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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 2 days ago

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To Break Free

Chapter Two Summary:

Joel Miller has been called many things in his life, but a party planner has never been one of them. However, with how things had been left between the two of you after your disastrous date night, the pressure is on. Meanwhile, across the street, the forces of life seem to be working against you, as a letter in the mail and a broken AC nearly convince you to call the whole thing off. Nevertheless, the show must go on and with sweat running down your back, you venture over to the house across the street in hopes that some socialization might distract you from the past.

Warnings: NoOutbreak!Joel Miller/Reader, Sarah and Ellie as siblings, Neighbour!Joel, The Miller Girls as Wingmen for Both Reader and Joel, Tommy Is a Little Shit, Angst and Tooth Rotting Fluff, Both Reader and Joel Want Each Other So Bad, Pining, Soft!Joel, Mentions of Past Relationship/Abuse (read with caution), Mentions of Imbalance of Power in Past Relationships (read with caution x 2).

A/N:

Hey y'all, welcome back! This chapter is a bit long but like my username suggests, it's the first week back after the break and I'm running from my responsibilities rn lol.

This chapter starts off from Joel's perspective and shows where he's at after everything that went down in chapter one. We also learn more about reader's past, particularly the ex that she is trying super hard not to think about. It does give some perspective as to why she is hesitant to start anything with Joel but also, we can see her struggling with that because they are both down bad. A bit of a warning for some of the memories reader goes through pertaining to her ex. No physical violence, but he definitly took advantage of her as her professor and was emotionally abusive. If that is something you are uncomfortable with, please take care of yourself and do not read. You could always message me for a sparknotes version of the chapter if you don't want to miss out.

Either way, don't worry, there is loads of angsty fluff and pining as well. These two want to fuck each other so bad in this chapter that it hurts lol. Enjoy! <3

Chapter 2/10

Chapter 2: The Barbecue

The chips were set out, the drinks buried in tubs of ice, plates of meat and veggies waiting in the fridge for their turn on the grill, yet he couldn’t stop pacing. The moment that the sunrise had peeked through his blinds that morning, Joel Miller had been up and running. He knew he was being ridiculous. Despite his hectic schedule and two teens, the Miller home was usually kept rather tidy. However, the second his feet had touched down on the main floor, all his anxious eyes could see was filth. When was the last time Joel had scrubbed the walls or vacuumed in between the couch cushions? He couldn’t remember, which led to him starting off his day with a needless scrub down of every nook and cranny that any reasonable person would neglect.

Joel was being a bit much, he felt it in the glares that his daughters had both sent him at different points that morning due to his deranged scouring, but the usual embarrassment that came from their teasing was dwarfed by his nerves. Even when every surface in the house was practically sparkling from his efforts, he still couldn’t stop. Instead, Joel buried himself in the food preparations, further annoying his girls as he quizzed them on any food intolerances that any of his guests may have. By the time his worries about the food were soothed, after being reminded multiple times that they had already helped him write the list that he had brought with him to the grocery store, he was close to collapsing.

Something was brewing inside of Joel, something that made all of the air rush out of his lungs, that brightened the tips of his ears when his daughters teased him about it, that made him want to throw up when he thought about the last time he saw you. He had been stupid, so incredibly stupid that he had nearly had a panic attack when you left him on the porch that night. A migraine had gathered at the base of his skull after you bid him goodbye, forcing him to stumble home and collapse into bed with a frustrated huff. It was as if his brain was rejecting itself for bringing you any pain, betraying him for not being more careful with his words.

In his defense, Joel had been barely conscious at the restaurant that night, nodding along to a trust fund baby nearly half his age prattling on about the luxury homes he wanted the company to pump out for him. As much as Joel tried to stay present for the sake of the cash he was getting waved under his nose, he was out of his element. It was Tommy who usually handled all of the schmoozing, giving the clients that million dollar customer service smile that the eldest Miller lacked. However, after a mix up with the scheduling that had left the more sociable brother severely overbooked, Joel had been forced to step up.

“The thing is John, it’s John right? Anyways, I don’t want this to be a place for nobodies. This neighbourhood is going to be nice, a place where young families can go to be away from the rest of this dumpy town,” the client explained.

Joel had smiled politely, though he couldn’t help but imagine strangling the smug prick with his skinny necktie. He had seen tons of developers like him over the years, flashy assholes who wanted nothing more than to build a ridiculously expensive neighbourhood that made everyone else’s rents go up. He hated the homes that his wealthier client base always wanted. They were all the same, luxury homes that were devoid of any life or warmth. Just once, Joel wanted to go back to the basics, to work on a place with a little bit of character or at least be allowed to paint the outside of the building something other than grey. But with this guy, he knew there wasn’t any chance.

“I want the neighbourhood to look clean, ya know? And it can’t be trashy if all of the places look alike. Plus, with a fair price on the mortgages given how nice you’ll make it, we can make sure that the riff raff stays out,” the developer continued, his pointed words grating on Joel to no end.

“Yeah, I think I get what you’re saying,” Joel sighed, swirling the little bit of whiskey left in the bottom of his glass.

Joel suddenly wished he had taken a cab, maybe then he could have slammed enough drinks to make the meeting interesting enough to withstand. The client kept chattering, the sound of his nasally voice slowly blending into the upbeat hits that were making his ears ring. He thought about calling the whole thing off, wondering if he could ask for forgiveness from his brother later if he made up a good enough excuse. However, just as he was about to excuse himself with a fake family emergency, his eyes landed upon you. Or rather, they landed upon you with him.

Jealousy had seeped into Joel’s chest as he watched the way your date’s hand had pushed against your space between your shoulders, leading you to the table with a wolfish grin plastered across his face. All of Joel’s coronary arteries constricted at that, the sight of you being pushed into the table by another man making him burn bright with rage. And yet, he couldn’t look away. The heels that made your legs look a mile long, the makeup that accentuated all of the features that had haunted him since your first day in town, the messy updo that showed off the gentle slope of your neck, were all so infuriatingly perfect. Infuriating especially because Joel knew that it wasn’t for him.

Joel was jealous. He was jealous and he knew that it was stupid to feel that way. Afterall, he had only met you once. Christ, but what a meeting it had been, he thought to himself as he tried not to remember your damp body on display for him. However, no matter how hard he tried to remind himself that you were basically a stranger, that his stupid crush didn’t mean anything to you and shouldn’t, the green monster had been released. It clawed at the inside of his ribcage, tearing his heart to shreds the longer he stared at you all dolled up for another man. He had no claim over you and yet, the envy he felt towards your date had dug its talons into his soul and refused to let go.

Nevertheless, the more time went on, the more antsy Joel became. Something was off, he saw it in the way you squirmed uncomfortably in your chair, or how you began to shrink even further into your seat each time your date rushed off to the bathroom. It was only after the dickhead had shuffled back over for a third time that Joel truly understood what was going on and with you suddenly on the verge of tears, flashing the man across from you a forced grin, he was enraged.

“Anyways John, I’m sure your company will do fine. I’ve talked to your brother a bit. He seems more uh… my speed. I’ll get my secretary to send over the paperwork to him and then we can get started, okay?,” the younger man had asked him, stretching his hand out for him to take.

“Yep, sounds good man,” Joel answered, quickly shaking the hand outstretched to him.

The client had said his goodbyes after that, likely not wanting to sit and socialize with the gruff contractor that had begun to actively ignore him. Quite frankly, Joel didn’t care what the guy thought of him. His work spoke for itself. Plus, he would make his apologies later if need be but at that moment, he had bigger fish to fry.

Although the jealousy that Joel had felt was still there, flaring up every time his eyes raked over your beautifully done up figure, the edges of it had softened as the minutes ticked by. That man, whoever he was, was a certified asshole. Aside from the frequent trips to the bathroom, with each return making your date’s vice of choice more obvious than before, Joel couldn’t help but notice how silent you had become. Distress practically rolled off of your tense shoulders, reaching out to him from across the room and thickening the lining of his throat until he felt like he might burst out into tears himself if something wasn’t done.

Joel had willed himself to yell out, to beg you to speak up from his seat at the bar. He wanted to see you rip your date a new one and walk out with your pretty head held high, but none of that came to pass. Instead, his heart had gotten heavier and heavier as you got smaller and smaller, until he at last couldn’t take it anymore.

Before your date had even fully left the table for his final bathroom trip of the night, Joel was already halfway out of his seat. He slammed down a wad of bills for his drink before he left, not even looking at the ridiculous amount he had left the bartender as he hurried towards the other end of the room. His sole focus was the beautiful woman whose eyes were glossed over as she bounced off of the service staff with the grace of a newborn deer, trying and failing to keep it together as the rich pricks around her failed to hide their amusement.

“Oh honey,” Joel groaned under his breath as he spied your purse still slung over your chair, quickly switching paths so that you wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of returning for it after your frazzled escape.

Everything that had come afterwards had happened so fast that it was practically a blur to him now. Although, your teary eyed face was burned into Joel’s memory, still beautiful yet so raw as you tried to keep from balling in front of him when he finally caught up to you outside. And then came the punch he had launched at your date, an act of violence that was so out of character for a man his age, a man that had given up bar fights the second his first child had slid into the world, that he didn’t even know what to think. That ride home had been tense, with him trying not to freak out over the snap decision while he drove you home, terrified that it might get back to his kids somehow as you sniffled and sighed beside him.

It was at a red light that Joel had finally made up his mind about the incident. As he watched you try to wipe the smeared eyeliner off of your face, eyes red as a fresh wave of tears ruined your progress, he decided that he didn’t regret the punch one bit. How dare that asshole make you, or any woman for that matter, feel so horrible. The woman he had met a month prior had been tired, a bit sad even, but not diminished. There had been a flicker of light in your eyes, one that Joel hoped to stroke into a roaring flame someday if you gave him a chance, but in that moment it had all but vanished. And the longer he had sat in his truck that night, listening to you trying to breathe through your distress, the more he wanted to rain hellfire down on anyone who ever made the mistake of hurting you.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel hissed, coming back to the present as hot water suddenly scalded his hands.

Dropping the glass he was scrubbing back into the soapy water, Joel placed both of his hands on the edges of the sink and sighed. He had tried not to let himself think about it since that night, about how hard he wanted to punch any man who made you frown like that. And that moment, with the way things had ended on Thursday, he was at the top of his own list.

Joel needed to make things right with you, he needed it like the air he breathed. For a month he had run to the front windows every time he heard the tell tale signs of your clunky Honda making its way back home, hoping to catch a glimpse of the goddess next door. And now, with the events of your date night still fresh in his mind, along with his piss-poor excuse for an apology the previous morning, he was close to driving to the coast and walking straight into the ocean. Joel sighed, growing more disgruntled by the second. He needed to make things right with you, lest he be doomed to pining for you from afar and getting teased by his family members until you inevitably met a more handsome man that he would be unreasonably jealous of.

“Look, I really appreciate what you did for me today. I know that this was not how you probably wanted to spend your Thursday, but you don’t have to stay. I’m fine, everything is great. You can go back to the people you’ve got and I’ll go back to… Uh, this,” you had laughed bitterly, gesturing towards the empty house, “I mean, this is all I’ve got, right?”

Joel Miller was not the best at expressing himself, that much was glaringly obvious. But your words, the way you had thanked him for something he had done on his volition while simultaneously disparaging yourself, had taken him completely off guard. It was preposterous, the thought of someone like you having nothing in your life other than the fixer upper you went home to at the end of the day.

If only you knew how much the girls adored you, practically gushing about the interesting woman that they cornered at every turn and forced into movie nights. Or, how Joel greedily sucked up any tidbit of information about you they sprinkled into their stories, cataloging everything he learned in case he may one day get the chance to use it. Whether you knew it or not, you had the Miller clan under lock and key, especially their patriarch. Though, given the fact that he had gone AWOL since your first day in Austin, he understood why you wouldn’t think to include him on your list of friends.

The last month of work had been tough. With the school year coming to a close and summer biting at his ankles, the company was set for a busy season of jobs and Joel had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off to keep up with the preparations. Each morning, he was gone at an ungodly hour, barely managing to wait for the coffee to brew most days. Still, that didn’t mean that Joel wasn’t looking for you in all that time, that he didn’t long to be in your presence again. The few glimpses he caught of you after work made his day and he found himself dreaming about the sundresses you wore or the way the light made your hair shine. Even his girls, as quick as they were to tease him about everything under the sun, had shifted their tact from razzing him to outright begging him to do something about his obvious attraction. In their words, he was getting downright pathetic.

“What’s got your head in the clouds?,” Tommy teased, his brother’s loud voice rudely snapping him from the thoughts that were unsurprisingly centered around you.

“New lady just moved in across the street, he’s in loooove,” Ellie singsonged, words muffled around a mouth full of the cookie dough that she had snagged from the freezer.

“Say it, don’t spray it kiddo,” Joel grunted, shaking his head at his daughter as she opened her mouth in defiance, showcasing all of her unchewed food before she flipped him off.

“S’that right? Well I’ll be, you didn’t tell me you were seeing anybody,” his brother laughed.

Joel sighed, suddenly wondering if it had been a good idea to invite you over. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you in his home, filling it with laughter and warmth as you left traces of your delicious perfume on hopefully every surface. Having you over was probably his greatest desire, second only to the far off fantasy of his crappy attempts at being funny being the reason you were laughing so hard, but he couldn’t help his own nerves. What if you didn’t have fun? What if Tommy said something embarrassing? What if you thought his home was a dumpster fire? What if too many people came? What if his girls told you about the stupid crush that he so obviously harbored? And worst of all, what if you never showed?

That last one was what Joel feared the most. He hadn’t meant to imply that you didn’t have anybody and yet, that was how it came out. The breakfast and the note he had left was a cheap apology, but he couldn’t think of what else to do. He was so sure that you would leave his gift on the porch to rot, perhaps even text him a long winded message that amounted to a succinct fuck you, but instead he had been surprised by a short thank you message, followed by a question about what time the event started. Joel had answered the text with shaky hands, buzzing with excitement and terror as he tried to answer as casually as he could. With all the information you could ever need, even with his many nerve induced spelling errors, there was no reason for you not to come. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to worry about it.

“Leave him be guys, he looks like he’s going to barf,” Sarah chastised as she strolled into the kitchen, drawing a few laughs from the rest of his family.

“Christ almighty, m’not gonna barf. Worry about yourselves,” Joel groaned, praying for any higher power to smite him before his nausea proved her wrong.

Nobody answered him, preferring instead to give each other amused looks as Joel returned to scrubbing the dishwasher spots from all of his best glasses. With how many red solo cups he had on hand in case any of the adults preferred a mixed drink instead of the sodas, beers, and coolers he had on deck, the quick scrub down was pointless but his brain couldn’t stop playing the what if game. Like what if all of the plastic cups got used up by the time you arrived and you were forced to drink out of one of his? The last thing Joel wanted was for you to see all the little white specks. That was careless. It was less than you deserved. And he couldn’t allow that.

“Dad, you need to chill out. The place looks great, we’ve got way too much food and drinks, and there will be plenty of people here to talk you up. Everything is going to be fine, I promise. She’s gonna have a great time,” Sarah said, nudging him away from the sink so she could finish up.

“I’m not, that’s not -,” Joel cleared his throat, “That’s not what this is. I just want everyone to feel at home. Is that such a crime? Everyone deserves to have a good time. I-I need to make things right with uh - with everyone. Why is that so hard for you guys to understand?”

Joel winced at his own transparency. He was usually better at hiding his love life from his family, if the flings he had over the years even counted as such. But you were different. He didn’t want you to be like the rest, he wanted you all to himself. Alas, he probably wasn’t even on your radar yet, which meant that claiming that you were a part of his love life was false.

“Right, well if you’re trying to impress everyone, then you should probably put in a little bit more effort than that, old man. Can’t be letting everyone think that you dress like a friggin’ slob,” Ellie suggested, her eyes raking up and down his figure in disapproval.

Joel balked, looking down at his outfit. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to wear, too busy tearing through his house like a madman for any spec of dirt he could find. It wasn’t like dressing up was really his thing anyways. Most of his days were spent in beaten up work clothes or the sweatpants he threw on at the end of the day but he wanted to do better, even though he couldn’t remember the last time he had spruced himself up for a lady, much less one that had infiltrated his brain like you had.

“Hmmm yeah, and everyone would also probably appreciate it if you showered first. You’re a bit too rank right now to be pulling any moves on everyone, unless of course your goal is to make them gag,” Sarah chuckled as she placed the last glass back into the cupboard.

As much as Joel wanted to argue, they had a point. With sweat darkening nearly every inch of his shirt, his curls in disarray, and his body odor souring even the inside of his own nostrils, he was truly disgusting. His eyes snapped towards the clock, lips forming a grim line as he saw the time. One hour. He had one hour before people, perhaps even you, started pouring into his home. How in the hell was he supposed to shower, find something decent to wear, figure out what to do with his hair, and have one last meltdown, all before you arrived?

“There’s an outfit laid out on your bed, compliments of your two loving daughters who got woken up by your loud-ass cleaning spree this morning. Don’t change a thing about it, just put it on when you’re out of the shower and then fix your hair. Go,” Sarah commanded him.

“What? C’mon, I can dress myself!,” he halfheartedly protested, earning him a look from everyone in the room.

“Yeah, yeah, you can thank us after you ask her out,” Ellie chuckled, slapping him on the back as she swerved past to pilfer through the freezer once more.

Joel sighed, trying not to let his utter embarrassment overwhelm him as he started towards the stairs.

“Fine, just don’t be getting into the appetizers while I’m gone,” Joel announced, turning back to give them all a look before he started to climb the steps.

The half assed grunts of acknowledgement that Joel got in response were not encouraging, but he was too flustered to care. He took the stairs two at a time, needing to get as much distance between him and his family before he threw himself off the roof. By the time he got back to his room, he was so turned around that he could barely figure out how to get the shower going and almost ripped the faucet off the wall in his haste. Even still, the only thing that kept him sane in that moment, despite all of his panic induced spiraling, was you.

Joel didn’t know you. He didn’t know your favourite ice cream, or if you had broken any bones as a kid, or even why you had decided to work in a library of all places, but he wanted to. God, he wanted to know you so badly that it was driving him crazy. The way your energy bounced off of his in the few moments he had with you so far, reviving the small pieces of him that had been chipped away from years of focusing on his work, on raising his daughters, on keeping the past at bay for his family’s sake, made him feel like he was finally coming back to himself.

Every piece reborn made him want to try a little more, until Joel was foolishly ready to lose all of his senses and beg you to let him be your one and only. It was much too soon for anything like that, but being in your presence was like touching a livewire, like reading a book by a warm fire, like freefalling through the sky, like falling into bed at the end of a long day. It was as terrifying and exciting, as it was calming and gentle, and Joel wanted more. Scratch that, he needed more.

So, as Joel hurried under the lukewarm spray, scrubbing any trace of his hectic morning off of his body, he tried hard to not to think about all of the things that could go wrong. You would come, you would have fun, and Joel would be as charming as someone like him possibly could. Then maybe, just maybe, you might forget about his previous blunders and give him a second chance. Who knows, he thought to himself, sighing as he tried to remember the last time he had been so obsessed, a man could hope.

- You -

The fan was a stupid idea, especially with how downright disgusting your house had become as the hours ticked by, but what else could you possibly do? Your air conditioner, the beautiful beast that had served you for almost eleven years, had finally petered out and died at some point the previous night. Already curled up in bed, you hadn’t noticed until early that morning, when you woke up cranky and covered in sweat, the Texas heat oozing through all of your big and beautiful windows. Despite all of the tutorials online, the damn thing refused to work, leaving you with no other choice than to cook inside all day.

The morning had been tough, especially when a letter from someone you hoped to never hear from again came in the mail. Sighing as you felt how light it was, you abandoned it on the counter, not wanting to ruin the day before it had even begun. Nothing with him had ever been easy and you sighed, kicking yourself for believing that he would actually sign the divorce papers you had sent in the mail. Nevertheless, you decided to ignore how the unopened letter made you feel, choosing instead to focus on the day ahead.

With thoughts of Joel and his utterly confusing yet exciting presence running through your mind, you refused to let him rain on your parade. Across the street there was a handsome man who had first rescued you from back breaking labor during your move, and then later one of the worst dates you had ever been on. A man who, much to your dismay as a newly single woman for the first time in ten years, intrigued you to no end. You spent the entire day basically vibrating from excitement, counting the seconds until you could start getting ready.

A half hour before the barbecue was set to start, you jumped into the shower, hoping that a toe curling icy shower would help you race through your makeup routine without acquiring too much sweat. And yet, after five minutes of shaking from the cold, your limbs had slowly but surely thawed out. No matter how speedy your usual makeup routine was, there was no escaping the heat that caused it to melt off of your face.

Spraying yet another heavy layer of setting spray, you sighed. You had done your best given the circumstances. Despite the sweat that clung to your hairline, along with the annoying last minute outfit change after your first dress had become drenched in sweat, you looked okay. Not as great as you had originally hoped, but not awful. That had to count for something you supposed.

“Goddammit,” you sighed, already regretting your decision to accept Joel’s invitation.

As you stood in front of the mirror, fixing the straps on the pink sundress that showcased an appropriate amount of cleavage and hugged your curves just right, you couldn’t help but feel a bit silly. It was a barbecue, a family friendly event that Joel had invited you to, just as any friendly neighbour would. And yet, there you were, dolled up and sweating. At least if he had invited you out of some sort of neighbourly obligation, he probably wouldn’t notice how disheveled you were.

It was that thought that got you through the door and across the street. Joel Miller was trying to be a friend, and surely a friend wouldn’t care about another friend’s sweaty face on a day as hot as this one. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you knocked on the door, ignoring the way your heart pounded alongside the music you could hear coming from the backyard. It sounded packed inside, much busier than any typical barbecue, and you suddenly longed for the comfort of your own home again. When nobody came, you stood there in silence for a few more seconds, biting your lip as you debated retreating back to safety. However, all of your escape plans were foiled when a curly haired teen yanked the door open.

“Hey - oh shit,” Sarah cussed, concern trickling into her tone.

“What? What is it?,” you asked quickly, stomach twisting as her eyes examined every inch of your face.

Heart pounding, you ripped open your purse, pulling out a compact so that you could have a look at the damage. It was only then that you saw the travesty that the heat had created. The once nearly acceptable look was literally melting off of your face from the heat, creating a mess that even the kindest of strangers would be hard pressed to ignore. You looked like a clown that had gotten jumped, and given the sounds of the lively party going on behind the teen, you suddenly felt like one too.

“Shit, what the hell happened to you?,” Ellie exclaimed, popping up from behind her sister.

“I-I um, my AC broke and I couldn’t -,” you sighed, suddenly wishing you had never come in the first place.

“Oh my god, shut up Ellie! Do you think she needs to hear that right now?! Ugh, you’re as clueless as Tommy sometimes,” Sarah groaned, roughly shoving her sister’s head out of the doorframe,“Get out of here, would you? Go distract dad so I can sneak her upstairs. We’ve got some work to do.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to…”

Sarah’s gaze turned back towards you, playful yet pointed as she examined the state of you. Wordlessly she raked her eyes up and down your rumpled form, cocking her eyebrow as if to say really? Heat crept up your neck, a small laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation bubbling up from within as you watched Ellie soldier off in search of her father. It didn’t take long for her to find him apparently, as Sarah was soon rushing you up the stairs and into her room before anyone could see your disheveled state.

Although most of the original makeup had to be wiped off, you had to admit that the girl had a talent for eyeliner, and even managed to corral your sweaty strands back into a cute braid that kept it from sticking to the sides of your face. When Sarah was done you looked different, like yourself but slightly elevated. The makeup was a lot simpler than what you would normally do but it looked good, cute even.

“What do you think? I know it’s nothing fancy, but I think you look really pretty like this,” Sarah chirped, the hope evident in her voice.

You smiled back at her in the mirror, chest tight with emotion as you did. Maybe your only friends at the moment were two teenage girls but damn, were they better company than the vultures you had been friends with before coming to Austin. The friends you used to have would have gladly let you stumble through the party downstairs with your face basically dripping down down to your neck, but not the Miller girls. They had helped and much to your dismay, the eldest had even done a better job at fixing up your face than you had.

“It’s beautiful Sarah, I love it,” you said truthfully, giving her arm a squeeze as you turned around, “Thank you for this, I was getting ready to run home and bar the windows.”

“Eeek! Okay good,” she squealed, shaking your shoulders in excitement, “Now you can go meet everyone. Ugh, but you should probably go see dad first. He’s been asking us every two seconds if you’ve shown up yet. It’s like dude, she’s coming just give her some time to walk across the street before you freak out.”

“Y-Your dad asked about me?,” you asked lightly, trying and failing to keep it cool.

Sarah raised her eyebrows at that, her knowing look making you want to bury your head in the pillows and scream. The last thing you needed was for the stupid crush you had on Joel Miller to become public knowledge, much less the knowledge of one of the most chattiest people you knew.

“Oh big time. He’s been losing his mind about having you here since Friday morning,” she said with a sly grin, “Pretty much turned the house inside out this morning trying to get everything perfect. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad so excited about having people over. He usually hates it but he got so nervous that he let Uncle Tommy be in charge of the guest list.”

You didn’t answer, too busy trying to control the visceral reaction your nervous system was having to her comment. Joel Miller had been freaking out… over you? That couldn’t be right, not when you had spent the last month convincing yourself that he was a figment of your imagination, or the past 24 hours trying to convince yourself that he was nothing but an overly friendly neighbor.

“I - um… I don’t…,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

Sarah waved you off, holding out her hand to you instead with a comically wide grin.

“Come on, let’s get down there.”

The barbecue had turned into a bit of a house party in the time it had taken Sarah to fix you up. The house was filled with neighbours mingling with construction crews, kids playing games in the pool out back, and rowdy family members that seemed to be very interested in meeting you. Tommy was the first one you met after he caught Sarah trying to sneak you past. He was kind, seemingly familiar with everyone, and comfortable enough to give you a hug so forceful that it nearly knocked you off balance. It was a stark contrast to the more reserved way Joel carried himself, but it was refreshing nonetheless. His girlfriend, Maria, was less boisterous than him but no less kind, and you soon found yourself at long last conversing with adults your own age who didn’t seem like absolute assholes.

As the pair asked you about your career, education, even the home improvements you planned to do on the bungalow across the street, you felt uncharacteristically at ease. The two of them listened dutifully while you talked, while both of the Miller girls filtered in and out of the conversation as some of their friends showed up. And in turn, you listened to their stories, smiling through every tale that included the southern stud that had eluded you thus far.

Through their stories, you learned that the eldest Miller had once been a swimmer, that he needed glasses terribly but refused to wear them, and that he used to be in a shitty garage band when he was younger. Their stories helped humanize the confusing man. Instead of remaining the handsome stranger who had come to the rescue, he was suddenly the guy who used to shave all of his body hair in highschool so he could get the best time score at swim meets, the guy who gets his daughters to read the fine print on pretty much everything, the guy who once grew his hair out and sang at smoky bars throughout Texas. He was just a regular guy, albeit a handsome and thoughtful one, but a regular guy nonetheless. That comforted you to no end.

“Aw look, here comes trouble,” Tommy called out, interrupting his own juicy story about the time his brother had been kicked out of his own show for swinging on a guy in the crowd that had grabbed one of the waitresses.

“If I’m trouble, then you’re a goddamn villain Tomcat,” Joel drawled, flicking the brim of his brother’s hat as he did.

“Fuck you,” Tommy laughed, dodging another flick as he retreated back to Maria’s side.

“I see you found your way,” Joel said to you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since the disastrous date night just two nights prior.

You really wished Joel would stop looking at you like that. His eyes peered past your exterior, sinking deep into your soul as you took him in all of his glory in. The form-fitting jeans he had chosen, the white t-shirt that fit over his meaty biceps just right, the way his hair was pushed back from his face, the smell of his spicy cologne, was all enough to make someone as neglected as you faint.

