#I just feel like she does have a big heart but she can’t stand to be disliked | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlesslights · 1 year

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Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

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A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

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Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

#miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut

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artinvain · 4 months

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Toxic bff Abby that denies she is in love with you but is extremely possessive over you and basically treats you like her gf, but still fucks other girls imagining you; getting jealous seeing ANYONE else come near you. NEED IT PLS

toxic!bff!abby x reader

Abby’s so insecure and she lets it rule everything she does. she can't seem to get it right -- more plot and angst than i intended. lesbian smut under the cut - men and minors dni

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it happens every time. abby gets drunk when you have a fight and does something stupid to forget about you. she could see you dancing up against her from the rival basketball team. and although abby would usually rip you from their arms and dance with you herself — feel your ass grind up against her crotch, let you control where her hands went as you dance — she can’t do that tonight.

abby had seen you at the bar for the pre-party, the girl you’re with buying you drinks, resting her hand on your thigh, inching ever so close to your face and leaning in for a kiss, and abby seethed with every brush of your lips. finally seeing red when you get down from your bar stool to stand between her legs.

abby could see the girl you were with now and it coloured her vision crimson. ellie fucking williams. of all people you could flirt with. abby had to think you were being vindictive — trying to get back at her for when she ditched you to get with tammy instead of take you to an art gallery like she’d promised for weeks.

It wasn’t completely her fault although abby could come up with a million excuses to absolve herself but the prevailing one would always be that she was a fucking coward. it felt too much like a date. a real date that she wants to take you on — not as her friend. but abby couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting her.

she could see it so vividly in her head -- you turning away from her, your face contorted in distaste "but abby, we're just friends." you would say "i could never see you like that." and abby would understand. because you were too good for her -- too smart, funny, kind, you gave her too many chances because your heart is so big. abby didn't deserve someone who could colour the world and scrub out the black and white monotony of every day life.

abby didn't realise she was gripping your arm so tight it could be bruising, she'd been glowering down at ellie, seething and her mouth practically foamed with her hard ragged breaths. "the fuck is wrong with you anderson?" ellie snarls, abby twists her mouth and "you, are all over my best friend,"

"and you're best friend -- who is right here -- is fine with it," you snatch your arm from abby's grip. you couldn't even fight her at this point. she was colder to you recently, she sold you excuses for her distance, came to your apartment still dewy and smelling like someone else. she'd been rubbing it in your face that she wanted nothing to do with you. you ignored that she didn't reply when you'd casually told her you loved her after she dropped you off at home last week. but you couldn't keep walking into apartment as other women walked out past you, a drunken smile plastered on their faces. she did this every few weeks and you were sick of it, but this time was worse than usual.

"go hang out with tammy or whoever," you back into ellie rubbing your arm and abby swallowed, her eyes catching yours -- hollow as they'd never been when looking at her. but just last week you had told her you loved her. could that change so quickly? had she gone too far? abby's fists clenched, bouncing on her weak knees.

"I- we need to talk," abby says without thinking and she immediately wanted to punch herself.

'talk about what?' abby thought to herself, she could never tell you that she loved you back, that more than that she worshipped you. she could neve tell you that every time she looked at you -- she fought not to let her face heat up. abby couldn't tell you that her chest puffed up with pride that she could call you -- something so precious hers. her best friend. you are the only person she ever wanted to be around really.

"I'm leaving," you say with a deep breath as ellie puts a few paper bills on the bar counter, one in the tip jar and slides her hand onto the small of your back. "get yourself together. i'll see you later maybe."

now abby had to watch you dance with ellie, smiling with your arms draped over should shoulders while ellie whispered in your ear. she downed her shot and then decided not to beat ellie up because she didn't want to be benched the entire season. so, instead she put her jacket on and approached you with her head hanging low.

your movements halt as abby stands near the both of you, "can we talk?" abby asks, her watery blue eyes slowly rising to meet yours. you sigh and turn to kiss ellie's cheek goodnight before leading abby out of the house and down the street.

"I'm really sorry," abby says as you walk slow into the crisp autumn evening.

"for what abby?"

"everything," she shrugs and tries a chuckle but coughs awkwardly when you glare at her. "so, you don't have anyone to take home tonight?" you question and abby sighs, running her hands over her face. "come on, don't be like that," abby says and stops in front of her truck opening the passenger door for you.

"I'm not getting in unless you tell me what you're sorry for."

abby groans, clenching her jaw and resting her hands against her bumper, leaning on it and ducking her head.

"I'm sorry I've been such a sloppy asshole this week. I'm sorry i tried to make you jealous and I'm sorry that I didn't reply when you said it. because I should have."

you know what abby is talking about but god, she can't even say it. it fucking wrecks you because she doesn't value you enough to even tell you what you mean to her, if you mean anything at all. you start to walk past her, "hey wait, oh my god -- I love you!"

abby yells, her mouth parts but no other words come to her. she swallows thickly when you turn around, the tears on your face matching hers.

"I'm sorry I'm a fucking idiot and I didn't tell you sooner but i don't love you like a friend. I am in love with you, okay? and - and I'm a shitty person and I don't wanna mess us up,"

abby can't stand your silence but when she looks up, there you are. standing so close to her she can feel your warm breath on her cheeks.

"do you promise to at least give us a chance?"

abby, cups the back of your neck and presses a soft kiss to your mouth as her answer, pulls your body flush to her so she can lean over you and lick into your mouth. moan as you suck on her tongue.

"m'sorry, so sorry sweetheart," abby whispers in between kisses as she feels your tears on her cheeks, "let me make it up to you."

abby drives you not far down the road to her place, her hand on your all the time, pressing kisses to your knuckles until she shuts the door behind you and kisses you again, this time her hands going down to your ass, gripping and squeezing, her mouth beginning to pepper kisses up and down your neck.

you whine when abby backs you into the hallway of her loft, behind the kitchen wall ands falls on top of you on her bed. "i swear to god, everything will be different," abby moans, as you grip her hand and bring it to your breast, where she takes the liberty to start pressing kisses to your chest, removing your clothes feverishly. you whine as she pulls away from you, catching her breath.

"do you not?" you ask shakily and abby cups your cheek.

"i do, i do. i just wanted it to be different. I didn't want to be fighting with you." abby whimpers when you grip her and pull her close so she's laying on top of you. "then, show me it'll be different."

abby takes her time lathering you chest when she removes your bra, kissing your tits and moaning as she sucks your nipples into her mouth, her hips starting to falter against you thigh. no matter how many women she'd been with. she never could get off. she didn't feel much of anything unless she thought of you, played your three words over and over again in her mind. but now, now she had the real thing and she's too desperate stop herself.

she flicks her fingers over your wet nipples, "so fucking pretty," she whines against you, massaging your tits and sucking marks between your chest as she pulls them close to her chest, moaning and grinding down on your hips going again to suck and swap nipples to wet and play with while your hips started to buck against hers.

"shit fuck, m'gonna cum, fuck i'm so sorry," she's utterly embarrassed, hides her face in your neck and she whines loudly, her fingers still playing with your nipples as she cums. you gasp and chuckle, unbelievably wetter at watching her cum just from sucking on your tits.

"i'm so fucking sorry-" "for what? for feeling good?" you mumble and press a kiss to her mouth, guiding her hand between the two of you so she can feel how wet she's making you, "always been a mess f'me," she groans, her fingers starting to circle your clit, hearing you moan she ducks her head into your neck again to kiss and mark you.

"i love you," abby moans as her fingers dig into your panties and start to slide into you, your gummy, wet walls inviting her in. "christ, you're so wet," she moans and she kisses down your torso and removes your shorts and panties, her mouth latching to your clit and she starts moaning, licking and twist her head so she's making circles on your clit while her fingers curl and fuck into you.

"fuck, abby! yes, yes please more," you yelp, your legs falling open and abby pulls them over her shoulders licking the wetness around her fingers in your cunt and groaning as she does so at your taste, another finger twisting into your sweet pussy she can't help but grin against you, licking and lapping at your clit, as you cum, her thumb coming to circle it instead.

"you look so pretty all fucked out f'me," she moans, pressing a hand down on your belly and fucking her fingers deeper, moaning at the way your mouth falls open, and your legs start to shake, "i love you, i fucking love you baby," she whines and you're spurting against her hand, licking up over your clit and sucking it, your taste filling her mouth.

"swear i'm gonna be better, i promise," abby says as she gently caresses you, cupping your cheek and rubbing her hands over your body. abby silently presses a sticky kiss to your temple and disappears as you catch your breath.

"haven't used it with anyone else," abby assures you when you look at her strap on quizzical and yet biting your lip as she clambers over you. "you're everything to me, i'm so sorry for everything," abby says as she lines herself up with you, her strap already covered in lube. you nod when abby hovers over you and she sighs when she finally sinks into you, your eyes crossing at the way it curls perfectly into your gspot, the ridged cock stimulating every part of your pussy.

"was saving this for you- fuck," she whimpers as the strap starts to vibrate against her and you whine loudly as it tremors inside you. "wanted to feel this good with you and you only" she moans gasping into your mouth as you press her close when abby starts to fucking into you.

you're both so overstimulated it doesn't take much of her deep, wet thrusts until you're crying against her shoulder, biting into it as you both cum again. you push abby out at the pain of the overstimulation and she rips the strap off of her in the same manner, turning it off.

after abby rocks you both to sleep, she's woken by her phone ringing, at reading the caller ID she moves into her bathroom, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and whispering into the phone.

"i fucking told you not to call," abby whispers, turning over to look at your sleeping form under her sheets.

"no, tammy -- enough. I'm done fucking around," she groans and near hangs up until tammy whispers something over the line, something you can't quite make out, all you can hear is.

"jesus christ, okay, I'll be over soon."

"where are you going?" you ask as abby gets dressed, "tammy-" "are you fucking serious?" you chuckle in disbelief pulling your clothes on in a hurry.

"no, you don't understand -- wait!" abby calls as you pick your jacket up from off the floor and shuffle your shoes on.

"I'm done waiting for you abby. you couldn't even last a day."

"please, stay -- i just, you don't understand," abby pleads, holding onto your forearm.

"then explain,"

abby fumbles for something, anything. you weren't supposed to hear anything, you were supposed to stay asleep. abby just needed to be gone a few hours, she just needed to take care of things with tammy one last time and then she was yours. she just wanted to make sure.

"so, you're not sure you love me?" you roll your eyes as abby rubs her face in her hands.

"if i stay, abby, what does that say about me?" you sniffle and snatch your arm from her grip for the last time today.

"i hope you get what you're looking for anderson," you nod and pull your phone out of your pocket, texting ellie to pick you up if she was still awake.

ellie: be there in 2 mins.

"see you around," you purse your lips and close the door behind you, your ears rushing with blood so loudly you can't hear abby breaking into sobs behind the door.

tags: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz

#lesbian #lesbian smut #abby tlou smut #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #nsft lesbian #abby tlou x reader smut #tlou smut #tlou x reader smut #abby anderson x reader smut

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pearlessance · 2 months

Text

Moral Modification

Summary: When you decide to pierce your nipples, Joel Miller breaks his moral code to lend a helping hand.

Pairing: JacksonEra!Joel Miller/reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, seduction, age gap(undefined), piercings and needles, nipple play, moral ambiguity, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, size difference

NOTE: this one shot was written for my bff joelmillersgirlfriend and all of the bolded words are titles of her fics over on AO3!! if you haven't read any of her work i def recommend going over there to check it out she's incredible. we also have a 3-part co-write we did on AO3 called False Pretenses! thank you to everyone for reading, love u all <3

[cross posted on AO3]

[masterlist]

You find it on a scouting mission.

Maria had sent you and Joel out in search of books to fill the shelves of Jackson’s overused library. It was a leisurely mission, moving slowly from house to house, searching through broken shelves and dressers and nightstands.

