been wanting to wear, you will look so amazing in it."

Pile III:

Shufflemancy -

On My Mama by Victoria Monét

I'm That Girl by Beyoncé

Bossy by Kelis ft. Too $hort

Connect with Your Ancestors, Ground Yourself, Build Strength, Temperance, Six of Wands, & The Emperor

"Pile 3,

If you expected me to be sweet like the other piles you are surely mistaken! I am here to give you the cold hard truth, I don't sugarcoat nothing. I, your body, am a descendant of your ancestors. Your shape was passed down from the maternal figures in your family. I don't care what other bodies look like, I know, that me, your body, is tea! I don't need to be hourglass, pear, or any other man made name of a body shape to be considered "sexy". These are illusions that the industry creates to make people feel insecure about themselves to get work done or buy products. You do not need any of that, you are gorgeous!!! I need you to wake the hell up and realize that. Those random body aches and cramps you get is because I am trying to get your attention when your ass ignores me. You will not look like those people you have been comparing yourself to, look at the beauty that your family possesses, that you possess. You need to ground yourself whenever you feel self conscious because of your reality. Those videos and images you see on social media are not real, it is a fake virtual world. You and I, are real, we need to reconnect, my love. Mediate more, do yoga, anything to bring your mind back to focus on you. You also need to be patient, if you wish to obtain a physical goal, you need to build endurance and strength. Quick fixes does not last and will only make the situation worst, invest your time in the gym. Bring your attention on balancing your masculine and feminine energy. You can highlight my qualities by sculpting me, your body. I am a piece of art. You need to learn to appreciate me as I have adored you, even when you reject me."

Pile IV:

Shufflemancy -

Summer 2020 by Jhené Aiko

Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All) by Omar Apollo

You Know Wassup by Kehlani

Connect with the Earth, Be Still, Beauty Ritual, Two of Pentacles (reversed), The Empress, & Knight of Cups

"Oh, pile 4,

You have been dealing with a lot. I know you are still recovering from that relationship, I feel it in our heart. Your world was turned upside down after being with them. Detachment is necessary at this time in order to heal, they never deserved you, and I am glad they no longer have access to me, your body - for we are too beautiful to settle for less. I hope you can see how serene life can be when you are single. The most precious time we have left on this planet is with ourselves, the memories we can make just by being on our own, and discovering the complex layers of our psyche. Allow yourself to be still in this moment in your life and reflect on how you are currently feeling. Do not focus on the past or the future but instead your present, for it is a gift. Spend time in nature or connect with animals, your nervous system will greatly appreciate it. You need comfort and relaxation at this time. Perhaps visit your favorite place or take a walk through the park, whichever you feel most comfortable with. It has been a while since you done something for me. I know you have not been feeling your best but it would be nice if we could a beauty ritual together. How about a nice warm bath with lots of bubbles and suds <3? You could paint your nails, do your skincare routine, massage your scalp, whatever makes you feel the most happy and beautiful. A little ASMR session could be fun as well. I, your body, wish to be your best friend. I look up to you so much, even though I have matured, I still feel like that little child playing in the sandbox or playing on the playground. Do you remember those times? Sorry, I sound nostalgic, hehe. Its just good to finally speak to you, I love you so much yet you never got to know till now, just like how Joy adores Riley from Inside Out. I want you to be happy in life. I know that things have been rough for you but I hope just like those moments where you cried as a child when you scrapped your knee, that this could be a healing process we can overcome, together. Take care, my lovely, pile 4. Love - Your body."

Pile V:

Shufflemancy -

Unfold by Alina Baraz

Step On Up by Ariana Grande

Tia Tamera by Doja Cat ft. Rico Nasty

Chanting, Pleasure, Create Art, Three of Pentacles, The World, & Two of Cups

"Heyyy, pile 5!

