#x: and it's the wonders i'm after; even if I have to bleed for them (adam and khan.)

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.

[5sospenguinqueen]

You Got Me Tripping - Mick Schumacher x Williams! Reader

Summary: They say you should never meet your heroes - or the offspring of your heroes - and when you make a complete ass out of yourself in front of Mick, you might agree

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff.

Williams development driver. Pinterest pics

I'm not in love with this but I had the idea so it had to be written haha

F1 Masterlist

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f1news just posted

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and others 

f1news accurate reenactment of the moment when williams’ development driver, Yn Ln, met the son of hero michael schumacher… and forgot how to walk 

1,221 comments

user1 i love how they can’t post the actual video footage netflix got because you know she threatened everyone to bury it

user2 not the drivers being summoned to a trashy news blog dedicated to them

→ user3 they too are obsessed with this development

its_yn_ln is this what people call news these days? boring!

→ landonorris speak for yourself, this was hilarious 

→ alex_albon i have it saved as my lockscreen

→ logansargeant i’ve definitely watched it more than 10x

→ its_yn_ln i hate you all 

→ georgerussell63 even me? i can introduce you to the hero of your stumblings

→ landonorris probably not the best idea, mate. you'd need her to stay in one piece 

→ williams so do we, she’s our reserve 

user4 she lost aura points for this 

user5 i get it. i too would trip over thin air if mick schumacher smiled at me like that 

user6 why are we all forgetting the most important part?

→ user7 you mean how red she went when he helped her up

user8 and the way he launched forward to catch her 

→ user9 no wonder she swooned

→ user10 mhm if those arms were wrapped around me 😏

williamsracing just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and others 

williamsracing following contact earlier today between Yn and the concrete, we’re pleased to confirm that the driver sustained little more than a bruised ego

5,335 comments

its_yn_ln watch yourself, i know where you work 

→ jv.f1 stop threatening the admin, please

→ its_yn_ln but they’re bullying me 

logansargeant where’s the post about my suffering? i had to listen to her complain about how embarrassed she was

→ its_yn_ln stop exposing me! 

→ user11 you’ve exposed yourself 

→ its_yn_ln i really hope i didn’t. nobody said my jeans split

→ landonorris trust me, if we'd seen your ass, you'd have seen me retching

its_yn_ln that’s a lie, i suffered a wound to my elbow 

→ alex_albon it’s a scrape, you didn’t even bleed 

→ its_yn_ln i’ve lost a layer of skin! 

→ alex_albon maybe that’ll make you go faster in practice tomorrow 

→ its_yn_ln @/lilymhe leave him 

oscarpiastri the figure chasing Yn is actually lando

→ its_yn_ln he tried following me into the bathroom earlier! 

mickschumacher i hope she recovers quickly 

georgerussell63 do you want me to ask him to kiss it better?

→ its_yn_ln do you want me to edge you off the track in practice? 

→ williamsracing you’re not allowed to say these things

→ its_yn_ln i’m gonna have to undergo pr training after this, aren’t i?

→ alex_albon yes

→ logansargeant yes

→ williamsracing yes

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mickschumacher just posted

liked by georgerussell63, its_yn_ln and others 

mickschumacher silverstone 🇬🇧

3,470 comments

pierregasly i have not heard from Yn since these were posted

georgerussell63 can we check nearby holes in case Yn tripped into one

→ its_yn_ln this is why lewis is my favourite merc member

→ georgerussell63 not mick?

→ its_yn_ln i decline to answer that 

alex_albon somebody check on Yn, please

→ landonorris she seemed fine when i passed hospitality. she was enjoying her lunch ;)

→ logansargeant again? interesting. i knew there was a reason she was hiding from williams this weekend

→ charles_leclerc @/pierregasly pay up 

maxverstappen1 why am i reading through mick’s comment section?

→ danielricciardo because we all like seeing Yn getting teased

→ its_yn_ln you’re both off my christmas card list

williamsracing please release your hold on our driver

mercedesamgf1 mick, as much as we love you, we have a couple of admins demanding someone back

→ mickschumacher no thanks

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its_yn_ln just posted

liked by mickschumacher, alex_albon and others 

its_yn_ln when you both get a weekend off and he finally takes you on the picnic he’s promising for the past month 

3,666 comments 

alex_albon it’s not funny when you embrace it

→ its_yn_ln it’s not funny anyway?

→ georgerussell63 not true

→ its_yn_ln @/carmenmmundt leave him

→ alex_albon stop telling our girlfriends to leave us

→ its_yn_ln stop being douchebags then

user11 guys hear me out. what if it’s mick?

→ user12 feels like you're taking a joke just a tad too seriously

→ user13 no, no, let her talk 

landonorris another day, another slay

→ its_yn_ln let’s get you back to the home, grandma

→ landonorris only if we take you back to the fracture clinic

→ its_yn_ln i fell one time! 

→ oscarpiastri it was twice

→ mickschumacher when was the second?

danielricciardo who’s car was coolest?

→ its_yn_ln mine, i had a daytona

→ mercedesamgf1 whoa, he’s building a merc so he clearly wins

williamsracing we get palpitations every time we see your name trending on twitter

→ its_yn_ln i read the pr manual, this doesn’t break the rules! 

→ williamsracing that doesn’t mean we trust you! 

→ logansargeant ouch. and i thought it was just my heart they broke 

user11 okay so she mentioned them both getting a weekend off, it’s the first weekend without a race after the triple header so he’s obvi a driver 

→ user11 then they’re building lego cars. what do mick and yn do for a living? drive cars

→ user11 and then she used a warning slippery floor sign for a meme when the whole internet  has been teasing her for falling over when she first met him 

→ its_yn_ln the fbi needs to hire some of y’all

lilymhe answer my texts, please!!! and thanks xx

mickschumacher looks like a fun weekend

→ its_yn_ln it was! 

→ user14 this is such a bland interaction

→ user11 it’s obvi deliberate babe. they’re trying to throw us off

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mickschumacher just posted

liked by its_yn_ln, sebastianvettel and others

mickschumacher how could i resist when she literally fell for me 

4,774 comments

its_yn_ln i hate you 

→ mickschumacher that’s not what you were whispering in my ear in that photo 

lilymhe the cutest

→ its_yn_ln whoa, what about us?

→ lilymhe you never fell over for me

→ alex_albon you’re not mick schumacher 

georgerussell63 you can put her down, she’s definitely not going to run away from you 

→ mickschumacher yes but if her feet don’t touch the floor then she can’t fall 

its_yn_ln at least i know you’ll be around to catch me <3

→ landonorris this is gross. go back to publicly humiliating yourself 

→ its_yn_ln just because i have more rizz than you 

→ landonorris not sure how

→ mickschumacher she’s cute. you’re not 

mercedesamgf1 where is your protective gear?

→ its_yn_ln i told you that we'd get in trouble if you posted that 

→ mickschumacher but i wanted everyone to see how good you looked on top of my bike 

→ alex_albon please stop. i can't take anymore giggling

→ logansargeant and i have to listen to her gush about you 

→ williamsracing we are all suffering 

→ its_yn_ln vengeance! this is what happens when you cyberbully me

charles_leclerc this doesn't make her seem very hardcore!

→ its_yn_ln you take that back! i have a reputation to maintain

→ mickschumacher darling, i think you ruined that reputation months ago when we met

f1 and they said being a development driver was only good for getting a seat

→ user16 f1 bringing together true loves

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Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @evie-119

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)

[fawnindawn]

the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)

Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff

masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!

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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."

"I told you, I know nothing, and even if I did- patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.

Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.

Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.

Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.

_

It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had snuck into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence.

Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.

"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."

Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they end up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from its bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.

Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?

You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.

The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.

"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.

He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.

"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."

With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.

"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.

You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.

You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.

"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.

After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."

You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.

You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.

"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"

You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.

Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"

He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.

You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.

His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.

"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."

Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.

Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.

You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"

He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."

He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."

You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"

You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.

"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."

"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"

"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.

"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."

"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."

"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."

"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."

Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.

"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."

Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.

"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar on my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.

You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."

"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."

He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.

You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.

"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."

"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."

Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?

Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.

"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.

"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”

He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.

"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."

He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."

You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."

He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"

"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."

"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."

"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"

"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.

"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."

"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."

You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"

He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

_

"What are you smiling about?"

You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.

"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."

"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."

He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."

You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.

"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."

He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."

You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.

a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.

taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina

[moondirti]

animalic (1)

series masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader rating: mature word count: 1.9k summary: he won't stop until he gets you warnings: enemies to lovers, injuries, kissing, minor ATSV spoilers, size kink (?), mentions of gore and death, not spell checked nor edited, honestly not my best work but the horny is all that matters notes: stayed up all night for this because i had to get it out of my system before finals. there'll be a few more parts, i promise i'm not this cruel haha

“I thought grace was a prerequisite for your little spider-club.” 

Your quip sounds disjointed – even to your own ears – entwined with wheezes that rattle your splintered rib cage. In all honesty, the circumstances don’t seem to be favouring you; he’s got you confined upon the wreckage of your own fight, hanging off the remnants of a crane that dangerously tips over a quarry. And though this isn’t the worst you’ve faced, Miguel’s presence always seems to make things more complicated than they need to be.

You’d had a stable hold on the beam, ready to pull yourself up and dematerialise to wherever he wasn’t. Until, of course, the asshole kicked your elbows off. Now, your fingers remain as your only attachment to the structure, shaking violently with their diminishing strength. Your torso isn’t faring any better, either – the bleeding both internal and trickling from the gashes in your hoodie. 

(You wonder if he’s toying with you, like a panther with its food. Of the rare times he’s assigned another spiderman to pursue you, they didn’t tend to drag it out for this long. 

But, you suppose, Miguel’s different.) 

He takes a small step forward, lifting his foot over your digits. He could crush them like this, turn the bone to powder and keep pressing until it macerates in the gore. You can’t put it past him, really, not if you utter one more self-sabotaging word. You’ve seen him rip through steel and silk alike, fueled on the resentment that simmers deep within his very essence. Yours is merely the same fate that’s befallen every other obstacle that’s dared to come his way. 

But the tension buzzes between you two, thickening until it’s palpable enough to taste. Miguel is quiet as ever, completely still save for the flickering light of his dimensional travel watch. You envy his position – that resolute stature, brimful of power as his shoulders square, his calf rippling with subdued strength, still stretched over your hand. You blame that, or the mask, slick with sweat and humid as it sticks to your nose. Or the glasses that slowly slip to reveal your squinting eyes. You blame anything apart from what it is; that fear that steadily begins to flood your senses, numbing it all into one, cohesive panic. 

You’ve never been good at life or death scenarios. 

“Or, maybe, the big boss thinks he can break his own rules?” 

The air snaps. With an infuriated roar, he lunges at you, razor-sharp talons swiping at your face. In your frenzied dunk to avoid them, your fingers drop. 

You plunge to the bottomless chasm below.

Okay. Let’s try to get this right, one last time. 

Your name doesn’t matter. It hasn’t, not for a while now. 

For the past year, you’ve been on the run from the Spider Society. You don’t exactly blame them for it, either. Every world you’ve crashed has gone to shit, despite serious lack of trying. Food-barren wastelands, borderless warzones. Truthfully, after the mantle of Earth 7BB-1 convected in on itself, you were inclined to turn yourself in. 

Independant of the fact that Nueva York seems to be the only place you can’t fuck up. Regardless of the relatability you have with the residents of its lobby. You were bitten by a radioactive spider just the same, and for all the good you’ve tried to do, you’ve never been a spider-hero. If it meant that no one else got hurt, you really would have been able to cope with lifetime confinement.

(Greater good and all that.)

Would’ve. Could’ve. If it weren’t for Miguel O’Hara’s interjection, and his goddamn alternative solution, things just might have turned out that way. 

You’re not dead. 

The realisation whips your consciousness into high alert, eyes snapping open to survey your surroundings. You process the light first, its brilliance piercing through the bromine-doused cotton that stuffs your skull. Then, it’s the pain that, up until this point, had been thrumming in the background. It crackles, marrow-deep, tearing down the tendons in your shoulders to the throbbing area around your ribs. They’re in doubtlessly worse shape than they had been at the quarry, the ache searing across to engulf your spine too. 

He had let you fall on your back, that dickhead. 

But– 

You’re not dead. 

It doesn’t take you long to figure out why that is. 

A red forcefield entraps you, droning its monotonous hum, partially obscuring everything beyond your own reflection. You can see the faint impression of a silhouette – no, multiple – stalking you on the other end, a great shadow court. They warp and grow with every passing second, gorging on your offered vulnerability, awaiting some wordless signal from the harbinger of death, to execute justice upon the one who’s been causing them so much trouble. Jess Drew. Hobie Brown. Ben Reilly. 

(They’d been more forgiving, once. Willing to negotiate peace, to treat you more than the screw up you’ve proven to be. 

His voice overrode theirs. Always.)

It’s easier to make out the devil himself – more so than the others. You’ve come to memorise the slope of those shoulders, how his fists clench at his sides as he circles you. You imagine the smug set of his jaw and those eyes, just as luminous as the cage you curl within. The puck at the base is recognisable, akin to the capture weapons he’s thrown at you previously. He’d saved your life, then.

On a technicality. You’ll bury that thought to rage over later. 

“How–”

The question hardly forms before you’re ripped in two, the atoms of all but your spirit splicing into one another in a defect of blue and orange. The glitch exacerbates the fractures that threaten to knock you out, racking through your system as it rearranges your matter into amorphous forms. It’s only when something is thrown into the enclosure do you snap back to. A bracelet clatters to the floor. 

“Didn’t know whether you’d be used to the glitching yet.” A disembodied voice remarks. It’s at a particularly whiny pitch – you assign it to Ben. 

“We… tried to get it on you, kid. But you–” A feminine inflection crops up. Jess sounds the same since the last you spoke. 

You glower at them from the corner of your eye – unsure if they can actually see you – and snap the day pass on. Your spectral abilities were handy at the best of times; to shift from the corporeal, coming into immateriality, makes the most complicated situations evadeable. You credit it for your continued survival, if nothing else. Yet to speak like you could control it, especially while unconscious, was pushing it. You clearly weren’t able to activate it when you needed it the most.

And now you’re here. 

“I’m not going to ask what you want, so let’s keep this short– y-yeah? Either you let me go, or this Earth’ll be the next to unravel.” Despite your intentions, the demand escapes you in a long-winded croak. You hear Hobie snicker, the laugh teetering the edge of approval. Anyone can tell the promise has no foundation.

“That won’t be happ–” 

“Leave us.” 

The room clips into white noise. You fail to focus on anything but that echoing order. 

His voice comes across clearer than all else, too, cadence resonating past any natural boundary, tugging your heart right where it’s tender. There’s that fear again, that singular dread, only ever triggered by his indifference. Perhaps more potent than fury, his patience gives away an all-assured determination. Deadly. 

You bite your cheek, steeling your expression into one of similar apathy. It feels like a child’s attempt at dress up, grubby hands clutched around mother’s lipstick, painting on a clown’s complexion. Crackling apprehension brushes across your most vulnerable parts; layer by layer, you’re skinned as the group files out. Bare nerves are all that’s left for your faceoff with the hulking man.

He throws another puck to the floor. His own forcefield conjoins to yours. 

His cheeks have gotten hollower, you notice, emphasising the cheekbones that are just as keen as everything else about him. He offers no smile, no grand boast of victory. Instead, he breathes – calmly, fixedly, and lets you absorb the overwhelming magnitude of his size once more. He’s aware of what it strikes in you, can see it in the way you falter upon every reintroduction. Miguel is colossal, a reality that has never been more apparent than in this cramped enclosure. 

You know that if you stop to ponder it, it’ll ruin you. 

Rearing on your heels, you bounce from your place on the ground, making a grab for his watch. He anticipates it, having caught the decision blaze in your pupils, and side steps, pivoting to gain the upper hand while your back is still turned. You rebound off the field wall, stumbling back when he yanks you by your hoodie. Your shoulder presses into his chest, and he moves to wrap himself around your form.

Your skin prickles. His body passes right through you. 

His recovery time is nearly nonexistent relative to your last fight – quick learner – but you’re still swift on your feet, bolting to his watch again. It’s a millisecond too slow, for his talons sink into your forearm when you start to pull away. 

Your pained yelp loses momentum as he slams your back against the wall, using a knee to pin your other arm in place, his free hand wrapping around your neck. 

He’s close. Too close. Your stomach flips, pushing up on your oesophagus until you choke with the bile that sears its lining. Your breaths are as deep enough as his clutch will allow, index and thumb cutting off the circulation on both sides of your neck.

Ichor blooms from the puncture points at your wrist, the warmth puddling at your palm, not yet heavy enough to drip down onto the floor. You don’t think he realises how deep his claws are, how near he is to scratching bone. You don’t think you do, either. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should, and while you’re sure you’ll regret not prioritising it sooner, you don’t think– Don’t think–

“I-I’m not goi…going home,” You gasp. 

“It’s not up to you, Wraith.” Miguel growls, chokehold loosening.

It hits you, then. Animalic. He smells addictingly animalic. Like musk, a blend of brine and hot air and hints of a patchouli aftershave that still clings to his jaw. Your eyes flutter, seeking all you can get of the latter. Unwittingly, you move in closer. 

You haven’t been this close to anyone in a long time. 

His expression oscillates between a sneer and a grimace, nose pulling up to reveal the very pointed ends of his two canines. Set side by side with plush lips, you zero in on the thought of experiencing the contrast with your own. 

He’s huge. 

Closer. 

Completely overwhelms you, in size and presence and–

Closer. 

Your ribs ache. Your back groans. You’re quickly losing feeling in your fingers, and movement – soon – if you don’t do something. 

Your breath weaves with his. He doesn’t reciprocate when your lips brush, but he doesn’t pull away, either. 

You kiss him for longer than you should. Longer than you need to. It’s firm, and not unlike what you expected. 

(World-shattering, all the same.) 

Your skin prickles. It takes all of your rationale to pull away – dematerializing out of his grasp, and into the portal you’d activated from his wrist.

chapter 2 →

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[moonstruckme]

hi love, i've been doing kind of unwell lately and was wondering if you could write some remus x depressed reader or just comfort in a domestic way in general. been feeling like i suck at doing 'normal' every-day things and only a hug from rem could fix me lol

Hi sweetheart, I'm sorry to hear it :( I hope you're giving yourself a bit of grace and getting support if you can <3

cw: reader is experiencing a depressive period

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 695 words

You realize it must be afternoon when you hear the front door open. The last few days, time seems to drag on without you. Your hours are long and irrelevant, one bleeding into the next without your notice. But you know Remus wasn’t supposed to get back from his work trip until this afternoon. 

Your home is still a mess. You’d thought you’d clean it before he could see, but apparently your shame wasn’t enough to overpower your lethargy. It feels powerful now. 

You close your eyes as Remus comes into the bedroom, but you know what he sees. Despite your best efforts, the curtains aren’t thick enough to block out all light, so there isn’t much to obscure the wrappers littering the floor, the crumbs on the bed, the towel where you’d spilled some water and then been too lazy to finish cleaning it up. You know he’s already witnessed a similar disaster in the kitchen and living room, and yet you feel worse for being found at the center of it in here. 

Remus is silent as he sets down his bag, walks in between trash and other debris, and crawls up onto the bed with you. 

“Hi, lovely,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek with a hand on your shoulder. “I missed you.” 

You start crying. Fat, hot tears that carve down your cheeks with unnatural quietude. You feel anything but lovely right now. 

“Sweetheart.” Remus’ eyebrows come together knowingly. His thumb moves over your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, a choked whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.” 

He hushes you softly, his voice a balm. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, it really is. I promise I don’t mind. Just relax, babydove, everything’s alright. I love you. We’re okay.” 

He lies there with you while your tears slow and stop. It takes a couple of tries, your breaths halting when you try to hold them in, but Remus’ presence is steady and tolerant. His thumb strokes your shoulder until the muscles underneath it relax. 

“We’re okay,” he says again, a reminder. He kisses you, tucking a hand underneath your cheek. “Why didn’t you call and tell me you weren’t feeling well? We could have talked about it, or I could have come home.” 

You lick your bottom lip. The taste of him mixes with the taste of salt. “I didn’t want to bother you—”

“Oi.” It’s not harsh, but the reprimand in his tone isn’t lost entirely to gentleness. Remus holds your face in his hand, looking you in the eyes. “You could never. Understand?” He allows you a brief pause, and his expression softens. “I would always rather know when you’re not feeling well, sweetheart. Even if we’d decided I shouldn’t come home, I could have at least tried to look after you in other ways.” 

You uptilt one side of your mouth half-heartedly. “It wouldn’t have felt fair to have you looking after me from afar when I can’t even look after our place from here.” 

Remus tsks. He kisses you again, an overly generous reward for your poor attempt at humor. “Stop worrying about that,” he chides sweetly, dotting another kiss on your cheek. “I know you convince yourself that I’ll be upset, but I really don’t care. We can tidy up together later, if you’re feeling up to it. I’m not fussed either way.” 

You close your eyes, relinquishing yourself to Remus’ ministrations. He spends a slow minute sweeping his thumb over your cheek, kissing an enigmatic pattern on your face, coasting his hand down from your shoulder to rub your back. Your face presses his hand into your pillow. 

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” he asks softly. 

You hum in response. You would do anything for him; you would try your best. 

“Come sit with me in the kitchen while I make us something to eat?” His lips brush over yours as if to sweeten the deal. “Just to keep me company. I missed you a lot, you know.” 

You kiss him back, tender and light. Your heart hurts; it’s a pleasant ache. “I missed you, too.” 

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 24﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Geto Suguru x F!Reader -> Size Kink

Summary: After returning from your trip, you found out your boyfriend is not okay. Maybe a vacation (To Venice) ;) would help. (Mentions of Deppressed!Suguru, angst, breakdowns, toothrotting fluff and comfort, Satoru being a wonderful best friend, Suguru healing) ❤️‍🩹 Basically hurt-comfort with size!kink 😭

Warnings: Angst, breakdowns, Suguru’s deranged and suc!dal and has murderUrges, Reader (us) comfort him and pull him out from it. Mentions of reader’s breakdowns, cus I mean— 🤷🏻‍♀️ Look at him!!?? Nipple-play, breeding, softsex, sensual, FLUFFY AND NICE AND SUGURU’s so Spoiling towards us it’s just 🙈

A/N: Guys I had sm fun 🥹😵‍💫🩵 writing this I swear!! Hurt-comfort is like my favorite thing in the whole wide world <33 I love to characterize Suguru & to play around with his character. *Screeches and screams* 🍨🍦 I made him yummy thank me later xx Also can we look at the images of him above 🥵 size kink BRRRR

"If you really think, you can do everything, take everything in, save people, and somehow save yourself along with the deceitful thinking that you will protect me. Then you're wrong!" Tears welled up in your eyes, the pain clearly imminent in Suguru's eyes. He looked dead inside, and no mourning was soothing your ache for your older Suguru. You just, missed him beyond beliefs… even when he was right beside you. You hoped he would response to your cry of pain, your bleeding words, but he didn't have it in him anymore. Suguru had almost, given up on himself.

Your hands found themselves clasping onto his collar, pulling him closer to you. "Suguru, look at me, I am telling you something. Can't you fucking see how much it hurts!" You screamed, losing your calm, your temper. It felt ironical to complain to him about how much it's hurting you. You can see he's got it worse; the nights full of terrors and the days full of decaying cursed spirits. You were an empath for your lover, and it was clear staying near him was subjecting you to everything he felt. He doesn't want to see you this way, desperate and hurting…

"I'm sorry, Angel." Suguru sighed, wrecked with the way you burst into tears and hugged him. Voice choking onto sobs as you earnestly tried clutching onto him for dear life. "Sugu, come back to me please come back…" You cried, wailed and eventually dropped onto your knees. The incomprehensible feeling, the heaviness of the things Suguru was going through was making you breathless.

Suguru's heart was only breaking further apart, watching you slowly scrape away in front of him. "I want to kill myself." He finally spoke up, "No, truth is, I want to kill everyone."

This was the first time Suguru was opening up, and no matter how brutal it sounded, his eyes were still kind. Maybe because it was you, in front of him. "You are a sorcerer, too, I shouldn't say this to you, but I hate those monkeys." He radiates pessimism and negativity through him. Yet, you smile a little.