The blistering summer heat has you feeling exhausted by midday, and so the sun hasn’t even set when you pick a still-standing apartment complex and settle in for the night.

You drop your pack and flop onto the moth-eaten couch while Joel triple-checks every exit and every entrance in the tiny apartment he’d picked on the very top floor. He’s going at it again, glancing out of the wide windows with his rifle in hand, when you say, “If there was a way in or out, I think you would’ve found it the third time.”

He doesn’t say anything. Not a man of many words, Joel Miller. But he was certainly fun to torture with lewd suggestions.

“It’s real hot today,” you say. And it’s the goddamn truth—your skin is warm and your shirt sticks to the small of your back, and even though you’re wearing jean shorts the fabric chafes at your thighs.

He does nothing but grunt in agreement as a reply. Few words.

Though you try, you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you tell him, “We’d be a lot cooler if we took off some of these clothes, you know.”

Joel Miller is a good man. A really good man. This is why he pretends you don’t get to him, why he pretends to shrug you off as just a naive little girl whenever you brazenly flirt with him.

But you see it.

The way his calloused hands tighten around his rifle, the flush that creeps up his neck, the way he turns his head just enough to keep that smirk from out of view. ��You’re ridiculous,” he says. But he leaves his spot at the window and joins you on the couch instead.

You set your legs in his lap and when he rests his hand on your calf you half expect him to push you away. But he doesn’t—his fingers linger, pressing into the tender muscle. “How am I ridiculous? It’s only common sense, Mr. Miller.”

His eyes catch yours at the name. He’s never directly said it, but you have a hunch that it does something to him, speaking to him as an authority. A part of you wonders if he ever thinks of you in the way you think of him, wonders if his mind is often filled with sinful, raw images. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” You do. Of course, you do. But you’re out here all alone and he’s sitting beside you and you can feel the heat of his skin against yours and he’s so big and warm and masculine. You want him, need him in a way you’ll never even try to understand. “Explain it to me,” you urge.

Joel leans his rifle against the arm of the couch and reaches up to rub the tension from his jaw. He smiles, one of those all-knowing smiles that makes your heart flutter. It’s a secret sort of smile, meant for just you and him. “You got any idea how old I am, girl?”

You shrug and say, “It doesn’t matter.” Because it doesn’t. “I like that you’re older. Besides, I’m not talking about that.” You are. “I’m talking about the weather. The heat. I’m going to take my shorts off.”

Slowly, carefully, you trail your fingertips over the curve of your chest, down the center of your abdomen. His eyes follow your every movement, pupils blown wide and jaw set firmly. His hand flexes around your calf, squeezing softly.

When you slip the edge of your pinky beneath the denim waistband his lips part. You trace the seam, from one hip to the other and back again, real slow. Joel watches you and you watch him, transfixed, thighs pressed together to abate the ache that forms between them.

For a moment, a single moment, you think you have him. You can see the temptation on his face, clear as day. You think you’ve finally cracked the eternal goodness and strength of one Joel Miller…but his hand covers yours the moment you reach for the silver button.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and you feel a little like you’ve been caught red handed.

His fingers squeeze yours, but his touch is so sudden and electrifying that the faintest whimper erupts from your chest. You want him to touch you with those hands, to touch you everywhere. You want him to take all that you offer and more.

But he’s just so good. “Stop,” he says, breathless.

The hesitance is palpable. The strain in his voice. You know he wants you, can see the growing erection pushing at the metallic zipper of his jeans from the other end of the couch. You know it’ll only take a little more convincing, a little more of the delicious chase…but you want the final decision to be his. You want him to need it, too.

So you relent.

You stand to your feet and move towards the staircase in the abandoned apartment. But when you step between his thighs, you linger. “Did you check for any books upstairs?”

He shakes his head. “No. Don’t think whoever lived here before were much the readin’ type.”

“Yeah, well…didn’t think you were much the reading type, either. But here you are.”

Joel shrugs. “Not much to do at the end of the world. Helps pass the time.”

You knock your knee against his playfully. “You even know how to read, old man?” He chuckles softly and it feels like a victory. “Never seen you in the library.”

He spreads his legs further to give you more room, settling into the couch with his head tilted back. You know he doesn’t mean to look that fucking good doing it, but he does. Taking up all that space, commanding without even trying. It makes your mouth water, makes your skin prickle in every spot he allows himself to look. And then he says lowly, “I’ve seen you.”

It gives you pause. Because if he’s seen you in the library back in Jackson but you haven’t seen him, it means he notices you. Even when you’re not out here alone, even when you’re not urging him to touch you, even when you’re not trying. A seductive smirk finds your lips. “You gotta crush on me or something, Mr. Miller?”

Joel scoffs and shakes his head, turning away from you to hide the redness on his face that has nothing to do with the heat.

You giggle softly and decide to grant him a little reprieve. “I’ll be back,” you say, escaping the growing tension and focusing instead on the task at hand. “If they don’t have books, maybe they have something else that could be useful. Clothes or shoes or batteries or something.”

It only takes a few minutes before you realize what he meant when he said the past inhabitants of the apartment don’t seem much like the reading type. There’s not a single bookshelf to be found. Nothing on the walls, nothing standing in the spare room. There are three computers, though. Not that they’re worth anything now.

Still, you try your damndest to find something. Anything. You rifle through drawers and find nothing but a cracked and weathered bible, of which you have a thousand and one copies in Jackson.

The closest thing you find to a real book is a stack of magazines in the cluttered bathroom. All are covered in a thick layer of dust and most have images of sports cars on the front, but they’re worth grabbing, anyway. You’re sure Tommy or Greg or someone wouldn’t mind skimming through them, so you grab the whole stack and return downstairs to Joel.

You’re halfway down the stairs when the magazine on the bottom of the stack tumbles from your hands. And it’s not a sports car on the front page.

Instead, it’s a woman all dressed up in leather. She wears platform boots that reach her knees, adorned with heavy silver buckles down the front. Even though you were born not long after the outbreak, you’re not oblivious. You know what pornography is, but you’ve never seen anything quite like this.

You pick it up and put it on the top of the pile.

When Joel sees the small stack in your hand he asks, “Anything good?”

“Mm. Not sure yet.” You set the pile onto the floor beside your pack, nestle back into your spot in the opposite corner of the couch, and flip open the magazine with the leather-clad woman on the front, reading the title aloud. “Have you ever heard of a porno mag named Dreadnought?”

“What are you—is that—?”

“I’m just curious, Mr. Miller. Relax.” You lift your feet and put them back in his lap and discover he is anything but relaxed. You can feel the stiffness in his thighs even through the thick soles of your high-top sneakers.

“No, what? No, you shouldn’t—you should…”

You ignore his stuttering, flipping quickly through the pages. Most of them are filled with erotic images of women dressed similarly to the one on the front page. They each have a man in a curious, submissive position. But none of this interests you, none of it even surprises you, in truth.

Near the end of the magazine is where you find exactly what you’re looking for. The woman on the front page is in different outfits, one in leather, another in red lace. But it’s the third page of her feature where she’s completely naked. Her breasts are full and sit too high on her chest to be real, but they’re beautiful. Not for any reason other than those pretty silver barbells that are pierced through her nipples.

You lean up, tucking your legs beneath yourself, and show Joel the image. “Was this common? You know, like…before?”

His face is red and you think maybe he’s forgotten how to speak. Because no words come out, he just sputters. “Is…what…which part—are you…I don’t—”

“I’ve never seen anyone with pierced nipples,” you interrupt. “That’s what I’m talking about. Was it common?”

He seems to find himself. “Uhm…no. Not really, I guess. Why do you ask?”

You shrug and find yourself leaning into his side, flipping to the next page. There’s another image of the woman, and though she’s back in that red lace again, you can see the piercings pushing against the thin fabric. “It’s pretty,” you say. “I like it. Do you think you could do something like that still?”

“Well, back then they had people who’d do that sorta thing professionally,” he says. “But as long as you’re careful, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”

You let it go, and the two of you ration what food you have left, deciding to head back to the commune within the next day or two. You fall asleep leaning up against him, head resting on his shoulder. And you know Joel doesn’t rest much outside of Jackson’s walls, always too worried about being found or threatened in some way. But halfway through the night, you wake covered in a thin layer of sweat, scorched by the warmth of his head against your belly.

At some point in your sleep, you’d shifted, laying on the couch on your back, and Joel must have followed you. His arms are wrapped around your waist and his torso covers your legs, body heat warming you to uncomfortable temperatures.

But you don't dare move. Instead, you slide your fingers through the soft tendrils of his hair and scratch softly at his scalp, smiling in the dark as he moans in his sleep.

Your luck the following day is much better. You stumble upon an old strip mall, and inside there’s a small, indie bookstore. Joel picks through the science fiction section, stuffing his pack with everything he thinks might be interesting. He finds a few children’s books and pockets those, too, while you browse the romance section.

Half the books are crumbling dust in your hands and the others have so much water damage they’re hardly legible, but you pick up what you can. While you’re rifling through the horror books, stashing anything written by Stephen King or H.P. Lovecraft, Joel comes up behind you and says, “You really read that kinda thing?”

“What, scary stuff?”

He nods, takes the copy of Carrie from your hands, and flips it over. “Yeah. Ain’t we got enough horror out there already?”

You roll your eyes dramatically. “It’s not the same,” you explain. You flick the corner of the book in his hands and go back to browsing the shelves. “ This you can turn off,” you try to explain. “If you get too scared you can just close the book. Have you ever read anything scary before?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Try it one day,” you say. “The best time is in October, though. Under the sheets with a flashlight, scared out of your mind. It’s so good, Mr. Miller.”

His jaw feathers as if there’s something he wants to say. But the words never pass his lips. He simply slips the book into your pack and remains silent as he watches you.

It takes a while, but eventually, you’re satisfied with your haul. The day is still early, and so you say, “If we head back now we could save some time. Get home before dark tomorrow.”

To your surprise, he agrees with you. The extra weight of the books has you feeling sluggish an hour into your journey back home, but you persist. And even though it’s significantly less hot today than yesterday, at least once an hour Joel’s passing you his plastic bottle and urging you to drink water.

It’s a sweet gesture, in truth. Joel’s got this innate instinct to provide for others, you know. You’ve seen it a hundred times, the way he just silently takes care of the people he cares about. Ellie, Tommy, Maria, you. You’ve observed him for long enough to know that he’s a protector, a nurturer.

The only problem with Joel taking care of you is how much you like it. It makes you feel soft and gooey on the inside, producing sordid images in your brain of repaying the favor on your knees. You think about Joel’s big hands on you often—in your dreams, even.

But…today is different because you can feel the weight of the magazine at the bottom of your pack. You can’t shake the image of the woman on the cover and that metal through her breasts, can’t get over how elegant and edgy and bewitching she looked. You begin to wonder how it would feel to have Joel touch you if you had the same body modification—would his calloused hands feel more intense, sensations heightened with the sensitivity? Would he be gentle and slow-moving? How soft would his tongue feel against your skin over the adornment?

He seems to sense your distracted thoughts. “You okay? Seem quiet.”

“Fine,” you answer a little too quickly. “I’m just…just hot is all.”

Joel reaches behind him for his water bottle again but you shake your head.

“No, no. Not like…not like that.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, and you can feel his eyes on the side of your face but you don’t have the energy to tease him about it. Not when you can’t stop thinking about his fucking hands. “Let's, uhm…let’s find someplace to rest for the night. Sun’s startin’ to set anyhow.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.” As long as you stay six feet away from him. As long as you can keep your godforsaken hands to yourself. As long as he doesn’t look at you too long or ask too many questions or grunt an answer.

You find yourself praying, hoping to keep yourself from any further embarrassment, hoping to fight off that ache that seems to have made a home inside your belly. You cross your fingers at your sides and hope God’s got a private channel open for young girls with an insatiable desire for rugged, older men.