You bit your bottom lip, trying not to swoon as you felt Joel’s eyes slide over your body, zeroing in on the way the pink fabric clung to the curves he had seen bare a little over a month ago. He looked just handsome as he had that day, the slight adjustments to his attire only adding to his usual sexy self. And with the heat of his stare scalding every inch of your body, covered or not, you knew that you’d happily give him another peek the second he asked.

“Yeah I mean, hard to get lost when it’s right across the street,” you awkwardly joked, earning a few chuckles from the group.

But Joel didn’t laugh, he just smiled at you, all of the lines in his face smoothing over as he did and you couldn’t help but stare. His mustache was trimmed to perfection, beautifully framing the pouty set of lips that stretched around the grin he gave you. A funny feeling trickled into your lower belly as you stared at his plush mouth, tightening the muscles between your thighs until you were throbbing there. Heart pounding in your chest, you snapped your eyes back up to meet his, knowing that if you stared at his lips any longer, you would be doing something utterly moronic like launching forward to kiss him. Dizzied and drunk off of his heady scent and hypnotic stare, you were frozen, wanting nothing more than to place your hands on the broad expanse of his chest despite the fact that his family was quietly watching the exchange from mere inches away.

“Good, m’glad you came darling,” he said quietly, almost like he was admitting something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Really?,” you squeaked.

A guffaw came from behind you.

“Christ, the girls are right. You two are really something else,” Tommy piped up, shattering the bubble of solace that the two of you had built.

Joel’s face twisted in annoyance, the tips of his ears going bright red as he glowered at his brother. The youngest of the Miller men just laughed and rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Joel’s shoulders so he could playfully shake him.

“Ya know what? I think that grill is getting pretty lonely out there. Why don’t you two go check on the grub? Joel can flip ‘em and you can make sure he don’t burn nothing,” Tommy suggested, giving his brother a slap on the back for good measure before he released him.

“Oh um, yeah sure,” you stammered, unsure of what else to say.

The thought of being alone with Joel was daunting but with the way he stared at you even when you looked away, the heat of his gaze hot against the side of your face, you decided that you were game for any activity involving him.

“S’fine, you don’t have to help me sweetheart. I can handle it just fine if you wanted to mingle a bit,” Joel said quickly, the urgency in his tone making you frown.

Did Joel not want to hang out with you? Was the thought of spending time with you that awful? Your stomach roiled, dread leaking in through the cracks in your chest and poisoning the hopefulness that had taken root there. Given your many years living in the city, you couldn’t exactly say that you were a pro at barbecuing, but you were willing to try if it meant you could bask in his attention for a bit longer. You sighed, letting all of hopes of getting a moment alone with him drain out of you, shoulders sagging in disappointment. It made sense that Joel didn’t want you out there. Afterall, why would he want to awkwardly stand outside and make nice with the crazy woman across the street that was in constant need of assistance?

“I don’t have to if you don’t uh - if you don’t want me to. Doesn’t matter to me, I could just stay in here if that’s better for you,” you rushed out, trying to ignore just how much it really did matter for some reason.

“Course I want you to.”

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his again and finding nothing but truthfulness behind them. Something warm and thick bloomed deep inside your belly, blossoming up towards your chest until you were sure butterflies were about to start pouring from your mouth the next time you spoke. Joel stepped closer, holding out one of those big hands that you had been imagining between your thighs. Looking up, you saw the same hope you felt mirrored back in him and you didn’t hesitate to give him your hand, happily allowing him to whisk you away from his family.

The warmth of Joel’s rough palm was soothing, along with the way he pulled you closer to him as he weaved throughout the crowd. It was as if he was shielding you from everyone else, keeping you safe from the construction guys who were drinking beers and talking sports, or the drunken neighbours in the kitchen that were doing jello shots that someone had brung. He even pulled you against him for a moment as a few of the neighbourhood kids scampered by, trapping you between his chest and the wall to keep you from getting soaked by the water guns that their parents were yelling at them to take back outside. His frame pressed against yours, his eyes vigilant as he timed his next move amidst the chaos. You tried not to react when he looked down at you for a moment, stealing all the breath from your lungs as his nose bumped against yours accidentally but just as you thought that your protector might finally devour you, he was on the move again.

When Joel finally reached the patio door, you were three sheets to the wind, completely drunk off of him and praying that he would never let go of your hand again. But alas, with the heat of Austin in full swing and the pool filled with families, there was no reason for him to keep holding it any longer. With no other crowds to conquer, Joel dropped your hand, breaking the connection that was sending a thrill up your spine so he could check on the food.

“Alright, so what’s the game plan?,” you asked shakily, trying to break the tension as you skipped up beside him.

“Game plan?,” Joel repeated, sounding incredulous as he turned to look at you with a toothy grin,“What d'ya mean?”

“The game plan! Your brother designated me as number two on the grill and I’ll have you know that I take my duties extremely seriously,” you said with a mock salute.

He snorted and shook his head at your antics, “S’that right? Well, how about you hand me that meat thermometer and we can see just how cooked these bad boys are.”

“Yes sir.”

It was meant as a joke really, another cheeky remark for Joel to snort over. However, as you watched his spine go rim rod straight, his dark gaze piercing through you as he turned to take you in, you saw the error in your choice of phrase. Although his cheeks were dusted with a light shade of pink, a bit of embarrassment reddening the high points of his distinguished face, his eyes were downright ravenous. A memory trickled into your mind, one where those same eyes had nearly swallowed you whole as they took in every inch of your nude body, and although the pretty sundress you had chosen was secured to your frame, you suddenly felt just as naked under his gaze as you had that day.

Was Joel thinking about your first meeting? God, you hoped so, and you tried to imagine what he would look like in a similar situation. Would Joel race to pick up his towel, apologizing as he tried to cover up his gloriously nude form? Or would he have the same problem as you did, would he be unable to move under your stare despite the aching cock below his navel? And the more you imagined the roles reversed, the more you realized that Joel should be commended for his restraint. If you had seen him in that state, his body still damp and his cock hard, your response would have been to climb him like a tree.

Joel licked his lips, sighing quietly before he shook his head at the look you gave him. He felt it too, whatever was growing between you, flowering under the hot sun as your neighbours bobbed in the pool just meters away. The swimmers were the only thing keeping the two of you in check, both sets of hands twitching at their sides like they were resisting the urge to grab one another. Another few moments passed, moments where you stared at each other through thinly veiled lust, before Joel finally turned away. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, messing up the carefully gelled curls in a way that you found incredibly endearing before he sighed and nodded towards the thermometer within your reach.

“Fuckin’ trouble,” you heard him mumble under his breath, which made you giggle a bit.

“Hm maybe, but I think you like that about me Miller,” you shot back with a wink as you handed him the thermometer.

Joel looked over at you again, making you freeze in place. His expression made you feel like his prey in the best way possible. Like any cheeky comment or seductive wink might cause him to break and throw you over his shoulder like some sort of caveman, stomping upstairs so that he could have his way with you despite the guests. Time slowed, the cacophony of noises coming from the party softened by the buzzing energy growing between you. He stepped into your space, his overwhelming presence growing ten times larger as his hulking frame towered over you again and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

The two of you were practically nose to nose when Joel leaned down, getting so close that you could see the flecks of a lighter brown, almost hazel, mixed in with the rest of the melted chocolate. He was bold, brazen in his powers of seduction as he watched you quiver from the proximity. Those big puppy dog eyes searched yours, the corners of his mouth turning upwards ever so slightly when he found whatever it was he was looking for. Perhaps he could sense just how drenched the gusset of your panties were from simply being in his presence. You didn’t care if he did, especially since his own interest was as clear as day.

“I do like it,” Joel admitted, his voice so soft that you almost thought you dreamt it.

A shaky breath was released from you as you shifted a tad bit closer, the blazing heat of Joel’s chest so enticing that you boldly placed both of your hands on his chest. He didn’t react at first, other than the tiniest hitch of his breath that you would have missed if you weren’t literally touching him, but then he moved. Two big burly arms wrapped around you, one hand resting at the small of your back and pushing you closer while the other gripped your hip, his gaze remaining steady as ever regardless of the embrace.

“Joel,” you whispered, not trusting your voice as a surge of want burned through the both of you like wildfire.

Surely Joel felt the way you shook under him, the nerves mixing with pure excitement as your eyes begged him to do something, anything. He studied your face, a deep flush creeping down his neck as the two of you stayed locked in an embrace that was somehow more intimate than any kiss you had experienced in your entire life. And Joel seemed to sense this, his arms holding you a bit tighter until you calmed from the overwhelming surge of emotions that his welcome touch tore from you. When the shakes were gone, laid to rest by the same man that had started them, all that remained was yearning for him, for Joel.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” Joel whispered, the hand on your hip moving up to brush a few errant strands of hair from your face, “I can feel it too.”

The admission struck you hard, making your eyes widen despite your best attempts to play it off. Joel felt it too. What did he mean by that? Did he daydream about you while he was at work too? Did he wonder what your voice sounded like in the mornings? Did he lay in bed at night, rubbing himself raw to the thought of you fucking the shit out of him? That last part sounded like a stretch but based on the heat gathering between you, along with the way his eyes periodically flicked downwards to take in the sight of your heaving breasts, maybe it wasn’t as far off as you had once thought.

“Joel! How much longer for the - Oh shit, well howdy there to you too neighbour! Looks like the two grill masters are getting along just fine out here by themselves,” Tommy hollered, his jab getting a round of raucous laughter from inside.

The Miller house was equipped with many things that made it beautiful, one thing being a sliding glass door to the backyard that the two of you were standing in front of. With the rest of the party turned towards you with shit eating grins, along with the intimate embrace on full display for what felt like the entirety of Austin, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to sink through the cracks in the boards below and cease to exist. The heat that you had felt when Joel touched you shifted into something much more menacing, something cruel and embarrassing, something that made you feel like you were miles away and being put on display for the millionth time by the man you had once thought loved you.

“Don’t,” Joel barked at his brother, his authoritative tone leaving no room for discussion as he slowly retracted himself.

Tommy’s face fell, a curious look in his eyes as they flickered between the two of you. After a moment, the younger man held his arms up in mock defense, earning an annoyed huff from the man beside you. Although everyone inside had already moved on from the announcement, you shifted closer to Joel, using his large frame as a cover from the heavy weight of shame that had been programmed into you for years.

“My bad y’all, it was a stupid joke,” Tommy said apologetically, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, “Maria just sent me out to check on how long the food should be. She was gonna send the girls out to set up the salads and shit when you’re ready.”

“Send ‘em out in five minutes or so,” Joel grunted, annoyance laced through every single syllable, “Shouldn’t be long.”

With that, Tommy disappeared back inside, leaving the two of you alone again. You bit your lip as you watched him go, trying to see if anyone else was still leering at you from within the house but everyone seemed too busy chatting with each other to pay any attention to either of you. Sighing, you relaxed a bit. At least this neighbourhood moved on quicker than your last one.

“M’sorry about that sweetheart. Tommy doesn’t mean any harm but he’s just…,” Joel sighed and shook his head, “He’s not the best at reading the room. Embarrassing ya probably wasn’t his goal, he just never knows where the damn line is.”

“It’s… It’s okay, I just don’t really like being in the spotlight like that, ” you said softly, still feeling a bit antsy despite your best attempts at calming your racing heart, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I know that Tommy didn’t mean anything by it, let’s just move on.”

“Why do you do that?,” he asked suddenly.

The question took you off guard, so much so that it broke through your nerves and diminished the shakes that were wracking your frame again. At first you thought that Joel was making a cruel joke, that he was poking fun at your inability to thrive in social settings, but when you looked in his eyes all you saw was an earnest curiosity.

“I didn’t want to make anyone upset or for any of your friends to get the wrong idea about you by seeing us like that. Plus, I know that I can be too much sometimes, just tell me if I get too annoying or something,” you sighed.

Too much, that had been your moniker for years. Whether it was the way you dressed, your apparently over the top contributions to conversations, or the love you had for your work when someone asked; the most common complaint had been that you were a presence that somehow overwhelmed and fell short at the same time. Slowly, you had learned to be quieter, to make yourself miniscule so that you didn’t distract from the real star of the show that you were meant to prop up, to be as perfect as you could when necessary before retreating back to your books and the lonely apartment you shared with a ghost. To be on display in any context where you didn’t look utterly flawless felt wrong. Worse than wrong, it felt like failure.

“You’re not too much honey, you’re just enough f’me.”

Stunned by Joel’s words, you blinked up at him, unsure of what to say in response to that. All of the oxygen left your lungs, the excess air whooshing out of you all at once, and you tried to think of something to say. However, luckily for you, he wasn’t done.

“Plus, how in the hell could I be embarrassed by someone like you? It’s me that you should be embarrassed about. Christ, I can’t even keep my damn hands to myself when I’m supposed to be watching the damn grill. S’all my fault really, I couldn’t help it,” Joel murmured apologetically.

You shook your head, absolutely shocked by his words. Joel didn’t move to hold you again, likely fearful of the reaction he would get after his brother’s joke had embarrassed you so badly, but he did reach out. A shiver ran through you as one of his thick fingers pushed your hair behind your ear, lingering near your jaw for just a moment like he couldn’t help his need for even the slightest of touches before he dropped it back down to his side.

“If anything,” Joel started, a playfulness to his tone as he turned back towards the food, “You’re the exact opposite of too much honey. I mean, it’s like I’m neighbours with a goddamn hermit or something. Only ever see ya coming back from work at the end of the day.”

A small chuckle broke through your frayed nerves, releasing some of the tension that had been building between you since the second he dragged you outside.

“My apologies Mr. Miller, I wasn’t aware that I had loyal fans watching my every move,” you teased, grabbing one the plates beside him so that he could start taking the food off the grill.

Joel laughed, “Well, all I’m saying is that I hope you don’t disappear on me again. Can’t be putting together an event like this every time I want to see that face of yours.”

“Oh, so this was all just a ploy to see me then?,” you asked, giggling at the dark splotches of red that flooded his cheeks in response.

“I-I uh, well not exactly. I do sometimes um, sometimes I have barbecues like this. I like to cook and the girls,” he cleared his throat, “The girls said that you like to er… eat food.”

Joel winced and you cackled, throwing your head back as you laughed at his shaky excuse. The thought of him hosting such a big event in hopes that you might come by was adorable, as well as a tad bit frightening. Nobody had ever done something so big for you and for some reason, you felt like you should apologize for making him go to such lengths. But his previous words played over and over in your mind - you’re not too much honey, you’re just enough f’me - and you let it soothe you.

Joel Miller was a grown man who made his own choices. Even if he threw you a million barbecues to get your attention, it didn’t mean that you were too demanding. You hadn’t even asked for the first one. He had thrown this party all on his own, simply because he wanted to get your attention. That wasn’t cause for fear, it was cause for celebration. Someone had done something for you, something that you had thoroughly enjoyed despite the momentary panic that came from his youngest brother’s taunting. Regardless of the little demons in your brain trying to ruin the moment, you decided to ignore them, to enjoy the warmth that came from having the attention be on you in a good way for once.

“Well, you have my number now so you could always text me if you wanted to see me. Not that this isn’t great, but it must have been a lot of work just to hang out with little old me. I can’t be that scary, am I? I promise that I don’t bite… usually,” you joked.

He chuckled, nudging you with his side as he continued to plate the food. It was a small gesture but it made you grin, the feeling of his body pressing into yours for even the most fleeting of moments so natural and calming that you longed for him to do it again. Physical touch was not something you had ever been averted to per se, but you had never yearned for someone’s touch like Joel’s. His touch lit a fire underneath your skin and you knew that the flames could only possibly be soothed by more.

“Like I said darling, you’re trouble,” Joel mumbled.

“Like I said, you like it,” you repeated, earning another nudge from him.

Joel didn’t say anything, he just smiled and shook his head at you. Which was good, as you were sure that your poor heart couldn’t have taken any more of his sweet words or lingering glances without having some sort of embarrassing reaction in front of the family members that were filtering out of the house with condiments and salad bowls.

As Ellie and Sarah slipped outside, you stepped away from their dad, trying to keep a reasonable distance in fear of overstepping. However, just as you moved away from him, Joel reclaimed the empty space, wordlessly gluing himself back to your side despite their presence. You looked over at the two girls, both of them busy with preparing the table full of food, before looking back at the man in question with a raised brow.

Joel followed your gaze, his eyes alight as he watched them for a moment before he looked back at you. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, dispelling all of your worries without a single word. He didn’t care. A small smile graced your lips, heat creeping up the side of your neck as you felt him gravitate closer every time one of your movements put space between the two of you again.

Joel really didn’t care how close he was, or that his family and the rest of the party were slowly making their way towards the food tables set up in the backyard. You couldn’t believe it. It was as if he was actually proud of it, silently claiming you in front of every single guest at his party regardless of what any of them thought, and it made you unreasonably excited. You weren’t even that dressed up and likely had sweat trickling down your back from the blazing heat, but Joel stayed in place, hovering at your side like he was meant to be there.

Never once had your ex showing you off at his fundraisers or networking events made you feel how Joel did in that moment. The praise you were accustomed to had always felt cheap, like he was rating you based on how fuckable you looked in front of his fellow PhD pricks. And somehow, regardless of how creepily some of them stared at you in those skin tight cocktail dresses, you never seemed to quite make the cut for him. But Joel Miller marking his territory as he was, proudly staking his claim as he kept his eyes glued to you at all times? It made you feel nearly ten years younger, like you were the wide eyed nineteen year old who screamed into her pillow when she found out that a boy that she liked thought that she was pretty.

So you leaned into it, into Joel’s warmth, allowing the handsome man to stay rooted at your side as everyone gathered around for dinner. He led you over to a chair next to his and you let him, uncaring of the way his arms brushed against yours during the meal, or that he laughed when you missed your mouth because you were too busy trying to sneakily glance over at him. It was hard to be embarrassed anyways when someone as handsome as him was leaning over, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb with a goofy grin glued to his face.

Although you had come across the street sweating and unsure where you stood with him, Joel had made his own intentions loud and clear from the moment you arrived. And despite the fact that just a week ago you had made the decision to steer clear of anything that wasn’t casual, it was becoming harder to remember why you would ever want such a thing. How could you possibly be bothered by something that felt so comfortable, something that eased all of the stress from your mind and made you forget what was waiting for you back at home?

So, you smiled and allowed Joel to lead you towards where the other adults were gathered in the backyard after supper, whispering a small thank you that made him beam when he brought you a new drink without ever being asked. Tommy was leading the group in one of his many stories but neither of you paid him any mind, too busy sneaking glances at each other and fidgeting in lieu of reaching out in the summer heat.

- Joel -

For nearly the entire night Joel had stood watch at your side, sucking up every bit of attention you would grant him as the party raged on into the early evening. Even as his house began to clear out when the families started to pack up their sun-drunk children, and oftentimes their even drunker significant others, he had been able to stay strapped to your hip. But when Tommy, fucking Tommy, had called him inside to find a broom he could use to clean up a broken bottle, Joel had been forced to leave you alone with Maria.

The task itself hadn’t taken long, a little less than five minutes altogether, and yet Joel had come back outside to find you missing. He slipped in and out of the stragglers that were slowly headed towards the exit, praying that he might catch a glimpse of the one person he had thrown the damn event for, but came up entirely empty. A heavy sigh fell from his mouth, something inside of him aching at the realization that you were gone. Your sudden departure stung, his gut roiling as he tried to think of a reason that you would leave without saying goodbye to him, but he couldn’t think of any.

In any other circumstance Joel would have let himself dwell on it a bit longer, perhaps even retreating to the sanctity of his room to wallow in his own sadness for the rest of the night but he couldn’t, not when he had two kids with his last name that were making their way over to him. His love life, as embarrassing and depressing as it was at times, was none of their concern so he shook it off and put on a brave face for them despite the sting of rejection that dulled his smile.

“How was the party? Did she like it? Did you finally ask her out? What are you two going to do for the first date? You’re the one planning it right? Can we help?,” Ellie babbled excitedly, getting an elbow to the ribs from her sister in return.

“Don’t overwhelm him, jeez,” Sarah admonished with an eye roll, before she smiled mischievously and turned back towards him, “But Ellie has a point, did you ask her out?”

Joel shook his head at the both of them, wishing like hell they would drop their incessant quest to hook the two of you up. He wanted to be with you so badly that it hurt, but he was a fully grown man who could get his own dates and the last thing he needed when he finally did take you out was to have to give his daughters credit for the idea. He wanted the date and whatever it entailed to come from him, from his heart like you deserved.

“First of all, the two of you need to stop being so damn nosy. I can handle myself just fine. And secondly, I will ask out whoever I want to, whenever I want to. I don’t need y’all giving me any notes on how to do it for Christ’s sake,” he said, wagging a finger at the both of them.

“I told you that he’s too chickenshit to ask her,” Ellie sighed, as if she had already predicted his inevitable fumble.

“Damn, I guess I owe you and Tommy twenty bucks then. I really thought he’d ask her tonight,” Sarah said, the shock evident in her voice.

“There were bets on it?!,” Joel asked incredulously, “Jesus Christ, we don’t even know each other that well yet. I can’t just go around asking out women without getting to know them first, that ain’t proper.”

“She’s not a stranger Dad, she’s the lady that you run to the door to stare at every time you hear her car come in,” Ellie chuckled.

“Ellie has a point there, and you can’t get mad at us for placing bets on it when it was Uncle Tommy’s idea. We are innocent children, he’s an adult,” Sarah added with a shrug.

As the smoke started practically pouring from Joel’s ears, he watched as both of his kids inched towards the door to the house. Ellie was already about halfway through by the time he had fully soaked it in, while Sarah was a bit slower to react than her sister. Joel wasn’t sure where Tommy was but given all the shit that the asshole had pulled that day, his days were fucking numbered. He was about ready to wring his brother’s neck the next time he came across him, so much so that he barely caught his eldest daughter’s rushed goodbyes.

“Okay well, have fun hunting down Uncle Tommy. We’re going to go to the movies with Riley and Sam. See you later dad, please don’t kill any of our family members while we’re gone,” Sarah shouted as she retreated into the safety of the house.

Utterly defeated by the day, Joel sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t be mad at any of them really, especially when he was such a lost cause these days. There had been attempts to establish a real relationship despite his hectic life, some successful for a time and some not, but none of them ever seemed to work out.

There was Marlene, a woman who he could have seen himself pretending to be happy with if she hadn’t abandoned him and their only child a few weeks after she was born. Then there was Tess, a heart break of major proportions that he desperately tried not to think about if he could help it, but after her the rest seemed to just blur together. His roster was an endless list of first dates and third ones, that inevitably fun first time together followed soon by the hard talk they all eventually gave him when they fell out of lust. It was all so meaningless, so boring that he had put it to rest a few years back but then, you.

What Joel felt for you, it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t sure how yet, or more importantly why, but he knew that you were different from the other women that he had tried to form a relationship with before. Perhaps it was the way your smile broke through all his defenses, shaking the dust off of a part of his heart that had been rotting for years, or perhaps it was just fate. Either way, all of his usual worries about trying again were nowhere to be seen, as if even his hyperactive nervous system understood that you were somehow the exception. And since you were the exception, Joel decided that he didn’t mind that you had left. He would throw one party after the next all summer long, going full on Jay Gatsby and letting the entire state trample through his home if it meant you might show up again someday.

As the last few guests filtered out, including his brother who he made sure to slap upside the head for distracting him, Joel hatched a plan. Since you had clearly left in such a hurry, you likely hadn’t gotten the chance to take home any leftovers. With how much you had “helped” on the grill, it wouldn’t be right for him to hog the remaining feast. If Joel happened to stroll over with a few plates of food in his hands, well that was just being neighborly wasn’t it?

Convincing himself that his ridiculous scheme would work, Joel hurried to the kitchen, his mind racing as he tried to remember what sides and desserts you had liked the most. It was only when he turned the corner, skidding to a full stop at the sound of someone humming along to the crackly radio in his kitchen, that he realized his plan was pointless. There you were, still clad in one the most gorgeous dresses he had seen you in so far, quietly tidying the space as if it were your own.

“Hey,” Joel breathed, in awe of the scene in front of him that seemed too good to be true.

You glanced back at him, “Hey stranger.”

“What are you doing sweetheart?,” he asked, slinking up behind you so he could lean against the other side of the sink.

“Dishes needed to be done and I hate saying goodbye to people as they leave. It’s always so fucking awkward. Irish goodbye is more my style,” you said.

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly, the warmth radiating off of him as he added, “Mine too.”

Smiling in response, you nodded towards the towel hanging off the stove, silently ordering him to work alongside you once more. And who was Joel to say no to a beautiful woman commanding him to help her? He happily bounded over to your side with the towel in hand, grinning ear to ear as the two of you worked in silence.

It was quiet but comfortable, the soft sounds of a Marvin Gaye song that he had long since forgotten the name of and the slight movement of water providing a warmth to the air that only brought the two of you closer. Joel couldn’t stop looking over at you, finding it hard to stay focused each time your eyes met his. He tried to remain calm, to remind himself that you had returned his advances just hours before, but he couldn’t seem to get his words in order. How hard was it to ask someone out? Apparently for Joel, it was nearly impossible.

“I wanted to ask you -” you started, the sound of your soft voice after such a long period of silence nearly causing him to jump out of his own skin.

“You wanted to ask?,” Joel asked once he recovered, hoping like hell that you were thinking the same thing as him.

You looked over at him for a second, the confidence you had faltering when your eyes met his.

“Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

Joel’s entire being drooped towards the floor, the hope he had squashed under your dismissal. Shy was not the word he would use to describe the woman who had flirted with him outside and yet, you seemed more flustered than you had been when he held you in his arms earlier that day. He cocked his head, trying and failing to pinpoint your change of mood.

“M’kay well, if you think of it again I’m all ears,” he joked, getting nothing but a forced smile in response.

Joel bristled, his jaw clenched as you turned and continued to make your way through the dirty dishes. He eyed the remaining pile, suddenly regretting the decision to use red solo cups and paper plates. If he had used his own, he’d be able to keep you trapped a little longer, perhaps even get you to ask him that question you had wanted to ask. But instead, the clock was running out of time so Joel did the only thing he could think of, he filled the space with his own frivolous questions.

“How’s that new house of yours going? Are ya sick of this town yet or what?,” Joel asked lightly, hoping he could break you out of the funk that you had been mysteriously drawn into.

But it didn’t. In fact, the question only made you sigh, shaking your head in defeat before you begrudgingly looked back at him.

“Look, whatever the girls told you, it’s totally fine. I shouldn’t have even said anything, the situation is under control. The repairman said that they would probably be able to get around to it by the end of next week when I called, so it’ll be fixed up in no time,” you said.

“Huh? The girls didn’t tell me shit. They’ve been too busy hanging out with their friends,” Joel said slowly, squaring his shoulder as he added, “But you do know that I own a contracting business right? Whatever it is, I guarantee I can fix it better than any of the other idiots in this goddamn town. Bet I’d be a hell of a lot cheaper too.”

Joel went through a rudimentary list of the potential problems in your home that he had noticed as you took in his words, trying to rank the issues on a scale of need so he could figure it out himself in case you decided not to tell him. The roof would probably need to be reshingled soon, but luckily the fact that you lived in a warmer state meant you probably had another year or so. It could be the faulty wiring in the downstairs kitchen, in which case he prayed that you would let him fix it before you electrocuted yourself trying to make toast. Or perhaps it was the window in your upstairs office, the one that he knew undoubtedly leaked when it rained, but all that would need was a fresh layer of caulk and it would be good to go.

“Oh um, it’s really nothing Joel. Forget I said anything. I wouldn’t want to take advantage,” you rushed out, trying to avoid eye contact as you pulled the plug on the empty sink.

Joel cocked his eyebrow, bringing his wet hands to his hips so that he could get into what his girls had coined numerous times as his signature dad stance. He gave you a challenging look, pulling out the big guns to get you to fess up to whatever fix your tiny home needed.