"Come with me, go away with me." You held his hands, squeezing them tightly as if you were grateful they're not cold. You truly were. They were warm, they were still your Suguru's hands.

"Please, Suguru, let's go away for some time." You urged, and he knelt with you, hugging you tightly, not caring about the whimper that escapes you because of his firm grip.

"Running away, won't solve anything." He echoed, and you felt your stomach sink. Soft sniffles echoing in the room as you shook your head like a tantrum-y child.  "No, we will solve everything. You and I, we can solve everything. No matter what it is." You cupped his face, becoming stronger for him. "It's okay to feel like this Suguru, it's okay. I'm here." You nudge, watching his eyes showing signs of at least, some life in them. "Can you, not give up?" You meant on himself, you meant on everything.

To make sure, he understands… you hummed again, "makes me feel like, I'm being abandoned."

Suguru blinked at that, letting your words settle deep within. "Makes me feel like, I'm not even worth fighting for." You looked down, not having the guts to say this to him while making eye-contact. "Please, let's elope somewhere Sugu." You crooned, babying him almost. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth anyway, even if your path is changed." You hum, and with the way your pupils fixated on your hands intertwined, Suguru knows you mean it.

"Okay, maybe… I do need a little get away." Suguru smiled tenderly, partial charm returning to his eyes.

Oh it felt like rain in famine, "Good, thank you, I love you."

"I love you too, my Angel."

---

The next thing was you booking tickets to go to Europe. You urged Satoru and Yaga to not assign any more missions for Suguru. It was hard, you and Suguru were both powerful special grade sorcerers; but hey- you both had Satoru to rely on. "I told you the moment he lost weight, he wasn't doing okay." Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes, tapping at his feet impatiently in the café you decided to meet him in. "What the fuck is up with being the one to hide things?" Satoru was pissed, why would his best friend not communicate? "Makes him feel less of a man?" You chuckle at that, you knew Satoru loved him almost as much as you did. "I've persuaded him to go on a trip with me." "You did?" Satoru was… amazed. These days, Suguru wasn't even joining in for any normal outings. Wasn't going out of his house for weeks, wasn't even meeting you. Things worsened when you left to Korea for a mission longer than 3 weeks. You had to stay there for some Jujutsu School Collaboration initiative. That's when Suguru was off his leash, truly at his worst. Taking missions more than he should, succumbing to the darkness of his mind and the curses.

"Just, want you to handle things while we're gone." You sipped onto the iced frappe you've ordered. Meanwhile Satoru ate a mochi, seemingly absent-minded and bored. "You don't have to worry about that, you know I'd do that in a heartbeat for him." He bratted, raising a brow at you. "And you…"

You smiled at that, nodding gently. It felt good to have the 'Strongest' so whipped for your boyfriend, and platonically you, as well.

The higher-ups posed a threat, as always. 'Why is Suguru Geto not on missions?' ; 'Did he get off the job of a Sorcerer?' especially the cunt-faced Principal of Kyoto. You and Satoru personally paid him a disrespectful visit at his school. Nothing he can complain against, wouldn't sit well to anger two special grades, will it? Despite showing that the Sorcerer world is only filled with people who are willing to take on the role- example: Nanami switching from corporate jobs to a sorcerer job… it was still, at the end, a disgusting, foul powerplay hidden beneath shackles of rules. If you are a special grade sorcerer, they'd do anything to hold on to you. Even blackmails are not far off the list. Emotionally draining…

---

"I have booked us a flight to Venice, baby." You sat cross legged on the swing chair Suguru's house has, fondling with your iPad and searching for hotel venues. "Venice huh." Suguru was still numbed, but at least, not he couldn't avoid you because practically you lived with him now. "Yeah, we can go to Switzerland, and also wherever you want. I hear Germany this time of the year is beautiful." You croaked excitedly, swaying your legs as he walked towards you, sitting on the chair in front of you. "Satoru told me you and I are on a vacation for months." He came directly on the point. "The trip isn't that long, is it?" He manspreaded, raising a brow.

You gulped, smiling softly, the last thing you need is him feeling 'weak'. You had to approach this carefully. "Suguru, I think you and I have done enough missions for a while. I want us to spend some time together, to ourselves." You added some degree of truth, "Also, I don't want you to keep eating curses and letting them eat you from the inside and I don't want to lose the person I love the most in my fucking life." With the way you affirmatively snapped, there was no way, Suguru would battle against it. A soft nod was all you got as a response.

"Alright, I will handle the packing. Don't want you screeching like a wild animal when you discover you forgot your charger." He leaned in, giving you a chaste peck & you giggled. "Of course."

---

The packing, the preparations, the dressing up and going to the Airport, the flight where you slept leaned against his shoulder. All went by in a tender haze of beautiful memories. Inflicted and infected by his sadness, still. Though you wouldn't mind. You're ready to accept him rotten if needed.

When you two reached Venice, the Victorian style hotel with the boats and the beautiful lakes was in fact, refreshing for him; and you. You knew it because Suguru had stopped going to your shared balcony of the house, now here he was, standing there, observing the people. The couples giggling and kissing each other, the boat rowers singing in their native Italian language, the streets with so much hustle and bustle… yet calming. You hugged him from behind, breathing in his scent. "Like it?" "Love it, my beautiful baby." He crooned back, turning towards you and pulling you closer to him by your hips. "I love you." He chanted, almost in a way that he used to when he first asked you out. These past few months were hard and rough, but if you were able to have him back, even infinitely slowly… you'd dedicate it to eradicating all his sadness.

"If you want, I can dress very Lana Del Rey today and we could make steamy love." You giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly. Suguru and you… yeah, haven't made love in a while. You'd never push him when he isn't feeling it, and naturally, someone who's suffering so much would have it at the last thing on his mind.

"You're right, how disappointing of me… I don't remember the last time I treated you, I worshipped you." He thought out loud, and you pouted. "It's okay Suguru, don't think about it like that. Think about how you're gonna make it up to me." You stuck your tongue out, giggling.

It's the way he looks at you, like he's starving and you're delectable. It's the way his eyes are loud enough with their projection of love that it quiets the world down for you. It's the way Suguru Geto breathes, that makes you love him so much you'd break.

Right now, he's doing the same thing… being himself. Hands wandering to your sides and helping you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked towards the shared bedroom of the hotel. Leaning in and kissing you passionately, shoving his tongue just to show how much he's been deeply yearning. Admiration coated in every action. "So lucked out that I have you." He smiled to himself, kissing your forehead deeply once you were nestled into the succumbing softness of the mattress.

"Same," you grin back, watching him undress you with his eyes first, and then his hands followed. You mimicked the same movements.

"I can't handle the fucking hotness!" You whined, once he was left in his pants, upper body naked for you to devour. Suguru chuckled, heat rushing through his cheeks and core as he cupped your face, kissing you once again.

The thing about you and him is, Suguru is big. He's built like a bulky man. Stretched to 6'3'', broad shoulders that'd hold two of you, hands big enough you miss almost an inch if you were to compare his with yours. Yeah, Suguru was big and you were tiny. Something that only aided to you being subbier and smaller to him. Letting him manhandle and take all the control that he wants to.

"Who do you belong to, darling?" He cooed, watching you instantly answer. "You, forever and always."

It warms his heart when he hears that, spreading your damp pussy lips with his fingers and thrusting a finger into you. It's been… long. He knows it with the way you're clamping for dear life, just on his digit. "Sh-i-t," You croak out, while Suguru hushed you with a soft kiss, slowly moving his finger in and out of your pussy. Once he felt you had accepted his finger's girth, he inserted another one. "AH god-" You whined, mewling at the delicious stretch of his thick and long fingers being coated with your essence. "You want to make sweet love and you're so worked up with the fingers alone." He chuckled to himself, stretching you out so good, curling them against the familiar sensitive spot.

Your back arched, the way your pussy clamped as if she was a slave to his hands and cock.

"Oh she's close." He cooed, "Go on, cum for me then I can ruin you with me." He kissed your pelvis, holding it down as your orgasm raked through you, approaching fiercely and shuddering your body against him as waves of pleasure took over you. "Good girl. Good little girl." Suguru praised, riding it out for you. Once the orgasm's high settled, Suguru took out his fingers and suckled onto them, eyes never leaving yours.

"Want you, so bad!" You gasped out, pulling him closer to you by wrapping your legs around him, feeling the imprint of his cock into you. "Alright alright, impatient little girl." He smirks, pushing the tip of his pre-leaking cock into you in one swift stroke. Mean, Suguru Geto is mean sometimes… especially when he wants you to be scream at the stretch only he can give you. No one else, he wants your pussy to know only how he feels. Damn he's big, and when he pushes himself balls deep, your pussy is strained beyond its limit. "Shit- s- so big Sugu." You whimper out, tearing up at the ache.

"Ssh, it's okay darling. I'm still. Adjust to me, go on." Suguru patiently waits, kissing your face all over, leaning in and kissing your breasts, suckling onto your nipples while you clamped and waited for the pain to settle in.

"Move, please…" You glance at him now, doe-eyed and insatiable.

"Of course, took you some time to adjust to me huh? Tiny little baby." He smiles, thrusting into you without relent. Your womb stops him from going in any further, your insides torn apart deliciously at the feeling of being ploughed by him. "Oh- G- oh God," words fail you, the air choked out of your lungs with how good it hurts, with how pleasureful it feels.

Suguru's hand laced around your pelvis, pressing on it gently. "Got you," He smirks cockily, holding your hand and keeping it on your pelvis, enveloped by his own as he pressed.

A shrill scream filled the room, "Oh you can sense it, can't you sweetheart? Sense how deep I reach?" You moan at the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you hopelessly nodded. Gasping and choking on air. "God yes, Sugu- AH please- oh my- g'nna," You whimpered, while Suguru was at a rhythmic pace now. Sometimes pulling all the way out and pushing back all the way in. He loved seeing you walk the rope between pleasure and pain.

"Good girl, with the way you're holding onto me, I can sense you're close." Suguru hummed, grounding you with his kisses, his spoiled little praises.

"Go on, show me how much you missed me."

"Just like (thrust) I (thrust) missed (thrust) this (thrust) pussy-" Suguru toppled off the edge right with you, painting your insides white with his warmth. "Oh god- fuck-"

You shudder, spasming around his cock and milking him further.

"That's it, I got you. I got you." Suguru reminded, leaning in and kissing you softly, tenderly, as if you'd break if he were to touch you wrong.

"I missed you, I missed this." He mused to himself, blushing a little at the sight of you fucked out and half-lidded. You nodded, still taking ragged breaths. "I love you"

"I love you too, Angel."

[joostsblog]

Omg hi your writing is so so good!! So I just saw the new photos of Joost (with his broken phone etc) and I thought of a new story… can you maybe write something where Joost trips and has some small injuries like a scraped knee and elbow etc, and reader takes care of him??

I loooooove this! I also noticed that there's a red spot on his knee so I wondered if he actually fell down or something

kiss it better ~ joost klein one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A bloody scratch on your crush Joost's knee turns into an interesting opportunity for you.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: You already know, it's another friends to lovers one shot, i'm a sucker for those. I hope you like it, if you do pls show your support by reblogging ❣️❣️ send in requests i'm having fun with this! 💌

Warnings: blood, not proofread

Joost had always been clumsy. His drink accidentally slipping out of his fingers when grabbing it. Bumping into a corner when he just told a funny anecdote to his friends. You could even say that the way Joost stumbled into your heart was clumsy. Because he definitely didn't mean to do it, after all, you were just one of his friends. But there he was, definitely not leaving anytime soon - that you were sure of.

Your strategy for dealing with your uncurable crush on your friend was definitely unique. You and Joost were known within your friend group for being ultra-affectionate and flirty to one another. Always alternating between bickering and jokingly complimenting each other. Always making a joke out of every hug and touch you shared.

"Go get a room already," Apson would occasionally say with a roll of the eye and you both would laugh along but secretly you would wish that you could tell Joost about your crush earnestly. Instead, you hid it away under layers of jokes.

Right now you were watching Joost as you and your friends wandered through the streets of Vancouver. You were laughing as Joost walked backwards in front of you, his arms gesturing around wildly as he talked about an idea he had for a music video. You watched his steps intently as you already noticed this to be a risky situation for the clumsy man. You breathed a sigh of relief as Joost dropped the antics and decided to turn around to walk normally again. But as he did, you could only watch as he tripped over the seam of his long pants and fell on the concrete.

"Oh shit," your friends around you exclaimed. "Jooooost," they started to laugh as they realised that he must be not seriously hurt.

Joost sat down on the pavement, his legs bent at an angle and his hands behind him to prop himself up. You kneeled down between his legs to check on him.

"Are you alright?" you asked concerned.

"Yeah," Joost tried to press out a convincing laugh but you could see in his eyes that he must be either hurt or embarrassed by his fall - or maybe a mix of both. When you looked Joost in the eyes you saw him evading your gaze and for a second you were scared that he might start crying. You were glad that your friends didn't seem to pay much attention to the both of you since it was no news to see you lost in your own little world.

"Are you hurt? Let me see," you said and tried your best to be comforting for Joost.

Joost looked down at his hands to inspect them and you noticed a few scratches on one of his fingers. The phone he was holding in his hand was also shattered since Joost didn't use any protective phone cases.

"It's fine," Joost said unconvincingly.

"No, that sucks," you reaffirmed his feelings and softly touched his knee. Joost winced with a smile and you looked down to where your hand just touched. A small spot of red was bleeding through Joost's jeans where he must have scratched his knee during the fall. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said, instead caressing the side of his knee now. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" you said cheekily, right back with your flirty banter you two were so well accustomed to.

"Are you taking the piss out of me?" Joost asked with a pout.

"No, never," you tried to reassure him. "I'm serious," you said and reached into your bag to pull out a pack of tissues. You grabbed the bottom seam of Joost's jeans and looked at him for confirmation before he nodded. Your friends were still not paying much attention to you down on the floor as they instead talked and joked among themselves. You pulled Joost's jeans up until his bleeding knee was exposed. Using one of the tissues you carefully dabbed at the wound to remove the blood. Joost winced at the contact again. "I'm sorry," you said as you were finished.

After one moment of hesitation, you leaned down and pressed a light kiss on the skin of Joost's knee just above the scratch. You looked at Joost and saw a shy smile creeping up on his face so you decided to leave three other kisses on his knee for good measure.

"Better?" you asked.

"Yes, so much better," he said grinning.

"Is there anywhere else you're hurting?" you asked, feeling courageous.

"Here," Joost said and showed you the scratch on his hand which you had inspected earlier.

You carefully took his hand into yours and also cleaned off the blood using the tissue. Joost's hand wrapped around yours as you pulled it towards you until you also pressed a few gentle kisses around the fresh wound.

"Anywhere else?" you asked as you looked at Joost.

"Here," he said quietly and pointed to his lips. Your heart started racing.

"I don't see any scratches there," you teased. You wished you were alone in this moment and nobody would be here to see or interrupt.

"But I'm hurting," Joost said with a pout and you smiled.

Fuck it, you thought.

You leaned forward and cupped his cheek with one of your hands. Joost rested one hand on your waist. You made sure to plant the most gentle, sweetest and loving kiss on Joost's lips. As you leaned back again you both looked at each other and you wondered if this was one of those times when you would show each other affection or say something sickly sweet about the other person under the guise of it just being a joke. Something in Joost's eyes gave you the feeling that this might be different actually, that the both of you were earnest this time. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you decided to go in for another kiss, a second kiss you definitely couldn't play up for laughs anymore. It was longer and deeper and you could feel Joost leaning into you.

"Hey, look at Joost and (Y/N)!" Apson shouted in delight as your friends finally noticed what the two of you were up to.

You pulled away from Joost who looked at you biting down on his lips to hide a grin. You offer your hand to Joost as you get up and help him get up as well. The both of you just ignored the bickering around you as your friends tried to pry into what just happened. Instead, you just continued your path down to wherever you were going anyway. As you walk beside each other you take notice that Joost never let go of your hand, still firmly fitting around yours.

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?

Leads to smut (0u0")

Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!

This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹

A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.

Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 2

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

--

Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.

Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.

His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.

She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.

". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.

He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.

Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.

She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.

She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.

He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.

". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.

Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"

Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.

After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.

"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.

Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.

~Three Days Later~

He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.

His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.

But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.

But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.

Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.

~Y/n pov~

I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.

He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.

He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .

He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.

But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.

He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?

I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.

"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.

I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.

I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.

I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.

Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.

"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.

"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.