It feels like divine interference when you crest the hill of the street you're walking on to discover a run-down tattoo parlor. It still stands in perfect condition apart from the crumbling siding. Windows dirty but intact, door closed and stagnant.

A distraction will work.

And it looks sturdy enough to rest for the night. You know Joel will circle it a hundred times before he’s satisfied, but you think eventually he will be satisfied with it. “Didn’t people do piercings at tattoo shops, too?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, they did. At most of them, anyway.”

The thought seems to cross Joel’s mind the second you look at him. “Do you think I could…?”

“Maybe. Let’s see.”

You follow behind him as he approaches the building. He uses his knife to wedge the door open, and the two of you wait and listen for any approaching sound.

There’s nothing, though. Nothing but stale, empty air, and a whole lot of dust. You stick by his side for the first two rounds of inspection, as is your routine. But when he goes back in for a third, you decide to take a look around yourself.

In the front of the parlor, there’s a big, circular desk that sits atop the black and white tiles on the floor. The walls are painted maroon, and there’s a neon yellow leather couch near the door. You can only assume it’s where people would sit to wait, but the leather is smooth beneath your fingers even after all this time sitting unoccupied.

There are six smaller rooms behind the desk, each set up similarly with a blackout curtain and a medical-looking chair in the very center. In one of the rooms, there’s a binder flipped open, and as you begin to turn the pages you realize it’s an art portfolio.

For a moment, you wonder about the person who’d drawn all of these designs. How old were they when they drew them? Did they have tattoos themselves? Are they still alive, out there somewhere still creating art?

People in Jackson still get tattoos, you know. But not as often as you think it might have been before the outbreak. You trail your fingers lightly over the next page. It’s an image of a glass half-filled with amber liquid, some sloshing out of the side. Below it, the words Tennessee Whiskey are written in cursive.

“Should be good.” His voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. When you turn to face him, Joel’s got his rifle slung over one shoulder and he’s leaning against the doorframe, curtain pushed to the side. “Help me barricade the door?”

The two of you spend the next ten minutes moving furniture around the parlor, setting it all in front of the entrance. It’ll be harder to leave in the morning, you know. But you know, too, that a barricade like this means that Joel’s feeling too exhausted to spend another night pacing and you’re happy to give him the assurance of safety he needs.

When you’re done, he spreads out on the leather couch and you put your pack beside his. “Joel?”

He turns just his head to look at you.

You sift through the books in your pack and reach towards the bottom, pulling out the magazine that’s plagued your every waking thought. “I’m going to pierce my nipples, I think.”

For several seconds, he doesn’t say a word in response. He just swallows hard and when his eyes leave yours, trailing down your neck, he squeezes them closed before they reach your chest. But you know, you know, even without any words, that he’s thinking about it. That he’s thinking about you, forgetting his morals for a single second.

It isn’t until you stand to your feet and start towards the closed-off rooms, magazine in hand, that he finally speaks up.

“Be careful,” he says. “I don’t want you hurt.”

You smirk at him over your shoulder. “Is that the Mr. Miller version of saying, I care about your tits?”

He snorts incredulously, but a chuckle follows shortly after, erasing all of your earlier embarrassment.

It doesn’t take you long to find the materials you need. In one of the cases you pry open with your knife, you choose two matching silver barbells with dainty, white diamonds on each end. You use a cloth to clean off a tall mirror in one of the rooms, and there’s a bottle of isopropyl alcohol that you use to disinfect both a steel surgical tray and your hands.

You discard your shirt and bra, laying them in the chair in the middle of the room, and flip the magazine open to further observe the woman in the image. Thankfully, you find a drawer full of individually packaged needles and take out several just in case.

Sterilizing your hands with the alcohol again, you align the jewelry over your nipple, inspecting the placement and maneuvering it until you’re satisfied. You rip open one of the packaged needles with your teeth and sterilize it too for good measure.

Carefully, you orient the needle just right, inhale until your lungs ache, and when you exhale—

“God fucking dammit!”

You can hear his footsteps before the sound of his rifle, and then comes his voice. “You alright? What happened?”

Your exhale is somehow shakier than your hands. “I’m okay, Joel,” you say quickly. You knew it was going to hurt, you’re literally piercing a needle through your flesh. But you didn’t expect it to be so excruciating. It stings even now with the needle pushed through, completely still.

He stands in the doorway, rifle lowered and pointed at the ground. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him glance around the room, looking at everything but you. “Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn’t. This could be dangerous, you can wait until we’re back home and—”

“And have someone else pierce my nipples? Yeah, Joel, I’m good on all that.” You pick the jewelry up, sterilize it again, and breathe slowly as you push it through. This part, while uncomfortable, is a world easier than the piercing itself.

You twist on the tiny diamond ball at the end of the barbell and admire your work. It’s perfectly straight, much to your surprise. And though it’s just a small change, it makes you feel as entrancing as the woman in the magazine.

There’s no blood, which you take as a good sign. And as the seconds tick by the pain subsides and is replaced with a dull throbbing instead. It hurts, but it’s bearable. The only problem is that as you try to line up the second needle, your hands tremble too much to keep it straight.

Even though you try to take deep breaths, try to shake the tremors from your hand, nothing works. And you can’t just have one, can’t just leave this task unfinished, and so you gather your courage and turn fully towards him. “Joel? I need your help.”

You’ve never seen him quite like this, you think. There’s no flush to his face, no chagrin or hesitance or resistance. All of his morality seems to be replaced with a dark desire, a need unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

Immediately you know this is the Joel Miller he’s tried so hard to hide from you. Only glimpses of this terrifying man have slipped through the facade, each one smothered quickly by restraint.

Yet here he stands, hungry eyes swallowing you up, tracing the outline of the jewelry without remorse.

“I can’t…my hands are shaky. I need you to do the other one.”

His hands twitch at his sides. And even though you now know he longs to touch you just as much as you want to touch him, his words tell an entirely different story. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “It’s not…it’s not right. Shouldn’t even be seein’ you like this. Too…too young. Too sweet.”

The southern accent in his voice is thicker now than you’ve ever heard it. Deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. “Please, Mr. Miller.”

His eyes snap up to meet yours. He pins you with that intense stare of his and you suddenly can’t move, can’t breathe. Flickering flames gather low in your belly.

“I promise I won’t try anything. I’ll just stand here. I just need you to…to push the needle through. That’s all.”

It takes him a second, but he nods. “Alright…alright. I, uhm…okay. Yeah.” He nears you slowly and you feel crowded. You can smell the salt and sweat of his skin, can feel that warmth even though he doesn’t yet touch you.

You pour the alcohol over his hands and hand him another packaged needle. “Here,” you say. “Just do it as straight as you can, and once the needle’s in I can do the rest.”

Joel peels apart the packaging and takes the needle between his fingers. He discards the plastic and you can hear each of his ragged breaths echo in your ears. Slowly, experimentally, he reaches out and presses his fingertips just below your ribcage and it makes you moan.

He pulls away immediately as if he’d been burned by your skin. “You said you wouldn’t—”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Hold on.” You try again to catch your breath to no avail. “Let me close my eyes. I’m sorry.”

Joel nods, jaw feathering as he clenches his teeth. But you do as you say, closing your eyes and trying to convince yourself it’s not Joel touching you. It’s someone else. The same person who drew everything in that portfolio.

But when he does touch you again, his hands are warm and calloused and big and familiar. You know it’s Joel. Your Joel. The brooding man of few words. The too-good man who cares about you, who lets you sleep even though he never does, who gives you his water to guarantee you stay hydrated.

His hand moves upwards, palm pressed flat against your ribcage. It stops just below your breast as if he’s feeling the weight of it in his hand and you wonder if he can feel the hammering of your heart behind your sternum, too.

You don’t have time to think about it for long, though. Because his thumb slides across your nipple, hardening it into a peak, and all you can think about is the fact that he’s touching you. He’s touching you and you want more, want to feel him on every inch of your skin.

This time you’re able to hold back your moan, but only barely. It’s more like a whimper that gets caught in your throat instead. But he doesn’t pull away, and soon his other hand joins in. “Should I…uhm,” he clears his throat. “Should I count, or…?”

You shake your head. “No, no. Just…just do it. Please.” The words are desperate for a whole new reason. Your hands tremble even more at your sides.

The biting cold of the steel reaches you before you feel the pain. You try to breathe through it but the second one is somehow even worse and obscenities fall from your lips at the agony. It hurts so badly that you don’t even register as Joel slides the jewelry through and screws the diamond onto the barbell.

Ultimately, it’s his voice that cuts through the fog.

“Hey, hey. Shh. Hey, c’mon. Finished. Look at me, pretty girl. Open your eyes.” You do because that thick, southern drawl is more enticing than anything you’ve ever heard. You’d follow it anywhere, you think. Do anything it asks. “There you go. Atta girl.”

His words make your mouth water. You want to taste them. Joel’s hands are still on you, holding your hips, pressing into the exposed flesh. It’s all you can think about until he turns you away from him, forcing you to look into the mirror on the wall. “Oh my God.”

It surprises you a little just how much you love them. It makes you look powerful, like you are the one who belongs in a magazine.

“They’re perfect, Joel.”

“Did it hurt too bad?”

The question is so insane that it makes you laugh. “Are you kidding? It was awful. I don’t even know what to compare it to to try and explain it.”

He laughs too, a deep, throaty chuckle that brings a smile to your face. “Well, you have my sincere apologies, little lady.”

When you turn back to face him, you ask, “What do you think? Do they look good?”

You know you said you wouldn’t torture him, but the look on his face is so sweet that you can’t resist. “They’re real pretty,” he says. “They, uh…they suit you.”

“Think so?” You look up at him through your lashes, trying your damndest to look as desperate for him as you are. “Hurts a little,” you tell him, pressing your thumb gently over the center of your nipple, the one you’d pierced on your own. “Right here.”

He sees right through your false pretenses. You watch him swallow, watch his eyes darken. “Careful, little girl,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

The name makes you squirm beneath his catastrophic gaze, thighs pressing together. He catches the movement—and you realize you want to be anything but careful with this terrifying, powerful man. Of course, you don’t heed his warning. “Might help if you kiss it better, you know.”

“S’that right?” You nod and a sinful smirk pulls at the corners of his full lips. He leans down and you can feel the scruff of his beard brushing the side of your face. Against your ear, he whispers, “You don’t know what you’re askin’ for, sweetheart.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it, and yet you can’t fucking resist. You’ve never been able to resist him. “Then show me.”

And just like that, his resolve withers. The cord snaps and the good Joel you know vanishes into thin air, leaving nothing but this hungry, desperate man behind. He grabs your waist and hauls you up against him, legs wrapping around his hips on instinct.

Your chest presses against his but the pressure is bliss, fighting off both the ache in your breasts and the one between your legs. He swipes everything off the metal table in the corner. Alcohol and needles and portfolio all crashing to the floor.

Joel sets you atop it and his mouth hovers an inch above yours, breath fanning across your cheeks. “Last chance, little girl,” he says.

He’s giving you an out, you realize. One last opportunity to escape him. You lean up and press your lips tenderly to his instead.

It’s answer enough for him.

Joel’s mouth moves greedily against yours. One hand rests against the small of your back, pressing you against him, and the other holds the nape of your neck. His tongue slips into your mouth. He tastes like honey and whiskey and sunlight. You could drown in it, you think. But Joel doesn’t linger for long.

He trails open mouthed kisses down your neck, your chest—-and when he flicks his soft tongue across your nipple, your back arches and you forget how to breathe.

“Joel,” you say, voice needy and desperate. “Touch me. Please touch me.”

His hands flex against your skin, still holding himself back. You don't understand—can’t he feel how much you want it? Can’t he see it on your face, in your eyes? “I want to,” he admits.

You grind your hips against his and the sensation of the bulge in his jeans against your center has you shaking. “What’s stopping you?”