“Ugh fine, it’s just my stupid fucking AC. It broke last night while I was asleep and I can’t figure out how to fix it without literally shocking myself,” you confessed, rolling your eyes at the way his mouth popped open to form a perfect O.

“Jesus honey, you ain’t working on it while the damn thing is still plugged in are ya?,” he questioned, already knowing the answer based on your face alone.

“Maybe…”

Joel groaned, all of the worst case scenarios running wild through his mind as he thought about you attempting to fix it again by yourself. And the fact that you didn’t call him immediately to begin with? Absolutely unacceptable. What good was having a contractor that worshipped the ground you walked on if you didn’t let him tinker with any of your things? He groaned at his own stupidity, knowing that if he had worked up the courage to talk to you at any point in the last month, you probably wouldn’t have felt the need to call another person to come fix your AC.

“I’ll come by tomorrow. Just please, for my sake darling, don’t be touching it again until I get there alright? You could’ve really hurt yourself doing that,” Joel begged.

“Joel, it’s fine. I really don’t need you t-”

“I ain’t asking for your permission. I’m telling you that I’ll be at your house tomorrow morning to fix that old ass AC of yours and that’s that. And if you don’t answer the door, it’s a Sunday so I’ve got all day sweetheart. I’ll just keep on knocking until you answer it,” he cut in, grinning at the way your pupils dilated in response.

A small noise came from you, followed by a shaky nod that made Joel grin. You were so responsive to him, so easily affected by his words that it made him want to push the boundaries that seemed to only blur more the longer he spent time with you. He wanted to break them all down at once, to pour himself into you until you were fused together as one, but he refrained. To be with you in that way was a privilege, one that he hadn’t earned yet. So until that time, he would remain at your side, allowing his feelings for you to cross into dangerous territory as he learned more about the woman he’d happily get on his knees and grovel for.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out some way to thank you Miller. It seems that every time I get stuck, I’ve got you coming to my rescue,” you joked halfheartedly.

Joel chuckled, pretending to mull it over for a moment. He had an idea of how you could make it up to him but he didn’t want to push, especially with how much time you had already spent with him that day. Nevertheless, he was too greedy to stop himself, already dreading the thought of you walking back across the street.

“How about you stick around a bit longer and have a bowl of ice cream with me? That’d make us square,” Joel proposed, trying to sound as casual as he could.

You grinned, “Not sick of me yet?”

He shook his head and grinned back, “Not yet, no.”

Joel drifted over to the freezer, groaning when he realized that all of his many flavors had been cut in half by his kids’ inherited sweet tooth. All he had left was either chocolate or coffee, two flavors that you excitedly asked him to combine rather than choosing one. He went along with it, piling the bowls high with the impromptu mixture before he led you to the swing in the backyard.

It was a little bit off to the side, in a corner that held a garden and was blocked from the sun by the tree that it sat under, but it was the perfect place to sit at that time of night. With the sun setting on the horizon, turning the water in the pool a shade of pink that reminded Joel of bubblegum, he had to admit that his backyard had never looked better, even with the mess that the party had left behind.

“I know that I’ve probably already told you this today but you have a really nice place Joel. It feels so… -,” you trailed off, looking for the right word to describe it for a second before you suddenly smiled up at him and said, “ - homey. I’ve never felt so comfortable at someone else’s place before.”

Every inch of Joel’s face must have lit up like a Christmas tree at that admission, he could feel it in the way all of the unused muscles around his mouth worked overtime to give you what must have been his millionth smile of the day. You felt at home in his space. That alone made this friendly barbecue better than any first date he had ever had, and he hadn’t even asked you out yet.

“Fuck, that’s a mighty big compliment coming from you sweet girl. Thank ya,” he gushed, trying not to sound like the awestruck idiot he was.

You nodded, taking another bite of your frozen treat as your eyes took in the scenery once more. Joel suddenly wished he had the artistic abilities that his youngest possessed so that he could capture the way you looked in the golden light of the fading day. A picture couldn’t possibly do your beauty any justice, it couldn’t capture how the light danced in your eyes and polished every inch of your skin. Only someone with pure talent would be able to do that. But alas, the best Joel could do when it came to portraits was wonky stick figures, not the beautiful masterpieces you deserved to be depicted as. And he was about to tell you as much, spilling all of his lovestruck secrets as he watched you take another bite of the frozen treat, but then you spoke.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been spending so much time with your daughters. I know it’s a bit weird, but they have insanely good taste in movies, if I do say so myself,” you joked.

“So I’ve heard,” he chuckled.

Your smile faltered and Joel leaned in, trying to ground you without crowding you too much.

“Ellie and Sarah have been very kind to me. I um… I didn’t really have a lot of kind people in my life before coming here,” you sighed.

Joel tried to control his face, a strange mixture of emotions running through him in response to the statement. Pride came first, the dad in him unable to not feel some sort of way upon hearing that his children had been the compassionate people he raised them to be while outside of their father’s watchful eye, but then came grief and above all else, outrage. He wasn’t surprised that you had been around people undeserving of your presence, the constant apologizing and the way you sometimes shrunk in on yourself was enough to tell him that. What he was surprised at was how you still seemed to feel guilty about receiving the kindness of others, as if you didn’t think that you were worthy of it.

“Darling, you can spend time with the girls whenever ya like. They love it over there and I think…,” he sighed and shook his head, “I think it’s good for them to have someone like you around. Lord knows that I ain’t the best listener at times, but you? You’re easy to talk to and you understand them in a way that I can’t. Hell, they’d probably trade me in for you if they could.”

You smiled again and Joel sighed in relief. He liked you better like that, happy and carefree, not weighed down by the past. He longed to ask you about it, to know exactly why someone as amazing as you would fold in on yourself instead of standing tall, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place and given his own closet full of skeletons, he was in no position to push.

“That means a lot Joel,” you sighed once you were done, looking down at your hands before you added, “I just worry that I’m in the way ya know? Sometimes it feels like people are just being nice and inviting me to places because they want to put me on display, or because they feel obligated to, and I just hate it so much.”

“What do ya mean?”

“I don’t know. When I was with my ex, it felt like he was trying to show everyone else up. It was like I was in some sort of beauty contest that I never signed up for. And with my friends, my invite always felt forced or like an afterthought. Either way, nobody ever wanted me to show up somewhere and just be me so now I just can’t fathom why…,” you trailed off.

“I understand,” Joel said quietly.

And he did, truly. Although Joel was the oldest, that didn’t mean he was the most popular Miller brother, or even the smartest. He was quiet, sullen at times, and quick to anger before he had his girls. At most parties, he could be seen with a drink in hand, standing off to the side as he tried to dodge attempts to get him out onto the dance floor. And although Joel didn’t know what it was like to be dragged around like some sort of prize because of his looks, he did know what it was like to feel used. Such had been the case with the last few women he had tried to date, who had all snuck into his sheets and then ran for the hills the moment he brought up meeting his kids.

Then there was the friend comment, which broke Joel’s heart almost more than the admission about your ex. His heart had been broken once by a woman who he thought he would raise his daughter with, Marlene, but he had gotten over that easily as he watched Sarah grow. He didn’t hold any animosity towards the woman anymore, wherever she was. How could he when she had given him one of the greatest gifts? But what he would never get over, what he still could not forgive, was what Tess had done to him. It had been nearly fifteen years and thinking about his best friend’s betrayal still made him feel as he had that day. Having a shitty ex was one thing, but shitty friends? That was a hard pill to swallow.

“Yeah um, your girls told me a bit about you. I hope you don’t m-”

“Of course I don’t mind,” he cut in, stopping the needless apology before it was even fully out, “You can ask them or me anything ya like darling, I want you to know me.”

You blinked, cocking your head at him for a second before you looked away. Deep in thought, your ice cream was all but abandoned, melting in your lap as you stared off into space. Joel sighed and scooched over, getting a bit closer so he could lift the bowl from your lap before it ruined the pretty pink dress you had on. He scooped the bowl up, reaching across you to put it on the small table attached to the side of the swing but when he leaned back, you were looking at him funny, like you either wanted to jump in his lap or attack him violently. Not sure which one it was, he chose the safest option and started to move out of your personal space but once again, your actions shocked him.

Lifting your feet up off the ground, you quickly scooched closer to his side, placing your head directly on his shoulder in a way that made him feel warm all over. Joel paused, unsure what to do with himself for a moment before you let out a small disgruntled noise that kicked him into action. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, allowing your body to relax under the weight of it as he pulled you close. With you glued to his side and the sunset slowly fading into dusk, Joel was astounded by his own luck. He waited for the harsh sting of reality to come but it never did. All he got instead was a sleepy, “This okay? I can move if you want,” from you.

“Don’t you dare sweetheart, you’re perfect right there,” Joel murmured, moving his head so he could press his cheek against the top of your head.

Joel wasn’t sure what you used for shampoo but he needed the brand name ASAP. That and your perfume, or was it a body lotion that made you smell so good? Whatever it was, he was on a mission to find it so he could buy some for himself. He wanted to spray it everywhere, to have your signature scent saturate every surface of his home, his truck, his office, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same. There had to be something about you that made it so delicious, and he knew that he would forever chase that key ingredient in hopes to one day bottle it for himself.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?,” Joel murmured.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had a really good time today and I hope…”

He waited for a moment, giving you a chance to speak up before he asked, “You hope?”

Joel felt you shift beneath his arm and moved his head back, giving you just enough space to look up at him from where you were slumped against his side. Your face was close to his, so close that he could feel your tiny breaths puff out against his lips but he didn’t pay it any mind. It was your eyes that he was looking at, so expressive yet so guarded, a small part of you still holding on to the wall you had built around yourself despite everything.

“Nothing, it’s just…,” you tried, clearly struggling to articulate whatever it was you were feeling, “You’re kind too and I hope… Well, I need to be around kind people right now and I hope that I can see you a bit more if that’s uh - if you’re not too busy with work or family.”

Without even thinking about it, Joel leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead. It wasn’t even remotely sexual, nothing but a trick he had used multiple times to soothe the cuts and bruises of his kids over the years, but it was intimate. Nevertheless, you didn’t seem to care, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips before you snuggled back into his side.

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” Joel whispered, placing his cheek back atop of your head as the two of you watched the last bit of sun dip below the horizon.

“Good.”

-You-

The party had ended around 8pm that night, but you didn’t leave Joel’s house until well past midnight. After the impromptu heart to heart, you had fallen into a dreamless sleep, unknowingly squishing him into the corner of the swing as you napped. You were mortified when he finally woke you up, vehemently apologizing for trapping him in his own backyard as you tried to fix your rumpled dress, but he waved you off.

“Darling, I was fine. If I wanted to get up, I would’ve told ya, but I was comfy like that and you’re cute when you sleep. Hell, I would’ve let ya nap on me forever but I just didn’t want us to get rained on,” Joel had chuckled, gesturing vaguely towards the sky.

Before you could even react to the flattery, Joel had reached out and smoothed some of your hair back in place, pulling the few strands that had fallen from your braid back behind your ear. It made you squirm under his gaze and he held his hand to you as the raindrops began to fall. What started as a drizzle soon turned into an all out downpour and Joel hurried you towards the backdoor, the both of you laughing like kids as the heavens suddenly opened up and drenched the two of you.

“Joel! The bowls!,” you shouted over the sound of water slapping against the pavement around the pool.

“Fuck ‘em, I’ll get them tomorrow” he yelled back, forcing another round of boisterous laughter from the two of you as the rain beat down against your backs.

Joel practically ripped the door open trying to get the two of you back to safety, earning another round of giggles from you as he practically launched you inside with the hold he had on your hand. Stumbling in, you barely managed to catch yourself on the island in his kitchen and wheeled around to face him. He hurried in behind you, cussing as he pulled the sliding door closed.

“Holy fuck, I thought we’d have more time than that,” Joel whistled, watching as lightening struck the tree the two of you had just been lounging under.

“More time? How long did you wait to wake me up?,” you chuckled.

Joel turned to look at you, the sight of how soaked he was reigniting that spark between your legs. The shirt he had on was tight against his chest, showing off the strong physique you already had a feeling he possessed. The thick corded muscles in his arms were glistening, along with the tantalizing spot on his neck where rain water dripped from his curls. And the way he was looking, catching how you squeezed your thighs together at how breathtaking he looked, it told you that he felt the exact same way.

“I uh…,” Joel started, swallowing once before he started again, “I wasn’t ready for ya to leave yet honey. I just really didn’t want today to be over, ya know?”

You gave him a small smile and dipped your chin, suddenly feeling bashful. It didn’t help that your whole body was basically on display, the pink dress glued to every curve, every hip dip, every imperfection as stood in front of him. And yet, when you looked back up, Joel didn’t seem to see the same thing you did. At first, you thought he might be in pain, the heavy crease between his brows making it seem like he was suffering from a migraine of some sort. But as you watched as he raked his eyes up and down your figure, taking in everything, you knew that it was desire for you that had twisted his face like that.

“Jesus, what the fuck happened to you two?”

You gasped, turning towards the teenager that had just strolled into the kitchen. Ellie’s eyes bounced between the two of you, cocking an eyebrow at the obvious tension before she shook her head and headed towards the fridge.

“What the hell are ya doing here? I thought y’all were headed to the movies,” Joel asked, seemingly just as flustered as you were.

“In case you forgot old man, movies are like really long TV shows that you go to see and they are usually about 2 to 3 hours long. We left at seven forty five man,” she sassed as she dug through the freezer and pulled out a tub of cookie dough.

Looking over at the clock, you balked. It was a little bit after a little bit after twelve, well past your usual bedtime as a certified homebody. How long had you been outside for? You didn’t even remember what time it had been when you snuck inside to do the dishes, much less when they had been finished.

“I’m so sorry Joel, I should probably go. I didn’t realize it was that late, you probably want to get to bed soon,” you apologized, trying to pinpoint where your shoes and purse had gone in the hours since you arrived. .

“You think I’m letting ya go out there in this?,” Joel asked incredulously.

The wind howled outside at that moment, as if mother nature herself was trying to highlight his point. Even with how dark it was, you could see the way the trees shuddered, the branches thrashing under the gusts blowing rainwater every which way. But still, the last thing you wanted was to overstay your welcome. Which, given the fact that Joel’s youngest daughter was moseying back upstairs in her pajama pants with a tub of half eaten cookie dough in her hands, you were pretty sure that you already had.

“Joel, I’m not made out of sugar. Plus, I wouldn’t want to put you out seeing as you’ve already been stuck with me all day and I -”

“Enough of that, c’mon sweetheart,” Joel sighed as he held his hand out to you again.

“Wait, what?,” you questioned, pulse quickening as Joel grabbed your hand again.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, dragging you out of the kitchen without another word.

What you expected was for Joel to bring you towards the couch in the living room, perhaps even cover you in one of the many throw blankets that had been left on various surfaces in the room, but instead he led you towards the staircase. You squeaked as he yanked you up the steps and through the hallway, bypassing the room you knew to be Sarah’s and what you guessed was Ellie’s based on the daunting keep out sign that was tacked to the door. It was only after you passed the upstairs bathroom that you realized where he was bringing you.

“You’re taking me to your room?,” you burst out, unable to keep it in.

Joel turned back, a sly grin on his face at the look of your flustered face. He laughed, shaking his head as he stopped at the very last door in the hall.

“Well, it’s where I keep my clothes sweetheart,” he chuckled, turning back to open the door as he added, “Unless of course you want to try squeezing into one of the girl’s clothes. I’m sure they’d be real comfy for ya darling.”

The thought of trying to squeeze your frame into a fourteen year old’s clothes was downright embarrassing. You were a fully grown, thirty year old woman, with all of the curves and extra padding that came with that. And with how skinny the two teenage girls were, you shuddered to think of even attempting such an impossible task.

“Okay fair enough. There’s no way these hips would fit in either of their jeans,” you chuckled, before you stuck a finger in his face,“But no funny business Mr. Miller. This is a clothing swap, nothing more.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Of course honey, wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

With that, Joel left you hovering near his bed, disappearing into the walk in closet to fetch you some decent clothes. Although you longed to sit on the foot of his bed, to feel the creamy texture of what looked to be the softest sheets you had ever seen against your skin, you refrained in fear of getting them soaked. Instead, you floated around, taking in small pieces of the man while he was busy digging through his clothes.

There was a guitar in the corner of the room, along with a record player with a milk crate of records that unsurprisingly held the greatest hits of a few country legends. An ensuite bathroom was attached to his room, where he had left out the tub of hair gel he had used that morning and the cologne you loved so much. A painting of a deer hung above his bed, while a picture of two chunky toddlers that had to be Ellie and Sarah was placed on his nightstand. A TV hung on the opposite end of the wall over his dresser, which of course held more pictures of his girls and even one of him as a kid.

You picked up the old picture, smiling when you recognized the Miller brothers. They were boys whenever it was taken, no more than six and ten, but you could see exactly who was who based on their expressions alone. While Tommy was captured mid-laugh, missing several of his baby teeth as he grinned maniacally at the camera while clutching his mother’s leg, Joel was more reserved. His smile was small, surprisingly awkward even, though you could tell it had been a happy day based on the large fish he held in his hands and the proud looks that both of his parents were giving him. It made you slightly jealous but you pushed the feeling away, reminding yourself that it wasn’t right to long for something so trivial as an adult.

“Whatcha got there?,” Joel piped up from behind you, his deep voice causing you to jump and fumble with the frame.

“Shit, sorry. You scared me,” you laughed nervously, placing the picture down before you shattered it.

He shook his head and stepped forward, placing a set of soft looking clothes on the bed so he could examine your choice.

“Ah, that’s a good one. That was the first fish I ever caught and it was a twenty one pound channel catfish. Pops was so proud that he damn near cried. Tommy was excited too but I don’t think he really understood what was going on, he was only in first grade. He just liked that everyone was cheering,” Joel laughed.

“I don’t know anything about fishing but I’m gonna assume that twenty one pounds is really impressive?,” you tried.

He snorted, “Ah yes, my apologies sweetheart, I forgot you were a city girl. Yeah, it’s a pretty good catch for that kind of catfish. Anything higher than twenty pounds is considered a score.”

“I was only a city girl after high school Joel, I didn’t grow up in Miami,” you sassed, rolling your eyes at him, “For your information, I grew up in a small town before that. Everyone knew each other and had their noses in everyone else’s business, same as here probably.”

“S’that right? Well pardon me darling, I must’ve misjudged ya. Didn’t realize I had a certified backwoods beauty gracing me with her presence,” he joked.

“Yeah well, I haven’t been back there since I left for university so the city has probably rubbed off on me a bit,” you sighed, trying to remember what it felt like to be back in that town.

It had been twelve years since you left home, filled with dreams and ready to leave behind the place that had held you back for far too long. With nothing but twenty bucks to your name and a flashy scholarship with your name on it, you had taken the first bus out of town. You remember that day, when your eighteen year old self had left for the airport practically vibrating with excitement. Nobody had even known you were going and you didn’t care to tell them, knowing even at that age that your big dreams would have been laughed out of the house. You sighed when you thought of that day and all of the aspirations you had once held, knowing that with how your life had turned out after meeting your ex during that first year of university, they would have been right.

“No family then?,” he asked carefully, as if he already knew it was a touchy subject based on the way all of the muscles in your body tensed up.

Schooling your face, you turned to him and said as casually as possible, “Nope, just me.”

It wasn't really a lie, you hadn’t seen any of them in years. No family members had been invited to your graduation, your wedding, or your thesis defense during master’s, despite the fact that they were all probably still alive and well. Your parents were likely still in the same run down town, smoking on the porch as they watched the cars go by and bickered over who had drunk the last can of coke. And the one brother you had was likely either in jail or somewhere commiting the felonies that would inevitably bring him straight back. They had never liked you and the feeling was mutual even as a child, so to call them family would be a great exaggeration. And as far as your former in-laws went, you knew they were likely relieved that you had vanished out of thin air. They were probably thrilled that their precious boy had finally gotten rid of the trailer trash he had chosen, most likely already planning which debutante they wanted him to marry with you out of the way.

“Well,” Joel started as he awkwardly cupped the back of his neck, “I suppose it’s a good thing you chose this place then.”

“Why’s that?,” you questioned as you drifted over to the pile of clothes he had left out.

He shrugged, “I ain’t gonna let ya get lonely over there.”

A small grin spread across your face, growing by the second as you took in the truth of Joel’s promise. Whether you realized it or not at the time, the Millers had been at your side since your very first day in town. It had been mostly the girls of course, one or both of them constantly knocking at your door after they got out of school, but Joel had been there for your two most vulnerable moments. All in all, given the fact that you were now a runaway of two separate towns and families, they were probably the only people you had.

“Thank you Joel,” you said softly.

“Don’t thank me honey, I don’t need it. Just go get dressed before you catch a damn cold,” he grunted, gesturing towards the bathroom so that you could change in privacy.

The clothes that Joel had given you felt just as soft as they looked, although they did sort of swallow you whole once you put them on. The grey sweatpants were so long that you had to fold them at the waist, while the sweater went halfway down your thighs. Joel was just so big and broad, so undeniably beefy that you could barely fill out his loungewear even with your curves providing some extra padding. Not that you minded really, as wearing his clothes allowed his scent to drift into your nostrils each time you moved. After hanging your drenched clothes in the shower, you shook your hair out of the braid Sarah had put in, allowing it to flow freely as you moved back into his room.

Joel was just coming out of the closet when you came back in, a fresh pair of sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt hugging his frame as he swaggered towards you. Given the hefty bulge that he was sporting, you knew that he didn’t have any boxers underneath and you tried hard to ignore it. It was the middle of the night and he was in the sanctity of his own home, he could do whatever the hell he wanted. However, the closer he got, the more obvious the outline of his cock became and you quickly focused all of your attention on making direct eye contact with him instead of staring at the beast that hung from his lower half.

“How do they fit? M’sorry baby, I know that my clothes are a bit big but I couldn’t find anything smaller than that,” Joel apologized.

The word baby bounced around in your mind, hitting all of the pleasure points as you tried to remain calm. Had Joel called you that before? You weren’t sure, but it stuck out compared to the other terms of endearment he had used so far. Sweetheart, honey, darling, those were all terms that you had convinced yourself were just a part of his Southern charm, regardless of the fact that you had never heard him refer to anyone else in that way. But baby? That felt different, almost special, and you wanted more than anything to hear him call you that again.

“Y-Yeah, they fit alright. I’m very cozy,” you said meekly, going weak in the knees from the dazzling smile he sent your way.

“Good now, let’s see if we can scrounge up some leftovers. I don’t know about you but I’m fucking starving,” he said.

Again, Joel didn’t ask for your hand as he had before, he just took it and dragged you down the hallway behind him. He brought you to the living room first, gesturing for you to sit down on the couch before he threw a thick blanket and the remote control at you with the command to put something interesting on.

“I can help you in there though!,” you protested as you tried to get up and follow him, not wanting to leave him with all of the work as you lazed about on his couch.

“You are helping me, now pick something for us to watch while I go get us a snack,” Joel called over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

The rest of the night followed a similar trajectory. Joel came back with plates filled with way too much food and sat at your side, uncaring that you had decided on a trashy reality TV show that you secretly loved. He even asked a few questions about one of the love triangles, laughing along as the contestants started screaming at each other over god knows what during one of the reunion episodes. Sitting on Joel’s couch, stuffing your face as you indulged in one of your guilty pleasure shows felt good, natural even. However, after you had passed off the rest of your meal for him to devour, you made the mistake of looking over to the clock and realized that it was way past time that you said your goodbyes. It was one thirty in the morning and with no more rain falling outside, along with the sleepy yawn that Joel gave once he was finished eating, you knew that it was time to leave.

Ever the gentleman, Joel demanded that he walk you home, ignoring your assurances that you would be fine. He had even offered his own bed first, claiming that he would sleep better on the couch anyways if he knew that you wouldn’t slip on the slick pavement outside, but you shut his ridiculous worries down. At an impasse, the two of you had agreed that you would not stay the night but that he would walk you home, even if it was slightly ridiculous to think that you would run into danger in the thirty seconds it took for you to get to your front porch. It had been a quiet walk, one where neither of you said anything, almost as if you were both too scared to ruin it.

“Are you sure that you’re alright over here honey? It’s gonna be mighty hot tomorrow morning with that AC of your broken and like I said, I really don’t mind sleeping on the couch tonight if it means you’ll get a good sleep. It’d make me feel a whole lot better,” Joel tried one more time as he stood with you on the porch.

“I’ll be fine Joel, it’s just one night and plus,” you added, a bit of mischief in your eye as you reached up and fixed his collar, “I’ve actually got a handsome handyman coming by tomorrow, so it should be fixed in no time.”

A deep crimson crept up the side of his neck, flooding his face with colour as he tried hard not to let your words affect him too much.

“Sounds like a lucky guy,” he murmured, his breath hitching as you took a bold step into his space.

“Hm, we’ll see,” you teased.

Leaning forward, you placed a tiny peck on his cheek, lingering there for a moment to take in a heavy whiff of his scent. The kiss was light, barely a brush of the lips against his scratchy beard, but it seemed to hit him just as hard as any passionate makeout session would.

“Night Joel,” you whispered, giving him a small smile as you slowly moved away.

“Night sweetheart, I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he breathed, hands bunched up at his sides like he wanted to reach out but knew that he shouldn’t.

You smiled, “Hope so, handsome.”

With that, you left Joel on the porch, his cheeks still flushed as you pulled the door closed. Pressing your back against the wood, you couldn’t help the girlish squeal you let out as the day flashed before your eyes. Had all of that really just happened?

Joel Miller was good, so good that you couldn’t believe the day that you had just had. He had thrown a party for you, nobody had ever done that, and he had spent nearly the entire day at your side simply because he wanted to. And afterwards, he had cuddled with you on the swing, letting you rest against him until the rain dragged you both back inside. Not to mention the fact that he had clothed and fed you, unwilling to let you walk back home in a storm despite your vehement reassurances that you were fine. It was as if someone had made the perfect man in a lab for you and you suddenly couldn’t remember why you had ever wanted to keep him at a distance in the first place.

That is, until your phone started to ring. You drifted over to the kitchen, still running on a high as you unplugged your phone and accepted the blocked number. Although it was strange to get any calls in the middle of the night, as you were usually asleep well before midnight, you figured it would be best to answer. Afterall, maybe it was work. With how much it had rained that night, you couldn’t help but worry that the one hundred year old basement of the library had finally flooded, meaning that you would have to go deal with it before the water destroyed the precious microfilms down there.

“Hello?,” you answered, still chipper as ever despite the late hour.

“Oh, so no answer during the day but you fucking pick up in the middle of the night? I’ve been calling you since three o’clock this afternoon, where the hell have you been? Were you out with someone else? Better fucking not have been, you’re still my goddamn wife.”

Fear, pure unadulterated fear rushed through you and turned the blood in your veins into ice. It was him. After more than a month of radio silence, a silence so potent that you had assumed that he had finally let you go, there he was, spitting venom through the phone.

“H-How um - how did you get this number?”

A snort came from the other line, followed by what sounded to be a heavy glass being slammed down on what had to be his mahogany desk. You had heard that sound too many times to not recognize it, even miles and miles away. Each time he had brought you into that dreaded room, the same one you had once been impressed by as a doe eyed nineteen year old that saw it for the first time as his research assistant, it was always to give you some sort of talking to. The talks were always about your behaviour, your outfit, or something stupid you had said. An invite to that room always came with a reprimand from him, drinking vodka on the rocks as he critiqued every inch of your being, before he inevitably expected you to spread your legs for him whenever he felt like it. It made you nauseous to think about it now, about how cruel you had let him be, stupidly believing that even when he toyed with your mind that it was out of love, but that was then.