He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.

~~~

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.

He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.

"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.

My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.

But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.

His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.

After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.

"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.

He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.

My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.

My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.

It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.

His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."

Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.

_____________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!

[midnightstar-90]

A Damsel In Distress

Georgie Cooper x Fem! Reader Taglist | Request | Wattpad Main Masterlist | Other Actors/Characters Masterlist Requested Anonymously: "Hi, i was wondering if you could do Georgie cooper x reader who has an abusive father or smt and he helps her, tries to get her to move in with him to his family house and after his begging for weeks she finally agrees? Thank you if you do." Summary: When Georgie finds you on his porch bleeding and bruised, he finds the need to avenge you. Warnings: Abuse, Slut Shaming, Angst, Protective! Georgie, Not Proofread Words: 2.4K

Georgie Cooper may not be the smartest man alive, but when it came to the people he loved, he was protective of them. So when you showed up at the Cooper residence all beaten up, you were nervous.

About a year ago, your dad lost his job and ended up spending his days and nights drinking his life away. Since then, he'd found a new job, but the drinking never stopped.

As time went by, drinking led to harmless fits of rage to you and your mother hiding away in a room until your father fell asleep. Trying your best to get away from your father, you joined after-school clubs and helped tutor kids.

That's how you met Georgie.

Georgie was failing almost half of his classes, and if he wanted to stay on the football team, he had to get his F's to at least a C. So, he asked around, and everyone he talked to said that besides Sheldon, you were the one to go to. And he did.

Surprisingly enough, you and Georgie got along. The two of you worked hard, and as his grades got to where he needed them, you still kept in touch. You would have lunch with him and his friends, and sometimes join him at the movies. You two even became each other's wingman, with him giving you advice on boys and you vice versa.

All was good until the day you allowed Georgie to walk you home. Being the gentleman he was, Georgie walked you home every day, but the home he was walking you to was actually a few blocks down from your own. You told him that was your house because you didn't want to risk your father finding out that you were friends with a guy.

But today was different. You and Georgie had just left the movies and you both couldn't stop talking about it on your journey home.

"Did you see that alien?" Georgie laughed.

"Yes, oh my goodness. When it first came onto the screen I was so scared," You said, with a soft laugh.

Georgie looked over at you. Still holding the theater popcorn, he popped a handful into his mouth and began making weird creature sounds, which startled you a bit. You jumped and released a scream.

Georgie laughed harder than before and shook his head. "It's so easy," he said, talking about how easy it was to scare you. You teasingly punched him with a long grin before grabbing some popcorn.

Unknowingly, you and Georgie had passed up the house you had told him was your house and were quickly making your way to your actual home.

When you arrived at your house, your smile was gone as you quickly realized your mistake.

"Oh, dang it!" Georgie said, flinging his arms in the air in disappointment. "We passed your house."

You worriedly looked at the door to your house, ignoring the boy next to you. "You should go," you told Georgie as you noticed the living room curtains abruptly shut.

"What?" Georgie asked, confused.

Georgie looked over at you to see that the playful smile that you once wore was replaced with a sunken frown and a look of fear in your eyes. He followed your line of sight to see your home.

"Y/N, this isn't your home. I'm not leaving you to walk the streets alone at night."

Your lip quivered as you continued to stare at the window. "Georgie, go home," you muttered, but Georgie just shook his head.

"Y/N, what's going on. This-"

"This is my home, Georgie! Now please... leave."

Your fear overwhelmed you as you watched a dark figure walk past the window. Georgie looked back at you confused. He knew you wouldn't move until he left, so even though he didn't want to, he did as he was told and left.

He turned and left, only looking back when he got to the end of the street. He looked back and watched as you entered the dark house. An uneasy feeling washed over Georgie, but he continued home, waiting till tomorrow to ask his questions.

———

Georgie had only been home an hour when he heard the doorbell. He ignored the door and continued reading his magazine. He questioned who would be coming over at 10 o'clock at night. His door was cracked open as he heard his mother answer the door.

"Y/N?" he heard his mother ask, slightly worried, making his head poke up from behind his magazine. Georgie slowly stood from his bed as he wondered why you would be here after he left you at what was actually your home.

Georgie walked into the living room and froze.

You stood at the door with messed up hair, a black eye, and ripped-up clothes. Your eyes met his, and suddenly, he understood why you were so scared, earlier.

"Y/N?" Georgie called out your name as he walked over to you. You were shaking, which Mary had quickly noticed.

"Here... let's get you out of the cold and inside." Mary softly grabbed your arm and moved you into their home before closing the door. She led you to the couch and Georgie followed close behind you.

"George!" Mary called out for her husband.

A few seconds later a slightly annoyed George Cooper exited his room. "What," he said, a bit aggressively, causing Y/N to flinch.

"Oh dear," Mary said after seeing Y/N's reaction. "George, grab the first aid kit. I'm gonna put some soup on."

"Why?" George said, confused, stepping into the living room. His eyes shifted from his wife to the figure on the couch. He moved closer to get a better look at who was on the couch. When he saw it was Y/N, George was in shock. "Y/N? What happened?"

"I would like to know that as well," Georgie said, standing behind his parents with his arms crossed. He kept his gaze strictly on Y/N. Georgie was angry. Not at Y/N, but at whoever did this.

"Yes, I would like to know that as well, but can we at least stitch her up first," Mary said before leaving for the kitchen.

"Oh, right," George agreed, leaving to grab the first aid.

With his parents gone, Georgie took the opportunity to talk to you alone. He slowly stepped forward, joining you on the couch. Georgie opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, you laid your head on his shoulder as you silently cried.

"Who did this to you?" Georgie asked in a soft tone.

On the outside, Georgie was prepared to do whatever to help you feel better, but on the inside, Georgie was angry. He wanted to kill whoever did this to you. You were everything to Georgie. If he could, he'd give you the world.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before answering the boy. "My dad," you whispered. Your cries became louder, making Georgie tense up. Unsure what to do, he placed a loving kiss on your forehead and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

He did this for a few minutes before George came back with the first aid kit and a wet cloth.

"Okay. It took me a second, but I finally found it," George said, kneeling down in front of you. "Mind telling us what happened?" George asked, as he grabbed her arm and started wiping off the blood.

You hesitated. Just thinking about what happened brought you into a spiral. But Georgie quickly calmed you down by calmly running his fingers through your hair, trying to fix what your dad messed up.

"My dad is an alcoholic," you started. "He has been for a year. And it wasn't until recently that he started getting... physical."

"Your dad did this?" George asked. You nodded, and George went back to cleaning you up.

Mary soon came into the room with a bowl of soup. "Here you go, darling?" She placed the bowl on the side table and stood next to her kneeling husband.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cooper," you gave her a small smile, before continuing. "Anyways, I started joining after-school activities to get away from all the chaos. That's how I met Georgie."

"Wait. So this has been going on since before you met Georgie," Mary asked with a frown. You nodded.

"I didn't want Georgie to get hurt. So, when he asked if he could walk me home, I told him a fake address, so my father wouldn't see him. But today, the night got ahead of us and we passed the house we were supposed to stop at."

Georgie was livid. You were so scared of your father that you lied to protect him. No one should have to avoid their own home.

"We stopped in front of my house, and my father saw."

You paused and suddenly, more tears started flooding your eyes. You tried to speak, but your throat felt tight. Georgie rubbed your back and calmly waited. It took you a minute, but you were finally able to talk again.

"I made sure Georgie left before going into the house, where I knew he was waiting for me. My dad can be unpredictable when he drinks and I didn't want him to attack Georgie."

You wiped your eyes as you kept your gaze down toward your lap.

"When I entered he was just sitting there in the dark... Waiting. When he started talking to me, I knew by his soft voice that I would be in trouble, so I did exactly as he said and answered all his questions truthfully."

You paused, taking a deep breath.

"He grabbed me by the throat and called me a "slut". But it didn't stop there..."

"Oh, lord," Mary muttered to herself.

"When he finally let go of me, he punched me so hard that I fell to the ground. Then he climbed on top of me and began to rip up my clothes. He said that if I was going to be a slut, then I needed to look the part. As he tore up my clothes, I could feel his nails ripping into my skin, hence the scratches."

You paused again, sobbing into your hand.

It took everything in Georgie not to go to your house and teach your father a lesson about treating girls, especially daughters, but he kept his composure.

"I tried to scream for help, but no one came. I saw my mom standing in the doorway, but she didn't do anything. She just stood there... watching. When my dad was done, he dragged me out of the house and locked me out. That's when I decided to come here."

"Oh, you poor thing," Mary frowned with a hand over her chest. She moved toward you and pulled you out of Georgie's arms and into hers. She held you tight as you sobbed loudly against her shirt.

"It's really terrible that you had to go through all that. You don't deserve that. No one does," George said, throwing in his two cents.

Georgie stood from his spot on the couch. "I wanna kill him!" Georgie said, making his way to the door, but he was quickly stopped by his father's grip on his arm. "We're not killing anybody," George said, but that didn't stop Georgie from wanting to go over to your house and beat the living daylights out of your father.

"I think it's been a long night for all of us, so we should all get some sleep. I'm gonna grab some blankets. Georgie, you want to help get the couch ready?" Mary asked, giving you a smile.

"Actually, can I sleep with Georgie? I don't feel comfortable being alone."

Mary was unsure if letting you sleep with Georgie was the right move. She looked over at George, who just shrugged, and then back at you. You looked so sad, and Mary just couldn't say no to someone who's been through all that.

She nodded and sent you another sad smile, which you thankfully returned. "Georgie, take Y/N to your room, and i'll be in their soon with some spare pajamas and blankets. I want to talk to your dad about something."

Georgie's eyes widened, "You aren't seriously thinking about sending her back there, are you?"

Mary was taken aback by her son's outburst. "No," she shook her head. "No, I would never say that. Just go help Y/N so your father and I can talk alone."

Georgie let out a huff, not in the mood to go back and forth with his mother. "Come on, Y/N," He beckoned you to follow him, and you did just that without any hesitation.

———

You entered Georgie's room and made a quick B-line to his bed. You carefully removed your shoes and lay down. It was safe to say that after the night you had, you were exhausted.

"I know it's a mess, but I wasn't exactly expecting company," Georgie said from across the room. He picked up some of his clothes from off the floor and threw them into an empty hamper. When he was done, he turned to see you knocked out on his bed.

Someone knocked at Georgie's door, making him flinch before turning to see who it was. Mary stood at the door, still wearing that same smile from earlier as she held onto a folded blanket and nightgown.

"I just came to drop these off," Mary spoke in a slightly hushed tone.

"I think you're a bit late for that," Georgie responded, pointing back at you as you slept soundly in his bed.

Mary nodded. "Okay, then I will just leave these right here," she placed the folded blanket and piece of clothing on the corner of the bed next to the bed.

"Thanks, Mom," Georgie smiled, making Mary's smile grow wider.

"No problem, honey," she said before making her way out of the room.

With his mom gone and you sleep, Georgie quickly got ready for bed and joined you. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I swear. Next time someone even thinks about hurting you, I won't hesitate to kill 'em." Georgie knew no one was listening, but he still continued express his feelings toward you.

"I love you," he said to you, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead before turning off the lights and falling asleep.

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[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

-

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets. 

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think. 

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body. 

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew. 

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

-

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year. 

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand. 

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

-

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works. 

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?” 

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place. 

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did. 

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter. 

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face. 

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation. 

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

-

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

-

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks. 

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls. 

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to. 

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine. 

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her? 

Will she even let you?

-

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment. 

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt. 

He has always been all she has and needed. 

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

-

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

-

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing. 

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard. 

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control. 

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

-

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

-

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class. 

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even. 

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls. 

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug. 

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully. 

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice. 

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up. 

“Have it your way.”

-

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers. 

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit. 

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does. 

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you. 

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance. 

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

-

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt. 

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

[justnatoka]

Haunted

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: This started as a drabble. Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: mention of injury

Prompt: "I'm pretty sure it was a ghost." / "I'm pretty sure it's not." / "Oh really?" / "Ghosts don't bleed."

Summary: After days of running you finally find shelter, both literally and figuratively.

Your panting filled the silence of the empty room, echoing back from the walls of the run down house you were hiding in. It was clear it has been standing abandoned for many years, decay and nature slowly sneaking in through the cracks and taking over. Lucky for you, one of the windows in the back was shattered, probably adventurous teens exploring the place since the door has been boarded up. It was a good enough hiding place for now.

A wave of pain shot through your shoulder as you tried to find a more comfortable seating position against the wall of the kitchen, a nice reminder that you weren’t out of the woods yet. You had been running for days, your body growing more and more exhausted. It looked like you finally managed to lose the hunter chasing you, at least for now. Hopefully, you can spend the day here sleeping.

The next big problem was your shoulder. You had no idea what he shot you with, but it wasn’t healing, not like you usually do. You were more resilient than humans of course, but if you didn’t find some help and soon, you would bleed out.

As you were thinking through your options, trying not to lose yourself to the fear gripping your lungs like a vice at your hopeless predicament, you heard gravel crunch outside. You were instantly on alert, quieting down your breathing, fight or flight taking over once again. You got ready to run if need be. It was possible that it was just some critter scurrying away in the dark, you thought, but then the sound came again and it was clearly something bigger, walking on two feet. As they got closer, you could make out three, four different pair of footsteps. It was not your pursuer, but that didn’t mean they were friendly. In your current state, you didn’t want to risk getting into an altercation with four people, even if they were just ordinary humans. Finally, you could hear them talking too.

“You think it’s haunted?”

“What’s the matter, Paul? Are you chicken?”

“Shut up, Marko. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Oh, really? Then why don’t you go in first?”

“I will! I’ll show you!”

You heard wood splintering, and it became clear that they were ripping off the wooden planks from the door.

“It looks like no one has been here for a while. I wonder why the humans avoid it so much.” It was a calmer voice that spoke up next, and your brain subconsciously picked up on his word choice.

‘Humans’? Is it possible…?

“I heard that there has been a murder. A man slaughtered his entire family. They probably think it’s cursed.” This one sounded amused, like he was laughing at the fear of others.

“You hear that, Paulie? It’s definitely haunted.”

“Man, shut up!”

They finished dismantling the barricade and the front door swung open with a loud creek. You didn’t take your eyes off the opening connecting the kitchen to the hallway, just a few doors down from the main entrance. As you were slowly and silently backing up to another door behind you, leading to the living room with the broken window, your only escape route, you bumped into a small dresser. To your horror, a glass tipped over and shattered on the floor. Your senses were probably dulled from exhaustion, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake.

“What was that?”

“Maybe it was a ghost. Let’s go and say hi.”

The footsteps approached and you quickly turned the corner into the living room, just in time to hear them step into the kitchen. They were too close. Then you heard a high-pitched screech, and someone fell over laughing.

“What the hell, Marko? Not cool, man, not cool! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You should have seen your face! Ow! Stop punching me!”

“What’s going on, boys?” The other two arrived to the kitchen as well.

“That glass broke, and I think I saw something move through that door over there. I’m pretty sure it was a ghost.” The voice belonging to ‘Paul’ said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” It was the calm one this time.

“Oh really? How do you know, Dwayne?”

“Ghosts don’t bleed.”

Silence. Shit. Some of your blood was probably smeared on the wall you were leaning against earlier. You eyed the window. If you could make it there and get outside, the way is clear to the tree line. You can hide in the woods. But if you make a run for it, they would definitely hear it. Oh well, it’s not like you had anything to lose. You glanced back one more time towards the door to the kitchen before quickly turning around to bolt. You didn’t even make it two steps before bumping into something solid and someone grabbed hold of your arms. You panicked, clawing and scratching and hitting any surface you could reach, struggling and hissing, but you couldn’t overpower them. Myriad thoughts were running through your terrified brain. How is this possible? Why can’t I get free? I’m injured and exhausted, but I should still be stronger than an ordinary human. What are they going to do to me? Is this where I die?

“Look what we have here, boys,” came an amused voice from above you, and as you looked up, you stared into the striking blue eyes of the stranger. You quickly took in the scruffy face and the bleached blond mullet before trying to get away once again. You could sense the others stepping into the room behind you. You were surrounded. In your last desperate attempt you vamped out, baring your sharp teeth and hissing in the stranger’s face. His expression changed instantly, the smirk melting off his face. But instead of jerking away from you in fear, his brows furrowed, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“They are one of us,” you heard from behind. The man holding your arms was looking you over more carefully now, his scowl deepening at the sight of your frantic eyes and torn clothes, gaze immediately drawn to your wounded shoulder, still oozing blood through your shirt. His eyes finally met yours once again, now full of concern and, to your amazement, glowing yellow in the dark.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” His voice was so gentle. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and slowly running down your cheeks as you collapsed in his arms, relief flooding your body. They were like you. They can help you. You’re finally safe. The word safe ran through your head over and over again. He wrapped you up in his arms, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting you cry into his shoulder.

After your sobs quietened down, he led you over to the beaten up old couch, letting go of you in the process, but staying close. As you wiped the tears from your eyes, your vision becoming clearer, you saw three guys standing over you, all of them full of genuine concern. The one next to you spoke up again.

“I’m David, and this is my pack,” he motioned to the others. One of them, a blond with a friendly smile sat down on your other side.

“I’m Paul, this is Marko,” the one with the colorful jacket and curly hair waved, ”and the big, brooding fella is Dwayne.” He nodded at you in greeting. “What’s your name, dollface?” You muttered out your name, voice still thick from crying. Paul’s smile brightened, immediately making you at ease, your body finally starting to relax.

“What happened to you?” It was David who spoke up again, his voice somber and his face serious.

“Hunter,” you whispered out and they went rigid. You continued. “He’s been chasing me for days. I finally managed to lose him a few towns over, then I found this place. I thought I can hide here for a bit, get some sleep.” Your hand went to your shoulder, their eyes following the movement. “He shot me with something two days ago. I don’t know what it was, but I’m not healing.”

Paul drew in a sharp breath beside you, and you could see from the corner of your eyes as Marko started pacing around, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. His steps echoed loudly in the silence following your admission.

“What do we do now?” Dwayne asked, his gaze full of determination.

David looked straight at you, his voice calm as he started speaking, but his eyes echoed the same sentiment you saw in all of them. They were not going to let anything happen to you.

“We’re taking you to Max, our sire. He will figure it out what you were shot with and how to deal with it.” He softened a bit as he added. “You’re safe. You’re one of us now.”

This brought fresh tears to your eyes and for the first time in many days, a smile tugged up the corner of your lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.

As you moved to stand up, your legs gave out. Your body has been running on pure adrenaline for a while, not being able to feed while being chased, and it looked like it finally has caught up to you. Before you could collapse to the floor, steady hands took hold of you and you were hoisted from the ground. Looking up, you were met with Dwayne’s warm brown eyes.

“You can rest now,” he said, sending you a small smile as he carried you out the front door, away from the house, away from the fear and desperation. Listening to the murmuring of the others talking, exhaustion finally took you over, resting your head against Dwayne’s solid chest, his steps lulling you to sleep. The future looked just a little bit brighter.

[joelmama]

The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot

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

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

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

Ao3 Link

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

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

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

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

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

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

It never came.

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

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

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

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

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

Her father had found her a suitor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded. 

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

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

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

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

A very strange wedding indeed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.

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

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

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

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

“Welcome home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

Joel.

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

She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a sight to behold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he was not expecting this. Not at all. 

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

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

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

Busted. 

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back and forth. Back and forth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a picture.

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t.” He snapped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

It was a bit frustrating to say the least. 

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

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

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

It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.

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

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

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

Would she ever get what she was hoping for?

Maybe she could, if she was brave enough. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?” He inquired. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or at least until he returns home.

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

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

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

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

But it didn’t help.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And as it turned out, eventually he would.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three days came and went.

Joel had yet to return home. 

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

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

She was eating her words now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His name fell desperately from her lips. 

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

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

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

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

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

She didn’t seem to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

Joel was up before the sun.

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

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

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

Y/N.

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

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

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

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

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

Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life. 

This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..

And he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 

Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.  

For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world. 

He had to get out of this bed. 

Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth. 

Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.

~

To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.

That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay. 

She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work. 

Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time. 

Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.

And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town. 

But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape. 

Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.

Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?

She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks. 

She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it. 

It was love.

And it hit her like a ton of bricks. 

Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying. 

Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.

Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!

The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.

~

Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.

He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.

A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.

But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.

He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.

The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.

It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?

Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.

“Joel?”

His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.

“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.

“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.

“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”

“Why?” 

She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips. 

“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.

Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair. 

“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.

“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”

His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man.  As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer. 

Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.

“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.

Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.

“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.

“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.

“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.

“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”

As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.

“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.

“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”

“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”

“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss. 

It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.

“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.

“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”

His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.

“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.

“Me too.”

And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for. 

Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.

“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch. 

“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.

His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin. 

Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.

Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed. 

Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing. 

She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.

“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.” 

Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.

He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”

A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.

He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.  

“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”

Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.

“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.” 

“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next. 

And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same. 

He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.

The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.

He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.

Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness. 

She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt. 

All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.

“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal. 

“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds. 

“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.

“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.

“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties. 

“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.

“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core. 

“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself. 

They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.

“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare. 

“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her. 

He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.

“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”

An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.

“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”

“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.

“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”

“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.

“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.

“Yes.” She said, her voice small.

Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.

“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.

“Will it hurt?” 

“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her. 

“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady. 

“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.

“As you wish.”  He replied, in the same hushed tone.

Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time. 

His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment. 

Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.

Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it. 

And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her. 

Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle. 

“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.

“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.

Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.

Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.

His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.

That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end. 

Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky. 

“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back. 

“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man. 

“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair. 

Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 

“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.

“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.

“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said. 

“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.

“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”

“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.” 

A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.

Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.

And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.

Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.

A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him. 

“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.

“Really?” She squeaked.

“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.

He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.

She gasped at the sight of it.

His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal. 

And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.

Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches. 

She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation. 

Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.

“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.

“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered,  “‘m only returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”

“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip. 

“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.

She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her. 

Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.

Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.

“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”

And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here. 

“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment. 

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there. 

“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”

“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.

Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips. 

“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.

Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation. 

“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.

Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.

She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.

“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.

Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel. 

“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.

“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.

“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”

“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach. 

Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock. 

She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.

“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”

“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing. 

“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”

Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.

“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”

“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”

And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.

Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.

The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to. 

The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching. 

His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo. 

Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.

“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.

Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.

Except for one thing.

“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.

Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.

He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.

Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife. 

His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest—  not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.

“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.

They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.

“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.

“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.

“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.

“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him

“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.

“We still have to make dinner.”

And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name. 

~~~

A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Fourteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 22.3k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

HELLOOOO BESTIES!!! I'm so so so excited to share this update with you all. We've got the angst, the fluff, the feels, the conflict, and... SMUT! I've worked really hard on this update, and I'd love to know what you all think 🥺 Thank you for supporting me, sending me wonderful messages, and HAPPY ONE YEAR OF TROUVAILLE AHHHH!!!! 💕💕

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Much love from Dana, enjoy!!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek raw, gawking stupidly at Seokjin and Hannah tearfully embracing several feet away. The moment felt so private, so intimate, that every instinct in Y/N’s body was screaming at her to look away or bolt back to her car. Under the awkwardness she was feeling, itchy envy was crawling all over her skin, the sherpa coat she was wearing beginning to feel stiflingly hot. 

She watched as Hannah gracefully touched her feet back to the ground, the cat hybrid’s hands frantically roaming over the front of Seokjin’s lavender puffer jacket, her light eyebrows pulled together, almost as if she was checking to make sure Seokjin was truly in front of her. 

“You were bleeding…” Hannah murmured, Y/N realizing that she was probably trying to find lingering injuries from the Cirque Mystique incident many months ago. “I thought you were…”

Seokjin grasped at Hannah’s wrists gently to halt her hands from tracking all over his coat, a look of regret on his face as he began to recall the night of the tent fire, without a doubt. 

“I didn’t know what happened to you, either,” Seokjin appeared to be squeezing Hannah’s wrists tightly, the two of them in their own little bubble. 

“Han, sweetheart, why don’t we head inside? It’s freezing out here,” a young woman emerged from behind a silver SUV, approaching Hannah and Seokjin with a kind smile. Y/N assumed the woman must be Sarah, Hannah’s adoptive guardian, and upon her interruption of the moment between the two hybrids, Y/N regained the ability to move her limbs again. 

“Oh, you’re right,” Hannah broke away from Seokjin sheepishly, burying her hands in the pockets of her peacoat. “Jinnie doesn’t like the cold, I got a little ahead of myself.”

Something about the way Hannah used the nickname “Jinnie” rubbed Y/N the wrong way, no matter how unfounded her jealousy seemed to be. Seokjin was always irked whenever Hoseok called him that, but he didn’t seem to mind it coming from Hannah’s mouth. Physically shaking the thought from her head by plastering a friendly expression on her face, she approached the three who appeared to have forgotten Y/N was even there. 

“You must be Y/N! Nice to meet you,” Hannah was the first to spot Y/N after she delicately sniffed the air and turned to her, the cat hybrid brushing past Seokjin and surprisingly pulled Y/N into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of Jinnie!”

Y/N willed herself to not be stiff as a board, immediately hugging Hannah back as she was aware she was being watched by Sarah and Seokjin. Hannah smelled like spring flowers and fresh laundry, and her silky strawberry-blonde hair tickled Y/N’s chilled cheeks. She could feel Hannah purring with Y/N’s palms pressed to her upper back, Y/N certainly not expecting Hannah to react to her presence in this way. Perhaps Hannah could trace Seokjin’s scent lingering on her, even though it had been several months since Seokjin had last given her a bite. 

“O-oh, don’t thank me, Hannah. I think most times, he takes care of me,” Y/N was embarrassed, Hannah pulling away with a chuckle. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too!”

“That’s Jinnie for you. Like a mother hen,” Hannah bit her lip, Y/N being unable to do anything but silently agree. “Let’s go inside before we have to defrost him!”

Y/N nodded quickly, peering over Hannah’s shoulder to see what Seokjin was doing– he was talking to Sarah shyly while blowing warm air into his fists. 

“Come on, Jinnie,” Hannah skipped back to the jaguar hybrid, Y/N soaking in how tall and lithe Hannah was, looking like the perfect match for beautiful Seokjin. 

When the cat hybrid hooked her hand around Seokjin’s elbow to lead him towards the entrance of the brewery, Y/N desperately hoped she wasn’t filling the parking lot with the scent of jealousy like toxic gas. 

“Y/N, I’ve heard wonderful things from Ben Alpin. I’m so glad we could get these two together before we move,” Sarah began to walk in-stride with Y/N, trailing after the two hybrids in front of them. “Hannah was so excited, she hardly got any sleep last night.”

“Same for Seokjin. I think he must have texted me six different outfit options in the middle of the night,” Y/N glanced at Sarah, who appeared to be in her early thirties, closer to Hannah and Seokjin’s ages than her. She had curly brunette hair, shocking gray eyes, and a sort of confidence that she had only really seen Ben possessing before. Maybe it was a lawyer thing. 

Y/N made small talk with Sarah from the time they walked into the brewery to when they were seated in a booth, not wanting to disturb the hybrid’s conversation. Y/N paused before the booth that the hostess led them to, not knowing where to sit until Seokjin promptly slid into the spot beside Hannah, Y/N’s heart in her throat. She tried not to look too weirded out when she took her seat across from her jaguar hybrid, who usually fought tooth and nail to get a spot beside her in any other scenario. 

Though Seokjin had assured her that whatever romance he had with Hannah was long since over and done with, Y/N couldn’t help but analyze every single interaction between them with unease. She knew she was being ridiculous, possessive, and a bit selfish– for Christ’s sake, Seokjin didn’t even know how Y/N felt about him, but her emotions were impossible to rein in and control. Hannah was bubbly, funny, sweet, and absolutely gorgeous; freckles smattered across her cheekbones and button nose, a full, pretty mouth with a deep cupid’s bow, and her eyes were a paler version of Seokjin’s copper penny irises. It was impossible to not feel a little jealous of the cat hybrid. 

“Have you been here before, Jinnie, Y/N? Any recommendations?” Hannah flipped through her menu, bottom lip between her teeth as she scanned it. 

“We came here a little while ago, with the others and Y/N’s friend Alice,” Seokjin replied, his looking so pleased Y/N swore his cheeks were rosy with delight. “I like the soft pretzels, and the house burger was pretty good!”

All Y/N wanted was a fat pint of beer. She was going to need it if she was going to get through that lunch without having to excuse herself to the bathroom to have an anxiety barf. 

“Y/N, you should get that citrusy beer again. You liked it so much last time,” Seokjin read her thoughts, Y/N feeling like strolling to the bar and opening her mouth under the nearest tap. 

“Mm, that’s what I was thinking, too, honey,” Y/N murmured, gluing her eyes to her menu. 

“Good afternoon, welcome to Salem’s, can I get you started on something to drink?” Their waiter appeared, and thankfully it was an older gentleman with a pot-belly, rather than handsome Lindsay-Buckingham-lookalike from last time. 

With drink orders in place, Y/N opting to stay away from the beer flight lest she become drunk and bold by ordering a simple pint, she fished around in her brain for some kind of conversation topic that would occupy everyone until the beers arrived. 

“So, Y/N, Jinnie told me that you used to work as a veterinarian, that’s how you knew how to treat his injuries,” Hannah broke the ice first, though it seemed that Y/N was the only one actually feeling the iciness. The other three at the table looked merry and at ease, and Y/N could only hope she didn’t look as rigid as she felt. 

“Yeah, I was. Right before I adopted him, that same night, in fact, I took my leave from the hospital I was working at. I wasn’t sure at the time if the job was the right fit for me, so I wanted to take time to sort out my feelings…” Y/N rambled, Hannah’s pretty face open and kind as she nodded along to her words. “Seokjin wasn’t in too bad of shape, he had a fever that had spiked and a gash on his side, but both were treated quickly before he got an infection.”

“Hannah, weren’t you hurt too? That night…” Seokjin took the attention off of himself, a blush forming on the apples of his cheeks. 

“I was fine. Just a sprained ankle, miraculously. The company was only going to let me take two nights off, and that’s when Donovan gave me Sarah’s card. I called her right away,” Hannah patted Seokjin’s shoulder fondly, using her free hand to gratefully accept her beer from Y/N across the table. 

“Donovan?” Sarah cocked her head quizzically. Y/N wondered if Sarah was as much in the dark with her hybrid’s past as she was– with all seven of them, nonetheless. 

“Donovan is one of the only members of the company that actually cared about us. Even though he worked there with ticketing, he always made sure that we had as many comforts as he could smuggle in for us. Extra blankets, food, books. He even got us an old TV with a stack of DVDs one time. He helped a couple of us out when we’d get injured, I guess he caught wind of your office and you in particular around the city, how you take on cases for hybrids free of cost,” Hannah’s fingers danced around the wooden table as she explained, before landing on top of Sarah’s hand and squeezing with a wistful smile. 

“We owe him a lot,” Seokjin added quietly, tracing an index finger around the rim of his beer glass. 

“I’d like to think our new lives, a chance at happiness, is repayment enough for him,” Hannah shook her head, Y/N once again feeling like she was intruding, the gravity of the conversation making her squirm in her seat. She took a steady gulp of her beer, and thankfully the waiter had returned to take their food orders. 

“Hannah and I were thinking,” Sarah began after the waiter ambled away, stirring her gin cocktail with a little black straw. “Once we’re settled in New York, perhaps mid-spring, you and Seokjin can come to visit? There’s a hotel right by our new apartment, so please feel free to bring the rest of your family, too. Maybe we could go see some live music in the area, get good food? What do you think?”

Seokjin immediately made eye contact with Y/N, hope rounding out his sunset stare, and she felt everyone at the table waiting for her response. In all honesty, it was a nice idea– a little getaway would be a lot of fun for both her and the hybrids, and there was really no excuse to disappoint Seokjin by saying no. While she was certainly jealous of the close relationship between him and Hannah, it would be cruel to separate them indefinitely. 

“That sounds like a great time! Maybe around the middle of April? I’d have to give notice to my boss, but I think a trip would be lots of fun,” Y/N perked up, thinking about all of the activities she could focus on during their vacation rather than the fact that she had a little green monster raging around in her stomach. 