I'm not a regular body, I'm a cool body! I want to help you embody this mindset of being unstoppable and powerful. You have so much potential that needs to be put into motion. I want you to work on your stamina and start shifting into gear towards your goals. I hope you are feeling pumped - I know I am! I want you to walk into the room as if you own the place. You need to work on your confidence, straighten your posture, and keep your chin up high. Practicing affirmations or chanting lyrics from uplifting music could you get in you in good spirits. I want you to feel like the diva that you are meant to be. Also honey, I am still cute and perky, SHOW ME OFF! I love when people look at me, your body. I want attention and compliments just as much as you do. You are like a work of art, stop shying behind others and covering me up. Not to be brash but when is the last time you pleasured yourself?! Its been ages since I had a good orgasm. You need to learn to put yourself on the pedestal and stop only focusing on what make others feel good, when have you ever put yourself first? Exactly. I want you to march into that bedroom and focus on making yourself feel sexy. Adore me, wear lingerie, do something to get me excited! Its been a dry spell, so please make sure I am wet first and be gentle. I would like for you to to make me squirt for the first time (be gentle but not that gentle <3). My bad, is that too forward? I just want somebody to match my freak and you could totally do it. I am flirting with you? yes! That's how I want you to feel about me, your body. You should learn to paint, maybe even paint yourself nude, who's gonna judge? Nobody is there to see, unless you want them to see. Wouldn't it be fun if we went to a art class and allowed those peasants to paint us like the god/goddess we are? Not to brag but I know I'm good looking, teehee! In all seriousness, I want you to know that the opportunities in life are endless and you have so much potential sometimes that I don't think you realize it. I am so eager to explore my senses. I want you to travel different countries, eat some yummy food, create art, have a romantic fling, and make love everywhere in the house (if that's your thing I mean... no pressure). Anyways, what I am trying to say is be more adventurous, you don't always have to be responsible, isn't that what being young is for? How can you learn from your mistakes and gain wisdom if you are always wanting to be traditional and focused."

Pile VI:

Shufflemancy -

Focus by H.E.R

Cozy Girl by Baby Tate

Chill Pad Deluxe by Majid Jordan

Write a Gratitude List, Read, Make a Meal, Five of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, & Page of Cups

"I'm sleepy, pile 6,

I need a really good nap. Could we just stay in? I love being comfortable and relaxed in bed. To be truthful with you, and you might already know this, I am an introverted body. I do not like being in crowds or around other people for too long because it really zaps my energy :<! I prefer being at home, tending to the planets, and being in a zen environment. Could you make me a cup of tea? I would really like something warm and comforting to drink. I hope we can be in a environment one day that is something we always dreamed of - peaceful and zen, a sanctuary for us and our loved ones. I sound old fashioned, don't I now? I guess you could consider me an old soul, I am sorry if I hold you back at times from getting to know new people or make friends, I am still recovering from our past struggles. I also feel like I disappoint you at times. Could you please write about what you're grateful for when it comes to me, your body? I need to hear words of affirmation, for I feel I've been beat down enough by the world, I don't want you to hate me too, it makes me sad. I forgive you for all the times you ever been upset with me and whoever has hurt us. I think we should start over and get to know each other again. I want to help you with your health, I know you have gut issues. We need to eat out less and learn how to cook home cooked meals. It would be nice if we made a recipe book! I love your cooking, even if it sometimes taste a little funny. I feel childish, do you see me, your body, as childlike? I revert to this state to protect myself, I am so sorry, I'm very sensitive. If I could, I would feel like crying but that's a good thing, I could finally release everything I have been pushing down. Let's cozy up under a fluffy blanket, lay on our pretty head on big pillow, and read a book. Could you read me a bedtime story? Oh I would really like that. Maybe even buy me a teddy bear? I like to cuddle, it helps me fall asleep. I also like when you wear silky pajamas or t shirts with sweatpants, its the best combo. You are naturally so pretty. If I could hug you I would, do you mind hugging me? If I had a voice, it would be soft like Winnie the Pooh. I like tummy rubs. I am grateful for you taking such good care of me, I will do my best to support you. Thank you for all you have done and will do for me."

Pile VII:

Shufflemancy -

The Truman Show by Sylvan Lacue ft Xavier Omar

Insane by Summer Walker

Healthy by PRETTYMUCH

Spend Time with Friends, Make an Altar, Deep Breathing. King of Swords, Nine of Swords, & Page of Pentacles

"Breathe, pile 7!

Sheesh! Are you okay??? What's the rush, dude? You need to chill, I know you would like to accomplish your goals but you're making me, your body, sick! Forget about FOMO and catching up with others, slow and steady can still win the race. You have to be smart with how you use your energy. Instead of trying to tackle everything all at once, how about making a schedule and breaking it up into smaller tasks? It would help with all the stress you're experiencing. You are creating unnecessary tension in your life, stop comparing yourself to others, or feeling like you need to buy something because of a trend, you are missing out on special moments because you are in such a hurry to- well, grow up! You need to take some time to relax and interact with friends, I could use a really good belly laugh. Have a movie night with your besties and put the weight of the world away. I don't ask for much but all I ask is that you please take care of your anxiety before it becomes a concern. Making an altar with your favorite pictures and trinkets to calm you down could help provide you a safe space, you could even decorate it with flowers, candles, or string lights, whatever makes you happy! When you sit down at your altar, practice taking deep breaths, and empty your mind. This will provide clarity and help you calm down. If you need guidance or wisdom in life, please come to me, your body, before going to others. I can help you make the right decisions, pay attention to your intuition, and the signals I give you, for it might even save your life one day."