The nineteen year old he had hired, the same one that he had shaped into his perfect girlfriend at twenty, then his perfect little wife by twenty two, then his trophy piece for events after he got tired of pretending to care, all still lived inside of you. Real life isn’t like the movies, where the woman leaves her ex and suddenly becomes a different person altogether. That girl who just wanted someone to pay attention to her, who desperately needed love, was still there, along with the wife who had held onto something gnarled and twisted in hopes that it would one day make sense again. However, none of those women were under his spell anymore, his ongoing affair had made sure of that. And as broken as every single version of you still was, they were equally just as pissed off.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound more confident as you asked, “Why did you call me?”

“That’s all you have to say to me right now? After weeks of me trying to track your ass down? I am your husband you stupid bitch, watch how you fucking talk to me,” he spat.

You straightened up, rage coiling in your gut and tensing all of the muscles in your back like you were readying for an attack. Husband? He thought that he was still your husband? After all that he had done? You tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

The memory of his face when you caught him with that poor young woman flashed through your mind. He hadn’t looked guilty that he was caught, just disappointed that his little game had ended before he had the chance to truly sink his talons into his next victim, which soon morphed into disgust when you had the audacity to cry in front of him over his betrayal. And later, when you had asked him outright for a divorce? He had been smug, reminding you that you’d never find another man like him, that you were nothing without him, that it was childish to ruin an eight year marriage over something that every husband did from time to time. It was enough to make you want to reach through the phone and strangle him.

“You stopped being my husband the second you started fucking your research assistants behind my back Peter, now what the hell do you want from me?,” you hissed, feeling as though you could breathe fire as you spoke his name aloud for the first time in over a month.

“Oh really? Well, we will fucking see about that you goddamn whore. I bet I wasn’t the only one who stepped out, you just like holding shit over my head,” Peter shot back, but you were too angry to let his insults or ridiculous accusations phase you.

“Listen to me you asshole,” you started, ten years worth of rage seeping into your tone as you spoke through gritted teeth, “You are nothing to me anymore, do you hear me? Nothing.”

“Don’t be a fucking dramatic,” he sighed, almost sounding bored.

“No, you don’t get to say shit like that to me anymore,” you seethed, letting all of the resentment peek out for the first time in ten years, “I don’t give a shit what you have to say, or what your friends think, or especially what your stupid parents want, I am fucking DONE!”

“But -”

“Sign the divorce papers Peter. Or don’t, I really don’t give a fuck anymore. Just know, I’ll be filing for a petition to divorce your ass next week if I don’t get them in my mailbox by Wednesday. You can take the apartment, the money, the cars, everything, I’m out.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Try me bitch,” you snapped, ending the call before he had the chance to respond.

You whipped the cell phone across the room, too angry to care if it broke as you watched it bounce against the back of the couch and hit the hardwood.

“Asshole,” you hissed to no one in particular, the sound of your voice echoing off of the empty walls.

Peter had taken everything from you, everything. He had taken your twenties, draining you of life, of who you were as a person, before forcing you into being the woman he wanted. And you, so desperate to have someone love you, had let him. You had grit your teeth through the entirety of the marriage, hoping that one day the two of you might return to how it had been during those early days. But being a thirty year old woman with a lifetime of experience gave you some perspective on the matter. Those early days, with all of the gifts and the compliments, had been an elaborate ruse. He had drowned you in affection, knowing that if he got you to love him, you would be easier to bend.

Peter had taken pieces of you, slowly and carefully, so that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was a political science professor, so you couldn’t major in that, it had to be literature and history. He wanted to stay in Miami so that he could get tenure, meaning that moving out of state after undergraduate for a masters in New York like you had hoped was out of the question. He didn’t like short hair, so yours had to be long. Heels soon replaced all of your more comfortable shoes, as he thought you looked frumpy in flat ones. At formal events, you had to always wear a dress, which meant that every pair of dress pants you owned had to be thrown away. He didn’t want you to be smarter than him so a PhD degree became a pipedream, even though a seat at Notre Dame had once been offered to you. Pieces upon pieces were taken, until you had no idea who you were anymore without him.

As you marched up the stairs in your home, reeling from the call as you walked into the bathroom and started quietly taking your makeup off, you couldn’t stop looking at the person who stared back at you in the mirror. She had more lines on her face since the last time you had seen her, as well as a bit more junk in the trunk, but she was there. For the first time in years, the girl who had her own wants, her own dreams, her own fucking life, was there. She looked exhausted, albeit a bit rough around the edges from her time locked away, but her re-emergence was something remarkable.

Peter had cheated on you. Hell, he had probably been doing it for years, but you didn’t care anymore. That had been the least of the injustices he had perpetrated against you anyways. It was the manipulation that had been the worst thing, the tactics he had used to force you into a life that was meant to nurture only him being so devious that you had happily skipped towards your cell and helped him throw away the key. But his last offense had shown you the light. It had ended up being the exact thing you needed to tear you from your prison cell and shove you back into the real world again, a world that didn’t revolve around him. It didn’t matter if Peter didn’t sign the divorce papers, or if he took every single thing you owned in court, you would be fine because at the very least it would mean that you would never have to see him again.

So, as you finished up your nightly routine, letting all thoughts of your previous life go down the drain with your face wash and toothpaste, you put Peter to rest. There would be a time to think about him, perhaps even dissect the damage he had done to you in greater detail when you met with the attorney, but it was not the time for such thoughts. Absolutely drained from the day, you crawled into bed, pulling the hem of Joel’s sweater up to your nose so that you could take a hit of his delicious scent. Your ex, wherever he was and whoever he was with, could go fuck himself. You had a home, a job you loved, and a handsome man that had a crush on you, a man that you knew would never say any of the shit that your ex had to you even if he was upset. Peter didn’t own you anymore and he never really had, you were free.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfic #angst #comfort #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x female reader #Soft!Joel #soft!joel miller #joel miller fluff

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numberonetacostan · 2 days ago

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I've become so obsessed with toitacopad PLEASE I need breadcrumbs 🙏🙏

Hello and welcome!!!^^ Thank you for coming to me, I see that you are starving and urgently need some toicopad to keep you alive!!!!!!!! I've got you!!!!!

Okay, this one is more related to toicopad than about toicopad, but!! Silver Spoon would take note of the fact that the other two British cast members are Mepad's partners, and avoid him like the plague. Clearly Mepad has a type, and Silver Spoon simply can't handle yet another adoring fan pleading for his attention. (He yearns for Candle and does not want to risk getting involved with Mepad as he's busy pining for her).

Between Taco having trouble sleeping after years of homelessness, and Toilet being a silly little fella, I think it would be sweet if Mepad read bedtime stories for the two of them. His voice would of course be soothing to Taco, with him making her feel safe in general, and Toilet would get very invested in whatever story he was reading to them. As a mepad, I'm sure he has plenty of fairytales and other public domain stories to read to them, yeah?

Toilet and Mepad would be so good for Taco's self-image. Being loved by both of them, of course, would do wonder for her, but they would be some incredible personal cheerleaders, yeah? Mepad is gentle and soft about it, while Toilet is excited and loud about it!! Regardless they are both very proud of her progress, and always let her know it.

Mepad is always helping everyone!!! He's always assisting!!! Toilet and Taco would frequently kidnap him to make him take a break. Maybe get his screen polished, clear out any clutter in his storage, fully shut off as he charges for a bit, etc.!!! Mepad will be engaging in self-care and having some me-time, and that's that!!!

Toilet would be a great help in Taco and Mepad finding hobbies outside of the show as well. Their entire lives had revolved around it, so they don't particularly have well-explored interests separated from Inanimate Insanity. But that's not the case for Toilet!! He's had a life and experiences outside the show, he likes to draw, he likes to eat spaghetti!!! And I'm sure he'd have plenty of ideas for Taco and Mepad to try, as well as be down for trying plenty of new things with them!!!

Taco is the only one of the polycule to have arms, and thus is responsible for the hugs!!! She wouldn't be very open with physical affection at first, especially not in front of other people, but I think she'd come to really enjoy hugs eventually. Getting to hold the people she loves close to her would be rather soothing, especially with her history of losing those she cares about, yeah?

I think the polycule would start off with Mepad dating both Taco and Toilet, but the latter two not dating. Taco probably wouldn't like Toilet much at first, with him being so loud and likely even reminding her of her season 1 persona and all of the grief associated with it. But between Mepad's love for him and all the time they spend together sharing Mepad, I think she'd eventually come to enjoy his presence. She'd be very reluctant to admit it for quite some time, but his silly energy and mindless fun charm her. On Toilet's end? Mepad has a pretty and fancy girlfriend and he has a little puppy crush on her!!! <3

#inanimate insanity #ii taco #taco ii #loomy's answers #ii mepad #mepad ii #toilet ii #ii toilet #toipad #toico #tacopad #sourscreen #toicopad #silver spoon ii #ii silver spoon

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cinderflower · 6 months ago

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Originally this started as an attempt to organize my notes that got way out of hand so I might as well post it here to also be easier for me to reference. So let's get into my rebirth theory and the direction I originally thought Elden Ring was going with Miquella and Malenia's characters and the Age of Abundance.

So here it is, my Miquella & Ancestral Followers lore theory as well as my broader Haligtree theory. This is what I thought the base game was leading up to with Miquella's character, not... what we got.

I've done frankly too much lore digging since beginning writing Field of Reeds in earnest and in trying to have a solid enough lore foundation to make sure how I write the fic is grounded in the base game lore. There's a lot I plan to cover in that fic that I won't be covering here so for those interested, you can check it out here.

So with that said, my main theory for base-game Miquella (not including how he's presented in the DLC since this theory was based almost entirely on the base-game info) has always been that his goal was to break the cycle of Erdtree-controlled rebirth in the Lands Between that's currently controlled by the Erdtree.

To read the pre-theory lore & item crawl setup, scroll down to "ADDITIONAL INFO" in big, bold, blue letters. As I said before, this was mostly to get my own notes in order, so I'm going to try my best to make this make sense in how I present it.

Let's actually start with starlight shards for both and the ties between the stars and fate. We know which are collected in various astrolabes and a great many can be found in Manus Celes, but there's quite a lot to starlight as a concept in Elden Ring and these overall themes.

Starlight Shards - An ephemeral sliver that gives off a pale blue glow. What remains of a passing flash of starlight. A prized item that was once used in the Eternal City as an ingredient in intoxicating draughts.

Celestial Dew - A hidden Tear found in the Eternal City. Also known as a Night Tear. Once upon a time, the stars of the night sky guided fate, and this is a recollection of those times.

Seluvis's Potion - Used to turn someone into a puppet, created from starlight shards - Small flask received from Preceptor Seluvis containing a cloudy tonic of bluish black.

Amber Starlight - An ephemeral sliver that gives off a pale amber glow. What remains of a passing flash of starlight. If the stars command our fates, then amber-hued stars must command the fates of the god. Such is the belief that inspired the use of these shards to prepare a most special draught.

Notably, the amber starlight is found at a statue of Miquella and Malenia, the same found in the Haligtree. This implies that the starlight shard is one of their fates - or perhaps Godwyn's. But it more likely points to Miquella's given his preparation to shed himself of his body and all things golden.

We also see the influence of starlight elsewhere in some ingredients, namely the boluses created with dew-kissed herba. Most boluses use only normal herba, but it is the deadly afflictions of madness, rot, and death-blight (Outer God/Death based) that require specifically dew-kissed herba.

Dew-kissed Herba - A herb that grows in the false night in and around the Eternal City. Soaked in arcane dew, it gives off the faint glow of starlight.

Clarifying Boluses - Dew-kissed Herba | Crystal Cave Moss | Eye of Yelough - Alleviates madness buildup.

Rejuvinating Boluses - Dew-kissed Herba | Crystal Cave Moss | Golden Centipede - Alleviates death blight buildup.

Preserving Boluses - Dew-kissed Herba | Crystal Cave Moss | Sacramental Bud - Alleviates scarlet rot buildup and cures rot aliment.

Now hold on a minute, let's look at that last one that specifically helps scarlet rot. It uses sacramental blood to alleviate rot which is all but confirmed to be Miquella's blood (or a derivative of it at least) as it is also used in the bewitching branch.

Sacramental Bud - An immature bud containing fresh blood. Believed to originate long ago from a strain of buds cultivated with youthful, sacramental blood.

So if, somehow, Miquella found out that this combination worked together with his blood, then that would be something which could at least provide some relief to Malenia, though it wouldn't be able to cure her entirely since her rot is at the influence of the rot god directly.

This of course is just the tip of the iceberg of Miquella's blood but we know first and foremost that Miquella used his blood to try and water the Haligtree and grow it into a full-fledged Erdtree, an effort which was unsuccessful.

Haligtree Knight Armor - Though watered with Miquella's own blood since it was a sapling, the Haligtree ultimately failed to grow into an Erdtree.

We know in addition to his blood, Miquella also has his unalloyed gold lilies.

Miquella's lily - A delicate water lily of unalloyed gold that has started to fade and wilt. A flower signifying faith in the Haligtree. Thought to be beloved by the Empyrean Miquella in his youth.*

*I theorize that the lilies were grown by Miquella's blood because how could he love them in his youth if he was the one to create unalloyed gold???? It also lends some tie between the sacramental bud and unalloyed gold for why it is able to treat scarlet rot.

Unalloyed gold is important with regards to Malenia's rot through the needle we learn helps her curb the rot and also in use of her prosthetics to similarly prevent the rot from taking over.

Malenia's Gauntlet - Gauntlet made of unalloyed gold.

Hand of Malenia - Blade built into Malenia's prosthetic arm. Through consecration it is resistant to rot.

Radagon's Rings of Light - And yet, the young Miquella abandoned fundamentalism, for it could do nothing to treat Malenia's accursed rot. This was the beginning of unalloyed gold.

There's multiple forms of the Unalloyed Gold Needle as well which I want to cover the differences of:

Snapped Needle - An intricately crafted needle of unalloyed gold, snapped in half. A ritual implement crafted to ward away the meddling of outer gods, it is thought capable of forestalling the incurable rotting sickness. Sage Gowry has designs for this needle.

Repaired Needle - An intricately crafted needle of unalloyed gold. Once snapped in half, it has been repaired by Sage Gowry.

Curious here, we can see what looks to be blood used to repair the needle - though who's blood is unknown. I suspect Miquella's using the sacramental buds we have no definitive answer.

Restored Needle - An intricately crafted needle of unalloyed gold. Removed by Millicent from her flesh. Bears no trace of befouled blood, but is faintly moist with dew.

More dew references, which we can see even on the needle itself. This truly begs the question: what is dew? Dew is used to reference the starlight dew on dew-kissed herba, but it's also used in the blessed dew talisman description:

Blessed Dew Talisman - Talisman depicting a drop of the Erdtree's sap, a blessed boon. It was once thought that the blessed sap of the Erdtree would drip from its boughs forever-but that age of plenty swiftly came to a close, and with time, the Erdtree became more an object of faith.

So presumable dew/sap/amber are all interchangeable for life. This would also make sense with the amber egg containing the Rune of the Unborn that Rennala has in her possession. I have a previous post where I go into the concept of dew theory specifically in more detail here.

So after Millicent uses the needle, it's covered in dew, not blood. This would potentially put Millicent in the bloodless category above if she doesn't truly bleed and is considered an artificial life like albinaurics or the oracle envoys. Before we get into that, back to the needle.

Miquella's Needle - One of the unalloyed gold needles that Miquella crafted to ward away the meddling of outer gods. Capable of subduing the flame of frenzy if inherited, allowing one to cheat fate and avoid becoming Lord of Frenzied Flame. However, the needle is as yet unfinished and can only be used in the heart of the storm beyond time said to be found in Farum Azula.

This version of the needle is only possible after defeating Malenia and interacting with the scarlet aeonia she leaves behind. This finalized version of the needle is intricately detailed and the shape more closely resembles the Haligtree seal used during incantations. It also includes small braids and either dew similar to Millicents or strands of hair, but also small little sprouts.

We know Malenia doesn't have her needle through Millicent's quest dialogue, meaning this is once again the evolution of the needle. So why does the joining of the unalloyed gold needle, Millicent's dew, and Malenia's scarlet aeonia fully form this incomplete needle? My speculation is that its from the symbiotic relationship between Miquella and Malenia's conditions, combined with the concept of "dew" aka life. The harmony of life and death, the original abundance and decay the game was setting up.

Here's where we actually start to get into my Haligtree theory: I purport that Miquella's goal was to create a new Erdtree to replace the existing Erdtree, one which created a new cycle of rebirth completely detached from the necessity for grace. I haven't fully settled on the exact details of what this cycle looks like in it's entirety, but I believe it likely went through a few iterations.

The first iteration was likely the pursuit to grow the Erdtree not only because he could, but also because it would be an Erdtree of unalloyed gold. It's why it has to be watered with his own blood. It's why we don't find any other bodies being fed into it in the same way we do the Erdtree above - but I theorize that was the eventual intent of it.

Circling back to the seal symbols, let's also look at two others, the Erdtree seal and the Crucible seal:

Comparing with the Haligtree seal above, there's a lot more similarities with the Crucible seal than with the Haligtree seal. Dipping my toe briefly into the DLC lore, we know Enir-Ilim powered the Gate of Divinity with the power of the Crucible, meaning Marika essentially harnessed and reshaped the power of the Crucible to form her age of the Erdtree and subsequent Golden Order which is why the Erdtree symbol looks like a more minimalist version of the Crucible seal with a focus on the Elden Ring in the center. The Golden Order Fundamentalism seal takes it a step further entirely by removing all iconography of the tree and focuses entirely on the Elden Ring. The Haligtree symbol does the opposite, it removes the inclusion of the Elden Ring and shifts the iconography back to that of the tree itself.

With this in mind, it becomes a lot easier to imagine that Miquella is looking to recreate the heart of what the Crucible was capable of but without the Elden Ring. The problem with that however is the fact that the influence of the Erdtree is quite literally everywhere in the Land's Between because that was the whole point of the Land's Between's creation - only those with the Erdtree's grace are permitted, the rest are either outcast, persecuted, tortured, and/or killed.

So, Miquella has to turn to the very small subpopulation that don't have grace in order to begin the new cycle of rebirth. Or - potentially - to begin the new cycle of rebirth specifically under his unalloyed golden grace. In theory since the unalloyed gold is able to ward off the meddling of Outer Gods, why should that same concept not also apply to the Greater Will? Or to Marika? And if his blood is what can create unalloyed gold, then feeding his blood to the Haligtree should inherently be the same as graceless blood.

I think we can even still see the remnants of the unalloyed gold of the tree he was able to achieve still at the roots of the Haligtree where he embedded his cocoon:

The rest of the tree is a husk, covered in rot, but in this one part where Malenia rests and the cocoon once was we see the gold still persists.

Compare this noticeable shade of gold in the roots now to the color of the Erdtree beneath the false-luminescence - notice how it's actually closer to the false gold in color than the actual Erdtree is?

Let's look at a couple other interesting images from the Haligtree:

More tree iconography, flanked by griffons and what I think is the lily shape.

This one has always especially intrigues me due to the humanoid figures connecting the tree together. Seems familiar doesn't it?

But there's also the bulbs that are attached to it, by their shape they could be some sort of fruit - but I doubt that given everything else - or perhaps cocoons, like the ones we see the albinaurics encapsulated in.

Or, my theory, which is they're the same as the aeonia blooms we can see in Caelid:

If that is the case, this then shows the desire for a symbiosis to be formed.

Regardless of if those are intended to be aeonia blooms, it does bring up the concept of symbiosis between the Haligtree and the scarlet rot fungi. There is some real-world basis for this if we look towards some botanical concepts. I specifically want to look at the botanical concept of Mycorrhizae which are fungi that have a symbiotic relationship with the root system of plants - namely trees. With mycorrhizae, a plant has a more robust root system which helps not hinders the plant and assists in getting water and nutrients into the plant's system.

If we consider this, it becomes more interesting for Malenia to be in the root system of the Haligtree of all places to rest. If they'd been concerned about her infecting the Haligtree after all, surely they would have put her elsewhere even if she wished to be by Miquella's side. It's also curious that the rest of the Haligtree is being consumed by rot and at alarming rate, but not in the root system, not in the heart of it. In fact, we see more non-fungal flora closer to the root system than elsewhere even while we also see the mini-lake of rot right above it as well.

The other thought to consider here is if the Haligtree was meant to replace the Erdtree, if it was intended to create a new cycle of rebirth, then both Miquella and Malenia's placement in the root system would make sense if they both intended to be reborn through the Haligtree and be cured of their various afflictions through this rebirth. That's why Malenia had to be carried back to the Haligtree no matter what is my theory, so if she did succumb to the rot, she could potentially be absorbed into the Haligtree roots and given a chance to be reborn through unalloyed gold and be reborn free of the Outer God influence.

One other point for this is actually in Miquella's cocoon itself. Miquella is very much moth-coded in the game rather than butterfly-coded and as such his cocoon reflects this.

Chrysalises are usually found hanging from a structure, while cocoons are typically buried in the ground or in leaf litter or attached to the side of a structure. [x]

One other interesting parallelism I found in the Haligtree was outside the building leading to the Haligtree roots, in the graveyard (curious in and of itself).

On one side of the building we have Miquella's lilies and various soliders.

On the other we have ghost (not grave) glovewort and Kindred of Rot.

So we have the concept of symbiosis being achieved between Miquella's abundance and Malenia's decay - how do the Ancestral Followers tie in?

Remember the Crucible vs Haligtree seal discussion? Well, if Miquella is looking to imitate the ability to cultivate primordial life like the Crucible (while not actually being the crucible, but an even further cleaned version), there's a group that exist that already follow in the footsteps of the Crucible in terms of worship - specifically the Ancestral Followers.

We can see some similarities with the Crucible in their items, but also stark differences. For example, they wear crowns of horns which but into new life, very derivative of the Crucible while also being surprisingly detached from it. Where the Crucible horns are almost always horns like what Omen have, the horns that the Ancestral Followers wear are more akin to elk, moose, etc. We see this very well on the actual Regal Ancestor body itself:

We can also see here that it's "buds" aren't more horns but seemingly plant-like buds, like leaves.

Curiously we see something similar in a sense on the Cleanrot Knights which seem to be sprouting plants.

BUT we also see the same on the Malenia and Miquella statues in the Haligtree with sprouts carved into their very likeness:

You know where else we've seen plants/roots growing out of a person too? In the statues found all over the ancient Uhl and Uld palace ruins. In fact, it's one of the very statues Mohg's followers are gathered before.

I couldn't help but draw similarities between these statues and the ones we also see in the Haligtree - though in two very different contexts.

This second version surrounded by corpses is only seen in the section of the Haligtree where the scarlet rot is. Draw what conclusions you will, but I think the difference and the different locations where it appears speaks for itself.

We also know that the concept of death in the Lands Between gets completely upturned overnight after the Night of the Black Knives, after which Miquella desperately seeks to return Godwyn's soul to his body in order for him to die a "true death".

This is actually a concept we see in one other place where the game shows other wandering corpses that aren't considered undead but haven't truly died.

Putrid Corpse - True death does not come easily for them. Despite their appearances, are not undead and are not weak to holy. Most are vulnerable to bleed and fire damage.

True death seems to imply the death of the body and the death of the spirit - which is how Ranni was able to kill her flesh and Godwyn's soul in the same moment to circumvent true death for both of them. And, in the era of Destined Death being sealed, true death can only be granted by returning to the Erdtree or by being slain with holy incantations.

With the reintroduction of death though and the assumption that Miquella is attempting to start a new cycle of rebirth, the Ancestral Spirit philosophy would undoubtedly be appealing:

Ancestral spirits exist as a phenomenon beyond the purview of the Erdtree. Life sprouts from death, as it does from birth. Such is the way of the living.

Seemingly, these Ancestral spirits have found a way to already exist outside the bounds of the Erdtree's cycle of rebirth.

We also find these Ancestral Followers in a few odd locations outside of their usual Nokron/Nokstella locations related to Malenia and Miquella. Two in particular of note:

Lake of Rot

Consecrated Snowfields

Coincidence? Maybe, but there's very little in the Consecrated Snowfields not related to Miquella/Malenia or the Haligtree. The main exception is the pocket of madness tainted worshipers.

They also have connections to higher resistance stats through their gear and the fact that they guard the various horn talismans that raise these stats. But also, noticably, is the fact that nascent butterflies are also only used to created Dappled Cured Meat and Dappled Cured White Meat - both of which are only used to greatly raise resistances.

If we take this all a few small steps further into a leap of logic for the sake of theorizing, there's a few more parallels we could make.

Torrent - assuming Miquella was Torrent's former owner and is a "spectral steed" the baby buds on his head lend some credence to the theory that he is a juvenile ancestor spirit, another connection with Miquella

Spirit Calling Bell - again, assuming the above is true, that would mean Miquella gave this bell to Ranni and further ties him to spirits as well

I also suspect that the primeval current and primordial life of the crucible are two halves of the same whole - something somewhat backed up by concepts like Yggdrasil which isn't just the concept of life and death but is a tree which also spans into the cosmos and has the influence of the cosmos. We kind of see this in a few item descriptions as well:

Dweller Arrow - Arrow in which the spirits of small animals are thought to dwell. (Deals magic damage.)

Sellen's Primal Glintstone - Glintstone from within the sorceress Sellen's body. Seemingly half-alive, blood vessels are visible within. In essence, a primal glintstone is a sorcerer's soul. If transplanted into a compatible new body after their original body dies, the sorcerer will rise again.

This also seems to tie in well with the Ancestral Spirits and some of the sorceries we see used in the Haligtree and by the Albinaurics all only being these glintstone sorceries, never anything like meteors or gravity, etc.

Back to the Ranni bit, it's still incredibly unclear what Miquella and Ranni's relationship was and how it developed, because there's several things that I have no clear cut explanation for at the end of the day.

Black Knife Assassins in Ordina - Seems to be protecting the Haligtree entrance given the fact that they're in the goal along with the albinaurics, but why?

Black Knife Assassins in Sage Cave - A handful of ties in this cave to Miquella but another assassin here, why?

Crystilians in the Haligtree - They do fall into the graceless category but why are they in the Haligtree? Primal glintstone?

Haima Conspectus (adjudicator) Sorcerers in the Haligtree - ???

A few other interesting things of note:

The cocooned albinaurics resemble in some ways the rooms of ant eggs & we do see ants on the Haligtree (also in the deeproot depths and outside the lake of rot).

The lake of rot is a much brighter hue and tone than the one we find in the Haligtree and Caelid and there's less plant variety (I hit the image limit but trust me).

ADDITIONAL INFO (misc)

To close this all out, here's some additional supporting/supplemental information.

To get a lore of base lore notes out of the way regarding basic concepts and item info, let's start with gold, silver, and grace.

Gold = Light = Life = Red/Gold hues

Silver = Shadow = Death = Blue/Black/Silver hues

Grace = Vestiges of gold granted by Marika/Erdtree to those in the Lands Between; takes shape in the eyes

The Crucible is one of the most notable examples of a red hue representing life; specifically primordial life. There's another primordial that the game references as well: the Primordial current. We'll circle back to that when talking about the Carians.

Sap/Dew/Amber are also concepts which represent life, but seemingly in a more abstract way at times and range between gold/red hues to silver/blue hues depending on if they're contextually in the overworld of the Lands Between or the underworld. More on this later.

Spirits are essentially exclusively blue hues though there are variations of spirits we need to consider:

Spirit Ashes - the actual ashen remains that can be utilized by the spirit-summoning bell to briefly bring forth their spirit

Puppet - it's unclear exactly what puppet summons are because we have the physical puppets we can see in Seluvis's quest, but the actual summons both the player uses and the puppets we see in the Caria Manor are all blue hued like spirits

Ancestral Spirits - These seem to be the spirits of animals most often but also the Ancestral Followers, all taking on a brighter almost greener blue tone

Roaming Spirits - Blue spirits roaming the Lands Between in graveyards most often (jellyfish in shape)

One interesting thing to note about spirit ashes is they all cost FP with a few very curious exceptions which cost HP instead:

Mimic Tear

Land Squirts

Miranda Sprout

Soldjars

Bloodfiend (DLC only)

We know the Mimic Tear is a silver tear and thus born outside of the Erdtree's circle of life (see below), thus it makes sense to have to sacrifice life for life, but what about the others? Curiously enough, these are all bloodless creatures, and we find not just these but many more bloodless creatures in close proximity to the Haligtree as well as inside of it (Miranda Sprouts).