“April would definitely work! I should be settled in my new office, and Hannah will have her routine with the gymnastics team, as well, by then,” Sarah shaking Hannah’s hand excitedly, Y/N realizing that they had been holding hands for quite some time. The sight had her thinking about how Seokjin always threaded his fingers through hers, almost constantly. 

“It’s settled, then. Can you send me the information about the hotel, please? I’ll book rooms as soon as I get the time off for the vacation,” Y/N couldn’t help but grin fondly at the way Seokjin and Hannah’s shared gleeful expressions, Hannah leaning her shoulder into Seokjin’s. 

After a bit of discussion surrounding activities in the town Sarah and Hannah were planning to move to, the food arrived, Y/N giggling when Seokjin cut half of his steak to divide into three, delivering a slice to each woman at the table with a concentrated pout. 

“See? What did I say? Mother hen,” Hannah remarked, popping a French fry into her mouth with a smirk. “I always used to say Jinnie’s love language was sharing his food.”

“You shouldn’t tease your friend when he has food in his mouth, Han,” Sarah scolded, but there was no real reproachfulness in her tone. Seokjin was in the middle of trying to wash down a piece of steak that got lodged in his throat with a swig of beer, taken off guard and apparently very embarrassed. 

“Y/N and I are going to a cooking class next month,” Seokjin quickly changed the subject after he recovered, his eyes still slightly watering and ears pressed flat against his head.

“Really? That’s something you’ve wanted to do forever,” Hannah set down her burger, looking from the jaguar hybrid to Y/N, Seokjin furiously nodding. 

“She got me tickets for my birthday,” Seokjin confirmed, now staring at Y/N with an expression on his face that had her heart racing. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Hannah casting a look at Y/N’s chest, one of her peachy triangular ears flickering. “One of the other hybrids we live with, Yoongi, has been teaching me some basic cooking skills.”

  Y/N fumbled for her phone in her purse, preparing to show Sarah and Hannah some pictures of her other hybrids when they asked about them. Ben, evidently, hadn’t told Sarah exactly how many hybrids Y/N had adopted. 

“Wow, Ben wasn’t joking! You’ve got a big family, here,” Sarah exclaimed, grinning at a picture of Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin feeding the chickens in the backyard– the rooster nipping at Hoseok’s heels and the other two pointing and laughing at the fox hybrid. “You all get along?”

“For the most part,” Seokjin answered honestly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin as he polished off the last of his entree. “Hannah, you’d like Hoseok. He’s a lot like you.”

“Oh, a clown?” Hannah cracked a self-deprecating joke, Seokjin rolling his eyes but nodding in response. 

“Oof, that wolf hybrid… he’s a doll,” Hannah pointed at a picture of Namjoon Y/N had snapped of him outside by his van; wrapped up in a scarf with the tip of his nose pink from the cold and snowflakes dusting his hair and ears. Seokjin snorted, muttering under his breath. 

“Joonie? Yeah, he’s handsome,” Y/N agreed without thinking, zooming into Namjoon’s face, able to make out tiny snowflakes clinging to his long eyelashes. “All of my boys are.”

Sarah and Hannah chuckled, Y/N handing over her phone to let the two of them scroll through her camera roll by themselves, returning to her meal with a warm feeling spreading in her chest. At that point, since the adoptions, she had well over a thousand pictures of all of the hybrids, and she had half a mind to get a bunch of them printed for a scrapbook. 

The odd sensation of being watched washed over her suddenly, Y/N taking her attention off of the two with her phone to look for the source of it– finding Seokjin studying her carefully, appearing deep in thought. She smiled at him, tentatively, considering she wasn’t used to Seokjin eyeing her in such a serious way, and he snapped out of it quickly, grinning cutely back. 

The four of them ordered another round of drinks after the entrees were cleared away, Y/N wanting the lunch to last a little longer than normal for Seokjin and Hannah’s sake. It would be a few months until they’d get to see each other again, Y/N taking a sip of her beer calmly as she noted the two hybrids exchanging phone numbers. Sarah was in the middle of sending Y/N all of the information she needed to book hotel rooms for her and her hybrids in April. Y/N supposed the issue of how many rooms she’d need to book and who would room with who would be a headache for much, much later. 

“Let’s split some desserts! Want to share the lava cake, Y/N?” Hannah flipped through the small dessert menu, her speech a little loosened from the two pints of beer she had drank. Hannah was pretty slight, so apparently it didn’t take much for her to get tipsy. 

“We got that last time,” Seokjin informed her, Y/N giggling at the way Hannah rolled her eyes at Seokjin. “I wanna try something else.”

“Then try something else. I was talking to Y/N,” Hannah slid the menu towards Y/N, a smirk on her face. 

“I split it with you, Hannah. It was really good,” Y/N lightly nudged Seokjin with her foot under the table when he began pouting pathetically. “Get anything you want, honey, if there’s leftovers you can just bring it home for later.”

Y/N encouraged Seokjin to order whatever he wanted, Hannah snorting at how much Seokjin perked up after Y/N spoke. Y/N could see why she and Seokjin had become so close over the years; there were several similarities Y/N had noticed Hannah had to Hoseok, and that was likely why Seokjin was able to become such good friends with the fox hybrid right away. Y/N could even see Hannah fitting in well with her own friend group, with her, the Santos twins, and Ben… Y/N found the longer she sat in the booth and got to know the cat hybrid, the more she liked her. Whether or not that placated or heightened her jealousy, Y/N couldn’t decide. 

“Keep in touch, until April, alright?” Sarah placed a friendly hand on Y/N’s forearm, as they stood outside of the brewery’s bathrooms. “I’m going to use the bathroom before we hit the road, can you stay with Hannah?”

Y/N nodded, comfortable enough to be alone with the cat hybrid by now, considering Seokjin had also disappeared to wash his hands in the men’s room. Y/N turned, lingering around the hostess’ booth with Hannah, the young woman already looking at her– in a similar way Seokjin was studying her earlier. 

“This place is pretty good, huh? Isn’t that lava cake delicious?” Y/N began, Hannah nodding with a soft smile on her face. “It was really nice to meet you. Seokjin told me so many wonderful things.”

Hannah chuckled, though she still looked a little serious, her shoulders squared with importance. Y/N could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket with several texts, but ignored them once she realized that Hannah had something to say, unease curling in her gut. 

“Y/N, I want to thank you again for taking care of Seokjin. He seems really happy with you,” Hannah took up one of Y/N’s hands, her skin like warm silk. “I should tell you though. He has a soft heart, please be careful with it.”

Y/N blinked stupidly, torn between being offended and grateful. Hopefully masking those emotions, Y/N simply nodded, wondering if it was obvious to Hannah how Y/N felt about Seokjin. 

“Seokjin had a lot of… um, incidents with fans of the circus. People who claimed to love him, bringing him gifts, making him promises. He was always let down in the end. It chipped away at his confidence, I think. I’m not saying you’re like that, but I don’t know if he’ll survive another heartbreak.”

Y/N felt the smile melt from her face, soaking in what Hannah had to say with nausea beginning to take over. She didn’t even know what to say in response to that, and Hannah’s expression was guarded as she caught the agitation coming off of Y/N in waves. 

“I’d never… treat him like that. Seokjin is safe with me,” Y/N composed herself, understanding where Hannah was coming from, and all at once feeling sad for Seokjin. “I care about him, about all of my boys, more than anything.”

Hannah’s guarded expression softened a tad, hearing the fierce sincerity in Y/N’s words, squeezing her hand once before letting go. 

“Thank you. I believe you,” Hannah murmured, Y/N nodding once and trying to steady her galloping heartbeat. “You’re a good person, Y/N.”

With that, Hannah looked over Y/N’s shoulder, a blush forming over her cheeks as she gave Y/N one last hand squeeze, Sarah returning from the bathroom wrapped up in her coat and scarf. The fondness that she’d sometimes see lighting up her own hybrid’s faces was mirrored in Hannah’s expression when the cat hybrid saw Sarah, which had Y/N forgiving her for being so forward with her. Truthfully, she was just trying to be protective of Seokjin, in her own way, and Y/N couldn’t be too upset with Hannah just for that. 

Seokjin appeared moments later, and Y/N was confident he didn’t hear her and Hannah’s conversation considering he was in sky-high spirits, zipping Y/N’s coat for her with a grin and making sure the collar covered up the vulnerable skin of her throat. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the four of them were saying their goodbyes, Sarah leaving to warm up the car while Seokjin and Hannah shared their last few moments together. Similarly, after bidding Hannah a goodbye, Y/N made somewhat of a beeline to her car to avoid watching the two hybrids emotionally embrace again, grumbling at the way her phone was blowing up in her pocket. Once in the icy cab of her car, jacking up the heat all the way, she fumbled for the device, squeaking at the messages crowding her screen. 

Before she could check to see who was trying to reach her so desperately, her phone started ringing– and it was her boss, Judy, who never typically bothered her on a day off. Promptly, she picked up, keeping an eye on the blur of lavender making up Seokjin’s coat. 

“Hi, Judy, is everything alright?” Y/N cleared her throat, which was rather dry after the interaction with Hannah. 

“Everything’s fine, dear, I was just checking up on you. About your decision, have you talked to your two hybrids about doing the investigations and cleansings?” 

Shit. Between everything with Yoongi and tip-toeing around, finally solidifying that day’s plan at the brewery, and the holidays, she had forgotten to ask Namjoon and Jeongguk about how they’d feel about making a little cash on the side with her. Exhaling slowly, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“I’m sorry, Judy, I haven’t gotten around to it yet. The holidays were a little overwhelming. I can talk to them this evening, though.”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Our holiday season this year was quite busy, as well… relatives coming from all corners of the country. I’m only asking, however, because there’s a young mother who has contacted me about an entity in her home, bothering her children. She’s desperate for a consultation, and I think that you’d be able to help her.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling her phone vibrate against her cheek with yet another message, starting to worry there was some kind of emergency back at home. 

“Oh, I’ll talk to them tonight, then. When I come in on Monday, I’ll hopefully be bringing good news,” Y/N conceded, feeling bad that she hadn’t given that conversation with Namjoon and Jeongguk too much priority. “If there’s children involved, I want to be able to help right away.”

“Alright, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, I’ll forward you the mother’s email that was sent to me.”

Hanging up, Y/N thought about how to round up Namjoon and Jeongguk and try to convince the latter to break away from his free time enough to travel around the state with her and Namjoon. Sighing, she opened her messages with her eyes squeezed shut, thankful for the long-winded goodbye Seokjin and Hannah were in the middle of. 

Yoongi 👼🏻: We’re going to have to talk, soon

Yoongi 👼🏻: Sweetheart… I think some of them are starting to figure it out

Yoongi 👼🏻: Namjoon won’t let me out of his sight. I think he can smell you on me or something

Yoongi 👼🏻: Tonight, you and I have to talk, music room. Midnight

Yoongi 👼🏻: We’ll figure it out together, we can’t hide it from them forever

Yoongi 👼🏻: You can’t hide from them forever, either

Y/N felt the bile that was already boiling in her stomach from earlier rise to her throat, picturing Namjoon’s wrath, the idea of having to break the news of her and Yoongi’s relationship to her other six housemates, and dealing with the aftermath of that. So caught up in possibility, Y/N swore loudly when Seokjin yanked the car door open and hauled himself inside, pressing a hand over her chest. 

“Whoa, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Seokjin panicked, hands shooting out to cup Y/N’s face with urgent, concerned hands. In consequence, Y/N’s phone clattered to the floor mat, and thankfully it was locked when Seokjin freed one of her cheeks to scoop it up for her. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just startled by the noise, that’s all,” Y/N replied a bit breathily, leaning into Seokjin’s palm heavily, breathing in his eucalyptus body wash in order to soothe herself. “Sorry.”

“Please,” Seokjin scoffed, tucking hair behind her ear and rolling his eyes. “You know how I am with loud noises. If anyone gets it, it's me.”

With that, Seokjin pulled Y/N in for a hug across the center console of the cab, using a hand on the back of her head to direct her winter-chilled face into the crook of his neck. Heartbeat stuttering a few beats, she felt herself go limp in his strong arms, worries dissolving into nothing as he held her tightly. 

“Thanks for arranging the meet for today. Hannah really likes you,” Seokjin mumbled into her hair quietly, Y/N able to feel the upturned corners of his mouth pressed into the tresses. “Just like I thought she would!”

“I like her too. She does remind me of Foxy, a little bit,” Y/N admitted, trying her best not to let her lips brush against Seokjin’s throat, though she had been harboring a desire recently to sink her teeth into the strong expanse of it. “April will be here before you know it, and we’ll get to visit her.”

“Mmph,” Seokjin returned noncommittally with his lips buried in her hair, tightening his hold on Y/N.

“What was that, honey?” Y/N giggled, pulling her face out of Seokjin’s neck, mouth still slightly watering with the idea of biting marks into his flesh. “Aren’t you excited to take a trip?”

Seokjin made a sad little purr when she maneuvered herself out of his arms, the bright color of his irises flashing once she leaned across the cab to buckle him into his seat securely. With a click, he was belted in, Y/N booping his nose that was still cool from the outside air. 

“Yeah, but I think I’ll probably miss home while we’re gone,” Seokjin admitted quietly, surprising Y/N as she backed out of her space and threw the car in drive. “I never really liked traveling.” 

Y/N processed that statement, thinking about how Seokjin had been dragged from coast to coast for years. It was likely that he enjoyed having some roots in place after essentially being a vagabond, and that was yet another similarity between him and Hoseok. 

“We’ll make it fun, I swear. I’ll rent some kind of camper van that we can drive up, we can get greasy breakfast sandwiches, make a road trip playlist…” Y/N thought aloud, picturing Namjoon in the passenger seat with an old-fashioned map, Jimin passing out snacks to everyone with his bright smile, and the eight of them crammed into a camper. 

“Why don’t we take Namjoon’s van?” Seokjin suggested, capturing Y/N’s right hand as soon as she moved it off of the gear shift, his palm warm despite being outside for quite a while. 

“It’s not big enough to fit all of us, and besides, there are about a hundred books in there. I’m not sure how Joonie and Jeongguk even hang out in there together, there’s nowhere to sit,” Y/N felt Seokjin lace his fingers with hers, the jaguar hybrid humming in acknowledgement. “Regardless, we’ll have a good time.”

“As long as I’m with you, it’ll be okay,” Seokjin sighed, squeezing her fingers gently. Y/N stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, a tiny smile on his lips as he gazed out of his window, Y/N’s heart threatening to break through her ribcage. 

“What, no take out for me?” Hoseok opened the door for her and Seokjin, a deep frown on his face once he realized Y/N wasn’t holding any bags. 

“No, Yoongi is making chili tonight. Pub food doesn’t travel well, anyways,” Y/N shrugged off her coat while kicking off her shoes, using Hoseok’s shoulder to balance while he grumbled. Y/N knew that he was just pretending to be annoyed, judging by the merry sway of his tail. “How was your afternoon, Foxy?”

“God, you’re calling me that now, too?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes, Seokjin snickering while he hung his and Y/N’s coat in the closet. 

“What? I think it’s cute,” Y/N replied, poking one of the little dimples above the corners of his mouth when his lips were flattened into a line. “Are Joonie and Jeongguk outside? I have something to discuss with them.”

“Yeah, they’re in the van. Probably talking about bigfoot or some shit,” Hoseok said, Seokjin’s snickers turning into full-blown squeaky laughter, Y/N dragging both of them into the kitchen where Yoongi was dutifully chopping celery. 

At the sight of him, Y/N’s chest squeezed, sensing his stress simply by noting how his shoulders were tensed up. She wasn’t looking forward to their chat at midnight, but at least she’d have some alone time with him. Promptly, Seokjin reached for his set of knives on the counter, Yoongi pointing to an onion for the jaguar hybrid to chop. After Y/N gave Yoongi a quick cheek kiss to greet him, she shuffled outside in her slides, ignoring Seokjin’s complaints that she wasn’t wearing a coat. 

In the driveway, she could see exhaust coming from the tailpipe of the van, Y/N skipping up to the side door and knocking three times. In two seconds flat, Jeongguk cracked open the door, hissing as he yanked Y/N into the toasty van with his hand wrapped around her wrist. There were old reruns of The X-files playing on Namjoon’s tiny little TV, and there were snack-sized bags of chips littered all around.  

“Are you fucking crazy? It’s like 20 degrees outside,” Jeongguk scolded, Y/N smacking his hand off of her wrist with an eye roll. 

“Says the one in a tee shirt,” Y/N shot back, glaring at the Metallica concert tee he was wearing with disapproval. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Joonie!”

Namjoon was seated in one of the only spots free of books and tapes, the booth by the kitchenette, appearing startled that she swung by to talk to them. He offered her a wave, setting the pen he was using down and straightening up from his slouchy position. 

“So, you met up with Seokjin’s girlfriend?” Jeongguk returned to his own seat across from Namjoon after he took a disinterested sniff in Y/N’s direction. Irked, Y/N used her foot to push Jeongguk further into the booth, plopping down beside him. 

“Ex-girlfriend,” Y/N corrected, Namjoon lifting an eyebrow at her and leaning back in the booth. “What are you two up to? Is this the headquarters for a secret club?”

“The wolf has a pretty decent collection of books about the occult and shit. Got nothing better to do,” Jeongguk shrugged, fiddling with the sword pendant around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have something to ask you, brat,” Y/N seethed, the elk hybrid’s attitude not a very good indication that he’d be willing to hang out with her more than necessary. “I have a proposition.”

Namjoon’s ear flickered, leaning forward on his forearms so he could listen closely. His gaze lingered on her throat, where the necklace he had given her was still clasped around securely. 

“The answer’s no,” Jeongguk smirked lazily when Y/N stared daggers at him, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. “What do you want?”

“My boss, Judy, remember her? She actually offered me a new opportunity, I’ll end up making more money and doing things that don’t require me to sit on a stool all day bored out of my mind,” Y/N began, eyes on the paper Namjoon was writing on– he must have been taking notes from the book she had gotten for him on his birthday, judging by the occultish doodles amongst his notes. 

“You’re asking for career advice?” Namjoon asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Well, let me finish, Joon,” Y/N chuckled, teasingly nudging his shin under the table. “Basically, she wants me to take over the consultations and cleansings for customers who come in and have issues with the paranormal. She asked me if you two would be interested in helping me with that, and you’d get paid, too.”

Namjoon froze, before his expression dissolved into pure excitement, something Y/N hardly ever saw on his face unless there was some kind of pastry in front of him. Like she predicted, Namjoon seemed to be totally on board, the van filled with the sound of his tail thumping against the cloth booth they were crammed into. 

“So… we’d go to work with you?” Namjoon inquired, gripping the table with white knuckles and stars in his eyes. “Three times a week?”

“Well, no, just when we’d have cases to work on. I suppose I could talk to Judy about you coming with me during my regular hours, though, you could help me shelve inventory if you want,” Y/N replied, noting that Jeongguk had yet to offer any sort of response. “What do you think?”

“Jeongguk, it’s like what you did before, with that investigation team,” Namjoon pointed out, Jeongguk drumming his fingers against the table contemplatively. “You were just complaining that you had nothing better to do.”

Jeongguk looked from the wolf hybrid to Y/N, both staring at him expectantly, Y/N unable to decipher exactly what he was thinking due to the blank look on his face. 

“I need more information before I agree to anything,” Jeongguk cleared his throat, angling his body so he could face Y/N better, scratching one of his tapered ears with a grimace. 

“Sure. Judy said we could pretty much run the whole ‘operation’ however we wanted. We’d probably take the car from house to house, do the consultations with the client, and then brainstorm together to make a tentative plan for cleansings. Anything we’d need for rituals we could get from the shop,” Y/N felt the van rock as Namjoon squirmed in his seat. 

“Don’t you think we’d need to do an investigation before we’d be able to come up with how to get rid of the haunting?” Jeongguk asked in an almost condescending manner, Y/N sucking her teeth in annoyance. 

“Thought that went without saying, but yeah. I figured that’s the part you’d be the most interested in, with your new camera, your experience, and all that,” Y/N kept her cool, concluding if Jeongguk didn’t want to help, she’d still have Namjoon. “Joon, you have a wealth of knowledge, too, and all these books to consult. I think the three of us make a good team, and we’d be helping people.”

Namjoon stood, beginning to pace around the tiny van with his hands on his hips. 

“Let’s say after a consultation, we have a night where we investigate the property with the client elsewhere. After the investigation, we review findings, come up with a plan on how to best correct the situation, and then we execute it within the home,” Namjoon thought aloud, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he paced. “As for transport. Let’s use this van. It’ll be easier to transport equipment and tools, and be more comfortable for longer trips.”

“Whoa, wolf. You’re serious about this?” Jeongguk gaped, and Namjoon looked deathly serious in response, so the elk hybrid changed tactics by addressing Y/N. “I don’t know, kiddo. Aren’t you worried about things that might attach themselves to you again? We just got rid of that hag.”

Both Jeongguk’s concern for her and the nickname he had begun to use on her every once in a while had Y/N nearly swooning into his lap beside her, but she managed to keep it together somehow by biting down hard on the inside of her cheek. 

“I’ve been on top of my protection magic lately, you know that,” Y/N nudged Jeongguk’s shoulder with her own, significantly softened after his display of concern. “Whatever happens, I know we can handle it. We’re like the supernatural dream team!”

With that, Jeongguk scoffed with a head shake, but the way his frame sagged Y/N knew that he was moments away from giving in. 

“Fuck it, let’s do it,” Jeongguk put his head in his hands, Y/N excitedly grabbing one of his forearms and shaking it in triumph. “I’m not starting a fucking podcast with you two, though.”

“Of course not. The world needs less podcasters anyways,” Y/N snorted, getting up from the booth with a grin. “We already have a ‘case’, Judy’s sending me the woman’s email with the complaint. I’ll keep you two updated and I’ll find out more on Monday.”

“You’re leaving?” Namjoon halted her by the door, and Y/N could have sworn there was a whisper of disappointment in the downturned corners of his full mouth. 

“Ah, yeah. I want to shower before I have my call with the twins,” Y/N became sheepish, shriveling up under the weight of the wolf hybrid’s gaze. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Joon, okay? Thank you two for being on board with this, too. I think we’ll learn a lot from one another, maybe even have some fun!”

“Unless The Nun comes for you,” Jeongguk drawled sarcastically, yanking one of the van windows open so he could light up a cigarette already poised between his lips. 

Giving him the finger, Y/N smiled warmly at Namjoon as she exited the vehicle. Both optimistic and excited to be able to spend quality time with her two more bristly hybrids, she hurried inside before she could totally freeze to death. 

Yoongi wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, nor was Seokjin or Hoseok, but the chili simmering away on the smelled heavenly and had Y/N’s mouth watering, even if she was still full from her lunch with Seokjin. She tried not to pout too much that nobody was looking for her on the way to her bedroom, and with that, Y/N wondered if she was becoming too codependent; and further, she wondered why she didn’t give a shit if she was. 

Y/N found herself waiting around for midnight that night so she could have her secret meeting with Yoongi, and because it was only a Wednesday, her and the hybrids took it easy with the nightly cocktails– so she was waiting anxiously and fully sober. By 11 PM, she was practically vibrating, gnawing on her nails until they were jagged and unsightly, and she decided to just crawl up to the music room and wait for Yoongi.

Everyone else had gone to bed already, between those who had sports the next day, and Jimin so he could get up early for the animals. Y/N wasn’t worried about bumping into anyone, but she still felt like she was creeping around like an intruder. Once she was up the stairs, her mouth dropped open in surprise seeing light spill from the threshold of Seokjin’s bedroom door. Unfortunately for her, on her way to the music room, Seokjin must have caught her scent, his door creaking open and his head popping out into the hallway. 

“What are you still doing up?” Seokjin whispered into the air, Y/N having no choice but to let Seokjin usher her into his bedroom, the soft pink walls lit up with gentle lamplight. 

“Oh, I just felt like listening to some records before I go to bed. I haven’t tested out the new system yet,” Y/N fibbed, Seokjin easily buying the lie and tugging her further into his bedroom. 

Getting a good look around, she breathed in the familiar scent of Seokjin’s body wash perfuming the room, a neat collection of books from the library book club lined up on his dresser, folded laundry sitting on the chair by the window, and his stuffed alpaca sitting on his bed. It looked like she caught Seokjin while he was reading in bed, The Silmarillion sitting on his pillow and the pink quilt pulled back. 