A self-deprecating laugh bubbles out of his throat. He presses his forehead against yours, kisses the tip of your nose gently. “You make me crazy, pretty girl.” His hand comes around your throat, cradling your face. With the rough pad of his thumb, he traces the outline of your lips and says, “You make me feel like I’m eighteen again.” His hand travels lower, down your neck, knuckles dragging between your breasts. “Like I’m some little boy who gets a hard-on over a bra strap.” Lower, down your belly, between your ribs. “Or these fuckin’ shorts, baby.”

Everything aches for him. Every cell in your body has been lit aflame beneath his touch, longing to feel his hands, his tongue, to feel all of him. “Joel,” you say. “Please.”

He kisses a trail that follows the path of his hand, but this time he stalls at your breasts. “Sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg,” he mutters against your skin. And then he’s kissing and sucking and biting marks into the softness of your breast, leaving proof that he was here, evidence of his affection. “If I touch you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you to,” you say. “ I think about it all the time.” Your head falls back, hips rolling against his, seeking out any sort of friction you can find. “God—I dream about it. I want you inside me.”

His eyes darken as he looks up at you.

A man of few words. This time it’s him who reaches for the metallic button. He pops it open in one smooth movement, tongue lapping over the metal barbell through your nipple. You can feel each pass over the sensitive flesh down to your toes.

He wriggles his hand into your shorts, deft fingers finding your clit easily. You let out a lewd moan at the commanding way he just takes —as if he’s right where he’s always supposed to be. Right where you want him, right where you’ve needed him for all these years.

Joel kisses a path across your sternum, mouth giving the same tender care to the opposite breast. He slides his fingers through your wetness, gathering your slick and using it to circle your clit. “M’gonna take care of her, sweetheart,” he says. “Gonna make her feel real good, s’that alright with you?”

His words are filthy and obscene and you love it. You’re nodding quickly and saying, “Yes, Joel, yes.”

A cold shiver passes through you as he rises back to his full height, towering over you when he takes a step back. “Let’s get these off,” he says. Joel helps you shimmy both your shorts and your panties down your legs until you’re sitting there in front of him completely naked. He’s still completely dressed and it makes you feel small and minuscule beneath the weight of his predatory stare.

He places both hands on your thighs and pushes them apart, spreading you open. And then he drops to his knees and lazily strokes his fingers through your wet heat. You can feel the chill of his breath against your clit and your fingers find the outgrown tendrils of dark hair on instinct, trying to pull him closer, wiggling your hips to the very edge of the table.

“Needy girl, hm?” He laughs softly. It’s not malicious but rather adoring, and you wonder how it is that someone so strong and authoritative can make you feel powerful and cherished in the same breath. “S’okay. I’ve got ya.”

And then his tongue is on you and it feels like heaven. So much better than you’d ever imagined, ever dreamed. His scruff scratches at the inside of your thighs as he slides his tongue through your pussy. Joel groans against you like this is more for him, and the vibration of the sound pulls staccato moans from your mouth.

He slips two fingers into you easily, encountering no resistance. You’re too wet, too eager to have him inside you. You whimper his name as he sucks your clit into his mouth, hands pulling tight in his hair. It feels so good it’s almost too much—but he seems to know what you can take more than you do.

Joel looks up at you from between your thighs and you can see the palpable hunger on his face. You think maybe he’s wanted this for longer than you, maybe he’s somehow been even more starved for this than you once thought.

You can feel your orgasm creep down your spine, inferno building and building, settling low in your belly. You try to tell him, to warn him—but then he hooks his fingers inside of you, pressing against that sweet spot and—

“Oh, God—God, fuck—Joel, I—!”

“S’alright, baby, go’head. Cum for me, oh—yeah, that’s it. There you go, sweetheart.” His voice is so gentle, a stark contrast to the assertive way he moves his hands, pulling from you everything your body can give. The southern accent is thick as he talks you through it. “Feels so much better now, huh? Y’look so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. So pretty when you’re all full’a me.”

Your thighs tremble even as you begin to come down, trying to catch your breath, holding onto his arms to ground yourself as he stands back to his feet, thick cords of muscle sturdy beneath your shaking hands. And he’s right—it does feel better now, but as he eases his fingers out of you and you watch him lick them clean, your pussy clenches at the sight. It’s better, it is… but when it comes to good and moral Joel Miller you are insatiable.

A deep, rumbling groan reverberates in his chest when you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. Your slick stains the bulge in his jeans, darkening the denim material. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, big hands running slowly up and down your smooth thighs. “Shouldn’t be doin’ this…shouldn’t be takin’ advantage of you. Such a little thing, don’t know what you want.”

The answer comes quickly. “You, Joel. I want you.”

You reach for his belt and he watches your nimble fingers undo it, pulling the leather through the metal fastening. He hisses when you reach into his jeans and pull him out.

He’s bigger than you thought, and wrapping your hand around him completely is a troubling task. You’re not sure he’ll even fit but it makes your mouth water, makes your swollen clit pulse with need. “Please.”

“I can’t, baby. Believe me, I want it, too, but I…you’re too good for me. Too—” He stops when you slide the head of his cock through your pussy, coating him in your slick. You watch the movement together and this time it’s Joel’s hands that shake. He curses under his breath, admiring the way he fits so perfectly.

“Just a little?” Your own voice is hardly recognizable in your own ears, needy and deprived. You slide his cock back up towards your clit and it catches at your entrance. You both gasp in tandem. You love Joel and all his goodness but right now you want the worst of him. You want all of him.

He nods and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Okay…okay,” he says to himself. “Just a little. You sure? You’re positive you want—?”

You line him up and shift your hips forward, words fading into nothingness. It’s just a little like you promised, but the stretch is so delicious you find yourself wanting more. More, always more—you think you could die without it.

Joel pushes in further, a little less than halfway, and then pulls out slowly. He groans and you feel like crying. His cock is covered in your wetness and when he pushes back in you think this just might be enough to make you cum a second time.

It’s filthy and obscene and you love it. You love him. He reaches down and circles your clit with his thumb, fucking you slowly, eyes locked on the place you’re joined. “You’re so big,” you whimper.

You can feel the tension in his shoulders and you do your damnedest to smooth it out with small, massaging motions. He touches you just right but you want it to feel good for him, too.

That heat of an orgasm begins to build again. A low, incessant thrum between your hips.

“I have to,” he mutters so softly you hardly hear him the first time. “I have to, baby. I’ve gotta feel you. I’ve gotta…” And then he eases his cock into you to the hilt without any warning, filling you so full it hurts. The invasion stings but your body adjusts quickly, making room for him in the same way your heart has. His head falls to the crook of your neck and you can feel him shudder as he breathes the word fuck into your skin.

“Oh my God—it’s too much, too much—!”

“You can take it, baby. C’mon, spread your legs wider. I know s’alot,” he praises, circling your clit a little faster now. Your slick drips down your thighs, into the dark hair between his hips. “You got it, sweetheart. See? There you go.”

He pulls out just to sink into you again. This time there’s less pain and more divinity and your nails dig into his shoulder through his flannel as you adjust to the size of him.

Joel uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you deep. He sets an unrelenting pace, hips grinding against yours with each thrust. It’s so much and you’re so full of him in all the best ways. When you moan into his mouth you can feel his lips turn up at the corners, a predatory grin saved just for you.

The sounds are filthy and echo in the room, an obscene symphony of devotion. You’d let him do anything right now—anything.

He picks up the pace, hips snapping against yours. All you can think about is how right this feels, how you were made for him, how well he fits inside you.

A low grunt filters through his teeth and he says, “Fuck, baby. You look so pretty. How’s it feel? Tell me. Use your words.”

“S’good,” you whimper in response. Your brain is mush and your thighs become a vise around his waist, pulling him in impossibly deeper. “So good, Joel, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m—I’m close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum again already, hm?” He pushes his palm against your belly, thumb still gently stroking your clit. And the pressure of it feels so intense you let out a whine of bliss. “Yeah, you are,” he whispers. “Can feel her squeezin’ me. S’alright, baby. Wanna feel it.”

His words send you tumbling over the edge of bliss, and he fucks you through it. Stars blind your vision and your ears fill with static. But you can hear Joel though, can hear him and feel him deep inside you through it all.

“Ohh, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl. Pretty little thing’s just fuckin’ dripping all over me, feels so good. You feel so good.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, his rhythm falters. You can feel his cock pulse inside of you as Joel falls off the precipice. His head rolls back and the muscles in his forearms flex around the prominent veins. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, and you know you’ll never see anything as beautiful as this big, powerful man weak for you.

He’s panting when he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss. Sweat dots his hairline and that flush on his neck certainly seems like it’s staying for a little while longer. He’s beautiful, you think. Crafted by the hands of God himself, made with imperfect grace.

When he looks up at you he smiles in the way he always does, like the two of you share a secret. And maybe now you do. A sinful, dirty secret that’s all yours. You laugh softly and he mirrors the sound, helping you back to your feet.

You hold his shoulders for balance as he helps you back into your shorts. And when he hands you your bra and t-shirt, you’re starkly reminded of the dull throb in your breasts and think better of it before putting them on. “I think they might be too tight. I’ll look around and see if I can…”

Before you finish the sentence, he’s unbuttoning his red flannel and tossing it to you. He wears a light brown tshirt underneath, the arms just a little too tight on his biceps. He looks so good that you want to take him between your legs again even with the sweet ache that lingers. “Here,” he says. “Take this.”

You do. He helps you with the buttons and it’s too big but gives your new body modifications room to breathe and heal. You ask him how it looks.

“Better on you,” is his short response.

When you begin to fall asleep on the yellow leather couch later that night, all wrapped up in his arms, Joel presses his lips to your forehead and says, “When we get home, I wanna read that book of yours. Carrie, was it?”

You shift at his side, turning your head up to look at him. “You’re not gonna wait till October, like I said?”

Joel shakes his head. “You got any idea how old I am, girl? I’ve got no time for waitin’ till October.” He’s quiet for several seconds. And then his voice is nothing but a whisper as he says, “No time waitin’ on this to be right in the eyes of others, either.”

And you can feel the heat behind his words, can almost hear the unspoken meaning. No time for waiting until you’re older, no time for waiting until the perfect moment. Your mouth pulls into a wide grin. “Are you asking to go steady with me, Mr. Miller?”

With a scoff, he runs his hand playfully down your face and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he says.

When he kisses you, you make a promise against his lips. “I’m yours, Joel.”

He doesn’t say much in the way of a reply, your big man of few words. But he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

It’s more than enough.

#joel miller #ao3 fanfic #pearlessance #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #ao3 writer #joel tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou #joel miller self insert #smut #fanfic #tlou fanfiction #fluff #jackson era joel

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astayinwonderland · 16 days

Text

Hot Summer Night | Song Mingi

pairing: mingi x f.reader

summary: mingi tries to think of you as his very good friend, but he can't deny how he truly feels about you

word count: 1.5k

+18 Minors DNI

warnings: fingering (f. receiving), female orgasm, mingi and reader are in a pool, suggestive thoughts and talk -- lmk if I forgot anything

Song Mingi has his eyes on you. He can’t really understand what happened. You are his good friend, that he knows, but in this particular night he wishes you were something more. You were going to be late to the party, something about school came up and you had to tend to that before showing up. Classic you. Such a good student, so responsible, so honest, so…pure.

It is a hot summer night, and your group of friends was invited to the pool party. The full moon is high in the sky, and the few guests are already drunk, eating, or very into that one rom-com San is making everyone watch. Mingi watches you say hello and slowly scans the room. Could you possibly be looking for him? He takes another sip of his drink, half of his body in the pool, perfect to cool off his steamy thoughts.

The only person accompanying him is Yeosang, the voice of reason. He sits comfortably on a beach chair as he watches Mingi follow you with his eyes like a predator. You can’t see him but he can see you through the glass doors.

“You should just tell her you know… how you feel…” Yeosang interrupts Mingi’s thoughts.