We also have a LOT of death associated blues by way of the Ghostflame wielded by the Death Rite Birds which used to be used to "burn away death" which is a practice no longer used with the introduction of the Golden Order upon the removal of Destined Death and all life begins to get cycled through the Erdtree's roots. We can see this in all the catacombs across the Lands Between with the bodies being taken back through the roots.

In the same catacombs, we also find both Grave Glovewort and Ghost Glovewort where the grave-variety is the common variety while the ghost-variety is rarer.

Grave Glovewort - White flower that blooms in catacombs. Each a soundless bell used to summon spirits.

Ghost Glovewort - White flower that blooms in catacombs. A spirit nestles close to it. (see below)

So all death and all re-birth is controlled through the Erdtree, all things are returned back to the Erdtree upon death, right? Not quite. There's other life in the Lands Between that has either been created without the Erdtree's grace or has been stripped of it.

Confirmed graceless creatures are as-follows:

Omen - Though born one of the graceless Omen, Morgott took it upon himself to become the Erdtree's protector

Silver Tears - The Silver Tear makes mockery of life, reborn again and again into imitation. Perhaps, one day, it will be reborn a lord...

Albinaurics (1st gen) - Albinaurics are lifeforms made by human hands. Thus, many believe them to live impure lives, untouched by the Erdtree's grace.

Albinaurics (2nd gen) - The ornamentation represents the primordial drop of dew from which they are said to have been created. The Albinaurics' most formidable foes were sorcerers, after all.

Crystilians - The Crystalians are inorganic beings, yet they live. They cleave close to the ideals of the primeval current, and as such, they are revered guests of the sorcerers..

Suspected Graceless:

Misbegotten: The misbegotten are held to be a punishment for making contact with the Crucible, and from birth they are treated as slaves, or worse.

Interestingly, demi-humans and other variants don't seem to fall under the graceless category.

The silver tears and albinaurics also are very interesting when taken into context of the motivations of the different characters because we can see variations of how they're treated in different areas:

Silver Tears: Created by the Nox as an imitation of life, rarely seen above ground.

Nokron

Nokstella

Hidden Path to the Haligtree - suggest more connections to the Nox with Miquella/the Haligtree than just the Black Knives (more on this later)

Albinaurics (1st gen - males): Seen rapidly aging and losing the use of their legs as they fade out of existence - the legs on these 1st gen albinaurics quite literally are translucent and have no hitbox. These are seen in a lot of places. Some noteable locations:

Liurnia (Albinauric Village) - previously a home, we find them being slaughtered by an Omen Killer and Depraved Perfumer

Liurnia (Caria Manor) - Pidia is a known 1st gen albinauric who also serves as the puppet-keeper; a curious thing considering the Caria Manor connection with puppets and the Nox's hand in creating albinaurics and puppets

Volcano Manor - Tortured likely as a result of Rykard's role as Praetor and Inquisitor

Leyndell - Tortured

Castle Sol - Tortured

Haligtree - Cocooned (more on this later)

Albinaurics (1st gen - females): Not aging like their male counterparts and they seem to have a strong companionship with wolves, almost mimicing the Empyrean/Shadowbound dynamic in a way. They are likewise lose the use of their legs, but theirs are not fading in the same way as the male's are. Only found in two locations:

Liurnia - We find Latenna in her quest towards the Haligtree

Consecrated Snowfields (Ordina Town) - They appear pre-goal in spirit form, but in the goal they are life-like and dressed in the same blue-silver as the Nox as they seemingly protect the path to the Haligtree. We also find Phillia here where Latenna gives her a birthing droplet.

Albinaurics (2nd gen): More frog-like in their shape and less humanoid, these are the more common variant to come across, but usually in different locations:

Lirunia - Found around Raya Lucaria as well as various graveyards, we know they are hunted by the Knights of the Cuckoo - the same knights that rebelled against Rennala and the Carian Royal Family.

Volcano Manor - Tortured

Mohgwyn Palace - Normal and Omen Blood variants can be found throughout

Consecrated Snowfield (teleporter) - A single albinauric can be found outside the teleporter leading to Mohgwyn palace

The way the 1st and 2nd generation albinaurics seem to fail to overlap in locations throughout the course of the game is very interesting and I can't help but wonder when exactly the 2nd generation albinaurics were introduced since they seem to operate in an entirely different manner to the 1st generation. Where the 1st generation is undoubtedly humanoid in nature and can even talk, cast sorceries, and have motivations, the 2nd generation seems to lack all of these features.

We can infer that the Golden Order saw the albinaurics as an affront to their Order in a similar way they do the omens as seen by the Omenkiller present in the albinauric village. So then why does Ranni have one at Caria Manor? It doesn't seem to be a Caria Royal Family thing either because we have Rykard over in volcano manor torturing them and nothing with Radahn, implying he is there with Ranni's permission specifically. His role in maintaining the puppets is also interesting when considering the coup of Rennala that happened and the subsequent siege on Caria Manor where we find the results of the fight with Knights of the Cuckoo turned into puppets reanimated and forced to defend the manor. So what is Ranni and the Caria relationship with the albinaurics?

More importantly - what is their relationship with the Nox?

There's no apparent ties between Rykard and the Nox that I've found or dug into, so we'll skip him.

Radahn does have some loose ties to the Nox through Sellia which has strong ties to the Nox in their specific flavor of assassin sorceries derived from the Night. But since Radahn does not use these same sorceries and uses only gravitational magic (whether by limitation or preference is unclear) from his teachings from the Alabastor Lord, there's no further ties.

Ranni has not only the ties with Pidia, but also Loretta who's shield resembles the dew drop and leads to the rumor of her being an Albinauric and thus derived from the Nox as well. More than any of that, we know Ranni did have very close ties with the Nox with the orchestration of the Night of the Black Knives - though this relationship seems to turn sour afterwards. The Nox also have the fingerslayer blade Ranni seeks in order to kill her own Two Fingers to continue on with her plans. But the most glaring of all the connections I think is her connection with the Dark Moon which influences not only Ranni's ambitions but also her sorceries.

Ranni's Dark Moon - The moon was encountered by a young Ranni, led by the hand of her mother, Rennala. What she beheld was cold, dark and veiled in occult mystery.

Moon of Nokstella - This talisman represents the lost black moon. The moon of Nokstella was the guide of countless stars.

Memory Stone - Said to be a fragment of the black moon that once hung above the Eternal City.

There's a very strong overlap between sorcerers and astrologers as well - another feature that ties directly back to the Nox.

Nightmaiden Twin Crown - Long ago, the Nox invoked the ire of the Greater Will, and were banished deep underground. Now they live under a false night sky, in eternal anticipation of their liege. Of the coming age of the stars. And their Lord of Night.

Ranni's Age of Stars Ending - Now cometh the age of the stars. A thousand year voyage under the wisdom of the Moon. Here beginneth the chill night that encompasses all, reaching the great beyond.

I have SO much more I could add but good god I doubt anyone made it this far as it is. This is what happens when I don't let myself look at other lore theories, local idiot fic writer goes insane trying to piece lore together all by her lonesome to avoid being influence by other's theories.

#cinder rambles #sote commentary #elden ring lore #these are notes for me mostly forcing myself to actually write them out #you are all welcome to read them or try to rather #but be aware its... a lot #like a LOT #and I didn't even touch on my Trina theories #or my Malenia bug theories #or my deathroot theories #or my--

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poisonousquinzel · 2 years ago

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sorry but if you actually think Cancel Culture ™ is a thing then you're kinda a dumb fuck. Cancel culture isn't real, holding people accountable for their actions is a thing, but this whole narrative around Canceling that's evolved over the past few years isn't real. It's never been an actual thing. Its just a fear mongering tactic to further vilify the groups who were being harmed in the first place and victimize the person who did something wrong.

Your fav being called out for playing an antisemitic video game that directly gives profits to a hugely influential TERF, who's said openly she sees getting profits / royalty cheques from her franchise as endorsements for her bigotry, is not "cancel culture". It's called the consequences for your actions.

You have every right to do and play whatever the fuck you want, but that goes both ways. If you go out of your way to build up and financially support these people who're openly advocating to take away trans people's rights, then you get to deal with people not trusting you because of it. You get to deal with trans and Jewish folks not feeling safe around you, not wanting to be around you or not wanting to talk to you. Because you have shown that you care more about nostalgia and temporary personal emotional gratification over the wellbeing and safety of those communities in the real world.

People have explained why supporting HL is wrong, people have explained why it's harmful, people have explained in detail the issues with this situation. You. Just. Don't. Care. You don't listen, or read, because in the end, you can't be bothered enough to put in the effort of having 1 moment of critical thinking.

It's not that folks don't have arguments or evidence, it's that it clearly does not matter to you. It's that the value of an antisemitic game full of one horrific thing after another is worth more to you than the real, living breathing people who are going to be, and have been, affected by this.

You come across as a bad person. Not because some person on Twitter determined you must be, but because your actions speak far louder. And they're screaming red flags.

I'm not going to argue with you over your own bad decisions and life choices. You've made your bed and are mad that people are telling you to lie in it.

#not dc #i need to not focus on this but it makes me so annoyed #and like the constant 'well hp has been a comfort thing of mine since childhood!' like bitch do you think Harry Potter was a niche little #thing????#a fucking lot of us had Harry Potter as something important to us growing up #i remember getting all the legos sets for Christmas in 2011. getting the lego video games and i loved them!#but. that. doesn't. matter.#we're not children anymore and she's not on our side.#JKR made it clear that a large portion of her previous fan base are not welcome around her and that frankly #that she would rather them be dead.#she's a horrendous human being who is causing so much pain and anguish for communities that're just trying to exist #and its built upon the empire she crafted. the one full of stereotypes and offensive imagery and tone-deaf themes.#we aren't kids anymore and it's shameful to gloss over what she is actively doing Right Now because You have fond memories of her world.#a lot of people don't get the luxury of pretending like she's not an awful person because they're the ones she's harming #they're the ones she's spreading hateful rhetoric and stereotypes about. the ones that she's pushing to get their rights taken away.#just put down her shitty fuckhng series and read another book.#i promise you there's hundreds upon hundreds of better ones out there with better plots and better world building.#anti harry potter #anti jkr #anti hogwarts legacy #tw transphobia mention #tw antisemitism mention #figure I'll tw tag just in case ya got it filtered 💖

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ohcaptains · 5 months ago

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knuckle velvet

synopsis. he walks you home, then lets himself in.

pairing. logan howlett x f!reader. tags. [18+] dubious consent, vaginal penetration, female receiving oral sex, spitting. honey don't feed it, it'll come back type beat.

Some deep part of Canada, where everything was white. Snowstorms that swarmed through the sky, and the only warmth you could find came from the bottom of a bottle.

The wood floor of the sticky bar you worked in was soaked from frost covered boots – haphazardly scraped across the welcome mat, owners preoccupied with getting their first drink than keeping the place tidy.

You existed there, behind the bar that patrons lent against, like a metal cage with leering onlookers. They paid in drinks, but you took the money home as tips, your warmth stoked in a fireplace.

How you’d ended up there in that forgotten part of the world, you didn’t know.

Perhaps you’d followed a narrow path, one strung out with thorns and rubbish, but the money was okay.

When it got slow, and there wasn’t much else to do, your boss let you read a bit, too, while you sipped on your endless supply of Coca-Cola.

At the end of your shift, your teeth were fuzzy from all the sugar.

An easy existence, but some nights, the patrons got too friendly.

They were fresh off their trucks, looking for some place warm to bury for the night, but you weren’t offering.

So, you’d peer at them, watch them make a fool of themselves as they spewed putrid words in your general direction – alcohol and lack of sleep causing the floor to sway from beneath their feet.

It was always the new boys who would try it.

Risk it all for a chance between your thighs, unaware of the hound sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a whiskey and a vendetta.

The first time he fought for you, the air had changed. Gone cloudy with the chance of a brawl – that sixth sense that all bartenders have switching on.

“Lady said no, ain’t she?” he bellowed from across the bar.

The voice thick with smoke and alcohol, you recognised him as the guy who’d been drinking whiskey all night, but he was as sober as a nun. No stumble to his step, or slur to his cadence, either.

He was built like an oak tree. You noticed when you served him. Slid him his drink and gazed at the sheer bulk of him. At the weathered, handsome age to his face, to the spray of grey in his brown hair.

His thick arms were snugly buried under a button up shirt, and you didn’t see, but rather imagined, the way his muscular legs were stuffed into jeans, and the way his size 12’s rested against the hardwood.

His eyes though, were hiding something. Milky brown concealing his curiosity – easily done with the hard panes of his face.

You imagined letting him take you home, and you thought about being friendly, before a whisper in the back of your cranium told you to back off.

Perhaps safer.

You didn’t know where this man had come from, let alone where he’d been. So, you continued to serve him drinks, and tried to ignore the quiet hum of his presence, until the hum turned to a crash.

The patron was scorned. He paused, and turned to the end of the bar, where the brown eyed stranger was waiting. “What’s it to you?” he slurred.

But the man with the whiskey wasn’t looking to him. He sipped his drink, and said, “she said no. You don’t remember your manners?”

The bar adorned an eerie quiet. Nerves sat low in your belly, heart picking up speed. “This guy serious?” he asked you.

You went to say something, but he was already throwing words at the stranger.

“She yours or something?” “It matter?” “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” The stranger scoffed, and brought his drink to his lips, “whatever bub.”

“We got a problem?” the man uttered, stalking towards him, but his friend took him by the arm and whispered something in his ear, forcing him to deflate.

You wondered what he’d uttered. Whether there were rumours about the guy – a reputation you didn’t know about.

Brown eyes didn’t bat an eye when the man and his buddy slid out the door, cold filling the room before the door slammed shut.

The bar exhaled.

People went back to their business, and you thought about it, you really did. Thought about leaving him alone. Going back to your measly existence. Your home – the pit for all of your things.

But it didn’t win over in the end.

You topped up his drink. He took it, and glanced at you, brown eyes ringed with mystery.

“That happen often?” he uttered, voice a gruff grunt.

You put the bottle down, and looked away, thinking back to last week when you nearly fought a guy for staring for too long. You glanced back to him. “Sometimes.” “Your boss is an asshole for letting you work here alone.” “That so?” you laughed, shocked at his candour. He nodded and downed his drink, eyeing you from over the rim.

Finished, he put the glass down on the bar, and shrugged his jacket on. He got up to leave, and you felt a chasm begin to open up in your chest.

You went to say something. Anything, to make him stay. But he paused and looked over his shoulder.

His jaw was clenched when he tentatively offered, “be safe.”

When you locked up, he was waiting for you.

It didn’t scare you. Really, it should, but when you left the bar and saw him standing there, toking on a cigar in the cold, all it did was make you pause. He stood there, gazing at you, eyes clouded by smoke.

“You waiting for me?” you uttered, making it real, even if the light drift of snow was giving the world a dream like quality.

He shrugged. “Just waiting.”

You nodded, and put the bar keys in your bag, ignoring the chasm get wider. If he was going to rob the place, he’d have to get through layers of receipts and tissues to get in. But you knew the bar wasn’t what he was after. Something about his posture, the luring look in his brown eyes — curious, like he was trying to figure something out.

You began to walk past him, but when he didn’t follow, you paused. You peered over your shoulder, and he was still looking at you.

Taking you in. “Well,” you started, hitching your bag up your arm, “you gonna walk me home, or what?”

He followed you in comfortable silence.

Just you, the night, and the crunch of dirt under his boots. His cigar smoke drifted by, and it wafted through your subconscious, followed by pine, and crisp scent of the snow.

He sounded like the noise of the woods — ever present in these parts. A comfort, if one had adapted to its unpredictability. When you got to your familiar walkway, you opened the gate, but he didn’t follow you through.

Instead, he stood by the entrance, watching you unlock your door like he’d just dropped you off from a date. it was when you were halfway through that he spoke up. “You work every night?”

“Yeah,” you started quickly, looking to him. “Apart from Wednesday and Sunday.” He considered you, then gave you a sharp nod, and turned to leave.

That’s how you ended up with a wolf at your door.

Every night, he was the last one left, then he silently walked you home.

Some nights, you’d find him leaning against the entrance, and he’d quietly peel away from the door and follow you. At first, he simply walked closely behind, a looming shadow, until he began walking beside you.

Then one night, you let him in.

Made him a cup of coffee to fight off all the liquor he consumed, and he sat at your kitchen table, and drank every drop.

Watched you in the low, fluorescent lighting, and you did the same. Curiously studied him. He looked different in your home. In your kitchen. Looked a little softer around the edges, even if he couldn’t relax completely.

It went like that for a while. It was on one of these nights that he gave you his name, followed by a shitty cup of coffee. Sometimes two. Maybe a biscuit, or a piece of cake. Leftovers turned into home cooked meals. Sat at the kitchen table and watched him eat. Roast beef. Mashed potatoes. Lasagna. Sipped at your cup of tea as he slopped up his pasta, using the back of his hand to wipe the sauce off his mouth.

You left him finishing off his plate to get ready for bed, and it was when you were sorting your hair out, that he came into your bedroom and began taking his boots off.

You stood at your mirror and watched him place them near your door.

Then he reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

One by one, you watched his thick fingers reach the bottom. He took it off, revealing a white tank off and broad chest, and hung the shirt up on your door frame.

Jeans next.

Popped the button and shucked them to his feet -- threw them with his boots and dragged himself towards your bed.

You went to say something. Anything.

But he looked so exhausted as he crashed onto your frilly bed, that all you could manage was, “You lock the door?”

Logan nodded. His eyes were already closed, and he was hugging the pillow when he uttered, “you coming to bed, or what?”

You let him stay the night.

Maybe it was raining, maybe he was too tired – it didn’t matter. All that mattered, was that he was warm, and sometimes, when you woke and felt the terrifying ache of being alive, he’d be there to quiet the pain.

Hush you with the soft swell of his lips and wandering hands.

You’d come with a hushed whisper, hot and sticky over his calloused fingers -- drowsy from how high he took you. Then he’d kiss you, fix your clothes, and go back to sleep.

Always the middle of the night. When it was dark and quiet out, and it felt as if you were the last people alive.

His skilled hands bringing you to the brink, a soft kiss, then back to bed.

You would wait for it. Watch him nurse his whiskey at the end of the bar, the night dragging with every drink you poured. Then, he watched you lock up.

Waited at the door for you, so you could walk home together, wordlessly taking the familiar trail.

He’d eat, you’d watch, then leave for your room.

Once, you woke to his head between your thighs. The night was quiet, room dark – slither of moonlight from your window cutting a line through your bodies.

You were slick with sweat, and as you flexed your taunt muscles, they fizzled and singed. Hot heat pushed low in your belly, rooted between your thighs.

Logan hummed, and you reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, whimpering his name to grab his attention.

He had palm fulls of you. Fists of your thighs, soft of your belly, leaving marks with his desire – desperation. The first thing he did was apologise. Muttered a hoarse, m’sorry, into your soaking cunt, but continued tasting you.

You used his hair as leverage, and hitched your hips up an inch, causing his nose to bump into your sensitive clit, and you hissed, as if in pain, but the sound trailed off into something similar to his name, and Logan grunted, moving your hips further up so he could twist a thick finger inside.

You took all he gave.

Moaned into the pillow beside you as you rocked your hips against his face, soaking his nose and mouth. Said shit you didn’t mean, but meant all the same, and Logan got off on it.

This mysterious man who had taken over your life, grunted your name like it belonged to him. Made you come on his thick beard and puffy lips, then made you taste yourself as he kissed you.

You hugged his sweat slick frame to you, fingers scratching his scalp, mindlessly grinding against his clothed cock. You were content to just kiss him, until he dragged his fingers between your thighs again.

You startled, gasping into his hot mouth, but Logan hummed, near smiling against your lips.

“’think there’s another in there for me,” he drawled.

When he fucked you, there was so much of him that you went blind with it. Eyes half lidded, delirious as he pushed inside, making himself fit. Stuffing you full, then pulling out, just to feel it all over again.

Again and again. You moaned his name into his soaked, scarred chest. Felt yourself leave your body, so hot, so wet, that it was all sensation. Just the slap of his hips against yours, the feel of his hands on your tits, in your mouth, telling you to open wide.

He spat, and when he missed, he smeared the mess off of your chin and rubbed it into your cunt.

Made you come, then filled you with his own. Leant back, and watched it drip out of you. You were so consumed by him, that you didn’t have enough energy to feel self-conscious.

No, when he had his wild eyes on you, you reached between your thighs and stuffed it back inside.

The next evening, and he was back at the bar, waiting for you to bring him his whiskey. When you placed it in front of him, those wild eyes were on you again.

Waiting. Always waiting.

Waiting to play out your usual routine.

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tteokdoroki · 3 months ago

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✎ᝰ. OCT 1ST ★ BONDAGE - satoru gojo .ᐟ

[CHAPTER ONE RAPUNZEL] satoru gojo as flynn rider + bondage. once upon a time, a girl trapped in a tower with nothing but her extremely lavish, long hair as company decides…fuck it and sleeps with a handsome stranger to get what she wants ( 9.1K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, rapunzel!au, strangers to lovers, role reversal & switching, orgasm control, sensory deprivation, edging, thigh riding, spit kink, outer-course, begging, handjobs (m!recieving), reader's hair has blonde streaks but colour remains ambigous, rapunzel + fem!reader, flynn rider!satoru gojo.

✧ fairy godmother's note - yippieee!! kickstarting spooky season with this hefty boy. we have our glorious blue eyed king welcoming you all to our fourth annual tteokdoroki kinktober - i hope you all like what's planned this year and enjoy this piece to start with !! kissies hehe <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

“you’re going to take me to see the floating lights. or else.”

“or else, what, honey?”

ever since satoru gojo climbed the wooden lattice sewn to your tower by blooming, overgrown weeds and winding vines effectively invading the safest space in the world ( according to mother ), he’s been a pain in your fucking ass. when he’d first arrived, a towering and unfamiliar figure creeping about the main floor — your heart had dropped to the base of your stomach, pulsing rapidly with fear while he scoped the scene. you’d never come across a man before, mother had made sure of that, warning you of their cruelty and ugliness both inside and out. except satoru looked nothing like the descriptions your mother had left you with, you’d say that the man was stunning. not that you had much to compare him to.

his hair was a crisp white, appearing soft to the touch much like the snowfall that came in the winter months (something about playing in it. contrastingly, his eyes were a beautiful shade of baby blue — eerily similar to that of a summer sky free of cloudiness. he was too good looking to be human, for it to be natural, almost as if satoru had strolled straight out of one of the many fairytale books mother purchased for you from the markets. although, over the years you’ve probably read each book cover to cover a million times and not one fictional prince could even match this stranger’s sheer beauty.

though for now, this handsome stranger’s looks would get him nowhere with you. strangers always came with dangers, and since all you’d known throughout your years of living were these four walls, you weren’t going to take any chances with satoru and whatever problems he’d have brought with him. initially and out of an unfamiliar fear, you’d taken the nearest weapon to you (a frying pan) and cracked it right over his skull — watching the hunk of a human collapse to his knees and eventually black right out. if mother were around, she would have been proud. you’d tried not to feel any guilt trying to stuff his limp, lengthy limbs in your closet or under your bed because… well, what business does this stranger have with you? what the fuck is a man doing here? how did he get here? why is he here?

your whole life you’ve been convinced that the outside word was treacherous and that you had to stay inside, where it was safe, because people were horrible and selfish — intent on hunting you down for the powers that lay intertwined in the coils of your hair. those specific streaks that glow a valuable gold between the usual colour of your locks whenever you sang. mother would style them the way you liked every night — so long as you sung for her. you weren’t about to let mother down, nor risk the little life you built here together.

but, as it turns out, satoru wasn’t looking for the magic sprouting from your crown and entangled in your hair. it almost seemed like he had no idea about them either. rather, the moonlit haired man was looking for a place to lay low and hide after being chased through the forest for his satchel that seemingly carries something valuable. a crown… jewels that have a weight familiar to your head and sparkle like something you’ve seen before in a distant memory.

“come to think of it, honey, where is my satchel?” cocking his head to the side, sky blue eyes peer up at you with a charm that sends a foreign swarm of butterflies ripping through your stomach.

you frown, accusingly pointing your weapon of choice at gojo’s head and puffing out your chest to appear as intimidating as possible while giving him your name. “i’ve hidden it in a secure location—“

“it’s in that pot…isn’t it?”

as best as he can in the handcuffs he can call locks of your hair, the tower’s newfound infiltrator gestures towards a colourful pot in the corner of tne room. what? all you could think of in the moment is restraining him against the chair and why waste perfectly good rope when you’ve got such length to your own hair? the pot was the closest spot too.you knock him out swiftly after his guess, not giving gojo the satisfaction of finding his precious purse.

now, with the satchel hidden once more, satoru gojo semi-concussed and conscious once again — you realise that for the first time in your life, you have some kind of leverage to bargain with. you need someone to take you to see the floating lights that illuminate the sky on your birthday, every year. satoru needs his… crown? that so obviously doesn’t belong to him. of course, he would have stolen it, mother always said men were no good and always take what isn’t theirs (oh the irony). nonetheless, it was the perfect match of desires.

this way, you could prove to mother that you weren’t weak like she said you were. that you could cope by yourself and go explore the outside world. it wouldn’t be how it usually is with mother — where you ask for something and instantly get denied because she believes you to be too naive to function in a world outside of her. not this time. this time you have a bargaining chip. a satchel containing a valuable so rare that satoru was willing to risk his life for.

your captive wriggles against the restraints of your hair, woven around the chair like tough knots of a rope to keep him at bay. while the silver haired fox may not have canines like your mother suggested, you have no idea how powerful he could be. contrastingly, gojo finds your hair to be soft against his skin, ticklish along the veins of his arms despite how secure it has him strapped down. he’s forced to listen and to follow your every move across the floor plan, guided by the strength of your hair tugging him about.

“i have a proposition for you. come, look.” drawing back a curtain to reveal a painting from earlier — you recite your plan to your intruder. tomorrow evening, he will take you to see the floating lights … ahem…lanterns that drift across the sky on your birthday every year and then, return you safely to the tower before mother returns. it’s an easy deal. “i won’t give your satchel back until then,” you stutter out fiercely, adjusting your height and the grip you have on the cool metal frying pan. “you won’t get it back until you’ve taken me to see the lights.”

“oh whatever, i can just take it back, honey,” satoru goads, cockily ripping his head back in patronising laughter. even though the melodious sound makes irritation bubble hot underneath your skin, you can’t help the way your eyes are immediately drawn to the man’s Adam’s apple as it bobs delectably along with his chuckles. “as soon as i get out of this…hair? hair.” pale blue eyes flicker up to your face when gojo fixes himself in the seat he’s fixed to. they bore deeply into your soul, reading you with as much ease as you have flicking through the same three books that you own. you feel the weight of your hair shift around satoru’s shoulders as he gestures down to it nearly wrapped around his bulging forearms (not that you’d been paying attention). “this is kinda freaky, hon. don’cha think?” a slow sexy smirk tugs at the corners of gojo’s plush, glossy lips, or rather, he smoulders attempting to woo you into giving him what he wants. “you don’t seem like the freaky type, sweetheart.”

once more, a frustrated flame flares up in the middle of your chest — you’d feel offended for sure if you know what gojo meant. “freaky?”

“as in like… dubious?” he grins in response, running the pink tip of his tongue over his straight, perfectly white teeth. “this is basically bondage, yanno?”

you blink once. confused.