“You can’t sleep?” Seokjin questioned further, manhandling Y/N by her shoulders and getting her to sit on his bed. He was purring, the sound deeper than normal, and Y/N noticed a sort of wicked gleam in his vibrant eyes. 

“No, that’s not it,” Y/N breathed, Seokjin looking unfairly amazing in just a pair of plaid pajama pants and a simple white tee shirt. “Just not ready for bed y-yet.”

Y/N stuttered when Seokjin sat beside her, his tail automatically wrapping around her waist possessively and his expression growing more dangerous by the second– like he was going to eat her alive. 

“I liked the dress you wore today,” Seokjin leaned back on his palms, dragging his eyes up and down her frame. “Pretty.”

“Um, thank you?” Y/N had no idea what was going on, stiff as a board sitting on the edge of Seokjin’s bed, while he toyed with her emotions. “Guess you like the color pink, huh?”

Giggling nervously, Y/N forgot all about meeting Yoongi in the music room, getting lost in Seokjin’s heady gaze, his tail curling lazily behind him. Desperate to escape his scrutiny, she scrambled to find something to talk about, fisting her hands in his quilt. 

“Wow, you’re a-already on The Silmarillion? How did you like the original trilogy? We should watch the movies together soon–”

“Y/N,” Seokjin purred, using a fingertip to trace a line up the inside of her wrist, watching with interest as goosebumps followed his path. Before she could squeak in response, Seokjin pounced, knocking the wind out of her as she was pinned to his mattress in the blink of an eye. 

“Oof–” Y/N wheezed, eyes wide as she processed what was happening, hands scrabbling on the quilt as she registered Seokjin’s knees framing her thighs, keeping her put as he stared down at her hungrily. “Jin!”

A low growl came from the back of his throat as Y/N whimpered out his nickname, an elbow coming down beside her shoulder so he could bring his face closer to hers, his minty breath washing over her face as she stared at him owlishly. Regaining some of her motor functions, her hands grasped onto his broad shoulders, preparing to push him away before she lost all sense and kissed him, but as if he sensed this, Seokjin swiftly grasped her wrists in one of his hands. Tutting, he held her wrists above her head easily, his eyes becoming lidded as Y/N’s heart began pumping frantically. Then, as he was using his free hand to graze his fingertips under her jawline, it dawned on Y/N. 

Unable to break free from the ironclad grip on her wrists, Y/N could only watch Seokjin above her, his cheeks flushed and his mouth slightly parted, adrenaline coursing through her veins as he settled his weight on top of her. The way his hips were flush with hers had a strike of white-hot heat flashing over her skin, but Seokjin didn’t seem to notice as his thumb traced over her pulse point, a satisfied look on his face as he felt it racing under his touch. 

Last time Seokjin scented her– the first and only time– he was overcome with a fever, desperate, and shaky. This time, he was coiled, predatory, and dangerous, Y/N’s breath coming out in pants as he assessed how quickly he reduced her into a mess. Suddenly, his face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N squealing when she felt Seokjin lick a graphically long stripe up the side of her neck, his lips bending into a smile at the sound. 

“Smells so good,” Seokjin mumbled, nudging his nose along the dampened flesh, his tail thrashing behind him as he soaked in her scent, his chest rumbling with purrs as he kept her pinned to the mattress. “Pretty girl.”

Y/N’s half-closed eyes shot wide open, her stomach flipping over at the growled pet name, her captured hands aching to reach out and touch the jaguar hybrid. Mouthing at her throat, Seokjin’s tongue periodically swiped at her pulse point, Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her skull as she prayed she wasn’t filling the room with the scent of  her arousal. It was difficult not to arch into him, and distantly she was grateful that he was keeping her pinned down. 

“Stay still for me, pretty, okay?” Seokjin whispered into her ear, his voice thickened with honey, Y/N squeezing her eyes shut and going absolutely still obediently, egged on by the pet name. 

With a gentle kiss to her throat, Seokjin bared his teeth, swiftly sinking them into his chosen spot with a hum. Y/N felt the edges of her vision go fuzzy, not even feeling the pain of his incisors in her neck, instead focusing on the way Seokjin’s grip on her wrists tightened, his other hand bracing his weight beside her face. 

Floating to the ceiling, Seokjin pulled his teeth from the mark, loopiness taking over Y/N as the jaguar hybrid cauterized the wound, catching stray droplets of blood with his tongue. Finally, he let go of her wrists, Y/N immediately diving her fingertips into Seokjin’s hair, the jaguar hybrid purring loudly at the sensation. With him still very much on top of her, Y/N didn’t move an inch. If it weren’t for the fact that she still had to talk to Yoongi at any moment, she probably would have gone to sleep with a smile and the jaguar hybrid laying on top of her like a weighted blanket. 

Nuzzling his face into her neck, he gave the bite one last goofily loud peck, making Y/N giggle deliriously. Wrapping his arms around her middle, Seokjin rolled sideways with Y/N pressed to his chest, and Y/N couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in her chest due to the post-scent haze. 

Pulling away a few inches, Seokjin’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he watched her dissolve into hysterics, cupping her face like he did earlier that day, and to Y/N’s astonishment, began planting loud kisses all over her face, heightening her delight. Seokjin was affectionate, but never to that degree, and once again she felt herself growing shy under all of the attention. 

“Aw, look at you. Blushing,” Seokjin cooed after placing one last kiss on the tip of her nose, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sorry if I caught you off guard. I needed you to smell like me again.”

Blinking, Y/N watched Seokjin become bashful, scratching the back of his neck as he helped Y/N sit up, one of his arms still hooked around her waist securely. 

“What do you mean, honey?” Y/N felt like she had cotton stuffed in her mouth, leaning into Seokjin as he smoothed her hair back into place.

“My scent on you. It was almost completely faded, so I would have had to do that soon anyways, but I wanted to get rid of what’s left of Hannah’s scent from earlier today that was still clinging to you,” Seokjin explained, Y/N’s mouth dropping open. 

“Oh,” Y/N blurted, Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound. “Why?” 

With this, Seokjin frowned, ducking his head so he could make eye contact with her, apparently confused that she would even ask such a thing. 

“You already smell like six other hybrids. I don’t want to add a seventh to that bunch, besides my own,” Seokjin said seriously, Y/N’s skin on fire. With that statement, her jealousy towards Hannah earlier that day all but disappeared– the sensation replaced with butterflies soaring in her stomach. 

“Oh,” Y/N repeated softly, Seokjin’s grin returning as he helped her to her feet. 

“Speaking of scents. I smell Yoongi, I think he had the same idea as you,” Seokjin kept an arm around her as they headed to his door, Y/N’s knees like jelly as she remembered the conversation she was about to have. “Maybe he’ll play you a lullaby before bed!”

“That would be nice, Seokjinnie,” Y/N sighed, thankful for the calmness that came over her post-bite. “You should get some rest, too. Your eyes are almost completely shut!”

Facing him before she departed, Y/N felt her love for the jaguar hybrid almost completely drown and overwhelm her, him seemingly so at peace and soft around the edges at that moment. And in that moment, she allowed herself to pretend they were together, and all of the messiness was long behind them. 

“Mmm. I forgot how much that can take out of me,” Seokjin blushed pink like the walls of his room, shifting from foot to foot. “I had a nice day with you today. Get some sleep after Yoongi plays that lullaby for you, alright?”

Unable to help herself, Y/N gently yanked on the front of Seokjin’s tee shirt, pressing her face into his chest and squeezing him around his middle. Deep, relaxed purrs vibrated against her cheek, Seokjin squeezing her back with equal amounts of force with his arms clasped around her hips. 

“Okay, goodnight, honey, see you in the morning,” Y/N mumbled into his chest, reluctant to let him go. However, she was running a bit late to her meeting with Yoongi, and if she stayed in Seokjin’s room any longer, she’d never leave. 

“Goodnight,” Seokjin whispered, releasing her and watching her shut his door as she left, her heart still galloping and vision a little fuzzy post-bite. The last thing she saw was the feline glow of his eyes in the darkened hallway. 

Slipping into the music room, nothing indicated that Yoongi was in there besides the battery-operated candles littered around the room, illuminating his form by the window, looking out into the backyard. Y/N had managed to compose herself during the short tip-toed walk from Seokjin’s room to her original destination, securely locking the soundproof door with a small expulsion of air, 

“Angel,” Y/N hummed, sitting heavily on the loveseat and waiting for him to join her, the leopard hybrid moving noiselessly from the window to the couch, Y/N barely able to make out his features in the low lighting. 

“You’re late,” Yoongi scolded, though there wasn’t much force behind the words as he sat beside her. “And you’re covered in Eau de Seokjin.”

“Um, sorry?” Y/N offered, Yoongi shrugging indifferently as Y/N cuddled up to his side indulgently. 

“No you’re not,” Yoongi teased, one of his arms draping over her shoulders as she curled into him, rolling her eyes. “Lucky for you, he’s dense.”

“So, he’s not one of the ones you’re worried about? Don’t think he’s caught on to… anything?” 

“I’m not sure. If he has, he’s not letting me near enough to come to that conclusion,” Yoongi replied, letting Y/N snuggle into his shoulder. “It’s Namjoon you need to worry about. He’s watching me like a hawk. If he flies off the handle and gets in your face again, I’ll break his fucking legs.”

“You absolutely will not. I’ll make you foot the hospital bill with your earnings from Daisy’s lessons if you do,” Y/N poked Yoongi in the chest, the leopard hybrid growling as if in warning. “Joonie’s softened up anyways. I’m worried about Tae. You know how he follows me around, how he can close himself off.”

“Yeah, me too. He’s really attached to you, I don’t see him reacting well,” Yoongi sighed, pinching his nose bridge delicately. “On the bright side, I don’t think any of those idiots are aware you’re in love with them.”

Y/N flinched, that being the first time Yoongi didn’t beat around the bush when it came to her feelings about the others, gawking at Yoongi with alarm. His expression was neutral, like he had just given her a 10-day forecast. 

“Jesus, Yoongi,” Y/N breathed, pulling away from him so she could rub her arms that were now covered in a chill. “Way to cut to the chase.”

“Well, it’s late. I don’t want to keep you up for much longer, so it’s better to just say things plainly,” Yoongi deadpanned, tugging her back into his arms by her shirtsleeve. “Come here, love.”

“What should I do, then?” Y/N redirected the conversation, Yoongi playing with the ends of her hair. 

“Just… talk to them. If you don’t want to confess your feelings yet, fine. But they have to know about us before we get caught.”

Y/N grumbled, tracing her fingers along the silver chain around Yoongi’s neck contemplatively. She was preparing herself for a total shitshow; Namjoon could go either way– furious or indifferent– Taehyung could withdraw, her easy friendship with Hoseok may become strained and awkward. The whole situation had her sick to her stomach with worry, and there was no way she could come up with to break the news that wouldn’t cause a glaring rift.

“What do you think about Jeongguk, Jimin? How do you think they’ll… take it?” 

“I don’t think Jeongguk will give a shit, to be honest,” Yoongi responded after a pause, shivering when Y/N’s fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of his throat. “Jimin is another one who has caught on, I think. Haven’t you noticed he’s sort of been avoiding the two of us?”

Y/N stilled, going over her memories of the past few weeks. Jimin had been outside more than usual, going on long rides around the property’s trails with each horse they had in their stables, clearing away brush in the area he wanted to place the garden beds in the spring, and repairing the old greenhouse in the backyard. Y/N could only remember him being indoors at night, usually with a book, and he definitely didn’t put up with mindless chit chat with Hoseok like he used to. Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, Y/N felt like talking to him in the morning would be a good idea.

“I think Seokjin will be fine, too. You could smack him across the face and he’d still dote on you,” Yoongi pointed out, Y/N grimacing at his amused expression. 

“I’m glad you’re finding this all too amusing, angel,” Y/N frowned, crossing her arms over her chest while Yoongi’s rumbled with laughter behind her. “I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown.”

“Hey, don’t worry too much. It’ll all work out eventually, you know. They can’t resent you for being in love,” Yoongi turned off the theatrics, smoothing a hand down her back. “Besides. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Y/N murmured, reaching up to cup one of his cheeks and kissing the other gently. “I’ve got you too.”

“Talk to them this week,” Yoongi pressed his forehead against hers, his hand coming up to wrap around the wrist that was still beside his face. “You have to, alright, love?”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna sneak around anymore,” Y/N’s expression turned wicked, hand moving from Yoongi’s cheek to the back of his neck, tugging on the long locks of his hair. 

“Impatient little one,” Yoongi chided with a snicker, giving her a chaste kiss on her mouth, Y/N thinking that wasn’t nearly enough. “Go to bed, now.”

“Can you play me a lullaby first?” Y/N used her best doe-eyed expression, Yoongi melting instantly, grabbing her hand and letting her lean her head on his shoulder while he played her a gentle, lilting tune. 

Even though she went to bed late, Y/N got up weepingly early, wanting to catch Jimin before he disappeared into the backyard the entire day. Bundling up in her warmest sweater and jeans, she covered up Seokjin’s mark on her throat with a scarf, following the scent of coffee into the kitchen. Yoongi wasn’t up yet, but the coffee maker was on an automatic timer, so Y/N helped herself to a to-go cup, feeling cozy and warm in the coat Hoseok and Seokjin got for her. No one appeared to be awake yet, and all Y/N could hear beside the whistling wind outside was movement coming from down the hall where Jimin’s bedroom was. Deciding to just wait for him, Y/N perched herself in the breakfast nook, admiring the crystalline frost covering the grass in the backyard. 

It was the coldest winter Y/N had experienced in a while, the sky gray almost every single day, the pond in the backyard frozen solid and icicles clinging to the eaves of the roof. Sipping her coffee, not even bothering to stir cream and sugar into it at that point, Y/N heard the heavy thunking sounds of Jimin walking through the foyer in his steel-toed boots, the sound stopping when he was in the threshold of the kitchen. Y/N tore her gaze from the backyard, smiling at the coyote hybrid brightly, pure astonishment on his face when he saw her sitting there in her coat and boots. 

“Good morning!” Y/N greeted Jimin cheerfully, his yellow eyes wide with shock, Y/N trying not to giggle as he attempted to disguise his expression. 

“What are you doing awake so early, Y/N?” Jimin asked, his voice still rough with sleep as he composed himself, tentatively reaching the coffee carafe with his ears alert and cautious. “I thought you liked to sleep in on your days off.”

“I wanted to help you out with the animals this morning. You know, earn my keep,” Y/N joked, Jimin snorting softly. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Jimin spun on his heel, cocking head with color in his cheeks, Y/N unable to help the smirk growing across her face. Jimin was very easy to tease, no matter how much of a smooth talker he could be. 

“You’ve been trying to figure out where to put the garden beds too, right? Maybe I can help!” Y/N continued, getting up from her seat to get closer to the coyote hybrid, who was pushing a hand through his blonde hair with a nod. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I know you wanted to talk to me about what you want to grow, too,” Jimin replied, appearing torn between wanting to hang out with her and being a little jittery about it. 

“Okay, let’s go then!” Y/N hooked her elbow with Jimin’s, fingers grappling with the soft suede of his jacket as she pulled him outside, Jimin able to take about three sips of his coffee before she was dragging him away from the warmth of their home. 

Following the paving stones towards the back of the property, Y/N clung as close as she could to Jimin’s warmth, both of their breaths making clouds in front of them in the frosty air. The sun was low in the sky, truthfully still rising, but it looked like another overcast gray January day. 

“Looks great out here, Jimin! I can’t believe you were able to clear out all that brush in front of the pond. Now we’ll be able to see it when we have lunch on the picnic table in the spring,” Y/N squeezed Jimin’s arm, the coyote hybrid’s ears flattening bashfully. 

“Well, Taehyung helped, of course,” Jimin admitted, his boots making the grass crunch beneath his steps. “He filled in that mud pit with the gravel, too.”

“It’s shaping up back here! I’m going to call a contractor and see what they can do with that little guest house. I think it would be nice to turn it into a place to watch movies in the summer, like a fort! What do you think?” Y/N nudged Jimin’s hip with her own, crossing over the little bridge over the brook, the stable in her sights. 

“I like that idea,” Jimin grinned down at Y/N, one of his pointed incisors flashing at her. “Why call a contractor though? I think we have renovations down to a certain science.”

“Fair,” Y/N agreed, breaking free from Jimin once they reached the chicken coop, the hens coming out of their little house like they sensed Jimin’s presence, the rooster squawking loudly. “Eek, Bandit scares me. I think he wants to eat Hoseok.”

Y/N pointed at the black rooster, the thing squawking at her again out of spite, Y/N thought. Jimin laughed heartily, turning on the tap so he could fill the chicken’s water trough with a hose. After blowing hot air into her fists, Y/N reached for the bag of chicken feed, giving Bandit a wide berth as she scattered food around the pen, humming merrily. 

“Y/N, here’s the basket for the eggs. I’m going to check in on the horses, alright?” Jimin reached over the fence of the pen with a wicker basket in his hand, encouraging her to take it. “Watch out for Bandit, he’ll go for your ankles when you least expect it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Y/N mumbled, watching Jimin stroll away with a smirk on his face, taking it upon herself to stare at the way Jimin’s jeans hugged his legs. 

She felt around the coop for eggs, gently nestling them in the basket as she went, using a free hand to shove Bandit away when he came snooping around her pant leg. She thought about maybe making a frittata for breakfast with the sheer amount of eggs she was pulling from the coop, fist-bumping the air when she placed the final one in the basket. Urgently leaving the pen before Bandit could chase her into a corner, Y/N set the basket down, gazing around the backyard curiously. 

The brand-new exercise pen was made up of wood that was still a pale, power-washed color, and Jimin had stacked materials to construct the garden beds nearby, where the old-fashioned green copper penny greenhouse was several yards away. Jimin had certainly kept himself busy in the past few weeks, stacks of bagged soil already beside the greenhouse and rakes strewn about. He had even replaced the milky, cracked glass on the greenhouse, the new windows shining in the early morning sunlight. 

Clicking her tongue, she made her way into the stable in search of the coyote hybrid, the building a few degrees warmer than the outside air but still drafty. Jimin had once explained to her that horses didn’t need space heaters, which Y/N wanted to get for them, with barely-contained amusement on his face. Shivering, she spotted Jimin with Vista towards the back of the stable, placing a blanket over her back. 

“Whatcha doing?” Y/N eyed the bridle he was holding, giving his horse a pat on her neck. 

“I was going to take her out and practice her jumps. It’s been a while, and I don’t want her to be bored,” Jimin expertly placed a saddle on her back, eyes flashing to Y/N making a tiny braid in the horse’s mane. “Why don’t you tell me what kinds of things you want to grow in the garden, so I can order seeds?”

“Ooh, let me think…” Y/N continued braiding Vista’s mane, hoping that Jimin didn’t mind. “We’ll have to do things seasonally, some things grow at different times of year, which I’m sure you know.”

“Actually, I don’t have too much experience with gardening. I’m better with animals and general landscaping, I think,” Jimin chuckled, leaving Vista clipped to one of the straps on the wall that kept the horse in place, grabbing a pitchfork to shovel fresh hay into Willow’s stall. “We’ll do some research, just snowball some basic ideas for me.”

“Hmm… cabbage, definitely. It’s hardy, we can make kimchi and stews with it. Leeks, peas, those are early spring veggies we can grow, too. I know Yoongi really loves tangerines, and Jeongguk likes bananas, but we don’t exactly live in a tropical environment so we can’t do that. Later on, though, we can grow strawberries in the summer, maybe even some blueberries, tomatoes. Carrots, celery, and onion for soups?” Y/N rambled, gazing towards the lofty ceiling of the stable as she went. “Ooh, and I want to make a smaller garden bed for all kinds of herbs, so we can use that for cooking and my practice. I think it would be nice to plant some flowers in one of the beds, too, to attract pollinators and butterflies!”

“Sounds like you’ve given this quite a bit of thought,” Jimin said, surprise coloring his tone. “I’ll have to get started on the beds. Thankfully we can use that greenhouse to sprout the seedlings.”

“Will you let me help you make the garden beds, Jimin? I know you’re worried I might injure myself with a hammer or something, but I did renovate all of your bedrooms prior to even knowing you. And the kitchen. A simple garden bed will be nothing for me,” Y/N jut her lower lip out, wondering if pouting worked on Jimin like it did with Yoongi. 

Jimin blinked, placing the pitchfork back in its spot, approaching her and Vista again. By then, she had braided half of Vista’s dark mane mindlessly, the horse placidly letting her do what she wanted. 

“If it’ll make you happy, then sure,” Jimin conceded, pulling his jeans up by his belt. “I don’t underestimate you. I apologize for making you feel that way, Y/N.”

Taken aback, her pouting working a little too well, Y/N put her hands up in alarm. 

“Oh, shit, Jimin. You don’t have to apologize, you’re well aware that I have clumsy tendencies. I’m not insulted or anything, I swear,” Y/N blurted, Jimin’s eyes going wide as soon as an expletive left her mouth. “Sorry for swearing. I regret to inform you that my mouth is just about as filthy as Jeongguk’s…”

After a beat, Jimin’s shoulders started shaking, his eyes turning into slits as he laughed at her, Y/N spellbound by his joy as always. 

“I know, Y/N. It’s funny though, you’re always trying to watch your mouth around me. I grew up with ranchers, remember? Crude as they come,” Jimin’s voice was strained in between his laughter, unclipping Vista from the wall as he spoke. 

“So you’ve been letting me act like Anne of fucking Green Gables for months for your own amusement?” Y/N exclaimed, Jimin’s laughter growing louder and more untamed. “You all love to fuck with me, huh?”

“What does Hoseok say?” Jimin gathered Vista’s reins in one of his fists, guiding her forward towards the stable’s exit. “You make it too easy.”

Muttering, she followed Jimin outside, realizing the only hybrid she adopted that didn’t tease her whenever he got the chance was Namjoon. Even Seokjin had begun to show his cheeky, prankster-type side, but the wolf hybrid was a bit too stiff to crack jokes at her expense. 

“It’s all fun and games until I start making cowboy jokes,” Y/N threatened, Jimin lifting an eyebrow at her as if to dare her. “I didn’t even notice those hurdles, did you make them yourself?”

Y/N watched Jimin unlatch the gate to the exercise pen, eyes on the freshly painted hurdles scattered around the area, all with varying heights and widths. The coyote hybrid was certainly making use of the Home Depot gift certificate he got in his stocking for Christmas, as well as the company’s delivery service. With a swish of his sandy tail, Jimin led Vista in the pen, Y/N unsure if she should follow or hang out by the fence and simply watch. 

“Yeah, I learned how to make those when I was a kid. Simple enough,” Jimin replied, the morning sun crawling higher in the sky, making his hair look even more honeyed than usual. “Here, take a seat.”

Jimin let go of Vista’s reins, the horse obediently staying put as he approached Y/N casually, and before she could ask where exactly she should sit, she was hauled into the coyote hybrid’s arms, feet dangling pathetically in the air. Yelping, she struggled in Jimin’s grip on her body, the hybrid promptly placing her sideways on Vista’s back, Y/N immediately beginning to quake. 

“Jimin!” Y/N hissed, instinctively swinging one of her legs over the horse’s back so she was seated in the saddle properly, arms around Vista’s neck in a desperate attempt not to fall off. 

“Relax, Y/N,” Jimin snorted, gathering the reins and offering them to her. “You’re fine.”

“The closest I’ve ever gotten to riding a horse is when my dad made me get on a donkey at the zoo when I was seven,” Y/N protested, taking the reins like they were a lifeline. “Is this payback for the cowboy joke threat?”

“Relax,” Jimin repeated, using a stirrup to expertly hoist himself up, Y/N growing even stiffer when the coyote hybrid settled himself behind her, arms coming around to place his hands over hers on the reins. “Straighten up, lean back, if you’re nervous. I won’t let you fall.”

Doing just that, Y/N pressed her back into Jimin’s solid chest, shakily squeezing her thighs on either side of the horse’s body, Jimin’s hands rough but gentle on top of hers. 

“Good. Progress,” Jimin murmured into her ear, a note of smug satisfaction in his tone. “You mentioned that you wanted to learn how to ride. Better to catch you off guard before you talk yourself out of it.”