Pile VIII:

Shufflemancy -

Jealousy, Jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo

Splinter by FIG

Prom Queen by Beach Bunny

Sweet Treat, Sound Healing, Alone Time, The Tower, Eight of Pentacles, & The High Priestess (reversed)

"What's up, doll? I-I mean Pile 8!

I don't mean to pester ya. I bet you didn't expect me to sound like a new jersey housewife, eh? Or is it Harley Quinn??? Bugs Bunny?! Eh, whateva. Listen pudding. You are sweet as a cupcake, ooo wee! What a delight you are! You and me, doll, we make quite the pair, you know- given that I'm your body and all. Listen babe, you mind if I call you babe, sugar? I know you've been a bit down in the dumps for being "fun sized". Whether ya petite or a slim jim, what's it to ya?! Who cares if others got a bit more pushin' to the cushion? You're absolutely friggin' adorable! Keep it cute and perky. You're like Sandy Dee from Grease before she got the makeover and what not. The spice you need is that confidence Sandy got when she mustered up the courage to change up her look and join The Pink Ladies. You gotta show these fools you're not just somebody they could push around! Hun, to be frank with you, I'm really tense, I get all tough in the muscles because you're always being picked on and it makes me protective of you. It's hard for me, ya body, to let my guard down. . Bake me some goodies will ya? Whenever you're having a tough day, reward yourself with some treats. I want you to stop caring about how much you eat or where it's gonna go, you're perfect the way you are. Also why don't you listen to some music to unwind? Jam in your room, get a instrument, sing, listen to frequencies, do whatever brings you peace toots. As much as I am good at interacting with the peoples, I think it's time for us to get some alone time. We gotta start from the ground up because I know you're struggling with your confidence because of what happened to ya. Ya know- that traumatic event we don't really like to talk about? Yeah you know what I mean. I wish I could beat up those stupid bullies who made you cry. I know that from a young age, you always compared yourself to the popular kids and those celebrities from the magazines but doll, peaking early doesn't mean its gonna last forever. Being a late bloomer has its advantages, you have the brains and the beauty to match with it. I want you to know that you got something really special, kiddo! And I'm not saying it just because I'm your body. I want you to focus on building a career and getting a good education. Trust me when I say this, as you get older, I'm gonna spread out in all the right places, you won't even know when it will hit ya! I'll make it move like water, if you know what I mean, baby!!!"

Pile IX:

Shufflemancy -

In A Good Way by Faye Webster

Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae

How Sweet by NewJeans

Journal, Look to the Stars, Family, Wheel of Fortune, Ace of Pentacles, & The Fool

"Greetings, pile 9,

You have arrived to your destination! I find you to be so ethereal and beautiful. I hope you don't try to diminish your beauty by wanting to fit in, you look your best when you stand out. I like when you wear flowy clothing, it makes you sparkle like a celestial being from outer space. You should dressing according to the signs in your birth chart, it could help you attract abundance. Are you wishing to manifest your dream body? It is possible, for I, your body, are transformative. We constantly growing and changing in life. You should journal your thoughts and ideas, watch your goals come into reality. I want you to really shoot for the stars! Invest your money in taking care of your health. There are health issues that are genetic and run in your family, instead of fighting it, focus on taking care of yourself. Buying the right foods, supplements, and vitamins could be crucial at this time. I believe giving gifts and being generous to family members would help promote good spirits. If you are wanting to try something new lately, perhaps traveling, or going on vacation, now would be a good time to do so. I would like for us to go for a run, jog, or a walk! Let's visit places we never been to before, something magical is waiting to happen. I, your body, would also like a little buddy. Could we get a pet? So that they can accompany us in our jogs through the neighborhood, that would be fun!"

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #astro observations #astrology observations #astrology #astro community #astro notes #manifestation #law of assumption #affirmations #Spotify #witchcraft #spells #self concept

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acid-ixx · 4 months ago

Note

IM ALMOST DONE

THIS IS GONNA BE GUT-WRENCHING

Taken from the prequel:

you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together.

— masterlist !

help ??!? u rlly are feeding the community with ur fanart 🩷 bruce and damian bonding together despite it only being months since he was introduced into the family literally ruins any sliver of hope and only furthers the longing (name) would have, and the fact that they're mere silhouettes in the art is so <33 erm ignore my suddenly disappearance for a day or two, i was feeling unwell 💔

otherwise, here's something for u because i appreciate everything you send me ! ft. post-kidnapped reader with yan! bruce and damian.

bruce and damian after kidnapping you would not take lightly the diary entries you have written, expressing jealousy and contempt towards your biological father and half-brother, about how it was alfred who had to take the time of his busy day to watch a movie with you instead. when you write about how you wished alfred was your father instead, bruce would not only feel his heart clenching but he'd also need the feel to prove himself better than the past, that he can and will be the only father you would ever need.

add damian to the mix, who had his own bouts of jealousy towards you, who wanted to bond with you in ways closer than you ever will with your other siblings, who felt that deep pit of guilt that he knows he could never crawl out of, with his addled tantrums...