“improper?”

nothing, not one of these synonyms or explanations from the smiling idiot makes any more sense to you — bringing you to tilt your head to the side, innocently like a puppy that makes satoru laugh once more. this time it actually does something to you. sends weird butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

with a shake of snow white locks and an inhale that sounds amused as it goes, your hostage clicks his tongue — letting those cooling blue eyes slink up and down your virtuous frame . the swell of his lower lip trapped between pretty perfect teeth. “as in sexy, sweet thing.” satoru’s sickly sweet and powdered sugar coo slips through one ear and out of the other like hot, viscous molasses, you immediately shudder — flustered down to the meat on your bones, curling in on yourself as your faux intimidation tactics melt from your body and slip between the floorboards beneath your bare feet. “gosh! you’re so innocent,” his gaze rips away from you, and you fight back an unexpected whimper, missing the intruder’s gaze on you. “guess that’s what being trapped in a place like this does to a darlin’ thing like you. you wouldn’t last a day out there.”

he’s patronising you. speaking to you as though you’re no more than a child. however, being talked over and down on is all you’ve ever known, especially from your mother… but the way he acts reminds you of all of the advice she’s bestowed upon you over the years. mother tells you all the time, how naive and silly you are. how people will try and take advantage of your looks and your kindness. and so you decide to use your mother’s advice — if all humans, act like dogs, you’ll throw one a bone and wait for them to come back for more.

steeling yourself, you use a loop of your hair to drag gojo’s chair toward you — positioning him like a puppet beneath your cold, hard stare. he man spreads on the chair as best as he can in his restraints, leaning back while his seat tilts backwards on a forty-five degree angle — drawing your eyes from his face to his thick thighs momentarily. “you are going to take me to see the lights. it’s a promise, not a threat,” you whisper into the air that buzzes with tension between you both, leaning down and pinning gojo in place. you’re so close, so little proximity between your faces, that you can practically feel his warm breath lingering on the damp skin of your lips. “and i promise, i’ll make this worth your while.”

your voice lowers an octave, smooth and buttery and just right. like a snare for a wild white rabbit or bait on a hook — it peaks satoru’s interest, illicit thoughts and desires flashing behind his pupils like lightbulb ideas. “oh, honey. i can make you see stars alright,” he looks up at you then, with an expression of heat and thirst, dragging you into a pool of shining blue eyes that you barely manage to free yourself from. drowning in his attention once more. you stand over him proudly, between his legs smugly and all he wants to do is wipe the winning smile from your face and show you a real good time.

if he could, gojo would reach up and grab at your hips possessively, if he could he’d cup your neck and let his fingers toy with your baby hairs to pull you into a sloppy kiss. he can’t help the way white hot desire spreads through his system like throwing gasoline on an open fire and pile of wood. he grins mischievously, and in response, a brand new sensation stirs within your lower tummy — blistering hot as it zips between your chest and your core.

you sense the change in the atmosphere and gojo does too. both of you dying to scratch the itch on the part of your brain that is the control centre for lust. but you remind yourself what this is truly about, tell yourself not to get lost in the haze of it all, and will yourself to throw a loop of your hair over daring blue eyes like a blindfold — acting fast to secure a seat in an unsuspecting satoru gojo’s vacant lap.

he grunts in surprise, flinches when he realises one out of five of his senses are down. “what the fuck—?” gojo spits, cocky smirk melting away.

“shhh,” you taunt the man under your breath, leaning forward so that your voice coasts over the shell of his ear like a summery breeze. it invokes a sense of pride within your chest when your hostage tilts his head to follow your voice — his own breathing erratic and increasingly shallow with how he begins to struggle against your restraint on him. “you won’t get a chance to make me see those lights. not if i get you to see them first.”

in truth, you've got nothing planned. you’ve never been in the same room as a man, let alone pleasure them the way that you’ve read in books you’d borrowed from your mother.

the reality of the scene before you is daunting, giving up part of your virtue just to prove a point and get to see the floating lights like you’ve always wanted…but at the same time — it’s your one chance at freedom that’s at stake here. “you don’t sound so sure about that, sweetheart,” satoru taunts you with the peaks in his voice coltishly high. he continues to wrestle against the restraints of your hair — he’s strong and with a little more force he could escape but it’s like he senses your hesitancy.

like he knows for certain you won’t make good on your promise. just like mother.

that much is evident in the way his smooth, glossy lips tick upwards into an arrogant smirk.

your determination to prove him wrong grows more and more by the second, so before you succumb to your nerves again, you let your free hand claw with way over gojo’s right shoulder — steadying him, forcing him to sit still as you make a comfortable seat out of his widespread lap. he tenses at first, unable to see you move, but his grin remains, you have no idea if it’s because he’s proud of you or doubting you — but the expression only serves to piss you off even more.

“what’s next, sweetheart?”

a strangled growl is your only reply, the most menacing sound you can muster as you lift head upwards and his pool of loose silver-moon locks fall out of place. with a shuddering breath and a hold of gojo’s restraints, you press your lips to his in a shaky kiss — still unsure of where your lips go and what to do with your teeth and how to move your tongue. the captive beneath you knows it and takes advantage of your weakness, nipping at the swell of your lower lip gently — hardly enough to draw blood. satoru is testing you, telling you to be brave and take from him. prove to him that you’re willing to do whatever you want for him to make your silly childhood dream come true.

he allows you to fight back, despite this being your idea, lets you forcefully grab his angular jaw and capture him in a proper spit-swapping kiss. if he really wanted to, he’d find a way to escape from the tight bounds of your lengthy hair. but he doesn’t. gojo lets you swallow him down; push your tongue exploratively into his mouth and lap at his foreign flavour. he wants your tongue to take dominance from his, pink appendages sloppily rolling over one another, slipping and sliding as you take and take from satoru.

the kiss, already uncoordinated from your lack of experience, becomes hurried and hungry and wet the more you steal from satoru. you take and take and take until his glass his half full and his brain slowly becomes devoid of all logical thought. he comes the prey to your predatory mouth, missing the way your hand frees his pale cheek and fingers fluidly traverse down his broad shoulders, over his marble sculpted body to find purchase in the belt loops of his bothersome pants. now curious, you feel your way down the front of the fabric and grin into the hot and heavy kiss when satoru’s lets out a breathy, staggered moan into your open mouth.

his swelling erection twitches in response to your inquisitive hand, slender hips involuntarily jumping upwards.

“fuuuck,” satoru chuckles airily, words featherlight as they breeze along your lips. his head keens upwards too, chasing the weight of your hot sticky tongue in his mouth — desperate to be closer, craving the feeling of your nose knocking against his and your breath on his cheek from just how pressed up against each other you are. “fuck baby that’s it. kiss me more, touch me harder…” he’s addicted before he even knows what you have to offer, what he’s getting himself into. if you could see his eyes from under his binding, you’d bare witness to pleading blue pools swirling with a painful desire as he twitches beneath you, wriggling his wrists to get free. “c’mon, touch me.” he adds between sloppy pecks.

backing your face out of satoru’s reach, you break the drooly lip lock — letting your lungs fill with oxygen it had once missed, while your heaving chest syncs up with the intruder you have strapped to a chair. you pull away, connected to the man by not just your hair, but a string of saliva glazed across your lips — cautiously, your tongue dart out to break the the between your eager mouths, two sets of uneven panting filling the quiet air.

the two of you remain unmoving and unwilling to back down while you catch your breath; but your hand remains in the centre of gojo’s lap — rocking it back and forth, back and forth over his growing bulge. you stare at him, observing the reactions that he tries so hard to control. little twitches to his pink swollen lips and the flare of his nostrils whenever your palm makes contact with a sensitive spot. all this waiting is agony, the white haired captive might die if he doesn’t get more from you soon.

satoru whines impatiently as a result, knowing full well what you want and you won’t ask him again — not when you’re tauntingly squeezing his cock for a second, third, fourth, fifth time. he doesn’t fucking know — overwhelmed by waves of lust-infested blood rushes to its blistering hot tip. “fuck! okay, okay fine. i’ll take you! just—“ the chair rattles from the force of gojo’s struggle against your restraints, which hardly covers the low moan that escapes from between his plush glossy lips while his length pulses against the inside of his pants. “just fuck me. touch me. anything.”

something about his tone being all desperate and high activates a part of you that you never even knew existed. a part of you that knows what to do next… even if you haven’t acted it out, you’ve enough books to remember what the erotic ones say.

only then, after he pleads, do you use your shaky hands to tug down the garment — pulling them towards his knees as best as you can against your hair until the button pops free. the zipper follows easily and the waistband falls away from starlight skin and slender hips. everything gets hotter; any fresh air between your bodies becoming tinged with the need for sex as the scorching ghost of your fingertips leaves burn marks against satoru’s pelvis, and sends heatwaves of ardour from the base of his spine to the top of his skull.

satoru’s squirming pauses while he waits with uneven breathing for your next move — tongue pressing up against the barricade of his white teeth to prevent himself from taunting you further or perhaps to stop himself from belting out another pathetic set of whimpers. he wishes he could see you, those sweet innocent eyes looking down at him as you peel back the last layer of fabric stopping you from accessing his painfully hard erection. his underwear.

when you gasp in shock, pride weaves itself between the bones that protect his heart and lungs like an uninvited weed, he knows that he’s decent. longer than he is thick, bright red at his mushroomed tip and leaky from just how turned on he is. there’s a trail of silver moon hair that leads you down a path from his belly button to the thickest part of his dick too. but oh, how satoru gojo wishes he could see.. the way you lick your lips as drool drowns your tongue, mouth watering at the sight of his length slapping against his clothed stomach while he manspreads for you. the way your pupils dilate, the colour in your eyes swallowed by a dark veil of carnality.

this is a hunger you’ve never experienced before, a type of starvation that makes your hand lurch forward before your brain can control it, gripping satoru at the base of his milky, slender shaft. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a cock; let alone held one between your tiny fingers — it’s much warmer than you anticipated, tacky to the touch from dribbles of precum running down from his untouched tip, but you like it. the weight, the wet sound it makes when you slightly flick your wrist around satoru. not to mention the stuttered groan he lets out, his head falling against the support of the chair and yanking slightly on the blindfold made of hair that covers his eyes.

if you weren’t sitting in his lap, you’d want him in your drooling mouth. you’d sink down to your knees like the girls in your naughty books and take him down your virgin throat, just so you could look up at satoru and watch the sweat bead down his jawline and run a track over his bobbing adam’s apple. but you’re not and you’ve got a point to prove, so you loop your hair around your other wrist to tighten his restraints and extend a thumb upward from his base to his seedy tip, jamming the pad of it through the slit where he pre forms in thick, creamy pearls. as white as those that come from an oyster.

“that’s it gorgeous, just like that…” satoru leers up at you huskily, voice tinged with neediness that he fails to mask. he seems to like the way you touch him and you’re sure to use a delicate hand when you smooth the supple pad of your thumb over the pad of his sensitive tip, rubbing his opaque precum into it sweetly. “touch me s’more? you can do it… i know you’re shy, can hear your breathing ‘n how heavy it is. shit, you’re new at this.” saliva slows down satoru’s salacious words as he rambles to you with swollen lips and rosy cheeks, angling his head in whatever direction your breath seems to be coming from.

he’s in tatters, destroyed by a few simple touches with his hard on smearing white across the front of his clothes. you roll your palm over his mushroomed cockhead next to test the waters and take pleasure in admiring the way he trembles, grasping at the arms of the chair you have him strapped to in order to ground himself. it’s torture for satoru to be this patient, killing him slowly from the inside out like a virus spreading across his brain and other vital organs — but it doesn’t mean you’re in any better state. practically dripping in his lap with your panties dampening more and more every time satoru so much as whimpers. past the point of being turned on by the sight of a strong, powerful man weak and blindfolded underneath you.

satoru bucks upward at your command, sucking in a breath as his sensitive, seedy slit bumps your palm once more. “s-shit… please.”

the improper ness of the entire situation sends a zap of electricity to your swelling clit. you’ve only ever imagined being with someone like this as you have seeing the floating lights — touching yourself beneath your skirts and under your painted ceilings whenever you were brave enough. now you’re here, spread over the thick thighs of a possible thief who begs you to jerk him off. “s-shut up,” you hiss as embarrassment and inexperience begins to shine through the deal you’ve struck with gojo, the fact that he can tell as much and still wants this has you soaked all the way through and aching for friction as well.

you’ve never been in possession of so much power in your life. mother never let you have it. but right now, you can taste it sparking between you and gojo, smell it in the air teeming mixed with a cocktail of your arousals. in the moment you realise that the silver haired man would cling onto every one of your sugar-coated words (no matter how nervous) if it meant he got the fuck he wanted in the end. and you would get to see your lights too.

“just… tell me what to do,” you say without realising how husky your own voice has gotten. “i promised you your crown, to make you feel good if you took me to see the lights. and i never go back on a promise. s-so tell me.” talking yourself into it and building up some more confidence, you circle over satoru’s bulbous cockhead again — gaze laser focused on the burning bright red colour as it oozes. you know that he likes it and it makes his head spin so much that he starts to fight against the restraint of your hair again. “i won’t let you go, not until this is over. so tell me what i can do to make you cum.”

despite not being able to see his entire face, gojo’s smug smile says it all — his perfect teeth cheerily on display, contrasting with the flustered pink tint to his cheeks. “cup it, make a fist around my cock so you can jerk me off’a little bit,” a haughty moan scratches at the walls of your captive’s throat when you follow his guidance and finally grip him fully, soft and supple hands easily dwarfed by the size of him. satoru’s shaft may be a little thinner, but he’s thick enough to fill your own throat and cause a stretch to your quivering hole with his balls being round, plump and full of white hot seed saved up just for you. “christ, squeeze my base a lil’ before you get movin’,” at first contact, satoru’s thighs tremble deliciously against your mound, blood rushing to your clit and through the forked veins that spiral down his length.

your senses are overwhelmed, he smells so good — of peppermint and a musky twang of sex act like dangerous smelling salts or fumes. you could get addicted if you weren’t careful. you’re super aware of each ridge and firm vein that decorates him and as you start to palm satoru steadily, you notice just how sticky your hand is — movements guided by the wet cream of his cock. slipping and sliding as your closed fist moves up and down, up and down, occasionally squeezing the base of him just like he asked. your knuckles brushing the soft bush of pubic hair at his pelvis. you can only imagine how everything feels for him, not being able to see at all.

the thought just barely crosses your mind — too focused on speeding up your soiled hand around gojo just to hear more of his angelic gripes and groans that rise and fall from his heaving chest. how good all of this must feel for the man without being able to see. every touch must make him tick and drip and throb achingly. he must feel weak too, completely vulnerable to anything you might do to him while blindfolded and unable to touch you because of bonds formed by your hair.

once you set a steady rhythm to your closed fist to jerk him off with, gojo takes a breather to announce his next command — head shaking side to side with moonlight locks sticking to his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the inferno of desire spreading through of his limbs. “now spit on it,” he states bluntly, an obvious dip to the octave in his voice. you can’t possibly imagine why he’d need spit; your hand is already glossed with a shiny layer of precum, tainting your knuckles from the viscosity.

you swallow thickly, but don’t dare stop pleasuring your captive stranger. “w-what?”

“are you kidding me just—“ leaning forward as best as he can while held back by the strong locks of your hair, like rope around his wrists. dopamine crackles over your brain like fireworks in an enclosed space at the scene that unfolds next, satoru pursing his lips to spit onto his own milky dick — letting the frothy mix from mouth join the mess that lubes the both of you up where connected. “just spit on it, honey. thought you wanted me to feel it.”

licking your lips, you rub down satoru’s girth far enough to drag the glob of spit down to his tender weighty balls, that pulse at your gentle touch. the feeling makes satoru’s entire body jolt like an electric shock — a gargled groan clambering out from the depths of his panting chest as his jaw goes slack and mouth falls open. “please. please spit on it, honey. god please.. need you to wet my cock. i need it so bad, promise i’ll be fucking good.” blind but with his remaining senses in tact, gojo remains largely vulnerable to your touch, his entire world tilting on one axis when you grip his dick a little harder at his request. causing a ring of white to gather where the circle of your wrist envelopes him.

at his begging. which you swear makes you gush like a small, erotic stream — your juices sloshing about in the gusset of your panties while your sex goes unattended.

so you nod obediently, tilting your head forward and parting your swollen lips to let a thick, syrupy string of your own spit ooze onto his plump and sore balls, stroking him rapidly to spread it over his creamy tip as well. your spit is contrastingly cool in comparison to the natural lubricant smeared all over your captive’s palpitating dick — causing it to grow impossibly harder. it slickens up your hand, evidence of the silver haired man’s arousal seeping through the fabric of his crumpled shirt and coils of your restrictive hair. neither of you can bring yourselves to care in the moment — all you can think to do is relish in gojo’s size.

he’s so big, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered how satoru fit entirely inside your tight hole, stretching you out in the new future — earning yourself a fresh wave of liquid lava hot essence to your ruined panties. you dare to dream onwards, picturing the azure eyed stranger fucking you against the walls of the tower in every way the man knew possible… you have no idea what he’s capable of when untied. but the sight of him lazily thrusting into your filthied fist like it’s instinct, following it like a moth to a candle flame, is enough dream fuel to last you a lifetime. even after the deal is complete and the lights are just a distant memory.

eventually, you decide to pull off of satoru to give your wrist a break — walking your fingers up the broad expanse of his built chest to tweak his nipples between your tingling bodies. his entire frame is wracked with a case of shivers, mouth parting in a high-pitched, whiny whimper with strings of saliva connecting its roof to his tongue. you’re so pathetically turned on, drool pooling on your tongue like a hot flash flood.

it’s why you tighten your grip on your hair and thus his restraints, resulting in satoru staggering forward. closer, panting like a damn dog in rut. drawing your free hand up towards your lips and away from his pecs, the proximity between you becomes so little that satoru can practically smell the musky evidence of sex that you lick from your hand. “oh… you taste so good,” you lament in a dulcet tone, failing to miss the way gojo’s dangerous azure eyes dart about beneath his makeshift blindfold, probably dying to see you get a taste of him.

“d-don’t say that, you’ll make me fuckin’ cum, honey.” he gulps, involuntarily pumping his hips into the air, chasing your hand which he needs so desperately to feel good. “please don’t stop.” while begging you — satoru is the perfect picture of a ruined man, though you’re sure he would say the same about you if you hadn’t strapped your hair over his line of vision. his milky skin glistens as though it’s the very source of light for the silvery moon — illuminated by droplets of sweat from the exertion off fucking your fist like a squelching, welcoming pussy. his cheeks glow warmly with a dusty shade of pink and there’s a red ring forming around his lips from where he’s bitten them to control his wails of ecstasy.

succumbing to the obscenity of it all, you reach forward and lick a stripe into his hellfire hot mouth. effectively sharing the saltine flavour of gojo’s own precum with him while he languidly sucks all the tang from your pink appendage. his angel white lashes flutter shut at the heaviness of your tongue against his own. the kiss is messy and mismatched, saliva seeps from the corners of your mouth and drags a sticky train down your chin. parting briefly, you spit it into the middle of your palm — happily taking satoru’s cock back into your talented hold and providing a solace to soothe its passionate ache.

“ngh… i can feel you. f-fuck. feel you tryin’ not to grind against me, sweetheart.” somehow, gojo finds pockets of air to taunt you in — his voice an arousing mix of a raspy whine and cocky tone. “so wet, i can smell you too. so sweet. dripping all over your panties while you jerk me off. do you need that needy pussy taken care of?”

everything he’s said is true, while the man with the sweaty silver locks fought to escape the prison of your hair — desperate to see how you pleased him, you fought the growing pit in your stomach. the urge to use satoru for release. you’d never hit your peak with another person before, only your smaller-than-his fingers whenever mother left for more than a day or two.

you admit to nothing, continuing to stroke satoru to his own high — his panted moans accompanied by the sound of skin slapping skin from your hand fisting him to the high heavens. “please baby, i wanna help get you off. feel that wet little cunt. let me go, i’ll be so good to you if you let me touch your sweet c—“

“n-no! we had a deal. my rules.” you stutter, denying yourself. denying him.

“c’mon sweetheart,” a strained and petulant whine echoes throughout the tower — satoru thrusting shallowly through your closed hand in order to match his rhythm to the flick of your wrist. “please, god, baby. if you won’t let me touch you, or at least see you, then can you put that pretty pussy on my thigh? ride it real good? wanna know how you sound when you’re being pleasured…when you give into it all. please honey, give me somethin’ to work with. anythin’…”

gojo presses, like a disciple begging their god for mercy. begging you for mercy. there’s never been this much power in your reach, the ability to control a man who could easily over power you with your sex makes your mind feel egotistically weighty. your resolve crumbles just a tad, satoru’s neediness chipping away at its foundation until your hips instinctively position themselves perfectly over the swell of his right thigh. how bad could it be? giving him an inch when you’ve taken a mile from him. mother says you’ve never been good at lying and right now, you can no longer pretend like your hips aren’t dying to slide back and forth over your capture like a desperate whore.

like you don’t want to use him for more than just the floating lights, but to soothe the fire lit in your lower stomach — trailblazing down to your throbbing clit.

something clicks in your mind, all of your inhibitions are dashed from the tower as you briefly release satoru’s pathetically wet cock and restraints to pull up the skirts of your silk purple dress, exposing a slither of supple fat at your thighs. hurried movements deliver the same treatment to satoru’s pants. “this… this doesn’t change anything. doesn’t mean i’m letting you go just yet. it won’t affect our deal.” you warn the intruder but all sense of venom and authority is lost, evaporating into the temperate air and ending up as a piteous, meek mewl when your exposed mound makes first contact with man’s naked thigh.

if the sound of ruffling fabric hadn’t caught your hostage’s attention; the heat of your sopping sex against his moonlit skin definitely did. “fuck…that’s it. there we go, honey. put it on me,” a tinge of amusement lays evident in his gravelly voice, sets of slender digits peeking out of their hairy restraints to map out your doughy thighs and crawl their way up to the source of your essence. “i just knew you were wet for me, can feel how turned on you are.” as best as he can, gojo shifts until his knee is able to bump your clit — cooing in satisfaction when you ooze against him in response. you almost despise the way he laughs up at you condescendingly, as if he’s the one in control irregardless or the fact that you’re on top.

maybe it’s the dopamine rush that makes your dynamic unclear — neither of you wanting to give up or take the lead. the lust fizzing in the cracks and crevices of your brain make you cute and pliant for gojo but hair woven over his body keeps him subdued and thirsty for you.

like a gravitational pull, you buck downwards on the silver haired stranger’s toned thigh and smear the beginnings of your arousal all over him. you’ve barely been touched, oozing in viscous waves as you lose control over your body, rutting harder and faster. “watch your mouth.” you cry out, volume barely above a whisper, bottom lip trembling because it feels so good to use someone this way.

resuming your hold on his dripping cock again as you rock your hips — you rearrange the loop of hair keeping gojo in place, covering his eyes just as your hair begins to glow gold in time with your symphony of moans. “right, right, sorry. this doesn’t change things,” he flexes his thigh underneath your syrupy sex, strawberry tongue slipping out to wet his lips while your words fade away into a pretty little sigh. “but you wanna smack that messy clit all over my thigh, don’cha wanna make it creamy… even messier?” satoru all but jeers, the wisps of a smirk rising on the horizon of his lips now that your hips have formed their own rhythm over his leg.

they speed up their passionate dance on him, beads of glistening essence pearling between your two fat pussy lips. the slick smack of your naked cunt against his muscular thigh caused his dick to twitch in your hand — gojo thrusting up when you thrust down. he tilts his head down, catching a whiff of your heavenly scent in the air between you both. you hate that he’s right just as much as he hates not being able to see you and touch you properly — only catching glimpses of the golden light sparkling within your hair like a halo from underneath his makeshift blindfold.

you feel like you might be going insane, trapped underneath a non existent touch. like being pulled under waves of euphoria with aching lungs that don’t get enough air. near angelic screams of delight rip through the base of your throat contrast with the way you sinfully hump satoru and jerk him off to the point of his dick forming a creaminess in your hand. he bounces his thigh faster the higher you moan, rewarding you for all the hard work you put in to make this deal worth it.

“you’re no better… you’re filthy,”

“that’s right honey, so dirty. all cause of you. messy with you, why won’t you let me see?” the captive rambles, torn between fighting to break out of the bondage and listening to the lewd sticky noises your mound makes when gliding smoothly over his paled skin. satoru growls at how roughly your body moves above his own, face contorting lecherously, cheeks red and lips puffy — a mess from how long he’s been holding out for you. he’s a mess. it’s true. he won’t even deny it. “now fuckin’ stroke it baby, stroke me to the rhythm of your pussy bouncing up and down for me…please…”

simpering slightly, gojo’s fingers twitch against the arm of the chair — itching to grab at your ass and slam you down against his shaky thigh. if you palm him more, grip him tighter… he can better imagine the warmth of your cunt if he got the chance to slip inside. for now, you oblige his request, pulling tighter on the bindings of your hair while you them use as leverage — throwing yourself down on satoru as the lewd pap of your drooling pussy fills the musky tower air. “that’s it honey, up ‘n down. uppp ‘n down. keep goin’ just like that.”

you don’t have the energy to chide him, jostling about in satoru’s lap with wet whimpers bubbling up on the seams of your lips. pleasure begins to twist nice and tightly in your tummy, scalding you from the inside out and burning any logical thought from your brain. head beginning to roll to the side, you think about fully submitting to your capture. letting go entirely — you’d be satisfied. you’d get to cum. your deal might fall through but at least you’d get to see a different kind of light.

easily, you could just give up. it wouldn’t be hard to, not when gojo firmly plants his feet into the tiled floor and the power from his hips has hip rutting upwards to chase your fleshlight-like fist. a beefy cry battles its way out of his broad chest, vibrating through you as his quivering thigh juts your pretty, syrupy cunt every time you lift off of him.

it’s the perfect cycle; the ideal push and pull. you squeal in ecstasy, the hood of your clit dragged back so that your sensitive bundle of nerves is exposed to the blistering heat of satoru’s cool toned skin — taking you closer and closer to your high. streaks of your hair glow brighter than before, more intensely the louder you moan and just like they would if you were singing to help mother or while she brushed your hair. despite the strength in the light of your hair, everything else about you weakens, your grip on your hair, the pace of your hand as you palm satoru to the high heavens. you can’t think to care about any of it when you’re this close.

if mother could see you now, you don’t think you’d mind if she was disappointed in you.

but then you’re ripped away from the edge of cloud nine. satoru stops just short of the dam threatening to break. his thigh completely still with your juices splattering against him once your own hips come to a hault. a petulant howl echoes through the flower, frustrated tears stinging in your waterline as you feel your orgasm slip away from you cruelly. “what the fuck satoru?”

“sorry honey….” he laughs heartily, a slight rasp coating each syllable from each word that leaves his mouth. “don’t think i like this deal very much. just ‘cause you feel good doesn’t mean you can forget about me,” gesturing to the way you gush on and stain his thigh, the captive with the silver moon hair shrugs. “you don’t get to cum or see the lights unless i get to see you.”

gojo’s been good so far, hardly challenging you this whole time and instead, goading you into a world of pleasure you would have never experienced under mother’s watchful eye. instead, he was content to have his cock touched and his name wailed a hundred different ways — he’d shown no indication of breaking your deal aside from this. so in turn, you halfheartedly let go of the loop of hair that kept his sapphire stained eyes away from the world and held his wrists down to the arms of his chair. the restraints loosen just enough to please him and do what he needs to do. not enough to give him complete freedom.