“Right,” Y/N replied weakly, Jimin giving her simple instructions on how to get the horse to move forward, turn in certain directions, and stop. “You know, this reminds me of that picture of you and your sister. What’s her name? You never told me.”

They were making slow circles around the exercise pen, Jimin’s presence behind her protective and soothing, his rugged voice in her ear. 

“Her name is Seonmi, she’s three years younger than me. About your age,” Jimin replied softly, Y/N feeling his hand’s squeeze over hers. “She was nervous about riding at first, like you. But now she does the bulk of the horse training.”

“Seonmi is a pretty name. I bet you miss her lots,” Y/N said, Jimin sighing behind her.

“Of course I do,” Jimin started, the two making their fifth lap around the pen. “But like I said before, I don’t have any regrets.”

“We could visit your family soon, if you’d like. I had Ben do some digging, and there’s nothing that says you can’t visit with them, as long as I’m with you and we bring your adoption certificate,” Y/N proposed, thankful for Jimin’s warmth as a biting breeze rolled by. “What do you think? When’s the weather nice in Montana?”

Jimin fell silent, nothing but the sound of Vista’s hooves clomping away on the beaten-down earth emphasizing the lack of Jimin’s response. Y/N gave him time to process, as she pretty much dropped a bombshell on him, his left hand retreating from the back of hers and his forearm curling around her middle snugly. 

“July, it’s the warmest and when the park looks the most beautiful,” Jimin’s voice was throaty, his hold on her tender. “I– didn’t know that you were looking into that for me. You’re serious, we can visit?”

Y/N craned her neck to the side so she could get a look at Jimin’s face, and it was much closer than she thought it was, the coyote hybrid seeking eye contact with her through his light eyelashes. Able to smell his lavender shampoo from such a short distance, Y/N found herself staring right at Jimin’s mouth, his lips tempting and nearer than ever.

“Of course I’m serious, it’s your family! We’ll go whenever you want, however frequently you want, too,” Y/N insisted, her thighs beginning to ache from straddling Vista for so long. “Just say the word, I’ll get us flights.”

Jimin cleared his throat, staring straight ahead, appearing to try and push down overwhelming emotion. 

“Want to try a jump?”

“Huh? Jimin, I’ve barely learned how to steer her, you want me to try a jump?” Y/N spluttered, surprised that he changed the subject so abruptly. 

“I’m behind you, nothing will go wrong. I’ll tell you exactly what to do,” Jimin’s easy confidence made a comeback, Y/N picturing a smirk on his face as he squeezed her around the middle. 

With that, Jimin told her how to lift herself out of the saddle, lean forward, and stay in position during the jump, Y/N feeling less nervous with Jimin behind her and his clear expertise. Besides, there was something freeing about the idea of sailing through the air, so Y/N began to get excited as they approached one of the hurdles, her heart racing. 

“You can do it,” Jimin encouraged, giving her hip an encouraging pat, Vista speeding up and Y/N lifting herself out of the saddle with her back still pressed to Jimin’s chest, whooping loudly as Vista successfully flew over the hurdle. “That’s it! You’re a natural.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t behind me, though, I would have fallen on my ass,” Y/N was riding the high of his praise, enjoying every second of her time with Jimin even if she was frozen solid. 

After a few more jumps, Y/N’s thighs were truly starting to go numb, humbling her by how out of shape she was. She knew she should probably head back into the house soon to have some breakfast, her stomach growling loudly once they landed a final jump. 

“Ah, you should go in now. Don’t want you to get frostbite, and by the sounds of it, you’re famished,” Jimin brought Vista to a halt, swiftly and gracefully sliding off of the horse, his hand outstretched for Y/N’s. 

“Are you going to come with me?” Y/N asked, trying to keep the whine out of her voice at the thought of parting with him, his citrine eyes twinkling with amusement as she placed her hand in his. 

Using his free hand, Jimin hooked his forearm around Y/N’s lower back, lifting her gently off of the saddle and setting her down on her feet, keeping his arm in place as she shook the feeling back into her legs. His ears were perked up as she groaned softly, the blood rushing to her stiff muscles and giving her pins and needles. 

“I’m going to take the other horses out for exercise, too. It won’t take too long, I’ll come in for lunch later. Have a few more windows to replace on the greenhouse,” Jimin scratched the back of his neck, again looking a bit conflicted. Yoongi was right, Jimin was definitely trying to get some distance, using tasks outside as excuses. 

“Oh, alright,” Y/N watched Jimin pat Vista’s neck distractedly, his nose twitching. “I’ll see you then. Thanks for the riding lesson, it was a lot of fun!”

“Anytime, Y/N. In the spring, we can take longer rides on the trail together,” Jimin’s nose was still twitching, Y/N wondering if he could smell her suspicion that he knew something about her and Yoongi, but his sweet smile gave nothing away. “Head in now, don’t forget the eggs.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Y/N watched the coyote hybrid usher Vista back into the stable, scooping up the basket of eggs by the coop before she started back to the house. 

Y/N thought that she’d be able to tell right away if Jimin knew anything, as he typically was easier to read than a book with his earnest expressions. The only indication that something was awry was his insistence on hanging outside for hours on end. Thankfully, she thought, he was just as laid-back and friendly as he always was, and if he did know something, it wasn’t preventing him from treating Y/N normally. 

As she approached the house, she saw that Taehyung and Yoongi were in the kitchen, the former changing out the lens on his camera for a different one. Yoongi, however, was in the middle of stirring coffee in two separate mugs– one of them, she assumed, for her. 

Monday night, Y/N came home with a packet of information about the haunting her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon were going to investigate, sighing blissfully as the scent of homemade pasta sauce filled the house. Kicking off her shoes and hanging up her bag, she was too beat from helping Judy with the busy sale they had that day to discuss more mystical subject matter with the two hybrids, so she kept the packet in her bag. All she wanted was to sink into the couch with a bowl of pasta, numbing her brain with whatever show the hybrids were binging that day. 

“Hi, angel,” Y/N padded into the kitchen, finding him by himself, stirring the pasta sauce with a wooden spoon. “How was your day? The lesson with Daisy?”

“Good. She learned Twinkle Twinkle faster than you,” Yoongi winked at her, Y/N tugging on a lock of his hair in retribution. “You? You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, we had a pop-up sale today. 60% off on crystals, 30% on jewelry. Place was jammed with ladies that look like my mom,” Y/N complained, mouth watering at the scent of tomato and basil. Or perhaps it was the smell of Yoongi’s spicy vanilla cologne. “Where is everyone?”

“Taehyung’s in his darkroom. Ghostbusters are outside, Foxy and Jimin are sawing wood for whatever project the coyote cooked up this time,” Yoongi hummed as Y/N wrapped an arm around his waist as he cooked, leaning her chin on his shoulder tiredly. “Seokjin’s in his room.”

“It’s getting dark, I’m worried that someone is going to lose a finger sawing,” Y/N peered over her shoulder to look outside, but she couldn’t really make anything out with the waning sunlight. 

“Don’t sweat it. They can see better than you in the dark, silly girl,” Yoongi set down the wooden spoon, turning on his heel and grabbing Y/N by her hips, threading his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans. “Missed you.”

“Oh, did you?” Y/N pushed hair out of his face, tucking a strand of it behind his ear, playfully flicking one of the hoops threaded through it. “Careful, baby…”

“It’s fine, no one’s here,” Yoongi pulled her closer, Y/N bracing herself by placing her hands on his chest, his voice gravelly and quiet. 

Blushing, her eyes fluttered shut, secretly thrilled that he was being so bold, and maybe by the possibility of being caught, even if it caused a total shitshow. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she sighed softly at the feeling of Yoongi’s lips on hers, sweet and soft. One of his hands cradled the side of her face as he kissed her, Y/N’s arms looping around his neck as she attempted to deepen the kiss by swiping her tongue over his lower lip. 

Things came to a shattering halt when the slider to the backyard was yanked open, Y/N springing apart from Yoongi with utter horror. Apparently, throwing caution to the wind had thoroughly fucked her. 

“Oh shit, wolf, you called it. How much do I owe you?” Jeongguk strolled into the kitchen cockily, arms crossed over his chest as he looked from Y/N to Yoongi. “Twenty bucks?”

Namjoon was behind the elk hybrid, his expression made of stone as he watched Y/N grapple for the countertop so she wouldn’t pass out. Neither of them seemed pissed, but Y/N had absolutely no idea what to say. 

To make matters worse, Jimin was leaning against the coffee bar after slipping inside behind Namjoon, and Hoseok was standing in the doorway with huge, shocked eyes and letting frigid air into the house. 

“I– I,” Y/N panicked, noticing the slight disappointment all over Jimin’s face, and the way Hoseok was standing so stiffly, it was like he was being electrocuted. “Um, I, we–”

“Were kissing as friends?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, wrestling a beer from the fridge. “Please.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi hissed, Y/N stiffening as he put an arm around her waist, squeezing tightly. 

“Y/N… you… do you like him?” Hoseok snapped out of whatever was keeping him stationary in the doorframe, hastily shutting the slider. 

There was silence, Jimin looking at the floor, Namjoon simply watching with a neutral expression, and Jeongguk sipping his beer with an amused smirk. Feeling bile crawl up her throat, there was no escaping her current situation, the only thing holding her upright being Yoongi’s strong arm around her. Through her embarrassment, though, she was comforted by the leopard hybrid’s presence, and it was enough to spark some bravery. 

“I love him,” Y/N admitted, her voice wobbly but sure. 

“Jesus,” Jeongguk shook his head, picking his nails and glancing at Namjoon across the room. “I guess I owe you forty bucks.”

“I’m sorry, you two made bets?” Hoseok composed himself, looking absolutely incredulous. “What the fuck? How did you even know this was going on?”

“You’re not very perceptive,” was all Namjoon said, still not giving Y/N any idea how he was feeling. “I noticed weeks ago.”

Quaking, Y/N felt her lower lip tremble, not knowing if she was going to cry or not. 

“So, what. Are you two just gonna be together from now on?” Jeongguk inquired, Y/N astonished that Yoongi was completely right– Jeongguk didn’t give a shit about the two of them being romantically involved. 

“That a problem?” Yoongi spoke up, a growl low in his throat. 

“Not for me,” Jeongguk drained the rest of his beer, getting up from the barstool he was sitting on and walking by Namjoon, tossing two twenty dollar bills at the wolf hybrid’s chest. “Let me know when the food’s ready, I’m gonna shower.”

With that, the elk hybrid left the room, leaving Y/N reeling. 

“Um, the rest of you?” Y/N chewed on her lip, glancing at the other three hybrids scattered around the kitchen. Jimin had a difficult time looking at her, and Hoseok was being weird, rolling an apple from the fruit basket on the countertop back and forth. 

“Do what you want, Y/N. It’s your life,” Namjoon answered smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk about the case later, though?”

Completely caught off guard that Namjoon, too, didn’t seem to care, nor did he fly off the handle, Y/N blinked at him, shakily nodding her head. Once that was confirmed, Namjoon took a seat in the breakfast nook, pulling out a book from his hoodie pocket and taking himself out of the conversation. 

Hoseok shrugged, returning the apple to the basket, heading towards the foyer with his sunny grin back on his face– always managing to bounce back. 

“I second what the wolf said. None of my business, and if you’re happy then that’s all that matters. Keep the making out in front of me to a minimum, though, I don’t wanna see you like that, Yoongi,” Hoseok jabbed, whistling his signature tone, leaving the room. Seconds later, Y/N heard the TV turn on in the parlor. 

Jimin, out of the four who walked in on them, was definitely the most perturbed. Gently, she eased Yoongi’s arm off of her, approaching Jimin slowly, and finally he made eye contact with her. 

“Jimin, are you upset?” Y/N asked tentatively, and he shook his head after a short pause. 

“No, Y/N, I’m not upset,” Jimin placed a hand on her forearm, though his lips were still downturned at the corners. “I just wish you had told me sooner. You didn’t have to sneak around.”

Flinching, she hardly recognized the hurt in his voice. Y/N realized he must have taken the “sneaking around” as not trusting him enough to divulge her feelings, and with a pat to her forearm, Jimin made a move to leave the kitchen, too, but not before adding one last statement. 

“You deserve to be happy, Y/N,” Jimin offered her a half-smile, and with a swish of his tail, he was gone. 

“That went remarkably well,” Yoongi broke the silence, Namjoon snorting from his spot at the breakfast nook, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d be pissed, wolf.”

“I learned my lesson the first time beating the shit out of Taehyung. Solves nothing, and I’m not about to tell Y/N how to live her life.”

Blushing, Y/N was impressed by how much progress Namjoon had made in regards to taming his temper, sheepishly trudging back over to Yoongi. Yoongi, for the first time in weeks, looked relieved, giving Y/N a kiss on her forehead. 

“But… Seokjin, and Tae. Still have to tell them,” Y/N was embarrassed that Yoongi kissed her in front of Namjoon, but the wolf hybrid was absorbed in reading The Secret History and didn’t appear to notice. 

“No you don’t, they definitely heard,” Yoongi grimaced, Y/N flinching again. “Everyone knows now.”

Over the course of the week, everything… pretty much went back to normal, for the most part. Y/N refused to engage in PDA with Yoongi in front of the others, being far too shy for that, but Hoseok was back to his normal self, Jimin had forgiven her for the deception, and Namjoon and Jeongguk acted like nothing had changed at all. 

As for Seokjin, things were a bit awkward, at first, and Y/N noticed that he wasn’t as clingy anymore. Yoongi theorized it was because Seokjin didn’t want to come between him and Y/N, but Y/N didn’t wholly agree. When he came down for dinner on Monday night, he didn’t say anything about her and Yoongi, and he said nothing when Yoongi took the jaguar hybrid’s normal spot beside her. 

Taehyung was an entirely different story. He acted indifferent, but he stared at Yoongi with so much contempt, Y/N thought the somewhat new friendship between them pretty much went up in flames. While Seokjin wasn’t as clingy anymore, Taehyung stopped clinging altogether, going from his photography club to mealtimes to his bedroom. He had been avoiding Y/N all week, much to her dismay. 

Thursday, after work, she corralled Namjoon and Jeongguk into the wolf hybrid’s van to discuss the paranormal case, packet in hand. Trying to push down how weirded out she was that Seokjin and Taehyung were being so distant, she focused on the two hybrids that treated her the same as they did before walking in on her and Yoongi. 

“So, I told Judy that next week we can travel to the family’s house for our first consultation. I’ll make sure it isn’t on a Monday, so it doesn’t conflict with the book club meeting, Joonie.”

She handed Namjoon the packet of information, his grip eager, while Jeongguk lazily lounged in the booth beside her, playing a phone game. 

“The Sanders family. Single mother Erika, her 13-year-old daughter Julie, and 10-year-old son Thomas,” Namjoon read off the top page of the information Judy gave her, waving cigarette smoke out of his face with annoyance. “Do you have to smoke in here?”

“She’s blocking me in this booth, and I don’t want to move,” Jeongguk replied, tapping the ash off of the cigarette into the glass ashtray Y/N had bought for him at a thrift store. “Keep going, I don’t wanna be here all night.”

“The activity started in December. Knocks on the walls, doors opening and closing on their own. The daughter reported seeing a shadow in the shape of a man in her room one night. Odd smells tend to linger in the air, seemingly coming out of nowhere…” 

“Demon,” Jeongguk commented helpfully, turning off the phone game he was playing. “Sounds like a script from a movie.”

“I haven’t even read it all, yet. You think everything is a goddamn demon,” Namjoon snarled, tossing the packet at Jeongguk’s face, his ear twitching in agitation. “It seems that most of the activity is surrounding the daughter.”

“Further proves my theory. Demons tend to prey on adolescents,” Jeongguk flipped through the packet, using a highlighter on various sentences printed out on the paper. “Maybe she was messing around with a Ouija board, or hanging out with her friends in a cemetery or something.”

“We won’t know until we interview her,” Y/N pointed out. “I agree with Jeongguk. It Sounds like it might be a demonic haunting. We’ll have to do a cleansing of the entire property, do protection magic on each family member, and put up wards for them.”

“Good, a tentative plan,” Namjoon relented, using a legal pad to jot things down. “I’m gonna make a list of materials we might need.”

After an hour spent with the two hybrids coming up with a plan of attack, Y/N headed back into the house, hoping to catch Taehyung when he arrived back from the photography club. Her mother took him, Hoseok, and Yoongi to the rec center for their activities, and would be dropping them off any moment. 

Hanging up her coat, she took a seat on the staircase, spotting headlights pulling up to the front of the property. Squirming in her seat, she hoped that Taehyung would allow her to talk to him, and as the front door swung open, Hoseok bolted inside, smiling brightly at Y/N and ruffling her hair, cheekily grabbing her hand to haul her to her feet. Though covered in sweat, he still looked handsome, the ends of his hair damp on his forehead. 

“How was it today?” Y/N let go of Hoseok’s clammy hand, the fox hybrid whistling. 

“Hard. Ran like four miles. I gotta shower, Yoongi said I reek,” Hoseok complained, though Y/N could tell he had a good time. 

 Next though the door was Taehyung, his eyes going wide once he realized Y/N was blocking the way of both of his hiding spots. Smirking, Hoseok ditched her, skipping down the steps to the basement while whistling a tune. 

“Hey, Tae,” Y/N tried her best to act natural, Taehyung’s fist tightening on the bag containing his camera. “I’ve been missing you, lately. Working hard on photos for the next expo?”

Taehyung didn’t reply, shifting from foot to foot, relief washing over his face as Yoongi appeared in the foyer, dressed in his athletic wear and similarly as sweaty as Hoseok was. However, once Taehyung realized it was Yoongi, his face became screwed up with an unreadable expression. 

“Hi, baby,” Yoongi went right up to Y/N, Taehyung going stiff as he watched Yoongi plant a chaste kiss on her mouth with a devilish smirk, pulling her in for a very sweaty hug. 

“Ah! Angel, you’re all sweaty,” Y/N exclaimed, her fingertips slipping against the damp flesh of his biceps. Once Yoongi pulled Y/N into the embrace, there was enough space for Taehyung to squeak by her, and he did, bolting up the stairs like he was on fire. 

“You did that on purpose,” Y/N accused, eyeing Taehyung’s form disappearing into his bedroom. 

“What, can’t kiss my girl?” Yoongi blinked innocently, though the corner of his mouth pulled upwards gave away his mischievous intentions. 

“Go bathe, I’m making dinner tonight,” Y/N muttered, poking his shoulder and gesturing to the stairs. 

“Okay, baby,” Yoongi shot her a wink, Y/N’s mouth drying up at the sight of his arms flexing as he gripped the stair’s bannister. “Try not to burn yourself in my absence.”

Giving him the finger while his back was turned, she watched him slouch up the stairs, butterflies in her stomach. 

The next day, Friday, Y/N had off, and she nervously checked her appearance in the mirror before she worked up the courage to meet Yoongi in the music room for her lesson. She was unsure as to why she was feeling jittery, as she swiped some berry-flavored lip balm on, she had had dozens of lessons with him, but that day, circumstances were different. Now that everyone knew that they were together, they didn’t have to hide. They could…

Shaking her head, she tossed whatever dirty thought that was beginning to form aside, jerkily adjusting the elastic band of her loose fabric pants. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, making her take her attention off of her reflection. 

Yoongi 👼🏻: coming?

Unable to put it off anymore, Y/N left her room, scampering upstairs. With mostly everyone else either outside with the animals or hanging out in Namjoon’s van, Taehyung editing photos in the downstairs office, she didn’t bump into anyone on the way to the music room. Like always, she promptly shut and locked the door behind her, gritting her teeth at the sound of Yoongi snickering from across the room. 

“You’re always laughing at me,” Y/N griped, turning to get a good look at her leopard hybrid. He looked amazing, even though he was in simple gray sweatpants and his wine-colored henley. “I just don’t want a repeat of Monday night.”

“Hmm… I get it,” Yoongi put his hands up, using a couple of crooked fingers to beckon her to him. “Though, all things considered, everyone seems to be taking the news well.”

“Yeah, except for Tae,” Y/N said. “Thanks, by the way, for scaring him off yesterday. I really need to talk to him.”

“He’ll come around. I think he wants some space,” Yoongi responded, plopping down on the piano bench. “What do you want to learn today?”

“You’re letting me pick?” Y/N gasped dramatically, getting comfortable beside him. “Wow, you’re not trying to butter me up or something, right?”

“Just pick a song and stop being dramatic, sweetheart,” Yoongi groaned, lifting the fallboard off of the keys. 

“Um… okay, how’s this?” Y/N began seriously, Yoongi reading her features with curiosity. “Bella’s Lullaby.”

“Oh, come on,” Yoongi lightly shoved her by her shoulder, Y/N giggling like a maniac. “I said be serious!”

“If you don’t want to teach me, I could just Google the score,” Y/N sassed, a frown growing on his face.

“Don’t be a brat,” Yoongi snapped, grabbing Y/N’s phone from her and tossing it on the chair across the room. “If that’s what you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”

Y/N was busy trying to get her stomach to stop from flipping over when he called her a brat, praying he didn’t notice her thighs involuntarily pressing together. Grumbling, Yoongi started to scribble notes on blank sheet music, his tail mindlessly curling around her hips. Y/N took her time studying him while he worked, his hair falling into his face and his lower lip tucked between his teeth.

 Continuing her visual perusal of her leopard hybrid, her eyes dropped lower, skimming the elegant column of his neck, the shiny chain clasped around it, lowering her gaze even further to gawk at the way his shirt hugged his biceps. Licking her lips, she focused back on the sheet music, watching the way he gripped the pen, his other hand, she realized, gripping her knee gently. Yoongi’s hands were beautiful; pale, veiny, and strong. Without thinking, she began to trace the veins with her fingertips, Yoongi purring in response. 

“You have pretty hands,” Y/N complimented, fiddling with his index finger as Yoongi shook his head with a smile. 

“Thank you, baby,” Yoongi squeezed her knee, Y/N humiliated that such a simple action sent an electric shock of arousal through her. This time, Y/N was positive Yoongi could tell she was turned on, subtly sniffing the air and eyes darkening a shade. “That’s all?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N shivered at the sound of Yoongi’s deep voice, flames licking her cheek as she felt Yoongi’s hand slide upwards a few inches on her thigh. 

“Nevermind, then,” Yoongi’s tone turned teasing, withdrawing his hand from her thigh, rolling his wrists to warm them up. “I have the first few bars. I’ll have to look up the rest later.”

“Stop teasing me,” Y/N ignored the sheet music he placed on the piano, squirming on the bench. “Yoongi.”

Going still, Yoongi cocked his head at her, ears flattening to his skull as she swung one leg over to straddle the bench, fully facing him now. His sight dropped down, the sound of his purring cutting off as Y/N hoped he got the hint. She was tired of waiting, she wanted him now. 

“Baby,” Yoongi cooed softly, almost in warning, setting his pen down and leveling a charged stare directly in her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Want you,” Y/N answered immediately, without hesitation. “Don’t wanna wait anymore.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s gaze turned sharp, feline. “But you were being so patient.”

The leopard hybrid’s touch returned, both of his hands settling on her thighs heavily, Y/N’s breathing beginning to come out in short pants. It was pathetic, truthfully, how quickly she was dissolving into pure want, but she didn’t care, not when he was looking at her like that. 

“My patience has run out,” Y/N hardly knew what they were talking about anymore, tugging Yoongi closer by the collar of his shirt. “I want you.”

Growling, Yoongi’s mouth was on her’s in a heartbeat, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as she wound her fingers into his hair, using the locks as an anchor to prevent him from pulling away. Not wasting any time, Yoongi tilted his head, his lips parting, Y/N mirroring the action to deepen the kiss urgently. Whimpering when she felt his tongue slide against hers, she drank in his taste; sweet from the tangerines he had with his lunch. Tongue sweeping over her gums, exploring, Y/N pressed her chest into his, desperate to be as close as possible. Before long, Yoongi pulled away, Y/N gasping for breath as one of his hands traveled to her lower back, making her spine arch in his grasp. 

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Yoongi grunted, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down the length of it. “Want you, too.”

Mewling into his mouth when he dove back in, her flesh tingled where his fingertips were crawling up the back of her shirt, seeking. She was swelteringly hot and freezing cold at the same time, trying to keep up with the way Yoongi was kissing her so thoroughly. By now, she could feel her underwear starting to stick to her, Yoongi no doubt being able to tell, judging by the way he was groaning against her lips. 