“No, it’s not like that. She just looks different today.”

“You do this every single time you have to admit you like her,” Yeosang chuckles.

Mingi rolls his eyes, he hates that Yeosang is right. The first time Mingi realised he liked you was last year when you were stressed about your finals and he agreed to help you study. He stayed up with you all night and when you accidentally fell asleep writing notes, he stayed up and finished the notes for you. Minig’s heart swelled every time he looked at you peacefully asleep. How could he disturb your angelic being?

After that, he tried to repress it as much as he could. You went out on a date? Mingi would provide encouraging words and wish you luck, however, he would secretly rejoice when things didn’t go as planned. What kind of friend does that?

Your eyes meet with his and you smile. Mingi feels he has been caught, but now you’re making your way outside. You move the sliding doors and step into the backyard, wearing your bathing suit and a translucent robe over it.

“Hey, Yeosang, is this man bothering you?” you joke.

“Not at all,” Yeosang stands to hug you.

Mingi is speechless. A million thoughts go through his brain and he can only smile at you awkwardly.

“I'll leave the two of you alone… I bet you have lots to talk about.” Without looking back, Yeosang returns to the house, ensuring he has closed the blinds behind the glass door.

“What did I miss?” you casually say, sitting at the pool edge while your legs enter the refreshing water.

“Nothing. Yeosang is just messing around,” Mingi tries to put some distance between the two of you, but you just scoot further down to look at him.

“Hey what’s up?” you tease, ruffling his hair.

“Not much… How was school?” a sweet smile. He was trying so hard not to give in, so hard not to jump out of that pool and kiss you.

“Ughhh… so tiring. I only gathered the energy to come because you told me you were here. I really need to relax,” you lean a little bit closer. “Tell me, big boy, does anything come to mind?”

Mingi swallows hard. Is this really happening?

“Uh… the pool is quite nice, actually,” he says, so you take your robe off and get in.

The water feels amazing, it’s true, but Mingi’s flushed cheeks and shocked face are even more impressive. You swim around a little, enjoying the cool sensation of the water on your skin. The little hairs on your back stand when the wind hits you. Mingi watches you and before his cock can catch up with his thoughts, he decides to move and play along. The two of you make an unspoken deal and decide to race each other. Mingi is fast, you can barely keep up with him, but somehow you beat him.

“Two out of three? The loser has to do what the winner says,” you reply breathlessly.

“Deal,” and so Mingi is back to himself. These are the interactions he is used to… friendly ones.

And so he picks up his pace in this second round. His long arms and legs helped him move effortlessly. Water splashed here and there, leaving you significantly behind. You are too late to hit the other side of the pool.

“Nice try,” he laughs.

You simply nod, because you know that cockiness is about to get erased from his face.

This time you inhale deeply. You make sure to focus when you take the impulse to swim, every muscle of your body giving all it has. You swim, fast and hard. As you bring your face out to get air you see Mingi had stopped swimming. You immediately stop.

“Hey! You okay? Mingi?”

“You win,” he says, his eyes searching for yours.

“What? Why? Not yet.”

“You win…” he moves and walks slowly towards you. “What would you want me to do?”

“Hug me?”

Mingi goes straight to your hips and not only hugs you but lifts you with him. With the water creating resistance, he spins you around, bringing laughter into the scene. Vibrations of his deep laugh tickled your belly and to be honest, further down south of your body. When he is about to put you down you wrap your legs around him.

“Is it okay if I do this?”

His eyebrows raise, his cheeks turn a lovely pink shade and you can’t help but wonder how pretty he would look under you.

“Yes…” he whispers. “Is it okay if I–”

His lips hover over yours, almost touching. He needs you to say it or else he will never believe it. Blood already coursing so fiercely on his erection.

“Kiss me.”

Your lips meet. He kisses you softly, slowly, taking in every little whimper you let out when your tongues meet. Mingi feels the heavens are rewarding him for some great deed he accomplished in a past life. Your hands go to his hair and you pull him even closer to you, as if that were possible. You feel the urge to be consumed by him, to be his. You kiss him as if his lips were covered in honey. He is sweet, he is addictive.

“Mmmm… wanna make you feel good,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Please do…”

Mingi knows what his priorities are, and that is your pleasure over his own.

He puts you back in the pool and corners you, shielding your whole body in his in case someone decides to come out through the glass doors.

His hands palm your throbbing cunt, only the thin layer of your swimsuit forbids direct contact. You kiss him, but this time it’s different. This time, you are hungry for him, for his touch, for his lips, for his deep voice telling you he wants you. Mingi pushes the fabric covering your wanting pussy, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. The cold water makes you shiver as you continue kissing him, moaning for him. Your lips reach his neck, and you bite. Hard enough to leave a red mark.

“Shit… I didn’t know this side of you,” and one of his fingers enters you. His thumb circles your clit as the cold water mixes with the sensation of his warm mouth once again on yours. Your hands now make their way to your breasts, playing with them. Nipples already hard from your arousal, you pinch them as Mingi adds a second finger into you. The pressure of the water heightens the sensation of ascending to the highest levels of pleasure you’ve ever known. With a flick of his wrist, he manages to angle his finger higher up your soaking cunt.

“Aaaahhh… ffff-ffffuuuck,” and you try to keep quiet by biting your bottom lip but it’s too late.

Broken moans leave your precious lips as Mingi kisses them and bites them. He tries to swallow every single moan until your body starts to tremble and your pussy clenches his fingers.

“Cum… cum,” he whispers.

And with one last thrust of his fingers, the knot in your stomach snaps, making your head lighter than air and your legs weak.

“Fuck.. Mingi,” is all you can say, and he catches you before you slip completely onto the water.

Mingi holds you with a smile on his face until your breathing comes back to normal.

“I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut up,” you smile. “I want to return the favour…”

“Hey! Are you two done? You better clean up that pool!” Wooyoung yells, his face barely peaking through the glass door.

You laugh embarrassed, hiding your face on Mingi’s chest.

“We’ll be out in a second!” Mingi yells back.

He cups your face in his hands and kisses your forehead.

“How about we continue the party at my place?”

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

a/n: This is pure ✨fiction✨

I uploaded this like a year ago and then it was taken down... idk. I hope you enjoy this. It is always fun to write about Mingi. Comment or dm me if you want to be included in the Ateez taglist.

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Ateez taglist: cursedeastern

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peachbibi · 1 month

Text

the one in which spencer didn’t tell you about meeting his ex

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: silly spencer, silly reader but happy ending because i’m too soft for this

a/n: i just saw that video with mgg and his ex and got sad. honestly thought i just want him to be happy with whomever

“I don’t think that’s fair”

You stand in front of your boyfriend, trying your best to understand why he acts the way he does. Although, it’s been almost twenty minutes since you started this conversation. Annoyance mixed with pain and confusion are spreading through your chest like ivy.

“What do you mean it’s not fair?”

Spencer looks bewildered. As if you aren’t speaking the same language he does. As if he doesn’t understand how his actions make you feel.

“I mean what I said, Spencer. You are not being fair” you grit through your teeth.

Deep breaths. You try to look at the clouds through the kitchen window; soft and white they are drifting in the sky. Look anywhere but his face because you are sure you will start crying pretty soon.

“I just went for a coffee with friends”

You leave an exasperated sigh, almost choking on it. The way he said it so nonchalantly and simply it breaks your heart. Your eyes search his face for any sign of delusion.

“She is not just a friend Spencer. You dated for three years. You wanted to propose!”

“I didn’t plan to see her that day. She just joined us for a coffee. I don’t understand why you are getting so angry about it.”

Because he didn’t tell you. Because he came home after work acting as if nothing happened. Because you love him so much sometimes it scares you. The fact that he loved his ex enough to propose makes something small and ugly churn at the pit of your stomach.

“Im not angry. Im upset because I found out about this from Penelope and-”

“Your face is flushed, nostrils flared and you are clenching your fists. You are clearly angry”

“Don’t profile me!”

“Technically, it’s not profiling since you are not a criminal and you didn’t commit any-“

He’s rambling with his brows stitched together. His hands are moving as if he’s explaining something so simple only you can’t understand. You can hear ringing in your ears. It’s getting harder to breathe.

“No, stop it. I can’t talk to you anymore”

You dismiss him and bolt towards your bedroom. His bedroom. You shut the door and let your body collapse on the floor. With your knees pressed tight to your chest and your back pressed to the wooden floor you finally let yourself cry. For some reason, it was always difficult for you to cry in front of Spencer when you were arguing. You would feel defeated. Now, hot tears are streaming down your cheeks as you think about the conversation you had earlier in your relationship. How he was in love with his ex girlfriend and how he even bought the ring. How she broke his heart by the phone. How he was scared to fall in love again because of how damaging the whole experience was for him. How he struggled to open up. You wipe your wet face when you hear a hesitant knock.

“Hey…Can we talk?”

Spencer’s voice is soft and full of warmth and you just hate the way he affects you. The way he makes your heart jump out of your chest, beat rhythmically with his own, squeeze so tightly it hurts.

“Depends” you sniff.

“I apologise”

You stand up and open the door. Even though you try your best to look cold and distant, you look wounded and lost.

“Oh, angel..”

You can see his hand twitch at the sight of your red eyes.

“You should have told me”

“I know. I panicked. I honestly didn’t know she would want to sit with us and then Derek-“

“But you understand why I’m upset?”

His eyes are big brown circles. Like a deer in the field he is watching you.

“I think?”

“Spence, you were so in love you wanted to get married. The fact that you tried to hide that you met up with her is so…painful”

Vision is getting blurry and you start blinking rapidly. Spencer just stares at you. Silence is so loud you can’t bear it.

“You think I have feelings for her”

He finally speaks. You don’t say anything because you’re not sure. Do you? Your gaze falls to the ground. Spencer makes a step towards you. His big palms reach behind your back. Your face is pressed to his chest and you feel helpless.

“I’m so sorry, angel. There’s no one else but you. You know that. I need you to know that. I love you so much. Please, tell me you know that. The only reason I didn’t tell you is because I didn’t want to upset you and I understand now that I was wrong and stupid and you deserved to know”

Spencer kisses the top of your head and rubs your back.

“Nothing happened. I swear. Derek and Penelope were there and they can confirm that. She just joined us for a coffee and left. Please, forgive me for not telling you straight away”

He pulls away to take a look at you. You know he is telling the truth. You know that there’s a part of you that feels a little insecure but that’s not his fault. Spencer never did anything to make you doubt him. He was always so caring and loving and attentive that it’s easy for you to believe that he just wanted to protect your feelings.

“You are the only one I want”

He kisses your forehead and you melt. More tears are pouring down your face but mostly because of how overwhelmed you feel. How much love and even relief you feel after his words. Spencer brushes the tears away with his thumbs.

“Please, don’t cry. I don’t know what else to do. If you want me-“

“No, I believe you. I just…I love you so much it’s scary sometimes”

Spencer smiles and plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I know exactly how you feel”

You pull him into another kiss. A more sensual one. The desperation and need to feel him right now is so intense you just want to drown in him. Good thing that he indulges you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid prompt #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst

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twice-inamillion · 3 months

Text

The Company

Eaten Bunny

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, orgasm, creampie, belly bulging, whining, rough sex, ass spanking, sex filming)

Chapter 14

1642 Words

(Nayeon offers her body to the CEO after saving her and her mother. As a grateful CEO, you take her offer and use her body, not realizing it is also Nayeon’s first time.)

You can't help but grin at your work; Nayeon is an utter mess. She randomly twitches from her last orgasm and is out of breath from the stimulation.

“Please, no more. My body hurts.”

“We're just getting started.”

She tries to lift her head and says, “What? It's not done yet?”

“Of course not; this was just an appetizer.”

Nayeon, with no energy, crashes back onto the couch and rethinks her offer.

Suddenly, she yells as you pick her up and carry her towards one of the rooms. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“The main event, obviously.”