“fuck the deal.” you cast it all to the side, relentlessly resuming grinding all over gojo — pushing your hips back as far as his knee to smother your swollen pleasure against it.

this time, satoru is able witness the way your bambi doe eyes roll back into your emptying skull.

with newfound motivation, the intruder begins quickly blinking away any darkness that caused a fuzz at the edge of his vision, gojo’s gaze immediately trickles down to your clenching hole, a treasure kept safe between your nectar glossed thighs; watching you ride him. “god, if i had my hands on you i’d rub that clit until you were squirting… i bet you’d like that, if i ruined that pussy. made her mine — you'd like that.” gojo’s stare returns to your eyes, flashing you his pearly whites through a condescending smile. his rushed and rambled teasing words make your creamy cunt wetter; body betraying you to violently shake above him.

though you find strength to keep up your end of the bargain. you’d sworn to make satoru see stars, encapsulating his rigid, sloppy dick between your nimble fingers once more. you even spit on it, earning a haughty bleat from between the man’s pretty (yet chatty) mouth. his sturdy body seizes underneath your touch as you take a firmer grip on him, palming him faster and faster — seedy, hot precum webbing over your knuckles once more. that’s when you finally get to see it. how murky and dark your captive’s vibrant eyes grow, like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

the rapture that had once melted away from you like butter in a pan begins to blossom within you once again — willing you to beg for a chance at a real orgasm. “yes satoru! oh, yes please!” you squeak, short of breath and not entirely sure or what you’re even begging for. the golden light emitting from strands of your hair flare up again and your pussy throbs with an aching need to hit release. “please…”

a self congratulatory thread of cobalt lust weaves its way between the darkening midnight flecks in this eyes. “now look who’s begging,” clicking his tongue, gojo cocks his head to the side, relishing in his ability to finally look at you. drink in the way your chest bounces beneath the bodice of your lace orchid gown. it’s completely fucked, darkened by a crude mix of your arousals but it’s the most beautiful thing satoru has ever seen — only serving to rial him up even more… his own orgasm coming up over the hill. it burns at his internal organs, the lining of his stomach and the only way to alleviate this almost painful yet delectable twinge to his system is through you. “bet you’re only being nice ‘cause you’re close. well guess what? me too, be a good girl, honey, and cum for me.” he says, voice rising in both pitch and breathiness through his gritted teeth.

he’s going to cum.

and you’re too far gone to form a response with words just yet. you stop your own ministrations, payback for edging you earlier. his own cock dribbles pitifully as you rip his high away from him like pulling a rug from beneath his feet. gojo thrashes in his hair in response, azure eyes wild and almost wet with a sheen of tears — just as desperate to cum ad you are. “wh-what the fuck was that for?” he winges as though he’s a child on punishment, slender hips rising up to chase your soiled hand and perfect grip — shaft standing needily at attention. “honey…”

“you don’t get to cum until i get to cum. so either you work with me, satoru, or we’ll go all day.” you snap, slowly working your drenched cunt over the meat of his thigh once again, your puffy folds spread either side of it — squelching with the way you salaciously wind your hips all over him.

satoru basks in the sight, tongue poking out tauntingly between his teeth as he decides to test the waters. “fine, but at least let me help,” he suggests, watching eagerly as you throw your head back in the purest form of pleasure and grind on him harder. it’s clear as day that you need just as much of a push to cum as he does and he plans on giving it to you in just one condition. “untie me.”

“deal.” chewing on your lower lip, you let more of your hair unwind your glowing hair from all points that keep gojo strapped to the chair. enough for more of his hands to escape. then, he’s on you within a flash, hot tongue swirling its way over your clothed bosom and biting at your peaked nipples while his hands shoot to the globes of your ass so that he can drag you in harsh circles across his lap. he’s ravenous, out of control, as if he’s been waiting for this moment the entire time.

somewhere along the way, in one final burst of passion, your mouths find each other again — swapping streams of saliva as you lose yourselves to sex crazed minds teaming with lust hormones. with your lips smacking and bodies moving against each other in a delicious bump and grind — satoru forces a large hand between you both, fumbling against your cotton panties. the sound he lets out when he finally, finally gets his hands on your puffy clit is glutoral and animalistic, the simple touch sending a shock wave of electricity across every one of your synapses. dazing you for good.

you bear witness to the silver haired stranger losing his mind, falling from grace like an angel with blackened wings. and for you, he does the same, commiting the sight of your glowing halo-like strands of hair to memory — the coils that shine brighter the more you sing and sin for him.

he can’t stop gabbling, gargling on the spit you pour into one another — followed by howls and screams of pleasure. “oh you like that, hm? i bet that feels so good… so sweet ‘n wet under my touch.” hot fingers belonging to satoru pick up the pace between your sticky folds, flicking your clit feverishly and writing his claim against your cunt at the same time that you jam a thumb into the tricking slit of his dirty red cockhead. the pair of you jolt in one another’s arms, taking one too many steps towards the edge of cloud nine before you’re even ready for you.

“oh sweetheart, listen to you, sound so good. wish i could have you on my fat cock instead of my thigh. next time yeah? you’re gonna cum like this, aren’t you? gonna get my thigh nice and wet?” gojo growls, voice hoarse and layering perfectly over your whistle tone whines. his digits slow and start their greedy assault on your sex, edging you further and further as you wriggle and writhe at his words.

the world escapes you, the knot of lust that had been warping within you finally coming undone. “gods… s-satoru! please!” you shriek as though your voice is a gust of stormy wind — reverberating off of painted cobblestone walls. your free hand (no longer trapped by loops of your own hair) darts out to grab the intruder’s wrist, thighs locking around the hand that works you through an earth shattering high. the dam finally bursts, forcing open floodgates as your pussy releases streams of clear arousal in small spurts that soaks his entire lap and clothes.

gojo has no idea where to look, the smallest glimpse of your orgasm sending him hurtling over the edge as well — he doesn’t relent, viciously circling your precious pleasure mug and drawing out your release to match his own. his thick length spasms in your tiny hand, plump balls no longer able to contain the viscous, hot seed he has saved up all for you. just for you. he cums with a shout, abdomen contracting under your never-ending supple touch, ropes of white hot endlessly shoot from his overstimulated tip almost as though he’s a faucet that’s never been turned off.

he swears he almost blacks out, a white and sweaty mop of hair collapsing onto your shoulder as you slump in gojo’s lap — exhausted. as the air in the room cools, your hair no longer glowing and your chests syncing up to heave in an even rise and fall — you bring a lazy hand to the back of satoru’s head, toying with coils of his baby hair to help you both calm down.

a moment of quiet passes before you find the energy to whisper. “will you take me to see those floating lights now?”

your innocent question causes satoru to snort sleepily, pressing a wet chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek as the sound breaks free from his cherry-bitten lips. “a deal’s a deal, honey. as soon as you untie me… we’ll hit the road.”

neither of you move a muscle, however, still recovering from the sinful act you had just shared.

you use the time to reflect, a sense of excitement dawning on you. you were going to leave the tower. you were going to see the floating lights on your birthday. and most importantly, you were directly disobeying your mother to prove your capableness. and all you had to do to get your fairytale happy ending was give a handjob to a very handsome, very willing stranger.

the end.

#✐ᝰ KINKTOBER ‘24 #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jjk thirsts #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #gojo thirst

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eraenaa · 6 months ago

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Virginal Whore

Aemond Targaryen x Celtigar Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Prince Aemond sets out to find a whore to warm his bed; he finds a virgin instead.

Warnings: Dub-Con, Oral Sex (f receiving), Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 3,345

Sequel: Prince's Whore

Strife, suffering, and sorrow are all the Prince now feel— perhaps even then. He could no longer stomach the tolls of the war that was reigning havoc on the lands of Westeros. He sought a moment of reprieve, solace in the arms of a lover that he could take into his bed. Harrenhall was bent to his will; everyone was taken and at his mercy. He had women in his grasp, serving girls and some highborn ladies, even a bastard of House Strong, yet as comely and shapely as they were, none were able to stir the need brewing deep inside him. He could not find the want to take them into his bed and warm his cock.

He was, for a moment, entranced by a witch who held the name Rivers. The sorceress tried to seduce him with her lingering glances and mysterious presence, and he was ready to give in, to take her to his bed, but he had caught her placing her spell upon him. Slipping a vial of an unknown substance into his wine, Aemond could not tolerate such acts. He invited her into his chambers, luring her in with the pretense that he had succumbed to her charms, and as she sank to her knees before him, his cock in her mouth, and he was on the verge of spilling his seed in her throat, he took a dagger and slit her throat— him coming undone as her lifeless body fell and her blood pooled onto the floor.

That sufficed the need in Aemond for a short moment, but just a few days later, he found himself in want of release again— something that would quench the ache in his loins and the fire in his veins. Not just a mouth around his cock but a cunt as well.

He blended into the night and reached town; slipping into a whore house, he heard a few of the soldiers muttering about. When he entered the establishment, nothing of note came into view. It was the same as any houses of pleasure he had stumbled upon during the night. He was in desperate need of company. Scattered around him were the perfumed bodies that masked the smell of vile scents wafted about the room. His eye searched for something that could possibly sedate his raging cock.

He peeled away his hood, uncaring that the whores and their patrons could see his silvery locks; surely they have more pleasing matters to attend to rather than his presence. As he announced himself, he was quickly approached by a rather well-dressed man who he supposed was the owner. “My prince, welcome… you honor us with your presence.” He bowed lowly, and Aemond simply scanned his eye about the room once more. Without another word, the owner snapped his finger, and Aemond saw some workers hastily running across the establishment, surely readying themselves for him.

Aemond was led deeper into the den of depravity and into a secluded room where a bed waited along with a line of whores on their knees, waiting for the prince to take his pick. Aemond still paid no mind to the owner as he tried to sell the girls. Aemond assessed each one of them, presenting him with their seductive gazes and trying to allure them with their smiles, pushing together their breasts in the hope that would press even further desire into the prince.

He sneered as he almost finished assessing the lines of girls, ready to demand the owner to present him with a new batch, but his gaze was then caught by a cowering figure. Her eyes were planted on the floor, and she had used her long, flowing hair to cover her body, trying to display at least one ounce of modesty.

Aemond strayed closer to you, his curiosity peaking. When the owner’s gaze noticed the prince had focused on you, he quickly stood by your side, who was kneeling at the end of the line. “A newcomer, my prince,” He said and forcefully yanked the back of your head in order to raise your face so the prince could see your features. “I think you would like her, my prince… the prettiest one we have.”

Aemond said no word nor made any reaction, only studying the way your lips quivered and your eyes pooled with tears as you tried to avoid his gaze. “If her face does not please you enough, I am inclined to tell you that she is a highborn lady snatched away from her traitorous lord father’s care at the start of the war,” He added in pride. It was most beneficial for his business to have an asset such as yourself. Pretty, filled with youth, and had the blood of nobles coursing through your veins.

Aemond blinked as he felt his cock strain further into his trousers. You were certainly far from his usual type, but only you had stirred such a need in him that he had not felt in many moons. “And if that still isn’t enough to please you, your highness… I shall as well inform you that she is a virgin. Untouched by any man… but I do warn you that may not be the case in a short while.” The owner heinously laughed. Aemond did not know how to take such facts. He was accustomed to experienced hands bringing him pleasure and comfort… but there was just something in your innocence that he found wholly more appealing.

He turned to the owner and gave a nod. You breathed sharply as the room quickly emptied out, leaving you alone in the presence of a cruel prince. You were still on your knees, and your gaze quickly panted themselves on the floor once more. Aemond placed his hood by a chair and assessed your trembling frame that still knelt on the cold floor. “What house do you come from?” He questioned and brought a chalice already filled with wine to his lips. He drank two sips from it, but you still have not answered his query. “Speak, girl. Are you a mute?” He questioned, stepping before you. “N— no… my prince,” You say, ever so silently. He reached to grab your face in his hands, his fingers squeezing your soft cheeks together, a horrified expression screaming in your eyes.

“What traitorous house do you come from?” He almost spat. “House… House C—Celtigar, your Highness,” You almost cried, and Aemond was silently surprised. The blood that coursed through your veins was not from any plain noble house; the blood in your veins was the blood of Old Valyria. “Hm,” Aemond hummed as his fingers that held your cheeks savored the way your soft flesh felt. “And how have they taken you?” He questioned and raised the cup of wine to his lips once more, waiting for your answer.

“I was to be sent to Essos, but they— they commandeered the ship and slain the captain, and I was— was sold off from one man to another.” You explained, your hands clenching at the sheer fabric they made you wear, the material so thin that it did nothing to hide your body.

You boldly raised your gaze at the prince, hoping to find at least one speck of empathy in his lone eye, but you paled further as you saw a sinister smirk rise to his lips. How fortunate was Aemond to stumbled to the whorehouse at this moment, having the pick of the litter. An overly pretty, untouched noblewoman is now kneeling before him; the gods seem to take pity on his needing state that had plagued him for moons that had left him restless and irritated. “Stand,” he commanded and finally let go of his hold on your cheeks. Watching as you slowly and wobbly obeyed and stood on your feet.

He raked his eye upon your body, from your pretty face to the apex of your neck to your breast that hid behind the curtain of your hair. His gaze continued to travel downward from the curves of your hips and waist to your sex that was hidden by a dark shadow and to your plush thighs— as he saw the limbs of lavish flesh, a deeper sense of lust overcame him. He placed the chalice down and stepped closer to you. Aemond’s smirk widened as he heard a whimper leave your lips and your eyes tightly closed as he tore away the sheer fabric they made you wear.

He threaded closer and brushed away the hair that covered your frame, feeling you shiver beneath his touch as his hand trailed to the small of your waist, then upward to your ample tit, your nipple pebbling beneath his cold and calloused touch. He lowered his head and placed it in the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent that was not riddled with the generic perfume that they bathed the whores with. Compared to them— you were a breath of fresh air.

You gasped and turned stiff as the prince, without warning, pushed you upon the silk-covered bed. You cowered towards the headboard, petrified at the sinister smirk on the prince’s lip, completely enjoying your fear. “I must admit… I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” He said lowly as he took off his tunic, and you looked away as you felt your cheeks heat. “I’ve always preferred my women to be ones with experience… but there is, I suppose, something appealing in being the one first to taint a maiden— perhaps that is why my brother could smell them from a mile away,” Aemond said, a bit amused as he now realized the reason for his brother’s preference of seeking out virgins to be brought to his bed.

Aemond undid his trousers, standing bare before you as you curled into a ball at the head of the bed. Aemond relished in your cry for help as he pulled you toward the edge of the bed— thrashing upon his hold. You feel your tears slip from your eyes as the prince spreads your legs, and your cunt is fully exposed before him. You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt his breath fanning your folds, assessing you. Aemond bore witness to the truth that you truly were a virgin, your maidenhead still intact and just waiting for him to be ruined.

He thought about how to proceed; usually, he would have a maiden on their knees or on her stomach and take her from behind— no tenderness or foreplay, simply taking what he wanted and be done with all the bother. But somehow, your cunt was calling for his lips. He never found the appeal of it, feasting on a cunt that had been used and abused by differing men, sullying himself with the taste of other men on the body of a woman. However, you were untouched, and Aemond indulged himself with an act he was rather more curious about.

You froze as you felt the prince’s fingers trace along the slit of your cunt, the sensation new and disturbing as no one had ever touched you in such a place before. You felt his hand press your fold together, his eye on every movement you made. Aemond marveled at your cunt, never truly assessing one before— he never thought a cunt could be so… captivating. When he ran his fingers in the middle of your slit again, he chuckled darkly as he felt wetness gathering in them; despite your reluctance and defiance, your cunt was begging to be touched. Aemond’s mouth salivated at the thought.

A gasp left your lips, and you tried to close your legs as you felt the prince’s tongue replace his finger and lick a clean stripe in the middle of your folds. Aemond could not help but moan at the taste of you, tart and sweet, and he began to wonder if this was how his depravity would begin, with a taste of a virginal whore.

You bit your tongue as you felt his lips latch on the sensitive pearl, his tongue darting out and licking you further, teasing your hole and bringing further wetness. “Stop acting so demure and coy; you enjoy this, do you not, my lady?” He menacingly said against you, refusing to let his lips stray away from the sweet nectar of your womanhood.

You shook your head and felt your tears fall further, but any denial you do did nothing to stop the arousal dripping from your cunt. Aemond chuckled and used his tongue to tease you further, slipping it into the void of pleasure.

You finally let out a moan, one that was unexpected, and you felt shame as you found pleasure in such actions. That spurred further determination in the prince, darting his tongue in and out of you, his fingers sinking into your plush thighs as he, too, was overwhelmed by the pleasure of feasting on your cunt. Your sensitive pearl rubbed itself against the high bridge of his nose, your blood alight, your skin glimmering with a thin sheet of sweat, and your body ready to succumb to pleasure. Aemond felt it too, that you were close to what he concluded to be the first climax of your life, your body agitated and uncertain, your moans wry and held fear. He was debating if he should let you come undone now or wait when until his cock was buried deep inside your cunt. He was straying towards the latter, but as the thought of tasting you further infiltrated his mind, the prince obliged you to reach your peak and taste your orgasm. Your uncertain moans turned loud and sure, and your hands instinctively clutched the silver locks of the prince’s hair as you came undone by his tongue.

Aemond hummed in content, feeling his cock weeping at the taste of you. “I’ve never thought a cunt could taste so delectable,” He mused and planted his weight on his knees, staring down at your bare, flushed body and your face that was still trying to comprehend your first taste of pleasure.

The prince did not give you much time to grasp what had happened as his rough hands found home on your waist, and his cock was aligned against your dripping entrance. Your pleasured-clad face morphed into one of pain as you felt his length penetrating your undefiled hole. It was mean and sadistic, but Aemond found pleasure in taking away your innocence. He was filled with further satisfaction as he glanced down and saw how his cock was tainted with red, your maidenhead taken by him.

“What lord will have you now, my lady? Now that you’re the prince’s whore?” He grunted as his cock was fully sheathed inside you, the tip of it brushing a spot he knew all too well. “Are those tears of pain or pleasure?” Aemond taunted as he bent down closer to your face, his fingers brushing away the salty water that spilled from your eyes. “If it is the former, I will try not to take it as an offense. There are worst fates than being my whore, my lady— just ask the girls that served my brother,” He smirked and kissed away your tears, his lips straying further to yours.

He never found much pleasure in the act; he would only sometimes oblige the old madame in his once-favored whorehouse with the act because she seemed quite keen on it, but he never liked the way she tasted on his tongue after. But you, gods, was it too much if he would say that just one taste of you has had him on the verge of addiction?

You took in sharp breaths of pain as the prince thrust into you; he was kind enough to slow down his movements, letting you accustom yourself to his length, but by the second, Aemond was growing impatient. His moves started to move at a faster, almost violent pace, ignoring your cries of pain as he was certain they would soon turn into cries of pleasure. He had never had a cunt as tight as yours before; he had never truly paid enough attention to every fluter, every clench, every movement of the woman he was fucking, but now he could not help but focus on anything that you did underneath him.

He savored every moan and sigh that left your lips, every line on your furrowed brows, every scratch of your nail on his back as you felt his length rutting inside you. Aemond let out a groan as the moons of need started to overwhelm him. He was close to the peak he desperately sought, but he was genteel enough to coax one out of you first; you were a noble lady; after all, it would be terribly rude of him to leave you need and unsatisfied.

Aemond straightened his back and felt his cock twitch as he saw the site of you laid before him, your legs on his shoulder, his fingers sinking on your soft thighs, and your tits bouncing at his every thrust. You watched through hazy and pleasured-filled eyes as the prince licked his thumb and placed it flat against your nubbin, and his other hand pressed down on your lower stomach and spurred you further into pleasure. Your lips spewed out his name as you came undone, and the prince was quick to follow you. Filling your cunt with his seed, and finally, Aemond felt relief and satisfaction over him.

The prince panted heavily as he tried to regain his thoughts; he removed his length from your cunt and felt a lazy grin come to his lips as he saw the essence of both of you spill from your hole. Through your haze, you did not expect the prince to dip down and capture your lips into a kiss once again; tongue sought entrance, and you could not find it in yourself to deny him.

Both of you panted as your lips parted. You stared into the unique lilac eye of the Targaryen prince and were soon overcome with the implications of what had just happened. Your cheeks further turned red as you avoided his gaze once more, ashamed at how you relished and had enjoyed being defiled by him.

Aemond smirked and collapsed atop of you, savoring the feel of your intertwined bodies for a moment. You just lay there beneath him, and somehow, that was enough for him. But as he felt your hands wrap around him and your hand went to comb through his hair, he let out a further satisfied sigh at the feeling of comfort he never thought he could find in another.

It did not take long before Aemond had drifted into slumber. The cacophony of his release, fatigue, and you lulled him into a deep yet quick slumber. When he woke, he found you asleep beath him as well, looking so peaceful with your tear-stained cheeks and plush parted lips. Aemond delicately removed himself from you and silently walked out of the room.

When you woke, you found a pouch filled with coins by your side and the distant sound of moans and footsteps approaching. You raised the sheet of the bed to cover your naked frame as the curtain was lifted, revealing the silver prince. You stared in confusion as he tossed the dress you wore when you were abducted on the bed. “Get dressed,” You could only stare at him in further confusion, your limbs refusing to move.

Aemond smirked as the fear returned in your eyes. He was halfway through his return to Harrenhall, but the thought of you haunted him. He finally found the release he sought, and it would be foolish of him to let it wander free. Aemond was a selfish man. He could not oblige the others and let them have a taste of the pleasure that only you could present.

“Get dressed. I have brought you from your master. You’re all mine now, my lady.”

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obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months ago

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That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena

Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 765

(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)

You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.

What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.

Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human.

They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.

Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.

Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?

You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like.

On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.

You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety.

Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it.

It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!

From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away.

Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off.

Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you.

Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.

That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x gn reader #my ocs #My OC Brakwen #yandere exo #yandere exophilia

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teojira · 4 months ago

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[Dance with The Devil] [movie!Shadow x reader headcanons]

Summary: a collection of random headcanons/small scenarios based on my "Click Click Boom" post for Shadow!

Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer (1): Harkness scale people, he is of age and can consent and is sentient. I'm allowed to want to kiss the hedgehog.

Disclaimer (2): This can be read as Romantic or Platonic! Though I did write it to be implied romance.

A/N: Yall asked for more, who am I to deny the people (I imagine kissing him every second of the day). I tried to hit a lot of asks all in one to give eveyrone what they asked for! I hope y'all enjoy! Reblogs and comments are super appreciated and motivate me to write more <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow is so extremely overprotective of you, borderline to an unhealthy agree but is it really when you're welcoming to it??

You, by all means, shouldn't encourage him. He's one of the strongest beings on the planet. He can't just make threats, God knows if he'll act out on them.

You can't help but let it happen though, a warm fuzzy feeling deep in your chest clouds your judgment for a few moments. Knowing that Shadow sees you as someone worth protecting, of caring for.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow baring his fangs at Sonic and fucking growling is new though.

"Shadow did you just- did you just fucking growl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sonic was just trying to hug me dude, relax.'

"He'll get his scent all over you. No."

Shadow turns his back on you, so he misses the blush that overtakes your entire face.

He has an inkling though, if the strangled cry from your throat is any indication.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Riding ! With ! Him !!! He takes you on drives all the time, it helps him clear his head and it's his way of asking for physical contact without giving you idea, feeling you against his back and your body pressed up against his does wonder for his mental health, he'll purposefully take longer routes and side roads at night to keep you close.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

If you fall asleep on the couch, Shadow isn't gonna curl up with you, but he's next to the couch, head propped up against the arm rest as he watches over you. He's well aware he could just teleport you both to your room, but you look too peaceful :( and he knows he takes up all your time and energy, so he rather let you rest.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow always walks behind you. It's a nervous habit. If he wanders behind, he has the perfect view to scan for threats.

You go to tell him he's being paranoid, but stop yourself. The last person he cared for died, the girl who gave him a purpose. You shut your joke down fast, shaking your head when Shadow raises an eye bridge at your expression.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" You go with that instead.

"Absolutely not."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Please god can you imagine shopping for him, getting his leather jackets and what not bc he fucking deserves it, especially when you nervously claim that he needs the correct gear for riding his motorcycle and he hits you with:

"That's useless, I can easily chaos control if need be."

BUT HE DOESN'T RIDE WITHOUT IT EVER !!!! You even got it monogrammed, and he runs his thumb across it often, scoffing at himself when he realizes, snatching his hand away.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow likes to be useful, even though you tell him again and again that he doesn't owe you anything, he doesn't listen.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

If you wear makeup and ever fall asleep in it, you can't ever seem to remember if it was you who took it off, your memories jumbling up together to the point you're not sure.

It was Shadow, he knows you don't like showing others your bare face, which he thinks is ridiculous as shit, he likes you as you are, whether with makeup or bare, you're you.

Please I could cry imagining him so gently taking a makeup wipe and rubbing small circles to get that waterproof eyeliner off of you, eyes laser focused into his task. I'm gonna throw up.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

In the colder months, he's susceptible to being more mellow and relaxed. Despite being the ultimate life form and having fur, he still gets cold and hates the feeling.

This brings me to the fact that bro steals your blankets, he has no remorse and will walk right into your room to take your heated blanket. He's an asshole.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Fully believes that nicknames are stupid and that they don't matter, the best he's gonna do for you is call you by your first Intial (ex: Teddy = T) It's rare that he'll do call you by it regardless, but beggers cannot be choosers.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Getting matching bangles to match his inhibitor rings!! Makes him go stupid for a second, brain computing that oh??? You want to match him?? He's gonna tease you, but when you threaten to just take them off, he immediately goes quiet.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The subject of being sick came up often in asks, and he struggles really hard with it. It's not obvious, but if you look closely, his quills are pin straight, and he's easily more agitated.

He's not mad at you, it's not your fault, it's just that seeing you curl up into bed brings back so many bad memories of when Maria has flare ups and couldn't leave her bed.

It made him feel useless. His whole reason for being was to help cure illness, maybe not the common cold. He's aware of that, but the point remains.

Shadow gets more docile, even going to ask Maddie what to do. The woman offers to come over and take care of you instead, but Shadow shuts her down quickly. He's more than capable, and he's a little overprotective.

"Are you sure? I don't mind, I don't have anything going on."

"That isn't necessary."

"But it might be better if it's m-"

"I can take care of them."

It's hard to argue with a 5ft hedgehog that can easily snap your neck, so she regents and hands him over some cold and flu medicine along with painkillers and vaporub and instructions. He looks so silly with all of it in his arms, Gatorade, water, the medicine, some food, but it warms your heart. You haven't had anyone really look after you when you were sick, always left to fend for yourself, so it's nice.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

For my period havers, I am on mine, so this made it in:

Shadow using his hands as personal heating pads for your stomach or the small of your back, you can't seem to remember where you put your heating pad so he sits there with you and just, shoves his hand onto your skin, it's added comfort due to his fur.

"Oh my god, that feels good."

You groan into your pillow, curling up into a ball, your back facing the ultimate lifeform.

"Is it really that bad?"

Shadow hums, moving to ever so slightly knead the skin, smirking to himself when you damn near moan at the feeling.

"You know damn fucking well it's that bad."

Shadow snorts.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Once you're both closer, he allows you to touch him alot more, so long as you ask him first if you can run your fingers over his quills, he finds it soothing, it's common to find you both on the couch, fast asleep together with the TV set to come true crime YouTube video.

Sonic takes a million pictures, to which he sends to Shadow later. The black hedgehog doesn't say anything, but he secretly saves each one.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Speaking of the others, you try and force him to spend time with team Sonic to varying degrees of success. Mainly the success being if you will also be there and be by his side. The team likes you well enough, always playfully telling you that they can handle Shadow if he ever hurts you.

Which gets them Shadow staring them down, his eyes lighting up as a warning.

You'd think they'd learn that this man doesn't play when it comes to you, but they're a bit stupid.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

When it comes to any insecurities you may have, he shuts that shit down IMMEDIATELY, you think it's because he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, but no, it's because he cares about you and will logically tell you facts. Does it help? It's varying, but he still tries.