Accidentally, her grip on his hair slipped when he moved to attack her throat with equally passionate kisses and nips, grabbing onto one of his ears. Yoongi hissed against her skin, biting down particularly hard on her collarbone but not breaking the skin. Crying out, she tugged on his ear again in response, Yoongi moaning into the crook of her neck, his heart pounding so fast Y/N could feel it against her chest. So hybrid ears were sensitive, she thought distantly, using her thumb and forefinger to rub a few circles against the silky fur. Meanwhile, Yoongi was busy sucking a bruise into the base of her throat, Y/N’s thighs clenching around the bench, and she wondered if she had already soaked through her panties and her pants. 

Abruptly, Yoongi pulled away, a feral look in his eyes as Y/N’s grip was lost on his ears, her hands reaching to tangle into the fabric of his shirt before her wrists were gathered in one fist, Yoongi lifting them in the air. Confused, she whimpered in protest, wanting to touch him, but Yoongi caught her by surprise by reaching for the hem of her sweater, peeling it upwards quickly and tossing the garment across the room as soon as it was off of her. 

“Yoongi!” Y/N squealed, the leopard hybrid ignoring her as he let go of her wrists, mercifully, her eyes and head rolling backwards at the sensation of Yoongi’s mouth back on her, this time, his attention on the other side of her neck and his hands settling on the small of her naked waist. “Oh.”

Sighing, her eyes slipped shut, unable to prevent the whines of his name coming out of her mouth steadily, weakly gripping his shoulders to keep her tethered to earth. Dragging his tongue along the dip of her collarbone, beside the choker she was wearing, he purred, nipping her once before straightening up. Getting a good handful of her hair, Yoongi angled Y/N’s face back to him, sucking her lower lip into his mouth. 

“So beautiful,” Yoongi murmured in between kisses, a few of his fingers tracking the band of her bra, Y/N gasping when she felt them slide under the fabric. “Need you…”

“Please, Yoongi,” Y/N could hardly recognize her own voice, sounding so wrecked already.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked darkly, plucking up one of her bra straps and letting it smack against her skin when he released it. 

“Touch me,” Y/N begged, nearly ready to pin him to the ground out of frustration. 

Grunting sharply, Yoongi finally snapped, both hands joining each other behind her back, pulling the clasp of her bra free and chucking it to the side without a thought. Normally, in that position, Y/N often grew shy, but there was no room for that when it was Yoongi looking at her like that. Eyes sweeping over her torso, Yoongi’s fingertips traced the sides of her waist with reverence, Y/N’s chest heaving in anticipation. 

Experimentally, his touch migrated across her ribcage, right under the curve of her breasts. Pausing, Yoongi glanced up at Y/N, her lip sucked into her mouth and eyebrows pulled together, he watched, transfixed, delight taking over her expression when his thumbs brushed over her nipples. 

“Fuck,” she whined, arching even more into his touch, her fingernails cutting into the skin of Yoongi’s shoulders even through the fabric of her shirt. Encouraged by her reaction, he pinched one of the buds, growling when she began to tremble and moan his name desperately. 

“Sensitive, baby?” Yoongi hummed, the scent of her arousal starting to make him delirious with lust. Before Y/N could reply, however, Yoongi surged forward, pressing kisses across her chest, and when his lips wrapped around one of her nipples, Yoongi swore she was nearly weeping beneath him. 

“Yoongi, oh–” She managed to grind out, Yoongi flicking the nipple that wasn’t tucked between his lips, loving how responsive she was to his touch. “Oh my god.”

Before he could have too much fun, however, Y/N was yanking him up by his shirt, her eyes wild and lidded. 

“You too,” she panted, tugging on the material of his henley, Yoongi busy admiring the marks he had left all over her throat and chest. Distractedly, he reached behind him, yanking his shirt off and letting it drop to the floor. 

Like he had with her, Y/N soaked in every inch of his chest, automatically tracking her hands all over his skin, the muscles of his stomach clenching at the chill of her fingers. Mouth watering at the sight of him, in just sweatpants and his silver chain, Y/N hooked a finger around the necklace and pulled Yoongi in for another searing kiss. 

Y/N moaned at the sensation of their bare chests pressed together, Yoongi sucking on her tongue, and she was now positive she had soaked through her pants. Moaning again, this time in protest, considering Yoongi was getting off the bench and pulling away from her. Mouth dropped open to ask where he was going, she squeaked when he dropped to his knees in front of her, forcefully moving her leg so she was sitting on the bench properly, the leopard hybrid sitting between her parted knees. Attempting to close them, Yoongi shot her a warning look before pushing them apart again. 

“You’re so perfect,” Yoongi sighed, hands once again on her thighs as he trailed kisses down her sternum, stopping for a moment to lave over one of her nipples. He was painfully hard at that point, her endless string of mewls and moans making his head spin. “Being so good for me.”

He continued his path down her body, stamping open-mouthed kisses over the soft swell of her stomach, her hip bones, Y/N’s hips involuntarily twitching as his hair started to tickle the skin around her most sensitive areas. One hand keeping her still by gripping her hip, Yoongi teasingly dipped his fingertips into the waistband of her paints, Y/N imploring him to do something with dollike eyes. 

Daring to look between her legs, Yoongi purred in surprise, realizing she had soaked straight through her pale blue cotton pants, the material a darker blue, clinging to her center. 

“Angel,” Y/N whined, a note of embarrassment coloring her sweet voice, her hips bucking upwards as his fingers slid further past the waistband. 

“Want me to touch you?” Yoongi didn’t know who he was becoming, but his voice sounded dark and wicked. He could soak in that moment forever, and he’d be a happy man. 

Nodding furiously, Y/N looked torn between bashful and eager, a pretty layer of sweat coating her skin under the candlelight of the room. Behind her, somehow in the frenzy, the fallboard of the piano was put back in place, Y/N’s elbows braced on the wood. Somehow, the image of his lover, pliant and waiting for him, leaning against the very instrument that they had spent many afternoons playing together, was almost too much to bear. It was that image, one that he wanted burned into his eyelids, that had him springing into action. 

“Hips up,” he ordered, Y/N’s knees shaking as she did what she was told, Yoongi pulling her pants from her body and using a firm hand to have her settle back on the bench. Left in just a pair of white lacy panties that matched the bra she was once wearing, Yoongi wondered if she had planned for this to happen. 

Now that her pants were off, the scent of her arousal was nearly enough to knock him out. Sitting there in just her panties, that were so damp with her juices they were see-through, Y/N tried to close her legs again and rub, Yoongi lightly tapping her thigh with a growl. 

Thighs shaking, Y/N hissed sharply when Yoongi sunk his teeth into the meat of her thigh, sucking a deep bruise into it, feeling his tail thrash behind him and his boxers becoming unbearably tight. Taking deep breaths through his nose, trying to drink in the scent of her as much as he could, Y/N was begging above him– please, please, please. 

“Want me to touch you here?” Yoongi’s eyes flicked up to hers, his fingers ghosting along the lace just above her folds, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat coming off of her core. “Want me to kiss you here? Make you feel good?”

“Oh, please, baby,” Y/N’s voice was strained, scratchy, and there were tears gathering at her waterline out of pure frustration. “N-need you so bad– ah!”

Her watery eyes paired with the begging were enough for Yoongi to stop toying with her, his hand finally cupping her through soaked lace, cunt pulsing against his palm immediately. Hands flying into his hair, Y/N gasped, so far past the point of being so embarrassingly desperate she let her head fall back against the piano. 

“Fucking soaked,” Yoongi remarked in awe, using his middle finger to trace a line over the center of her panties, more wetness seeping into the fabric. “You must have thought about this, huh? Me touching you like this?”

Y/N’s hips canted upwards into Yoongi’s hand, chasing more pressure, more pleasure, egged on by Yoongi’s filthy mouth. The heel of his palm pressed into her clit, her toes curling and a wail leaving her swollen lips, the grip she had in his hair stinging his scalp. Without a word, Yoongi pushed the gusset of her panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, the scent of her smacking him square in the face. She was dripping by now, thighs soaked, Yoongi unable to believe how wet he had gotten her, and he was just getting started. 

Holding her breath, Y/N stared at ravenous Yoongi’s face between her legs, yelping when he pulled one of her thighs over his shoulder, and before she could process that, Yoongi licked a long, torturously slow stripe up the entirety of her pussy, moaning at the taste of her. 

Y/N’s spirit left her body at that moment. Spine arching sharply, she cried out at the sudden onslaught of his tongue on her, cheeks burning. A strong hand pressed to her lower stomach, the other holding her panties to the side, Yoongi used a thumb to swipe over her clit, feeling more of her wetness seep onto his tongue. Y/N’s cries of pleasure grew in volume, prettier than any song he ever heard, dipping his tongue into her spasming entrance, her hips pressing into his face with force. 

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” Yoongi mumbled against her core, though Y/N barely heard him through the noises he was pulling from her. He was disgustingly good at what he was doing, alternating between licking through her folds and brushing his lips over her clit, Y/N somehow already close. “Mine.”

“O-oh, your’s,” Y/N agreed, Yoongi satisfied with that reply, simultaneously wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking, and sliding his middle finger into her entrance, her hips jerking into his face with a shriek. 

“Tight little pussy,” Yoongi hummed, curling his finger just so to have spots blacking out Y/N’s vision, marveling at how tightly her cunt wrapped around his finger, squeezing. “Fuck, baby.”

“A-Ah! Yoongi, I, I,” Y/N was shaking, sweaty, and looking positively ruined, a choked whimper cutting her off when Yoongi added another finger to the mix, her wetness slipping down his wrist, at that point. “Close!”

Humming again, this time with his lips wrapped around her clit, he sped up the fingers fucking into her heat, his other hand pressing down hard on her lower stomach, determined to make her explode. Babbling incoherently, Y/N shakily laced her fingers with Yoongi’s splayed on her abdomen, the squelching sounds of Yoongi’s fingers pistoning in and out of her making the tips of her ears burn. 

“Come on, my love, cum for me, won’t you?” Yoongi purred, Y/N’s vision going white when his lips returned to her little bundle of nerves, sucking hard, his fingers curling viciously against her G-spot. With that, she came with his name ripping from her hoarse throat, Yoongi swearing as she clamped down on him like a vice, her body contorting and writhing on the piano bench. “That’s my good girl, shit, you made such a mess.”

Yoongi worked her through her orgasm, gaping at how her wetness had dripped over the bench, covered his chest, and even made a small puddle on the hardwood floor. When a pained whimper left her mouth, oversensitive, Yoongi pulled his fingers from her pussy, giving her mound a soft kiss, soothingly rubbing one his palms over her quaking thigh, popping his soaked digits into his mouth. 

“Oh,” Y/N tried to catch her breath, face flushed, “My god.”

“Good?” Yoongi smirked, rising from his knees and planting a kiss on her sweaty forehead. “You did so well, sweetheart, love you so much.”

Preening at the praise, she dragged him close by his neck, feeling how feverish his skin was while she tasted herself on his lips. Position a tad awkward, Y/N got to her feet by using Yoongi’s chest for balance, hands slipping over the combination of his sweat and her juices that spilled onto his skin. 

“We don’t have to do anything else, that was a lot,” Yoongi murmured against her lips, arm around her waist as he tucked hair behind her ear. Instantly, Y/N frowned, gazing down at the very obvious tent in his pants. 

Without a word, she snatched up the leopard hybrid’s wrist, dragging him to the leather loveseat, Yoongi making startled noises as she shoved him onto it, cheeks flushed and lips glistening with saliva and cum. Then, it was Y/N’s turn to drop to her knees, Yoongi stuttering out a swear as she bit his collarbone, hands dragging heavily down his toned chest. 

“My turn to make you feel good,” she whispered against his skin, Yoongi gathering up her hair and placing it over one of her shoulders. 

Teasingly, she ran a fingertip over the little trail of hair leading into the waistband of his sweats, Yoongi releasing a breathy sigh while she mouthed along his neck. 

“Baby,” Yoongi stiffened at the sensation of her tits pressing against his chest, groaning. She took him completely by surprise by dipping her hand into his sweats, hand wrapping around his cock through his boxers. “Fuck!”

“Big,” Y/N commented, in awe, experimentally tracing the length of him through his boxers, smirking at the wet patch by his tip. “Want you in my mouth.”

“Holy–” Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, not expecting his sweet little girl to have such dirty thoughts about him. Grumbling at the barrier between her and his cock, Y/N shucked off his sweats, taking his boxers with them. 

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, watching his cock spring up and hit his lower abdomen, and Y/N swore she had never seen one so pretty. Chest heaving, Yoongi was staring at her with utter shock, gripping the couch with whitened knuckles. 

Without hesitating, she wrapped her hand around the base of him, a groan coming from the leopard hybrid, Y/N watching with rapt interest as precum leaked from his tip, swiping her finger through it and licking it off of the digit, Yoongi letting out a tortured moan. Humming at the taste of him, she wanted more, maintaining eye-contact with him as she brought him to her mouth, licking a similar, slow, long stripe up the underside of his cock, much like he had done when he was eating her pussy. 

“Little tease,” Yoongi accused, his chest growing pinker by the moment, long hair sticking to his neck. Wanting him to eat his words, Y/N moved quickly, suckling the reddened tip of his cock into her mouth. “Y/N–!

Yoongi, again, gathered her hair in a fist, wrapping it around his wrist, his eyes slipping shut. Addicted to the sounds he was making and the look on his face, Y/N released him from his mouth, and in a moment of pure confidence, spat on his cock for more lubrication. Yoongi, swearing under his breath, writhed on the couch, Y/N having mercy on him and angling him back into her mouth, taking him deeper this time. Swirling her tongue around his tip, Yoongi moaning and pulling at her hair, she stroked what she couldn’t fit in her mouth with a free hand. 

“What the fuck– hngh, sweetheart,” Yoongi managed between pants, eyebrows pulled together in pleasure. “Who knew you could be so naughty? Fuck, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

Y/N wanted that too, giving him her best pleading look, Yoongi pushing a hand through his hair with a humorless chuckle. 

“You’re fucking unbelievable, my perfect girl,” Yoongi thrusted his hips upwards, Y/N gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat with the tip of his cock, holding her head in place by her hair as he fucked into her. “Letting me do all these things to you…”

Y/N could already feel her thighs getting slicked up again, thanks to the filth flying from her lover’s mouth, resisting the urge to touch herself to the show he was giving her. After one particularly deep thrust, Y/N purposefully swallowing around him, eyes watering, Yoongi tore himself from her throat, panting wildly. 

Finding herself hauled up onto the couch by her wrists, Yoongi tore her panties off, the material actually ripping under the force, Yoongi kissing the wind out of her, his hands everywhere. Shuddering with him on top of her, slotted between her legs, Y/N began to ache, winded from his cock down her throat and how he was working his tongue against hers. 

“Want to be inside you when I cum,” Yoongi growled into her ear, Y/N digging her nails into his back as she clung to him for dear life. “Are you…”

Sobering for a moment, Y/N realized what he was getting at, softening and pecking his lips gently. 

“I have an IUD,” she told him, and once she did, he dropped back into his intense lust, kissing her deeply. Pressed together so tightly, Y/N didn’t know where her body ended and Yoongi’s began. “Please, Yoongi.”

Using a hand to brace his weight on the armrest above Y/N, she watched him grip the base of his cock, Y/N whimpering brokenly when he dragged the thick head through her folds, catching on her clit. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, mouth dropping open when he repeated the action three more times, her arousal clinging to his length. 

“Fuck me,” Y/N begged when he brushed against her clit the fifth time, so crammed full of want it was starting to physically hurt. “Please, baby, I need you.”

Yoongi stiffened, catching the tear rolling down her cheek, deciding to stop teasing her, for now. Besides, if he held off any longer, he was worried his dick would fall off. Positioning himself, he lowered down to an elbow, caging her in, lips finding her as he pushed in, slowly at first. 

Y/N keened into his mouth, biting down on the flesh of his lower lip, Yoongi breathing heavily at the sensation of her walls desperately trying to squeeze down on him. He went slow, not wanting to hurt her, but she took inch by inch in stride, sloppily kissing him back. Once his hips were flush with her, Y/N feeling herself frantically fluttering around his cock, she whined, long and reedy reaching up to grasp on Yoongi’s necklace. 

“So tight,” Yoongi snarled through gritted teeth, taking everything in him to not pound her into the couch with the way she was clenching down on him, and the wrecked look on her beautiful face. 

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N felt him brush away the tear that had tracked down her cheek. “Move, please move!”

Pulling out until there was only about an inch of him still inside her, Yoongi rolled his hips forward, setting a slow, but hard pace to start, Y/N clawing at his back every time her body jerked back due to the force of the thrusts. She was moaning his name again, and Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever tire of that sound, burying his face into her neck and giving her yet another bruising bite. 

“So fucking perfect, love you so much,” Yoongi was out of his mind, surrounded by the scent of her, and regretfully, he knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted to. In the back of his mind, however, he didn’t care– there would be plenty of other times he could draw out their pleasure. “Taking me so well… made for me. You’re mine. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Yoongi couldn’t help himself, with the sounds she was making and the stinging sensation of her fingernails marking up his back, he sped up the pace, rutting into her with abandon. With the quicker pace, Y/N could hardly breathe, every cell in her body alight with pleasure, and it wasn’t long before she felt a second orgasm building low in her abdomen. 

“Y-yoongi, you’re gonna– ah! You’re gonna m-make me cum again,” Y/N wailed brokenly, the leopard hybrid sitting up somewhat while still drilling into her, grasping either of her calves so he could fold her in half, ankles over his shoulders. The new angle had both of them moaning loudly, Y/N feeling him so deeply it was like he was in her throat again. “Ohhh my god, fuck!” 

Yoongi was determined to get her off again, watching her face screw up in intense pleasure, affection and possession coming over him all of a sudden, turning his face slightly to kiss one of her ankles gently. Hand snaking down her sweaty body, his thumb found her clit again, easily slicking it up and rubbing firm circles around the bundle, Y/N actually screaming at the sensation. 

“Gonna cum, love?” Yoongi egged her on, his balls tightening as he raced towards his own finish. “Come on, you can do it. Let go, baby.”

Capturing one of her nipples between his teeth, that was all it took, Y/N coming even harder than she did previously, clamping down on his cock so tightly he gasped, feeling her pussy drench his length. She had her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, convulsing in his arms. It was undoubtedly the sexiest thing he had ever seen, his cock throbbing inside of her as he slowed the pace of his thrusts a bit, the hand that was working her over coming up to rest over her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but the weight of it prolonged Y/N’s orgasm, tears spilling over her cheeks uncontrollably. 

“That’s it, take it,” Yoongi cooed, his hips stuttering as he found himself getting close. “Fuck, gonna fill you up.”

Remarkably, he felt her cunt clench around him again, Y/N’s eyes going wide at the thought of him cumming inside of her. Yoongi bit his lip, kissing her sloppily once more, his thrusts becoming irregular in their beat. 

“Ooh, you liked that, huh? Want my cum?” Yoongi’s voice was so gravelly, Y/N shuddered at the sound of it nodding, she reached for his hair, and before he could stop her, Y/N’s fingertips pressed firmly into the base of his ear. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Yoongi went still, pushing himself inside of her as far as he could go, dropping his face into Y/N’s neck as he came, spurt after spurt warming Y/N’s insides, whimpering weakly at the foreign sensation, and perhaps enjoying it a little too much. Y/N was shocked at the sheer volume of it, her pussy a bit battered and tender. For a moment, all they did was catch their breaths, Yoongi collapsed heavily on top of her, Y/N weakly stroking through his damp hair, inhaling the smell of his cologne. Still tucked into her neck, Yoongi was purring with content, giving the skin tiny, tender kisses. 

“I love you,” Y/N was the first to speak, realizing she hadn’t said it back to him in quite some time, soothingly running her hands down his back, over the raised scratch marks she had given him. “I think you broke me, though.”

Yoongi chuckled tiredly into her skin, lifting his head so he could peck her cheek. 

“You’ll be alright,” Yoongi insisted, his face flushed as if he was flustered. “I love you, too.”

Cock softening inside of her, Y/N winced as Yoongi carefully pulled out, giving her sides gentle, reassuring squeezes. Squeaking at the sudden overstimulation of Yoongi’s fingers inside of her, she grabbed his wrist, not ready yet for another round. Yoongi halted, raising an eyebrow, Y/N opening her mouth– to find it effectively shut, Yoongi’s cum-coated fingers shoved inside. Bewildered, she tasted the combination of their releases on her tongue, Yoongi smirking down at her. 

“Mmph–”

“What? I thought you said you wanted my cum?” Yoongi teased, a wicked gleam to his hazel eyes. “We should get you cleaned up, though.”

Once Y/N sucked his fingers clean, he pulled them from her mouth, sealing it with a kiss to her upper lip. 

“Can’t move,” Y/N complained, feeling boneless. “What about the others? It’s not like I can stroll out of here looking like this.”

“I’ll check to make sure no one’s up here. You can throw on my boxers and shirt, and I’ll carry you to my room, you can shower in my bathroom,” Yoongi helped Y/N sit up, dressing her like a paper doll in his henley, and helping her shimmy into his boxers, Y/N grimacing at the sloppiness between her legs. 

After he pulled his sweats back on, Y/N watched him head to the door, unlocking it and peeking his head outside, ears alert as he listened for any of the others. Y/N took the opportunity to ogle his bare back, the pale, perfect skin marred with red scrapes. 

Yoongi made his way back to her after a moment, collecting Y/N in his arms and carrying her like a baby koala out of the music room, apparently no one else was upstairs, and he deemed it safe to walk around in their post-sex apparel. Gently, he set Y/N down on her unstable feet, her eyes suddenly going wide with horror when she remembered something important. 

“Wait, didn’t you say I made a mess? Shouldn’t I clean that up before someone sees?” Y/N panicked, Yoongi’s eyes scrunching up as he laughed at her, covering his mouth. 

“Yeah, there’s a puddle on the floor,” Yoongi told her, Y/N blanching in mortification. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll clean it up after we shower. No one goes in there but us, and Taehyung’s been locked up in the office all day.”

“I-if you’re sure,” Y/N mumbled, still humiliated. Yoongi simply shook his head, leading her into his en-suite, with their hands tangled together, turning on the shower tap. 

She let him strip her again, but this time it felt sweet and domestic, holding her hand as he helped her into the shower, Y/N sighing at the hot water sliding down her back. He was quick to follow, letting her hold onto his shoulders as he used a soft, fresh face cloth to mop up the mess they had made between her thighs. Once that was squared away, Yoongi lathered up his loofah with body wash, both taking turns washing each other’s skin, Yoongi even washing Y/N’s hair for her with his spiced vanilla shampoo. Y/N felt like she was glowing, floating, dreaming. She had never felt so cherished in her life, Yoongi gently combing conditioner through her hair, both of them wrapped up in comfortable silence. 

After the shower, Y/N giggled when the leopard hybrid bundled her up in a fluffy towel, picking out a pair of his sweatpants and a cozy tee-shirt for her to put on. Once he was dressed, he left the bathroom with a few cleaning supplies to take care of the… mess, Y/N using his hair dryer in the meantime. Her eyelids felt heavy, fatigue taking over after Yoongi pretty much fucked her brains out, waiting for him on the end of his bed. He returned shortly thereafter with a trash bag, shooting her a wink. 

“Wanna take a nap? You look beat,” Yoongi peeled his comforter back, motioning for Y/N to crawl into his bed. 

“After all of that? Of course I look beat,” Y/N retorted, though crawling across the bed anyways and getting cozy. There was no way she was missing out on that opportunity. “Come here, take a nap with me till dinner.”

Snorting at her grabby hands, Yoongi shuffled around the bed, collapsing on his back and dragging Y/N close so she could rest her head on his steadily-purring chest. Completely content at that moment, Y/N traced shapes over Yoongi’s chest, his arms around her securely. 

“So, hybrid ears are really sensitive,” Y/N teased, Yoongi pinching her hip in response. “Duly noted.”

“Go to sleep,” Yoongi grumbled, Y/N laughing freely into his chest, but obediently closing her eyes. 

“Love you,” Y/N reminded him, cozy under his big comforter and in his strong arms. 

“Mm, too,” Yoongi replied, though it sounded like he was already half-asleep. Grinning to herself, she nuzzled into his chest, falling into a similarly peaceful sleep. 