— and you get yourself an overtly clingy dynamic with those two in the same room as you. now, instead of both of them dismissing your presence, the two would be fixated upon your every movement, your expressions, your actions. anything and everything would be documented and if you ate less or talked less, damian would always be the first to comment upon it, and your dad (as you should be calling bruce) would take damian's observations seriously. there's no escaping their grips.

no, you can't say no just now! damian wants to watch animal documentaries with you and that's the only thing keeping him from slicing someone's head off their body! what do you mean you don't want to spend time with them? bruce just needs to have his baby by his side and— no, just because you're over 18 doesn't mean your family would lessen their affection towards you! you're still so young and who knows what path of self-destruction you'd bring on yourself if you're left to your own whims.

the family is dysfunctional enough, so any concept of personal space is nonexistent. it makes everything worse if you'd have to deal with more than two people in the same room... and two very strong, capable, and deadly vigilantes who invites you to watch movies with them isn't very soothing to your veins but those hands that can crush your throats are your family and they make it obvious that you're the favorite, that despite the... rough past they inflicted on you, they'll always love you; so what's the point in denying them?

you'll be squashed between your father and your youngest brother on the couch, with fluffy blankets and your favorite show playing in the background. you express any ounce of discomfort and bruce would immediately ask you what's wrong, what do you need, are you hungry, perhaps? is the popcorn stale? or do you want another snack? he'll pause the movie and ask you with practiced precision, the furrow on his brows and analytical eyes are an immediate signal that all your answers are taken seriously. yet despite his intimidating tactics, despite the lack of light in the room casting a shadow on his face, he questions you with your head laid on his chest and a scarred hand trying to soothingly run through your hair.

meanwhile, damian wouldn't even hesitate resting his head on your shoulders, finding it useless to silently express his need for your physical affection. so he takes it in himself to wrap his entire body around your torso, hands locking you in a grip that provides scorching heat under the countless of blankets you're already wrapped in. sometimes, he doesn't even know that he occasionally nuzzles against your neck, and you have no way to push yourself away from him because the position you're in makes you sandwiched between your father's chest and damian's body. and you can't do anything about it but puff, asking your youngest if he could be so kind to at least leave you air to breath.

he'll merely comply, but then it's your legs that would be tangled against each other next, and it'd be soon you'll discover that it's meaningless trying to attempt to escape their affection.

because really, you have no way out of this, not when everyone suddenly insists that bonding time with any siblings or with bruce requires your presence above everybody else's.

#🍨... yael's talking #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #a&a: fanart #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #platonic yandere

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egcdeath · 4 months ago

Text

sealing the deal

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.

word count: 7k

warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship

author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.

i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)

It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate.

In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite.

Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly.

You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick—connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else.

“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her.

“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about.

“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation.

“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now.

“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.

“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar.

“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”

“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”

You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.

“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating.

“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you.

Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters.

At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda.

Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.

Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships—if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch.

At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man.

It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before.

Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone.

What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning.

Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money.

You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city.

You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous.

By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats.

“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw.

“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”

“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”

“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”

“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”

“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity.

“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”

In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time.

While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond.

Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters.

While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could.

It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too.

While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give.

Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that.

This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world.

Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family.

But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day.

The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all.

The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered.

But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship.

It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.

Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him.

Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building.

When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.

Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.

You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died.

“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree.

“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”

“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it.

Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support.

You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him.

You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father.

You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters.

It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this.

He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself.

In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man.

All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.

Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive.

To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry.

It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend.

You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you.

Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner.

“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him.

“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you.

“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless.

“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”

“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”

“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life.

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh.

“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”

You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time.

“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless.

“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.

“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye.

You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away.

Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away.

“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in.

“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.

You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.

“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,” she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her.

If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal.

You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good.

When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you.

He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital.

Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him.

In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him.

His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep.

In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged.

On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included.

Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict.

In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.

But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people.

It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt.

“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you.

“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so.

“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up.

“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you.

“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands.

“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head.

“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all.

The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins.

These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk.

You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation.

“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear.

“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“

“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”

You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine.

You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately.

“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him.

“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”

“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.

“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.

“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered.

“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner.

“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”

You eyed him suspiciously.

“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so.

“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car.

“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting.

“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either.

When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours.

“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him.

“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.

Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him.

The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.

“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed.

When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?”

Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend.

“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on.

Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised.

“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was.

You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story.

If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”

Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles.

“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him.

In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did.

Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense.

As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig headcanon #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #challengers fic #reader insert #josh o'connor x reader

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