“Wait, now?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me rest a bit.”

Nayeon stares at the wall, trying to muster up some energy as she tries to get over her last orgasm.

You're excited to fuck another girl, especially Nayeon. You remember the positive reviews she has gotten from many of the trainers, and getting a chance to fuck her this easily is a blessing.

You take off all your clothes and walk towards Nayeon who is laying on the bed, “Ready?”

She struggles to lift her head but does so with the little energy she has, “Wait, please.” You spread her legs open enough to get a full view of her swollen cunt.

With your cock in your right, you drop it on top of Nayeon's cunt and rub it against her lips. “Dang Nayeon, you have some nice tender lips.” You realize you won't need lube by how wet she is and coat your member with her nectar.

Nayeon watches as you press your cock in between her swollen lips, her heart begins to beat faster and faster as she realizes what's going to occur.

”You said you want to show your appreciation to me, right?” as you grab nayeon by her chin. She nods, “Yeah, I do.”

”Then show it to me.”

You climb on the bed and rest your body against the pillows. Nayeon notices your smug look and understands what you want her to do. She musters up the energy and climbs on top of you. She grabs your semi-limp cock with her large hands and begins to slowly stroke your cock.

Little by little, your cock wakes up from its nap and stands strong and proud, really to put in some work. Nayeon realizes that it might be too big for her to handle, but she knows she can’t go back, not after what you did for her and her mother.

She lifts herself up and hovers just a few millimeters away from your length. She looks directly into your eyes as she lowers her body into your cock.

You watch her reaction change as she splits herself open and tries to adjust herself to the first few inches when her hand splits, causing her to fall onto your cock in one go.

Nayeon screams in pain, her eyes watery as she takes your whole length. She tries to pull herself out, agonizing in pain, and sees your cock covered in a thin coat of blood. “Ahh, it hurts!”

You see Nayeon panic, squirming around, not knowing what to do. You grab her hand and say, “Nayeon, it’s okay. Look at me; it's going to be okay.”

Nayeon, who is still in pain, nods and grips onto your hand tightly. “I didn’t know you were a virgin. Thank you for giving your first time to me, now I’ll take it from here” and flip her over.

Now, in a mating press, you slowly begin to thrust inside of her newly deflowered cunt, trying to mold it into your shape. She holds your hand tightly and looks into each other’s eyes, “Oppa, it… it hurts so much. I can’t do it, I’m going to break.”

” It will only hurt for a bit longer; just bear it, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you.”

With your free remaining hand, you pull her in closer and increase the strength of your thrust. You try to get her adjusted to your length as quickly as possible, even if it means her suffering for a bit longer.

“Oppa, you’re breaking me; my insides feel like they are going to split open; please, I can’t.”

”Just a bit more; your body is just trying to get used to it, just hold on; just?”

Nayeon closes one eye and bites her lip, wanting to stop herself from screaming. She sees her belly bulge every time you thrust your cock inside of her, which scares her, not knowing if you’re going to break her.

On the other hand, you’re met with Nayeon’s tight walls. It’s trying to resist you as much as possible, which makes it painful for Nayeon, but you prefer it that way. The more you see her struggle, the more it turns you on.

“Fuck Nayeon, you’re so tight! It feels so good!”

“I feel good?”

”Yeah, I love the way you wrap yourself around my cock.”

”Ummm, then I don’t mind if you go harder.”

”Are you sure?”

”Yeah, I want you to feel good.”

”But it might hurt a bit more.”

”It’s okay; it doesn’t hurt as much now; I can take it.”

With Nayeon’s approval, you pull out your cock, covered in her reddish juices, and slap it against her cunt before putting it back inside.

“Oh fuck” yelps Nayeon when your cock reaches the end of her womb. She tries to mask her expression and just focuses on the way you smile every time you hit her womb.

You feel hotness building up in your core, and let Nayeon know you're about to cum. Surprised by your comment, she doesn’t know what to do and just says, “Oppa, cum if you want.”

“Then, I’ll cum inside of you.”

“Wait, inside…?”

“I’m going to fill your freshly fucked womb with my cum, so take it all!” You grab Nayeon’s hips and put your weight on her thighs, trying to go as deep as you can.

Nayeon feels a hot sensation of cum shooting inside of her, covering her untainted womb, “So full!”

“What do you think?”

”It’s so warm.”

Nayeon watches as you pull out your cock from her cunt and sees a large amount of cum ooze onto the sheets. Curious, she presses her stomach, making more of your batter come pouring out of her. Tired, she lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling and taking in what she just did.

It is then that she realizes what her mother has always mentioned before reluctantly letting her go training as an idol, “If you’re going to have sex, make sure you use protection.”

”I need to use the restroom,” and she makes her way towards the end of the bed, trying to get herself cleaned up. She then feels you grab her leg and says, “I’m not done yet.”

You grab her by the waist, push her down, and get behind her. “Who said you can go?”

“I just need to use the rest…” and isn’t able to complete her sentence. She then feels the tip of your cock press against her entrance, and you put your whole weight on her. She groans as she takes your length in one go, “Oppa, not so rough.”

”This is rough,” and give her a hard thrust, which makes her choke up from the sudden movement.

“Ah! Ahh… hmmm!”

Nayeon now enjoys the way your cock scrapes against her walls, even when it hits the back of her uterus. “Oppa, rougher… ahh.”

”Like this?” Slapping her ass. Nayeon yelps, “Ahh, that hurts!”

You slap her ass again, but with additional force, making her cheeks ripple. Nayeon bites onto the bedsheet as you continue to spank and fuck her from behind. “I’m going to make you into my toy, Nayeon; what do you say?”

There’s no response from Nayeon, and notice that she’s grabbing onto the bedsheets. If she wants to play it that way, you can do it too. You continue to slap her ass until it’s completely red. Nayeon can’t hold anymore; she’s at her limit and lets go of the bedding, “Okay, I’ll be your toy; just don’t slap my butt anymore; it hurts so much.”

”No, you didn’t answer when I asked you the first time,” and continue to slap her until you reach your peak once more. ”Tell me, where do you want me to cum?”

Nayeon, at first, is hesitant to respond but realizes that this might be the only chance to stop you from spanking her. She says, “Inside me.”

”Be more specific.”

“Please… please cum inside me.”

”Be specific.”

”In my cunt. Please cum inside me, my cunt you just deflowered. Breed me, please!”

”That’s my girl.”

Just like that, you give her one last thrust and fill her womb full with cum. The amount of cum you pump inside of her, causing her belly to bulge as if she was pregnant.

Nayeon, now exhausted, becomes limp, laying on the bed like a used onahole. You get up, head to the drawer, and get your camera to photograph your latest work. “Nayeon, smile.”

Nayeon gives a faint smile as you take multiple pictures with the bed and her lower region covered in cum.

“I’m going to take a shower; you can join if you want.”

”Hmm… okay.”

She eventually gets up, goes to the drawer, and sees your phone light up with a message that says, “Video successfully uploaded to the cloud name, XIDOLS, file: “IM NAYEON_01,” realizing she’s not the only one.

#twice smut #kpop smut #male reader #nayeon smut #twice nayeon #girl idol smut #reader x idol #kpop idol smut #idol smut #smut reader #TM smut #the company series #the company

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souliebird · 2 months

Text

[[and then I met you || Ch. 25]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

It is a beautiful Sunday morning at the Bronx Zoo - the sun is shining, the weather is warm, and there is hardly a crowd to speak of. Tourist season is over, and the school year has just started, so all the locals who would be here with their kids are otherwise preoccupied. Navigating through the pathways has been a breeze and there has been no one to block your view of the animals.

Another perk from the lack of patrons is the opportunity for a unique interaction at one of the exhibits Minnie was the most excited to visit.

“You has…you have very pretty fur,” Mouse whispers to the massive lowland gorilla that is mere inches from her face. There is a thick glass barrier between them, but you can’t help but feel a little bit nervous, especially with how the great ape has her full attention on your daughter. Large soulful eyes are focused on your little one as she gives compliment after toddler compliment.

“It's a lot of colors and it looks really really soft,” Minnie continues on, nose practically smooshed flat against the glass. “I bets you gotta brush it lots. Mommy brushes my hair, but I can do it myself. Like a Big Girl.”

The gorilla responds by chewing on some leaves that she has in her hands. It is what she has been doing since she came down from the trees to sit right in front of you five minutes ago. This, of course, doesn’t deter Minnie at all and she asks, “Does your Mommy brush your hair, too?”

As she has her imaginary conversation, you steal a glance at Matt.

After you learned about his senses, you thought joining you at the zoo would be torture for him. Even though the exhibits are kept clean, you know they must smell awful and there are loud birds screeching everywhere. It is completely different from the city noises he must be used to, and you even packed ear plugs and ibuprofen for if it became too much, but to your surprise, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Minnie has taken on her role as his Guide, excitedly explaining what each animal is and what they look like, to the best of her abilities - making you oh so proud. You’ve noticed that as your daughter takes in the sights, Matt will tilt his head minutely - his tell that he is intently listening to something. Occasionally, he’s asked a question - usually pointing to an animal Minnie did not describe and asking what it is. You’ve found lots of hidden creatures that way.

You cannot imagine what inputs he must be receiving from the gorilla in front of him. You know humans and great apes are closely related, but how does that come across to Matt? The smell must be different, but is he able to distinguish between her heartbeat and the heartbeat of someone observing her? Do her lungs sound human?

Can he tell if she’s sick or well taken care of? Is that something he can determine in an animal he has no history with?

He must sense you looking at him because he tilts his head towards you and grins. Your heart squeezes in your chest and your stomach does a sort of funny flip.

He is so handsome and charming, and you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You weren’t prepared to get into a physical relationship with Matt, but you don’t want to roll back on it.

You like how touchy he has been all morning. It hasn’t been anything obscene or inappropriate, but his hand has found its way around your waist more than once. On the subway, standing in line, or even just watching the animals, if you were next to him, he’d wrap you up and pull you a little closer. His hand would rub up and down your side and each time you’d feel like a little picture-perfect family on an outing.

You haven’t kissed in front of Minnie, but you have both been sneaking them in - when you woke up, when you were making breakfast, when Mouse was preoccupied getting ready.

You feel giddy and like you belong in a teen romance movie. This is something you haven’t had in such a long time - or ever really - and you don’t want to ruin it by overthinking.

You made a deal with yourself that morning - you were going to enjoy your trip to the zoo with your family and you were not going to overanalyze sleeping with Matt. It will be a tomorrow problem.

Right now, you are going to soak in all the goodness that is happening - including the pleasant ache in your core from getting thoroughly fucked.

You break yourself out of your own head and take a small step, so you are properly beside Matt. You reach up and wrap your arm around his bicep, leaning into him a little as you ask, “Who would win in a fight - you or the gorilla?”

“Oh, the gorilla,” he whispers back. “She’s all muscle and teeth. One good whack would easily break bone and even I’ve heard the stories about angry primates. I’m not that reckless.”

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much, then you lightly squeeze his arm and tease, “Exactly how reckless are you?”

You don’t realize the innuendo until the words leave your lips and then you can’t take it back. Matt’s grin only grows, and he ducks just slightly so he can nuzzle into your ear to purr, “would you like to find out?”

Your face heats up and you have to hide your face in his shoulder, so you don’t die from absolute embarrassment. He gently pulls his arm from your grasp so he can instead wrap it around you and hold you firm against him. He rocks you slightly and you conclude that yes, Matt is very much enjoying his time out at the zoo.

In front of you, the gorilla stuffs the last of her leaves in her mouth, chewing slowly as Minnie babbles away about hair care.

“..and if you braids it, it makes it super-duper wavy after,” she wisely tells her new friend, “You could be really poofy. Like a flower.” She pauses, then you watch her as she watches the great ape stand back up and start to walk away. You expect her to be sad, but instead, your sweet girl just calls out, “Okay, bye-bye, I love you!” before whirling around to beam up at you.