If her other hybrids knew anything about what had gone down between her and Yoongi, none of them said a word about it, even when Y/N winced in the mirror at the colorful bites decorating her neck. Dinner was pretty normal, even when Y/N showed up dressed in Yoongi’s clothes, probably smelling like him overwhelmingly so. 

The next day, she had a bunch of running around to do, dropping Yoongi and Hoseok off at the rec center for morning practice, picking up groceries by herself, and standing in the DMV for two hours waiting to fill out applications for Namjoon, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi to get their driver’s licenses. By the time she made it back from the city after picking Yoongi and Hoseok up, it was already evening, the sun disappearing behind the house. 

While the two hybrids who had practice left her at the door to wash up, she cocked her head, hearing loud, jazzy music coming from the parlor. Curiosity taking over her, she headed in that direction. The fire was blazing, and Y/N stopped short when she assessed the scene in front of her: Youtube was playing jazz music videos on the flatscreen, the couch was messy like someone had been laying on it all day, and there was a half-drunk bottle of gin on the table with an empty tumbler. Y/N bought that gin the previous day, which made her nervous to see who had plowed through half of it. 

Right on cue, someone stumbled in from the entrance to the kitchen, tread clumsy and heavy. Whipping her head around, she saw Taehyung, pink in the face, dressed messily in a hoodie and sweats, drunker than he had ever been. 

“Oh, you’re back,” Taehyung noticed her standing there in shock, his eyes half-shut and his speech slurred. “Nice. Listening to music.”

“Jesus Christ, Tae,” Y/N lurched forward to catch him before he stumbled over a pillow strewn onto the floor. “You’re not a big drinker, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Wanted a drink,” Taehyung yanked his forearm from her grasp, pouring gin straight into the tumbler and downing a shot. Hissing, Y/N grabbed the bottle, stashing it on the bar cart with her hands on her hips. “Wasn’ done, Y/N.”

Taehyung complained, frowning deeply at her. Cringing at the loud saxophone coming from behind her, she used the remote to turn the volume down, turning around to see Taehyung stalking towards her. 

“You’re ready to talk to me now that you’re shitfaced?” Y/N asked, peeved that he let himself get to that state, and even more peeved that he was giving her the silent treatment. 

A shadow crossed over Taehyung’s face, Y/N realizing he was backing her up against the wall, a palm coming to settle on the drywall beside her face. Gulping, the strong scent of botanical gin washing over her as Taehyung got in her face, she blinked at him nervously, not used to the ticked-off look he was giving her. 

“What’s there to talk about, Y/N?” Taehyung responded, sounding a touch more sober now. 

“Why are you so angry?” Y/N breathed, Taehyung’s eyes flickering down to her mouth, a thumb coming up to pull down on her lower lip. Heart going positively still in her chest, she felt panic flood through her, not wanting anything like that happening between them while he was in such a state. However, she couldn’t move a muscle when he neared closer to her mouth, but a breath away.

“Tae, you’re drunk–”

Y/N heard stomping coming into the room, and she saw a familiar hand wrapped around Taehyung’s arm, forcefully pulling him away from Y/N’s space. Yoongi, his hair dripping wet, was standing there with his jaw tense. Taehyung blinked, realization dawned on him, and without another word, he stormed out of the room.  

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Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[wonderlandwalker]

Nurse Nightingale | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Someone wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you realize it's James looking for help you don't have the heart to refuse him

Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, blood, bruising, cuts, mentions of violence, insinuations of smut

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I'm currently using the uni holiday as an excuse not to study so now I'm writing non-stop instead. Not quite smut but sorta if you're willing to squint

*Knock knock*

You turn around, looking at the clock on the bedside table. Who the hell is knocking on the door at 3 AM?

*Knock knock*

You turn onto your stomach, pushing your pillow over your head in an attempt to block out the noise.

*Knock knock*

It’s louder this time, more determined, and you hear someone speak: “Y/N, it’s me. Please let me in.” He’s rambling a bit, he sounds tired as well. A shiver goes through your body at hearing his voice, his voice always seems to mess with your head in a way nothing else can.

“What are you doing here James? It’s 3 AM.” You ask, through the still closed door, your voice dripping with sleep. “Just, please, open the door..” He sounds desperate this time, so you decide to do what he asks. You stand up, maybe a little too fast, making your head spin, and walk towards the door. You open it, meaning to step aside to let him in, but when you see him illuminated by the hallway, you freeze. He’s bleeding, a cut starting at his nose and going diagonally underneath his eye, he’s straightened his glasses but there's a crack in them, another bruise at his temple, one on his lips, those soft lips you always think about, even a bruise below his ear on his cheek masking his jawline. “What in Merlin’s name happened to you?” You hear yourself whisper, more at yourself than him. “It’s nothing..” he slures out “.. just wanted to see you.” You move aside to let him into the empty room and he takes the opportunity, walking towards the bed, but not before grabbing you by your waist and giving you a quick, but passionate kiss. He takes you by surprise with it, your mind still trying to wrap around what happened, and your body falls into him, making him hiss from the cut on his upper lip, but he doesn't seem to want to stop regardless.

He sits down on your bed when he breaks the kiss, and you turn on the bedside lamp to get a better look at him. Small bruises are forming on his arms, and his muscles seem strained, his exhausted body melting into the bedding.

“Lay down, I’ll be right back.” you mumble at him before moving to the other side of your room where you left your wand. After a little searching, you find it, but with how tired you are, you’re not sure how much you trust yourself with it. You remember the small first aid kit in your bathroom, and move to get it before making your way back to James.

You see him struggling to take his jumper off, and move over to help him with it. Once it’s off he moves to lie down, and you put some extra pillows under his head, making him sit up a little more before pouring the sterilizer on a towel. You look over at him again, and wonder about how you’re going to do this, when you see him stretch his arm out to you. You take his hand and he pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him and giving me the perfect position to patch him up.

You look at his chest, covered in blooming bruises, and when the towel hits the few open wounds, he groans a little, instinctively moving his hands to your hips to ground himself. His eyes are closed, and even though he looks like he should be in pain, he seems relaxed.

He stays quiet the whole time, only the occasional hiss or groan leaving him. And when you’re done, having put everything back in its proper place, he asks you silently: “Can I please stay over” “Of course you can, I’m not letting you wander back in this state.” you tell him while moving to lie down beside him. He doesn’t seem satisfied though, and pulls you in even closer.

After a few more minutes of silence, you ask him: “Jamie, what the hell happened to you..?” “It’s, it’s nothing, really, just-" He seems a little hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “There, there were these guys…” He sounds a little angry, but you still don’t know what he’s talking about. “Do you remember the party that was going on, earlier tonight?” “Of course I do.” you tell him. You had gotten tired early, and decided to head to bed while the others stayed a while longer. “Well, turns out some of the Slytherins had noticed you, and they were talking about you.” He seems even angrier now, you remember this look, it’s similar to the look he got when he lost the Quidditch house cup, except this seems more personal somehow. “They were talking about you, telling their stuck-up friends all the things he would do to you- calling you names and saying how he-” you see him clench his fists, his knuckles turning white. “He was telling them how he would-, bloody hell, I can’t even get it out of my mouth. But I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I, well, I may have punched him.” “You did what?” you ask him, not fully wanting to believe what he’s telling you. Sure, he get detention often enough, but never for fist fights, he doesn't get in fist fights. “I punched him, and I got into a fight with him and his friends.” The hesitance is back now, replacing his anger. “I’m sorry y/n, but I couldn’t stand him saying those kinds of things about you.” You smile a little, and he looks confused. “You got into a fight to defend my honour, Potter?” Your smile only growing. He only nods and you don’t hesitate to lean in, kissing him softly. You can still taste the blood on his tongue, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either.

You shift over, and he pulls you in to straddle his lap once again. You give him a quiet “I love you” in between kisses. He doesn’t need to say it back this time, his actions having spoken louder than words.

[sgojoenthusiast]

clingy.

✧.* gojo satoru x reader

summary:

gojo can't stand when he's away from you and you're not here to help him out.

cw: not proof read!!!, gojo is VERY clingy & slightly obsessed w reader (who wouldn't be???), nsfw, fluff if you squint, smut, use of 'baby', fem reader, dry humping, nudes, degradation & humiliation, penetration, not much prep tbh, crying, teasing, choking, dom reader/ sub gojo.

word count: 1.8k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

Gojo can't handle being away from you. Not just because he misses your smile, your voice, making you laugh, watching movies with you or even just sitting in silence with you. Because yes, he does miss that stuff, but also because ever since being with you, no fist or toy could possibly get him off like you do.

Sure, if he tried, he definitely could get himself off. But, he refuses. Only you can make him feel good, and he is set on that fact.

The feeling of knowing that it's your hand. He's under your control. It stimulates him in a way no one else could because, simply enough, they weren't you. They didn't have your delicate hands yet harsh grip. They didn't have a voice like honey or skin like heaven.

So, when one of you are away for a mission, he’d call you every night, begging for you to help him. He's explained to you so many times how much he struggles to be away from you during times like this, yet you never quite understand him.

However, on this date specifically, you had made plans with your friends to go to a restaurant and catch up. You had only planned to stay out for a few hours and stupidly thought Gojo would be fine by himself.

1 new notification. 2 new notifications. 5 new notifications. 11 new notificati-

"Hey do you wanna get that? It seems important." one of your friends said, as you scrambled to silence your phone.

"It's fine, it's just Satoru. He's probably wondering what he's supposed to eat tonight or something. He can wait a few hours."

Attachment: 3 images.

You didn't think much of it, often he would send you photos of his face along with a message similar to "look at what you're missing babe???"

What you didn't expect, was a picture of a very prominent bulge in his sweatpants, his hand palming it. The two after that, showed his hardened cock in his hand, precum dripping down it as his thumb ran over his swollen tip.

You immediately turned your phone off and looked to the side of you to check your friend hadn't seen the image. Luckily, she was immersed in a conversation with your friends sitting opposite you.

You took a shaky deep breath, and reopened your phone to check what the other eleven messages were.

"babyyyy:(( wya?? i'm so lonely" "fuckfuckfuck just saw the vid you took of us last night baby. come home." and then several other messages along the lines of him begging you to answer him, and all the stuff he wanted to do to you. Of course, by the looks of things and how pissed you were at him spamming you messages like this, you'd be doing most of the controlling tonight.

Incoming call from Toru<3

Your friends looked at you with concern. Your shaky breaths were doing nothing to help portray a collected composure. “Sorry- I'm just gonna take this real quick." Each of them gave you an understanding look as you walked out to the back, where no one could see or hear you before you answered his call.

"Gojo, I am so unbelievably pissed off at you right now, don't even try to pretend you have no clue where I am 'cause you know damn well it's right there in the fucking calendar."

Heavy panting and strained whines was the only response you got for a solid five seconds before he replied with desperate moans and pleas.

“I can’t- I just can't on my own! It's not enough, I need you pleaseee-“

"'Toru, I'm out with my friends! I'll be home in like three hours, can't you just wait--"

"Three hours?!" he gasped dramatically. To anyone else, they would have thought he was bleeding out from his whines, cries and the way he was pleading you to leave like his life depended on it.

"Yes, Satoru, three hours." you looked around, seeing if there was anyone listening in nearby before continuing. "Satoru, you can either wait three hours like a good boy, and I'll let you come when I come home. Or, you can continue calling me whilst I'm out with my friends and I won't let you come for a week. Fuck that, i wont even fucking touch you for a week. Now, which is it, Gojo?"

With the combination of you using his last name and your terrifying threat, his eyes widened as he mumbled out a quick apology and immediately hung up. He craved you from a distance yet waited excitedly in anticipation for the night’s upcoming events.

Whilst you knew your threat was harsh, you also knew it was a completely empty one. Because, despite your annoyed tone, hearing Gojo whine on the other side of the phone had you pressing your legs together and biting your lip. Not even you could spend an entire week without touching him once.

However, it did the trick. For the entirety of the time you spend out with your friends, you didn't receive a single notification with his name on it (you just know he's saved at least twenty videos so he can show them to you whilst you're cuddling later). It was as if he's erased himself completely or destroyed his phone just to secure being able to feel you against him later.

Exactly three hours after your call, he waited patiently on the sofa, his leg bouncing up and down eagerly. He glanced at the clock maybe seven or eight times before he heard your keys in the door.

As you walked in, you barely had time to take off your coat and hang it up before Satoru's lips were on yours with a fervent intensity. His hands clung to your body desperately, attempting pathetically to get your clothes off before you pushed him onto the sofa.

"Patience, Satoru. You were being so naughty earlier." he looked up at you with wide eyes.

"But I didn't message or call you once!" he pleaded.

Gently, you cupped his face in your palm, running your thumb along his cheek. "I know, baby." you mocked.

Suddenly, Gojo grabbed you by the waist, pulling you on top of him. "You told me- hahh- I could- c-cum" he muttered, grinding his clothed dick against you helplessly. Your hand reached behind his head as you grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging hardly.

"Fuck- why would I let you cum after pulling shit like this, huh? Shit-" you moaned at the feeling of him rutting against you.

"Cause I'm, fuuckk, not letting you go-" he mumbled into your shoulder as he continued to thrust himself against you.

"Wouldn't you rather come inside me, baby? Hmm? You look fucking pathetic right now," you laughed, tauntingly. "Seriously, aren't you embarrassed, Gojo? Humping me like a fucking dog. You've got no control over this pathetic dick, do you? You're just some slut desperate for attention."

He stopped moving at your degrading words as he buried himself in your shoulder. You smiled at your victory, as you commanded him to lay back on the sofa and take his clothes off. You did the same, as you straddled his lap whilst he looked up at you in awe.

"Pleasepleaseplease- I've needed this all fucking day." he begged, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into your own.

You grabbed his dick carefully, stroking it slowly and rubbing the tip with your thumb. He moaned at the feeling of your hands, begging you without shame just to put it in and fuck him like he deserves.

However, your malicious teasing never relented, as you continued to give him very light touches, and very occasionally a small lick from between his legs.

He lay in front of you, heaving breathlessly as his mindless babbles grew into ridiculous moans and incoherent begs. His hair was splayed over his forehead and stuck to him because of the sweat, but never had you seen a more beautiful display as his chest rose up and down. His lips were closed in a slight pout, and his eyes were half shut from the constant edging, his arm covering them slightly.

However, his eyes immediately flew open and his hand grabbed desperately onto the sofa when you shifted your position to directly above his dick.

You sink down slowly, the pain fading loosely into pleasure over time. You moved your hips up and down slowly, as he gripped tightly onto your waist, urging you to go faster when you could.

Soon, you were bouncing on him relentlessly as his moans and whines intertwined with your own like your fingers which slid up his body to weave into his.

You leaned down, taking his lips into a passionate kiss, silencing the sounds of his thoughtless moans.

His mind was blank with pleasure, the only image was your pussy sliding up and down his dick. He untangled your hands as he ran them up your body and towards your breasts, grabbing and flicking your nipples - trying to make you feel even a fraction of the heaven he was experiencing.

One of his hands trailed down towards your pussy as he began to rub your clit. You gasped at the feeling, one of your hands flying straight to his throat as you squeezed tightly.

Before realising what you had done, you felt Satoru cum immediately inside of you, both his hands moving to grab onto your thighs as he reached his high.

As he lay beneath you, panting, you tilted your head at him curiously with a slight smirk on your lips which screamed "oh?". His face flushed with embarrassment. One, at the fact he had just came without you, and two at the fact that all it took was for you to choke him just a little bit for him to come immediately.

Before you had realised he liked your hands around his neck, you had retracted them, placing them on his chest. You grinned deviously as your hands began to slide up his body, a finger stopping to tilt his chin up so he was making direct eye contact with you, before continuing to wrap your hand around his neck. He groaned lowly at the connection, yet the sharp feeling of being overstimulated took over as you lifted your lips up before slamming them down ruthlessly.

He threw his head back and whined loudly, bucking his hips up into yours. "Cant take it anymore-- fuuuckkk!"

"Hmm? But you were the one who asked me if you could come? I'm giving you what you want, aren't I? Stupid, spoiled brat." you continued to move your hips up and down his cock, knowing if he really wanted you to stop, he'd say the safe word. "Plus, I haven't come yet. You're not gonna be a selfish brat too, are you? Don't you wanna make me come?"

He nodded his head incessantly. "Wanna make you come too..." he panted out breathlessly, bucking his hips up into you and moving his hand back down to your clit.

You continued like that for what felt like hours. He wasn't sure how many times he came, yet one thing was certain, and that was no matter how many hours you spent fucking him so roughly, he still hadn't had enough of your touch as you lay in bed during the dark hours of the night with his head by your chest as he showed you all the funny videos he couldn't send you earlier.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[islayhawkin]

Savior

Jack dawkins x f!reader

Summery: you get hurt and jack does everything in his power to save you

Request: i loooooove your writing and i was wondering if you could do a htc with jack dawkins, maybe reader gets hurt and he had to operate & just them after xxx

A/N: ahh thank you so much! I'd never miss a chance to write angst and hurt/comfort 😌 Jack is one of the most unfamiliar characters for me right now so I‘m still trying to figure him out but I‘m happy that you guys seem to like it

Warnings!: blood, wounds, surgeries (basically everything that happens in the show too)

Angst, hurt/comfort

It had been a usual work day at the hospital for jack. Almost boringly so. Nothing really seemed to happen. No surgeries were planned. Only patients with some problem or another. That was until you came falling into his arms in the evening. Literally.

You stumbled into the hospital door with a hand on your bleeding abdomen. Your breath was heavy and you tried to blink the nauseous feeling away but had to hold yourself up against the wall. It left a bloody print on it but you didn‘t notice as you staggered over to Jacks room.

It wasn’t really logical to aim for Jacks room since he probably was still at work in the hospital but it was the first place you could think of. Lucky for you, Jack turned the corner into the hall and discovered you slumping against the wall.

His heart almost came to a stop at the sight before starting to bound out of control again. He ran over to your side with long strides and quickly wrapped his arm around your waist to holy you upright. His hands were shaking.

"What happened?" His accent was thicker than usual, panicked.

"Stabbed." You breathed out, barely getting the word out.

Jack cursed under his breath and quickly took action. He pulled his neckerchief from his neck and pressed it against the wound earning ragged breaths from you.

"Apologies. Press it." He ordered firmly. You had never seen him quite so stern with you. But Jack had no time for gentle words, he had to act quickly.

He swiftly picked you up bridal style with his hand in the crook of your knee and carried you over to the operation table. Meanwhile he screamed for Hetty or any nurse or help nearby for that matter.

You hang limply in his arms. Though you tried to follow his order to press the cloth against your abdomen, it was difficult to mentain the strength in your arm.

The feeling of your limp body against him didn't help Jacks panic. It wasn't as if the wound seemed so gruesome. He had seen and operated a lot more but this was different. It was you.

Usually he went into surgeries with ease. He put on a show for the audience, operate with steady hands and show off a bit. Now he wasn't even sure if he could do it.

It was his heart that looked at you not his brain. But he needed to push through and shut his heart off for a moment.

Jack pushed some things roughly from the operation table, which made a clattering sound as the stuff hit the floor.

At last Hetty rushed into the room too and her eyes widened at the sight before her. She knew what you meant to him.

Jack looked up briefly as she entered. "We need to check for any interanal demage immediately, then sew it close."

With quick fingers Jack pucked up his gear and sat it on the side table.

"Are you sure you are in a position to perform this surgery dr dawkins?" Hetty asked hesitantely.

"I have to." Jack snapped at her.

"Jack..." you whispered trying to catch his attention.

His eyes flew to yours and what he saw in them broke him. You were afraid. Terrified. He felt as if you were afraid of him. He was gonna cut you open, he was going to hurt you. But he needed to.

He swallowed. "It'll be okay love. I promise. I'm going to have to operate on you now but you will not feel anything." He tried to reassure you. Desperate to get that terrified look off of your face.

You searched him with your hand and gripped onto his pants. You needed some kind of closure to him. He understood and took your hand in his. Giving it a reassuring squeeze. There was blood smeared everywhere on your hands but that didn't matter.

He held a mask over your mouth with his other hand. "Just breathe. You'll feel nothing." He whispered.

That's the last thing you remembered before you slipped into a sweet sleep.

The moment you were out jack immediately went into action and took the scalpel from hettys hand. His hand trembled slightly and he pinched his fingers together in a attempt to get it under control.

It felt so wrong to hurt you. Of course he knew that he was just saving you. He did that on a daily basis. But your delicate form usually snuggled up against him, the one he was made to protect, to cut with a knife made him almost feel it on his own skin.

Hetty gave him a concerned look but didn't say anything else. He tried to focus on the task at hand and definately not look at your face. He had to take short breaks where he leaned on the desk and breathed deeply in and out but in the end the procedure went well.

After he had closed you up and checked for the 10th time if you still had pulse and were breathing, he picked you up in his arms gently and carried you to a free bed in a seperate room with ease. He'd get you positioned in his room later anyways.

It was dark already so he lit a candle on your bedside table.

He took a deep breath and gave himself permission to relax for the first time since you came stumbleing in. He got a blanket and gently draped it over you. He checked your pulse again and sat down on a chair next to your bed.

Jack slumped down and put his head in his hands. It had been terrible to witness, to do himself and it didn't leave him unscathered. The dried blood was still on his hands as he went through his hair.

He was distressed to say the least by this whole situation, not only felt he responsible for what happened to you, as if he should have protected you better, shouldn't have to cut you open, but also was this feeling terrifieingly new to him.

Jack was a street kid. He had grown up seeing gore and death. And he was a surgeon. He was living with death constantly. He had a living human under his hands daily. But with you it made him feel terrified.

He also wasn't very often terrified. His eyes moisted up. And he blinked hastily to get it away again.

So he engulfed your smaller hand in his big, calloused one. He had always loved the feeling of your hand in his. It made him feel like he was protecting you even though he failed so miserably in real.

You started to gain consciousness again as you blinked your eyes open slowly. The first thing you noticed was that everything hurt. The second was your hand resting in another and your gaze fluttered to jack on your side. He honestly looked a mess. Not that he looked less good because of it.

"You look like a mess." You muttered your thought out loud.

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice. "You're awake." He checked you over even though he knew excactly what state you were in.

Your hand softly squeezed his.

"How are you feeling? Are you feeling sick or dizzy?" He started to pepper you with questions.

"Feels horrible. Like I was hit by a horse." you croaked out.

Jack grimaced. "Yeah that's normal." He opened his mouth to start a sentence but clamped it shut again. Swallowing.

"I was really afraid." He whispered. His big brown eyes looking at yours sincerly.

You smiled weakly. "I was too. I'm glad you were there. Thank you."

He shook his head. "No that's not- I should've been there for you. I'll never forget that frightened look on your face...what happened excactly?"

You sighed and closed your eyes. "I was assaulted. Honestly I'm not sure what they wanted. Probably harass and rob me or something. Well I fought against them and it seemed they didn't like that very much. Stabbed me in the gut and left me on the street."

Jack ran a hand over his face. "I am so sorry. Still I'm glad that you at least weren't sexually assaulted... I shouldn't have let you gone outside alone. I told you it was too dangerous!" Jacks eyes started to wet again at the mental image.

"No. There is always a risk I know that. But i don't want you to- and I can't ask you to escort me everywhere I go. Just...thank you for saving me jack."

"Of course. I was bloody shaking doing that you know?" He gave you a small smile.

"You are the most chill person in a surgery." You stated confused.

"Well not when it's you under my scalpel."

He took the side of your face in his hands. Your skin was still pale. His eyes were switching between yours. "I don't want anything to happen to you ever again. I don't think I could bare it." He whispered. His face incredibly close to yours.

You layed your hand on to of his. "You're always there to save me if it should hapoen again doctor dawkins."

"I cannot fathom a life without you in it Y/N." He whispered.

You smiled lovingly up at him. "Will you join me in bed?"

He grinned widely. "Gladly darlin'. We have to be careful of your wounds though so no thigh cuddleing."

"Probably for the best." You groaned slightly as your attention turned back to the pain.

He got into bed next to you. It was a thigh fit but neither of you minded it at all. His movements were very careful and tender as he wrapped his arm around you.

You relaxed against him as he soothed the pain a bit away.

"I'll never let that happen again." He whispered rather to himself before a sweet slumber overcame you both.