Issue with your weight. He doesn't care. Are you healthy? That's all that matters. He's strong enough to lift you up, and he'll demonstrate it on you if need be. He doesn't know who put it into your head that there's any issue with it, but he'll fix it.

"Shadow, can I ask you something?"

"Go on."

"Does my weight ever bother you?"

"I am not like human men."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You're insecure about talking about your interests/hyperfixations? He actively will sit down and listen, eyes intense as he takes in every single word you're saying. He'll nod and hum, but his ears are flicked towards you, and Shadow will ask questions pertaining about the characters.

The motherfucker is healing you slowly but surely, mentally and sometimes physically.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

No one thinks that Shadow would be a good companion and will make jokes offhandily that they're sorry that YOU'RE stuck with him, and you don't correct them. They don't deserve to know him.

They don't get to know how the lifeform curls up next to you on his bad days, seeking your affection.

The hedgehog who helps you dry the dishes after every meal with a way too focused look on his face.

The Shadow that always cracks dry ass jokes in hopes to make you smile after a long day.

It's your little secret, and it's one you gladly keep to yourself.

"Oh, he's stuck with me." You wave them off with a smug smirk on your face.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#teddy loves shadow ☆#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog #sonic 3 #sonic 3 x reader #sega #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #shadow #sonic the hedgehog x reader

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earthtooz · 1 year ago

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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.

quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc

there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.

it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there.

for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.

you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first.

as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away.

“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”

“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham.

“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.”

shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.

not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.

there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere.

“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”

his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.

“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”

“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.

as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.

with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too.

#vibe check kinda fic for him #the way i am literally seething biting my hand and lips to try and not let the end escalate #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader

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prythianpages · 6 months ago

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But the Worms | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch | Azriel is woken up by your daughter in the middle of the night to answer some of her questions.

warnings: fluff, dad Az

word count: 943

a/n: Just a short little fic that can be read as a stand alone. This was inspired by a scene from Bob's Burgers lol.

Rain pattered against the window steadily, accompanied by the distant rumble of thunder. Every so often, the sky would flare with a jagged streak of lightning, briefly illuminating the room with a cold, blue light before plunging it back into shadow. The storm was a familiar, comforting backdrop to Azriel’s slumber.

But his shadows, ever vigilant, stirred with a whisper of unease.

Azriel’s eyes fluttered open, drawn by the shift in his shadows. That’s when he heard them. The faint, hurried sound of small footsteps. His shadows fluttered toward the door as they sensed the hesitant shuffle against the wooden floor.

He didn't need his shadows to tell him who was on the other side. Had it been his first born, he'd never hear the steps as she loved to sneak up on him,. The door would've been open abruptly with no hesitation whatsoever but it's been years since she last had a nightmare. A nightmare she didn't welcome, at least.

That was not the case tonight. It was his second-born. Sweet little Alora, who, true to her name, should be dreaming of unicorns and rainbows as she loved to recount to him every morning, rather than being awake.

His gaze flickered to you. While Azriel was a light sleeper, you were a heavy sleeper and truth be told, you were sound asleep, back turned toward him. A shadow tenderly caressed your back before he shifted his attention back to the door. He was already sitting up in the bed, blinking away the sleep or at least trying when the door opened quietly, muted with the help of his shadows.

Alora stood at the door. Her hair, the exact shade of yours, was disheveled, the bangs she cut herself last week splayed over her forehead awkwardly. A rite of passage, you had called it, reminding him that your first born had done the same.

Her eyes, the exact shade of his, were wide and glistening, and there was a pout on her face.

Azriel’s chest tightened at the sight, wanting nothing more than to soothe whatever troubled her, despite his fatigue. He extended his arms out, and Alora ran right into them, her small frame immediately enveloped by his.

Cradling her to his chest, he pushed her bangs back and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

“No. I haven’t slept at all,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Azriel frowned, glancing at the clock. It was well past midnight, and his eyes were begging for sleep, lulled by the rain falling outside. “Is it the storm?”

Alora placed her hands on his chest, pushing herself up slightly. She spared a glance to your sleeping form before leaning in closer to her father, careful not to wake you with her voice. Though, Azriel doubted you'd wake at all.

Her hazel eyes, so innocent and pure, stared into his own. “Do you think worms have dreams too?”

Azriel's heart softened further. Her worries were so small, so wonderfully trivial compared to the burdens he had carried as a child.

“I’m sure they dream,” he murmured, gently pulling his daughter's head back to his chest, wishing for her to always have such simple worries. He also hoped she’d be content with his answer and finally drift off to sleep herself.

“But what do they dream?”

“The same things you do.” He replied, trying to stifle a yawn. He snuck a glance at you, still oblivious to your daughter’s insatiable curiosity.

“Do they get nightmares too?”

Azriel fought back his groan. He loved his daughters deeply and strongly. He would go through all ends of the world for them. Any other time, he would entertain this conversation fully, but it was late, and Alora should be fast asleep like her sister.

“Mel says worms come out when it storms so that we don’t hear their cries.”

Speak of the little devil herself. Mel was sure to get an earful from him. Tomorrow morning, or rather, in a couple of hours. Azriel took a deep breath, trying to muster the energy to explain, his body aching for rest.

Azriel could hear the thoughts swirling through her mind as she continued. “Why would they cry? Is it because of the bad dreams?”

“Don’t listen to your sister,” he said gently, running a hand through Alora’s tousled hair.

“But you told me to listen to her yesterday morning.”

“I did,” Azriel replied with a slight grimace, regretting that decision immensely at this very moment. Granted, he had said that after Mel told Lor to stop riling up Sprinkles, her pet scorpion. “But that’s different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” he said, his voice a mix of patience and weariness.

“But the worms–”

“The worms don’t have nightmares and they come out during storms because they love the rain. Now, go to sleep. Please.”

Alora let out a small gasp, her hand losing its tension against his chest. “You promise?”

“Yes.” Azriel replied quickly, not certain what exactly he was promising. He'd deal with it later.

“Okay.”

When he finally felt her body relax in his arms, he let out a breath of relief. He held her tighter in his arms, shifting them to face in your direction before settling Alora between you both. He didn’t have the energy to take her back to her bed.

He gladly gave in to the heaviness of his eyelids, his eyes closing shut and ready to embrace sleep under the comfort of the rain once more--

"Daddy?"

He didn't bother opening his eyes. "Yes?"

"I love you."

His lips tugged up into a smile. "I love you too, my sweets."

Alora snuggled closer to him, tiny hands grasping onto his larger one and placing it over her face. She always found comfort in his touch, despite the scars that marred his hands. It was something that never failed to make his chest swell with warmth. Along with the way both his daughters always looked up to him, eyes full of affection and admiration.

His thumb caressed her cheek, soothing her as his shadows settled back into their corner of the room, curling into the bed Alora had gotten them for Solstice this year.

For centuries, his shadows had slept among other shadows, usually underneath the bed or in the corners of rooms. But Alora had felt bad for them one night, and when shopping for Solstice this year, she had asked you to take her to the pet store and picked out the softest bed for Azriel’s shadows.

Though his shadows had never complained or shown any interest in comfier sleeping habits, they had vibrated with excitement at the sight of the gift. Now, they slept there every night, happy and content, snuggling amongst one another and curling into a ball.

As his thoughts began to blur and drift, the world around him softened, the edges of his awareness becoming fuzzy and indistinct. Now that he knew your daughter was okay and her curiosity satiated, he could go back to sleep.

His breathing slowed, deep and even, matching the gentle rise and fall of your own breath. Just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep–

“Daddy?”

He could barely manage a grunt in response.

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

Oh, this was definitely your daughter.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel drabble #az!dandelions #azriel x witch reader

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

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(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them

A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show

Aaron Hotchner

Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through.

If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.

It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest.

He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes.

However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’.

However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him.

In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain.

He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death.

David Rossi

Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.

“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?”

It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close.

He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded.

If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it.

“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.”

He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up.

He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force.

Derek Morgan

This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is.

He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened.

If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance.

However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat.

He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you.

“Only the best for you, hot stuff.”

He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him.

Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it.

Emily Prentiss

She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public.

She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do.

However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this.

She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her.

She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable.

She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected.

After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it.

JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it.

She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest.

JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.

She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir.

“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”

If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed.

However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.

Penelope Garcia

This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly.

“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”

She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment.

They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.

She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home.

If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you.

They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building.

“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.”

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him.

He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep.

At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing.

However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case.

In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him.

He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in.

He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby.

Masterlist

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #criminal minds #BAU #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #david rossi x reader #david rossi #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #penelope garcia x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #hotch x reader

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ayyy-pee · 6 months ago

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𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕀𝕥 𝕊𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Tomioka Giyuu x Female Reader

Summary: Will he survive this war?

Will you be alright without him?

Will you be lonely if he never returns?

And arguably, the most important question – will his line end with him?

The clock is ticking and who knows if he will ever make it back to you.

He’d never given much thought to children, but Giyuu had also never given much thought to marriage before he’d met you.

Giyuu and reader get to work on making a baby.

Story Warning: BREEDING KINK GIYUU, LACTATION KINK GIYUU, Smut, Giyu and reader are secretly married, P in V sex, Profanity like yall should know, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Giyuu is a munch, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Creampies, Mating Press, Freaky ass Giyuu fr

Art by: michi_ia (Twitter)

A/N: This was a request from one of my amazing readers! This one shot takes place in the same universe as Hidden Affairs (Sanemi x Reader fic!) They can both be read as standalones as they involve different readers! Hope you enjoy!

It’s eerily quiet tonight. Just as it’s been for the past several weeks. A storm is brewing, slowly but surely. Giyuu feels it, they all feel it. It’s like a simmer just under the surface, waiting to boil over at any moment. That’s why all of them were called to Ubuyashiki mansion. The plan has been set in motion and Giyuu knows what his role now is.

But will he make it back alive?

That’s the question that plagues his mind at this very second as he approaches his home. He can see the dim candle lighting illuminating the space through the windows and he knows he won’t be alone once he’s inside. No, he’ll be able to see you. And it’s all he’s been looking forward to since he stepped foot on the mansion grounds.

“I’m home,” Giyuu murmurs as he slips out of his haori. He lays it carefully on the table beside the front door.

“Welcome back, my love,” your voice floats through the air like a song, calling him to you. You’re in the bedroom and when Giyuu enters, he sees you’re already snuggled into the futon on the tatami, clearly ready for bed. “How was the meeting?”

Giyuu sighs, crossing the space and falling to his knees at your bedside. He leans forward and kisses you softly, reveling in the way that you, as always, can melt away his worries with just your skin on his. “It’s…” He debates on telling you the truth. That it’s not looking good. That he and the other Hashira, the Master, are all in imminent danger and that it’s likely to come soon. But as he watches you, so sweet and caring, he knows he can’t lie to you. “I’ll have to leave…to be close. He will come soon.”

He, being Muzan. Though Giyuu doesn’t dare speak his name in his home.

“I see…”

You recover quickly, but Giyuu has already seen it. The sadness and concern that flashes across your features. He feels guilty that he’s the cause.

“And the others?” You question, trying to change the subject. You know Giyuu hates talking about matters like this with you. You dislike it as well. Because he can’t be as honest as he wants to be with you. It’s for your safety and honestly to protect your sanity. It’s enough that you’re fully aware of the position he holds as a Hashira, and yet you insist on staying with him. Not that he could ever let you go. Even though he knows it’s selfish for him to have you, he would rather be a selfish man than be without you.

“Same old, same old. Still a little strange without Uzui, but we are managing.” Giyuu kisses you again before standing. Just as you do every night, you’ve got a bath waiting for him, and he’d like to get in and soak so that he can get back to you before sleep takes you for the night.

“That’s good. Everyone is well?”

“Yes.” He purses his lips as he fiddles with the rest of his garments, debating on whether or not to tell you this. But he thinks you may find this amusing. “Shinazugawa looked as though he was seconds away from ripping my head from my shoulders before the Master appeared.”

He hears your soft giggles behind him. “Were you sitting too close to his lady again?” You tease.

Giyuu shrugs, though you can hardly see the movement. “For Hashira, they are very bad at concealing their secrets. They smell of sex every time they arrive.”

“Yes, but it’s very cute to see. I’m happy she continues to keep our secret even though she has no idea we know hers.”

Ah, yes. Shinazugawa believes Giyuu is interested in his beloved, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. See, what the other Hashira (aside from Shinazugawa’s love) doesn’t know is that Giyuu is married - happily, at that. His colleague only found this out after running into you in town, carelessly dressed in Giyuu’s haori as yours were in the wash. And when she confronted you about the very familiar garb you were wearing, you just “felt that you could trust her with their secret”. It’s worked out for you both so far. It’s made you and Giyuu’s fellow Hashira closer, and Giyuu is simply glad you have a friend who you can confide in. He doesn’t even mind playing the messenger between you two, typically passing along stories and jokes from you to his associate when you’re all called together for a Hashira meeting.

But it’s also placed a large target on his back, a certain white haired psychopath surely waiting for the right moment to shove his blade down Giyuu’s throat.

“He believes I have feelings for her, you know? Almost blurted out their secret in a jealous rage in front of us all.”

“What?!” You gasp, scandalized. “You’re kidding.”

“No. He hates me because of it. It’s quite obvious.”

You hum, mind going a million miles a minute as you mull over this information. “Maybe it’s due to you being so unapproachable and distant. You don’t spend much time with the other Hashira. Perhaps it makes you unlikable.”

Giyuu winces, your words touching a sore spot because this isn’t the first time he’s been told he’s not liked among the Hashira. Kocho once said something similar.

“I’m not unlikable…” he grumbles, lips curling at the corners when he hears your laughter again. You tease him too much. “I’m going to take a bath. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

++++++++++

“Shall we try for a child?”

The question leaves Giyuu’s lips before he can talk himself out of it. He debated on saving this question for the morning as he joined you beneath the blankets, but his bath left him to sit in silence with nothing but his thoughts.

Will he survive this war?

Will you be alright without him?

Will you be lonely if he never returns?

And arguably, the most important question – will his line end with him?

The clock is ticking and who knows if he will ever make it back to you.

He’d never given much thought to children, but Giyuu had also never given much thought to marriage before he’d met you.

The prospect of a child never appealed to Giyuu before, but the closer he gets to this inevitable battle, the more it’s on his mind. If anything were to happen to him, he would not want you to be alone. He would want to leave you with something of his, something that you’ll be able to look at and be reminded of him if worse comes to worse.

“What brings this on?” You ask, more quiet than normal. “I mean you…you’ve never discussed children before.” You roll onto your side, propping your head up on your elbow. The moon casts almost an ethereal glow over you, your beauty clear even in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

He shrugs. “I suppose I’ve never thought about it.” His blue eyes gaze into yours. There’s something there, something behind your eyes that you’re not saying. If it were a no, you would say so. You’ve never been one to mince words. If it were a yes…well, you’d say that as well.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“Yes.” He sits up, pulling you into his lap. His fingers play with the strings that hold your top together, gently tugging. It loosens, exposing your collarbone to him and he can’t resist placing a gentle kiss there. “Wouldn’t you enjoy it?” His lips ghost your skin lightly, and the sigh that rushes past your lips is music to his ears. “Caring for this small person, a perfect mixture of you and I?”

You place your hands on his shoulders, head tilting to the side to make room for Giyuu as his lips explore your neck, your throat, the swell of your breasts. “Yes,” you whisper. The sleeves of your top slip from your shoulders, a new part of you exposed for Giyuu to now claim, and you let him. You let Giyuu do whatever he wants with you when it comes to this. You’re always so pliable as soon as his arms wrap around you.

“I want it,” you breathe, hands pulling Giyuu from your shoulder and cupping his face. You press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Let's have a child.”

Wide eyes beam at you in the moonlight, a look of appreciation swimming in them. How did Giyuu get so lucky to have a wife like you? His hands guide your top down, revealing your smooth skin to the night air. His lips caress your breasts, breaths ghosting over your slowly hardening nipples. He takes one into his mouth, groaning at how the soft flesh fills his mouth. Your body is beautiful — a face that would bring a god to their knees, curves in all the places Giyuu appreciates, a form that molds perfectly to his, made for him and only him.

Giyuu lets his mind wander while his mouth presses sweet kisses to your chest. What will you be like when you’re pregnant? Will you crave for certain foods? He’s heard that that is common. What will you look like when you’re months into your pregnancy? Will Giyuu be there to witness your belly grow round with his child?

Something clicks in Giyuu’s mind at that moment. And while he’s not usually rough with you, he can’t seem to control himself when a guttural moan bubbles from deep within his chest and he wraps an arm around you, flipping you both over. He settles his hips between your legs, rolling his hips against your core, reveling when your back arches off the futon as you moan. And Giyuu dips down, capturing your mouth with his and swallowing each and every sound you make.

It’s all dry humping and moans, whispered “I love you’s” and peeling each other’s clothes off until you both lay bare. Giyuu listens to the way your breath hitches as he kisses his way down your body. His lips brush over all of your sensitive spots on the way down, only stopping when they reach the most sensitive. Your chest heaves with heavy breaths as Giyuu peers up from between your legs. This is one of his favorite views, particularly at night when the soft glow of the moon illuminates your body in such a way that he can’t help but be painfully erect.

Giyuu is a man of very few words. Everyone knows this. Even with you, he is not particularly talkative, but as Giyuu takes in the sight of you, legs spread wide and the puffy lips of your pussy coated with your arousal shimmering in the moonlight, he must let it be known. “You are so beautiful”. He licks his lips, groaning because he is eager to have you, eager to taste you, feel you, breed you.

“Wider, my love,” Giyuu commands, and you do as you're told, spreading your legs to further expose your aching cunt to him. “Perfect,” he whispers, hands coming up to caress the inside of your thighs where he plants tender kisses along the plush flesh. He leans forward, burying his nose into your core and inhaling deeply.

And this may seem odd to those whose jobs don’t revolve around breathing, but there’s something about your scent that has changed. Giyuu can’t place his finger on it. Maybe your scent smells sweeter? Or perhaps your scent is simply more intoxicating because Giyuu has reached a level of arousal that is new to him. But there is without a doubt something different.

He decides not to dwell on it any longer when a desperate and hushed “please” reaches his ears. He realizes then that your thighs are shaking, eager for him to proceed. So he presses a soft kiss to your glossy lips. You gasp quietly, back arching immediately and Giyuu takes that moment to lick a fat strip through your folds.

The groan he lets out is deep, animalistic almost. It vibrates through your core and the sensation makes you reach down, weaving your fingers through Giyuu’s dark tresses to grab hold.

“O-oh, Giyuu…” You gasp as he presses his tongue to your clit, his eyes roll back when he feels the slick pour from your core and straight into his mouth. He laps it up eagerly.

“You taste divine,” he groans into you and you moan in response, hips rolling up to grind your cunt against Giyuu’s mouth, begging for more. And Giyuu obliges, lips sealing around your clit and sucking, licking, nipping at your swollen bud until you’re practically fucking yourself on his tongue.

“Giyuuuuu,” you keen, back lifting off the futon again. You moan loudly, fingers clutching Giyuu’s hair and pulling him further into your pussy. “Right there–” you pant. “Right there! Please don’t stop–”

Giyuu grunts, wincing because his cock is throbbing painfully against his abdomen. He can feel the moisture beneath him, his tip leaking with his arousal. Surely this will stain the fabrics, but that doesn’t matter at the moment. He brings a hand to your pussy, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles. You’re thrashing, moaning his name over and over, damn near about to pull his hair out when Giyuu plunges his tongue into your clenching hole, and he has to will himself not to cum when you cry out and your soft walls clamp down on his tongue immediately. Your hips come up to meet his mouth, grinding your soaking cunt against Giyuu’s face. And he loves it.

Giyuu loves the taste of you. He’s not much of a drinker, he’ll admit. Never much cared for the taste of liquor and has never experienced being drunk in his life, but he imagines it feels similar to the way his head is swimming just off the taste of you.

By now, the futon is sticky with his precum, and it doesn’t help that Giyuu has now been mindlessly rutting against the fabric to find some sort of friction. He longs to make you cum on his tongue, but he also longs to bury himself inside you. But you make the decision for him, tugging his hair until Giyuu finally pulls his mouth away from your center. He crawls along your body, the echoing sound of his length separating from the stickiness of the bed filling the room.

He’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your wetness and it takes him by surprise when you run your tongue from the tip of his chin, all the way to his mouth where you press your lips to his in a passionate kiss. He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you murmur against his lips, “how do you plan on putting a baby in me if you don’t fuck me?”

Giyuu thinks that if Muzan doesn’t end up being the death of him, you will be. He puts a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and whispering, “Forgive me, my love. I got carried away.” He slips his free hand between your bodies, a fiery heat blooming in his cheeks when he feels the way his cock is dripping onto your cunt. This is it. There will be no going back once he goes forward with this.

“When I’m done, you’ll be with child,” he says, seriously, as though it’s a fact. Because in his mind, it is. Giyuu grips his length, stroking himself slowly, rubbing his tip against your clit as he lets his mind wander briefly, and lets your moans fuel his runaway thoughts.

His head is consumed with the image of your breasts, swollen and dripping with milk and he has to halt his strokes to stave off the sudden urge to blow his load. He’s a little surprised, actually. Giyuu has seen and rescued his fair share of pregnant women, and didn’t think twice about it. Forgot about them the moment they weren’t in his direct line of sight. But you…you who consumes his every waking thought…the idea of you with leaking nipples, allowing Giyuu to taste the delicious nectar that your body has produced? It’s a thought so arousing, he has to tuck it away mentally, save it for when he’s alone on his missions so that in the late hours of the night, when he’s wrapping his hand around his cock, the image is still fresh.

He’s not sure when he slipped inside of you, let alone flipped you both over again so that he’s now on his back while you ride him. You take him all the way to the tip, moaning loudly every time you sink onto him. The intense waves of pleasure bring time to a standstill. Your nails are sunken deep into Giyuu’s abdomen, steadying yourself as Giyuu’s hips thrust into you at a bruising pace. On a typical night, Giyuu wouldn’t be so rough with you, so greedy with you. But tonight, while his mind is focused on a single goal – ensuring he leaves you with his offspring growing inside your womb – he feels like a crazed man.

Your cries grow louder, more high pitched and your movements stutter momentarily. When you cry out that you’re going to cum, riding him faster and faster, walls fluttering around him, breasts bouncing beautifully, Giyuu’s mind is back on his prior thoughts – dripping, swollen and full…

And then Giyuu is crying out with you, gritting his teeth as he fucks up into you, emptying his balls to the point that he’s lightheaded. His vision blurs as he keeps pumping into you. He hears the squelching, feels the splashing of his seed dripping from you and onto his abdomen, and Giyuu pulls you down to take his entire length again and again until he finally comes to a halt. His hands grip your hips tight, eyes honed in on where you sit flat against him as your sweet pussy cradles his cock.

“Don’t move,” he growls, surprising himself with the gravelly sound that just left his lips. And you nod, whimpering above him. Within your walls, Giyuu can feel his length still pulsing, spurting pathetic, weak strings of his seed. This orgasm has his chest heaving, hands shaking. He grits his teeth, using his hands to rock your hips back and forth.

“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” he coos, finally releasing his hold on you. His fingers ghost along your skin, from your chest, over your nipples, down to your abdomen where he places his hands flat against your stomach. He focuses on fucking you deeply, burying his cock as far as he can, pushing his seed as deep as possible. “Our child will be so lucky.”

“Yes, my love,” you breathe, eyes closed while you continue to take all of him so well. “And you’ll be an amazing father.”

Your words turn him on, more than he’s ever been. He rolls you both over once more and when you’re on your back, Giyuu takes a moment to pull out and admire his work. His eyes are locked on your core, dripping with evidence of him, pulsing and hungry for more. And he’s still so hard. He wants to give you more, needs to give you more. So Giyuu slips back into your pussy easily, the lubrication from the mixture of both your releases making you both shudder.

He’s so fucking sensitive, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when your greedy cunt is still squeezing down on him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, pushing forward until a knee rests on either side of your head. And Giyuu thinks he may black out, because he doesn’t know that he’s ever been this deep inside of you before. He can feel his seed spilling from you, slipping down to your ass where his balls are pressed so hard, it keeps the thick liquid from flowing any further.

“One more…” he grits out, brows knitted together in determination. “Need to make sure it sticks.” Then he’s fucking you again, one palm resting on the back of each thigh, balls smacking loudly against your ass with every rough thrust.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” You gasp, fingers gripping the bed sheets tightly, and Giyuu whimpers in response. Your pussy is tightening around him, a vice grip already greedily trying to pull whatever he has left to offer from him.

“I want your baby,” you murmur into Giyuu’s ear and he groans, voice rough with desire. His thrusts pick up speed, searching for more pleasure.

“Do you?” He moans against your shoulder when he feels himself hit a particularly soft spot within your walls. “I’ll give you one. I swear I will –”

“Yes!” You practically scream. “Right there, Giyuu–”

“Fuck –” His eyes are closed, mouth slack as he pumps wildly into you. You’re so wet, so tight, so soft and as much as he wants to keep fucking you like this, he’s about to cum embarrassingly fast for the second time tonight. He can feel his balls get a little tighter with each sticky thrust. “Shall I b– ah…shall I breed you once more? Fill you up…ngh…until you’re dripping with my seed again?”

“Please–”

You hardly have to finish your words, because Giyuu is grunting loudly, bottoming out just as he spills himself into you, giving you every drop he has to offer. “Stay still,” he tells you, still thrusting into you, even though he can go no further. He pulls back once more, then sinks balls deep inside of you, breathing heavily as he empties himself. “Need you to take it all, my love.”

“I will,” you pant, his perfect little wife.

You stay like this for some time, Giyuu plugging your pussy until his cock softens inside you. Then he pulls out slowly when he has no other choice. You sigh in relief when you’re able to finally put your legs down as Giyuu lies beside you. He scoops you into his arms, kissing you all over your face, silent apologies for being so aggressive with you. You’re both catching your breath while Giyuu softly runs his hand up and down your spine.

“I wonder if we’ll be successful.” Giyuu mutters when the silence is too much and his thoughts become so unbearable he has to share them with you.

You wiggle out of his hold, sitting up to look down at him. You’re smiling, a cute and goofy smile that Giyuu only sees when you’re up to something. Or when you have a secret that you’re finding impossible to keep from him. So Giyuu sits up as well, brow raised in curiosity.

“What is it?” He asks suspiciously. His eyes narrow when your smile widens.

“It was successful…” You take Giyuu’s hand and press it to your stomach. “about two months ago.”

Giyuu is confused. His eyes are stuck to where you have his hand. Two months ago? Successful?

You can see the confusion clear as day, even in the darkness. “My love,” Your hand cups his cheek and like instinct, Giyuu leans into the touch. He still hasn’t torn his gaze from your joined hands. “Giyuu…look at me.”

And he does, back rigid as he stares at you with wide eyes. The cogs are turning, finally. He thinks he may have figured it out. But there’s a teasing smirk sitting on your lips, and Giyuu doesn’t know if he should believe you or not.

“A-” He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “Are you…?”

You pull Giyuu towards you to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I’ve been with child for some time. I just wanted to wait to be certain. I planned on surprising you today, but your meeting ran so late and…” Your hand covers your mouth, hiding the small giggles threatening to bubble up from your chest. “Well, it’s just so cute when you get all serious and focused like that.”

You fall back onto the bed, your pretty laughter filling the room, and Giyuu can’t help it. He laughs, too. Your laughter is so infectious he can’t resist.

It’s a strange mixture of elation, fear, maybe relief. He’d accomplished his goal before he even knew it. But with him leaving to go to the mansion tomorrow, knowing what is planned, he’s now got a new sense of dread seeping into his bones.

But it also gives him a new sense of purpose, outside of returning to you.

Giyuu must defeat Muzan.

Giyuu must survive.

Giyuu must get back to his wife, to his child, to his family.

No matter what.

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