“Can we go see the mices now?” she asks, all sunshine and rainbows.

To your great amusement, Minnie is dead set on following the plan she made. She only wants to visit certain animals and she must see them in a certain sequence. She brought the map of the zoo you bought her all those months ago - the one she’s drawn all over and has practically memorized - and they are your marching orders. You and Matt are more than happy to follow her lead - especially because she does not want to see any of the birds, which saves you a lot of walking.

“Let’s go to the Mouse House,” Matt agrees.

You have to pull away from him to be able to walk and your little Mouse goes right for your hand so she can hold it. She has been extra good all day about holding your hand and staying by your side - loudly saying she’s a Big Girl and can follow all the rules. You’ve been very impressed with her determination and definitely plan to reward her for her behavior.

Matt falls into line beside you as you begin to lead the way, lightly grabbing at your elbow. You feel a tad bad for taking up so much space on the path, but luckily there is no one around.

“What did you think of the gorillas?” you ask as you make your way to the next exhibit.

“They’re amazing!” Mouse says with the biggest little grin, “She was really big and pretty and soft and went…she went,” she proceeds to make soft little grunts like you imagine a monkey would make, but you didn’t hear the gorilla make any noises beyond chewing.

“She really liked you, huh?” Matt teases with a little hum, his own smile as large as his daughter’s.

“She did!” Minnie absolutely preens, “She’s my favorite!”

Every animal has been her favorite, but you do think, for the moment, the gorilla does take the cake.

“You’re favorite, huh?” You muse, “I don’t know, I think the tiger was really cool.” The cat had been much larger and vibrantly colored than you expected, and you had been a little bit starstruck by the apex predator. You might just see if there are any tiger shirts in the gift shop.

“He was sleepy!” Minnie proclaims, and it is true - the tiger was enjoying a midmorning snooze.

“What about you, Matt, who has been your favorite?”

He makes a show of tilting his head back and forth as he thinks, “My favorite? I liked the elephants - I didn’t expect them to be that large and using their noses like that is…unique.”

“It’s called their trunk!” Mouse eagerly tells her father, repeating what the zookeeper told you. “They can use it…to… to …to… grab things and drink water!” To emphasize her point, she raises her free arm up to her face and mimics an elephant’s trunk waving around.

“That is impressive,” he says, “can you do that with your nose?”

Minnie halts, then screws up her face to try to wiggle her nose. She purses her lips and pushes them around, but she does not succeed in independently moving her cute little nose. She does not give up right away, proceeding with multiple attempts before declaring rather cheerily, “Nope!”

You both laugh at your daughter’s antics as you start walking again. As you get closer to your destination, your little one gets more and more excited - she takes bigger steps, and you can tell she wants to run towards the building.

At first, she thought one giant mouse lived in the Mouse House, but you explained it held lots of little houses for different types of rodents. Now, you think, she is determined to make sure all her tiny brethren are happy in their homes. She takes her role as Mouse Princess very seriously, after all.

Like the Congo Forest, the Mouse House has a scarce population of humans. You let go of your daughter’s hand once in the darkness of the building so she can run up to view the first set of new friends. Once she is thoroughly distracted and talking to the little creatures, Matt moves.

He lets go of your arm to slip behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You rub at his forearm as you pull your phone out - you don’t want to miss any cute moments of Minnie with her subjects. As you bring up the camera app, Matt nuzzles at your neck, placing a sweet kiss there.

“Good day, so far?” He asks against you, and you can’t help but smile and duck your head a little. You aren’t used to affection, let alone public affection, and his attention makes you a bit dizzy.

“So far, so good,” you whisper in response. To distract yourself from how solid Matt is against your back and how he’s practically wrapped around you, you start tapping at your phone to get it to focus in the low light. “Are you having a good time?”

He hums into your skin, then gives another kiss, “the best time. Doesn’t smell nearly as bad as I thought it would and the animals seem well taken care of.”

“It’s AZA accredited,” you instantly chime, and he huffs against you. You did so much research about the zoo beforehand, so that you could answer any questions Minnie had. So far, she’s had zero.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You angle your phone to get a picture of Minnie and the enclosure she’s looking into, and whisper back, “It’s like the board that makes sure the zoos are humane and everything is done properly.”

He hums again, then buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You try to not shiver, but you do end up pressing back into his hold as you watch your daughter. You fall into a pleasant silence, swaying slightly in Matt’s arms, as Minnie moves between the different displays. She has no apparent interest in learning the types of animals she’s looking at - she goes right into talking to them. When she gets a little too far away, you gently guide Matt down the hallway, all while he stays wrapped around you.

“I like your feetsies,” Mouse tells an elephant shrew, and you turn on your camera to record her interrogate the little creature. “How many toes do you have? I can…I see…I see three toes. Do you have three toes? I gots five. But they go in shoes. You don’t haves shoes. Where are your shoes?”

You and Matt follow Minnie all through the Mouse House for almost thirty minutes. You let her take her time - you are in no rush to go back out into the heat, and you want her to not only enjoy herself, but tire herself out. She’ll get a burst of energy after lunch, but by the time you leave for the day, you hope to be a zonked-out toddler.

At the last of the exhibits, Matt gently nips at your throat before mumbling against it, “I have a surprise after this.”

You have no idea what he could possibly have up his sleeve, but whatever it is, it is making him start to grin and get a bit of cockiness to his voice. So, to tease him right back, you play dumb.

“After this?”

“After the Mouse House,” he confirms, squeezing you and rocking you in place. You start to smile at his teasing and let yourself enjoy it.

You hum, then begin to trace your fingers over one of the hands on your hips as you question, “A surprise? After the Mouse House?”

“A surprise after the Mouse House.”

That, of course, gets Mouse’s attention. She whirls around, eyes going wide with toddler excitement as she asks, “A surprise?”

“After the Mouse House,” Matt repeats, a mix of pride and smugness in his words. You can tell he is enjoying this interaction and that funny feeling in your heart and stomach return.

“Is it a pony?!”

You pull away from Matt just as he starts to laugh, and as you do Minnie hurries over to take your place. He scoops her up into her arms, and with all the fondness in the world, tells her, “No, it’s not a pony.”

She dramatically flops over his shoulders with a big pout, then, like it was all a joke, hurriedly moves to hug him around his neck and with pure toddler innocence tell him, “You’re better than a pony!”

Always ready for their sweet moments, you snap multiple pictures as Matt hugs his daughter back tightly and you just barely hear him whisper back, “I think you’re better than a pony, too.”

As always, it takes him a few moments to release Minnie and set her back down. She instantly latches onto his hand and begins to shake it vigorously, “I wanna know the surprise!”

Matt is quick to concede to her demands, “Okay, okay, sweetheart. Let’s go to the surprise.”

You put your phone back into your purse so you can slip over to the pair and offer your arm to Matt. He takes it just above your elbow, and you start towards the exit of the Mouse House, Minnie skipping along on the other side of Matt.

You’ve not walked with Matt before where he is the one to lead you, but you are sure to be in step with him, so no one takes a second look. His cane is folded up and tucked into your purse, so you don’t think anyone would guess he is blind just by looking at him, but your anxiety tells you someone is always watching and one little slip up will have people questioning you.

Once out in the sunshine, Matt directs you back towards the gorillas again. You are confused about what could possibly be back that way that you don’t already know about, but you trust him.

“For your surprise,” he says to Minnie as you walk, “you have to be quiet, okay? We can't be loud and attract other people because this surprise is a secret.”

That has you even more curious about what could possibly be going on, but you focus on your daughter’s reaction to the request. You know she knows what a secret is, but you don’t remember if you’ve ever asked her to keep a secret before.

Mouse’s free hand goes into her mouth as she thinks over Matt’s request, and you try to not gag. Her fingers must be covered in all sorts of germs, and you should have been more on top of sanitizing them. A nice lesson in hindsight.

Moments later, she drops her hand, and she looks up to Matt and squints suspiciously, “can Mommy know the secret?”

Pride streaks through you at her question and you might get a little bit teary eyed. She never fails to amaze you with how her mind works and what information she takes in. The fact she’s aware she shouldn’t keep secrets from you is probably the highlight of your week - Matt eating you out included.

“Of course, Mommy can know the secret,” Matt tells her instantly, “We should not keep any secrets from Mommy. It’s important she knows everything so she can keep us safe and happy.”

As he says that, he squeezes your arm a little and you know he is talking about himself as well. You remember all the times he’s told you he doesn’t want to keep anything from you, and you know he’s telling the truth. He’s been very open with you about everything, even if it has taken some time for everything to rise to the surface. You don’t blame him for that at all - the things he keeps close to the chest are pretty important and you more than understand him not telling you on day one.

But he did tell you, and he has been honest about not being ready to divulge everything just yet, and that is what matters.

“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Minnie mimics and you have a feeling that is going to be added to her repeated phrases.

“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Matt repeats, then adds, “Can we be quiet, though, so other people don’t know?”

Mouse nods and you have a feeling that whatever Matt has planned is going to get her extremely worked up.

You end up in a very secluded inlet, away from the main path, surrounded by trees, and part of you wonders if you are meant to be able to come to this spot. There is no one else around and you don’t know what sort of surprise Matt could possibly have that requires you to come here.

Your questions are answered only seconds later, when a friendly voice comes from above you.

“Hi, there!”

You jerk your head up, and hanging there upside down from a tree, is Spider-Man.

Your daughter loses her fucking mind.

It’s like it is in slow motion - Minnie gasps with her whole body before dropping Matt’s hand. She turns to latch onto his pants, instead, and begins to pull on them over and over with enough force you think she’ll rip them. You don’t know if she remembers that she’s supposed to be quiet or if she’s so excited she can no longer vocalize, but she starts to whisper-scream.

“Daddy, Daddy! It’s Spidey-Man! It’s Spidey-Man!!!”

You try to not go slack-jaw in your own amazement as the vigilante lets go of his web and drops to the ground right in front of your daughter, doing a backflip in the process.

“That’s me!” Spider-Man declares, and he sounds way younger than you thought he would. “I heard it was your birthday, so I had to come and say ‘Hi’!”

You rip your eyes away from the hero to stare at Matt and he looks like he is trying to not look smug as hell. You have no idea how he pulled this off - this is the real Spider-Man. The fake ones can’t hang from webs and sneak into zoos.

Does he work with Spider-Man when he’s out as Daredevil? And did he actually request for the man to come say Happy Birthday to Minnie? Does that mean he knows who Spider-Man is behind the mask? And vice versa?

“It’s my birthday!” Minnie chokes out and she sounds like she is about to start crying. You know she loves the hero, but you did not think he would get such an intense reaction. You turn your gaze back to her, your own excitement growing in your belly.

“Happy Birthday, Minnie!” Spider-Man tells her in the cheeriest voice, before crouching down and throwing open his arms, “Do you want a hug?”

He barely finishes getting the words out before Mouse is letting go of Matt to launch herself at him. He wraps her up in a hug and she just clings on. You want so badly to take a picture, but you respect that this is a secret meeting just for your baby.

You’ll just have to commit every moment to memory.

Matt has let go of your arm, so you turn so you can grab onto his bicep again. You lean against him and let yourself grin like an idiot as you watch your daughter with her hero.

“Your Dad told me that you’re really smart and like to learn new things,” Spider-Man says to the top of Mouse’s head. You wonder exactly how much information about your family was exchanged, but that’s something you can review later.

Minnie just barely nods against the man’s chest, and you can hear her start to talk, muffled against his suit, “I knows my ABCs and how to count ands I can do one plus one.”

“You can do one plus one?!”

“Elmo taughts me,” she explains in the sweetest and watery voice, “Its two.”

“That’s amazing,” Spider-Man tells her, “Keep watching Sesame Street, it has a lot of good lessons. Do you like Beaker and Dr. Honeydew from the Muppets? They were my favorites when I was little like you.”

Minnie squirms against Spider-Man and you expect her to pull away, but apparently, she is just getting more comfortable, because she nuzzles back into him and goes, “Meep, Meep.”

You laugh into Matt’s shoulder, overwhelmed with how sweet she is. Matt gently pulls his arm from you so he can yet again hold you close. You hand moves from his bicep to his chest, and you curl your fingers into his shirt, over his heart. You can’t tear your eyes away from your daughter to look at his expression, but you have a feeling it is a lot like yours.

“That’s right, ‘meep, meep, meep, MEEP,’” the vigilante does a good Beaker impression, causing a round of giggles. “Well, because you are so smart and your Dad is a pretty cool guy, I got you something I think Dr. Honeydew and Beaker would approve of.”

Your eyes go wide at the statement, and you cannot believe what you heard - Spider-Man, the famous New York vigilante, got your daughter a birthday gift?

Apparently, Minnie can’t believe it either, as she pulls back just a little so she can look up at him, and asks in the tiniest voice, “A presents?”

“A present!” He explains, then, so fast you barely see him do it, he flicks out a hand and shoots a string of web up into the trees where he has been waiting. Then he pulls and a box comes flying back at him. He expertly catches it, and you can see it is wrapped in blue wrapping paper that has white sparkly snowflakes all over it - clearly Christmas themed. You don’t think Minnie cares at all, because when it is held out to her, her little brown eyes just get so big.

“For you! Happy Birthday!”

Mouse looks back at you for permission and you quickly nod. She delicately takes the gift and once it is fully in her grasp, tears into it. As soon as it is free of its prison, she holds it up in triumph, “A mibo-scope!”

It is indeed a miniature microscope - at least that is the main picture on the box. You think it is one of those ‘Baby’s first science kit’ type things and you just know you are going to spend so much time over the next week hunched over it with Minnie.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Matt gently prompts and she instantly throws herself back into Spider-Man’s chest. She drops the box in the process, but the vigilante has lightning-fast reflexes and catches it before it hits the ground. He sets it aside before properly hugging your daughter again.

“Thank you, Spidey-Man! You’re…you’re the bestest! Bestest-bestest! I loves you!”

“Aw, thank you! I love you, too!”

There is a gentle pressure to the top of your head, and you realize Matt has turned his so he can press his lips there. You shuffle even closer to him, tightening your grip on his shirt.

As you watch your daughter hug her favorite super-hero, you realize you have never been this happy before in your life. Everything in this moment is perfect. You would not change anything at all, and you do not think you would change anything that lead up to this moment of time. You wish and pray you could trap the day in a bottle and hold it in your heart forever.

You and your precious Winifred Love are blessed that not only is Matthew Murdock a good man, but he is also a good father.

---

a/n:

And that concludes Season 1 of 'and then I met you'!

Next, we are onto Season 2 and diving into the Sokovia Accords and how it will affect our perfect little family.

Special thanks to @ebathory997 for their help with information about the Bronx Zoo and special shout out to @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @she-likesorchids and @loveroftoomanyfandoms for all of their amazing support <3 You guys are amazing and I could not have written any of this without y'all.

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal

@allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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haruchuiyo · 4 months

Text

struck with love

the duke and you. will the relationship blossom into something more than just a friendship?

content: SUGGESTIVE! + regency au + duke!blade + duke’s daughter!reader (you’re not blades daughter!) + fem!reader + blade gets called yingxing + pining + second chance + heartbreak + groveling + make out + loads of kisses + fluff + jing yuan and the princess cameo (same characters from my jing yuan fic) + happy ending!!

word count: 11k (I got to into it but it’s a fast fast read I promise!)

hope you enjoy ><

—

The Duke of Stellaron.

This is the first time you’ve seen the man in the flesh aside from hearing about him. He was walking up from behind Prince Jing Yuan. He bows to the princess beside you before addressing Jing Yuan before he stands beside him, you give him a curt bow with a gentle smile.

“Your Grace.” You address him as he bows curtly back at you. Then you see how he looks between you and the princess. The princess immediately figured what was going on.

“Your Grace, this is my most beloved friend. The daughter of the Duke of Navalia.”

“My lady.” You can’t help the lingering look you give him. He’s a handsome man, quite stoic and almost devoid of any emotions except from the polite look on his face. As he chats to Jing Yuan, you see how he glances back at you and your eyes slightly widens when yours meet his crimson eyes before hastily looking away.

“So, Your Highness. How does it feel to have been crowned as a prince?” You throw the question at Jing Yuan who started to look bashful. You grin as you hear the princess, who’s also his wife, giggle beside you. As you grinned, you failed to notice a pair of crimson eyes laying their sight upon how your big smile lightens up your face, thinking how beautiful you are.

“It certainly feels weird.” Jing Yuan says and you hear the princess dramatically gasp from beside you. “That’s not what you said yesterday, my love. I thought you were ecstatic.” She lightly pouts and Jing Yuan immediately grasps onto her hand.

“Of course I’m ecstatic my heart, but I can’t deny it feels weird to be addressed as ‘Your Highness’ than the title of my military rank.” His voice was gentle and the way he kissed his wife’s knuckles softly, has you envy their relationship. Their love was truly so fated. As you glance away from their interaction, you look at the Duke who was quiet the entire time.

“How’s you stay here in Xianzhou, Your Grace?” You ask, feeling shy when you see him look at you. He gives a light nod.

“Quite different from the almost quiet life in Stellaron.” He responds, his reply making you giggle. You nod your head. “Xianzhou is quite-“ you pause as you think of a word.

“Lively.” You hear the Duke's deep voice. You look at him and nod in agreement. “Quite indeed.” You smile at him, finding him quite lively as well.

“Have you been to Stellaron, my lady?” You don’t know why you felt surprised he asked you a question about yourself, but you did. But you found yourself quite liking it.

“I have actually. Though I suppose you weren’t there.” You ponder on if you actually met him the time you visited Stellaron. “I’m sure I’d remember you if I was there.” He lightly chuckles.

“I feel flattered, Your Grace.” You grin at him and you missed how his eyes widened when you flashed him your big smile. Looking away from him, you see how the princess and prince started walking away, arms locked in together, chatting amongst themselves.

“It seems our pair of monarchs have left us.” You playfully sigh before holding onto a little bit of your dress to rise the gown up a bit, missing the way the duke’s eyes lowered themselves to glance at your legs.

“Let’s hurry shall we?” You ask the Duke as he looks at you for a moment before nodding his head.

—

After that day of your first meeting with the Duke of Stellaron, you found yourself enjoying his stoic presence. But he isn’t as stoic as you thought he’d be, he’s very lively in his own way. Randomly saying some sassy remarks which has you gasping and lightly swatting his arm, his arm he so offered for you to hold onto. Or if you didn’t know well enough, you’d miss how he is actually pulling jokes when he sounds so serious.

“Yingxing!” You waved at him as you lightly skipped away from the princess to him.

“My Lady.” He greets you with a smile you’d grown to love. “Ugh, not again! I told you to call me by my name.” You pout. You hear him lightly chuckle as you see him offer his arm to you. And then you hear him call you by your name, which makes a smile appear on your face, joy so evident.

Gratefully, you place your hand on his arm and you two start walking away from Jing Yuan and the princess, unbeknownst to you two, missing the way they look at you two with a knowing look on their faces.

“So tell me, why are you called Blade?” You ask. “I sometimes hear Jing Yuan calling you that, but never had the opportunity to ask why.” You explain to him and Blade sighs. You look at him confused.

“It’s a nickname I received during the military training, which I was so unfortunate to have at the same time as Jing Yuan.” He says and you giggle.

“Did you perhaps do something cool?” You grin at him and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“According to Jing Yuan and the others, me hitting bullseye ten times in a row with blades, was very cool.” He tells you and you gasp.

“Bullseye ten times in a row? Yingxing, that’s extremely amazing!” You squeeze his arms and he chuckles. “Well, if you say so. Then perhaps it is.”

“I’m sure you did many more amazing stuff with blades.” You tell him and he nods. “I did actually. I was quite proficient in using blades.” He remarks. “And swords as well.” He adds on and you giggle.

“I’m smelling some foul stench of flaunting here.” You tease him and he grins at you, which makes your heart flutter. He looks so much more beautiful like this than the stoic demeanour he always puts on. You look one last time at his pretty smile before looking away, pointing at some nearby big bird flying by, trying to ignore this butterfly mess feeling in your body.

—

The Princess was hosting a ball to welcome the new season. And here you were standing amongst the punch drinks, deciding wether you should pick the raspberry flavour or the watermelon one. Though the way the watermelon punch drinks was decorated is quite cute with the small bites of the fruit sitting atop the rim of the glass.

“I see you’re having a difficult time.” You hear a familiar voice which instantly makes your heartbeat go faster and the fluttery mess in your body go off again. You turn to look at him and as soon as you do, a lovely smile appears on Blade’s face as he softly says ‘hi’ and calls you by your name in that soft deep voice of his.

“Hi, Yingxing.” You say shyly, thinking of the way he greeted you.

“I’d recommend the watermelon one, it’s quite delicious.” At his words, you turn surprised then a quiet laugh bursts out from you. “Then I shall pick that one.” You tell him as you grab onto the watermelon punch glass.

“When you’re done drinking, may I have a dance with you?” You hear him ask and you felt streams of joy spread inside your body. This is gonna be your first dance with the man you’ve had the opportunity to get to know better over the past few weeks.

“You may.” You gracefully accept his invitation.

As you chat amongst yourselves, sipping on the last bit of your punch, you place the empty glass on a passing waiter's metal board. And as you do that, you hear the musicians change the music. You look at Blade, who then looks at you with his hand reached out.

He takes you to the dance floor. As you stand in front of him, you place your left hand on his shoulder and the other one holding his left hand. Then you feel his right hand on your back and you can’t help the slight shiver that comes up in your body. It doesn’t help the fact your gown is kind of backless and you feel his bare hand on the place between your neck and upper back.

You glance up at him then he leads you, moving to the steps of how waltz go. Left foot back, right foot to the side and step forward. The dance suddenly making you nervous by the close proximity, you almost squeeze your hold on his shoulder. You breathe deeply as you look at his chest instead of him, if you did that, he’d definitely be able to hear your quick heartbeats.

“Look at me.” You hear him softly whisper and you do. You do as he say and when you look at him, you wish you didn’t.

How dare he be so beautiful? How dare he look at you with those beautiful crimson eyes? The audacity he has to be so beautiful in anything he does, even in the way he is leading the dance.

“You okay?” He hear him ask and you smile. “Yes, I was just thinking about how we should do two more dances.” You say, lying through your teeth, feeling like you’d rather do this than tell him of your actual thoughts.

“Two more dances?” He asks, almost bewildered. “Yes, or perhaps, three more if you’d like it to be.” You grin at him as he sighs.

“My lady.” He says with almost a stern voice as he tilts his head.

“Your Grace.” You mimicked the way he said but a little more mischievously while also tilting your own head.

“Three it is.” He sighs out while smiling and you grin at him. “No chance to back out, Your Grace, it was you who invited me for a dance after all.” You lightly stick out your tongue to tease him.

He lets out a quiet laugh to hide the way he was looking at your mouth, how moist your lower lip seems to be after you stuck your tongue out at him. To hide the fact that if he leans in a bit closer, he could touch and taste you with his own mouth. He lightly shakes his head and leads you to the final part of the dance before the music changes.

The next two dances was more upbeat and lively, spinning and dancing with the other people in the ballroom before you went back to your original dance partner. As you do, the music changes, to a more intimate and slower tune and you suddenly felt nervous, feeling how your laugh from the previous dances dissipate when you see how Blade is wrapping his arms around your waist. And you know he didn’t fully place his hands on your body, but instead held his own hands and placed his intertwined hands on you.

His arms around your body does something to you. Streams of nervousness and also joy shoots up your body. You feel your hands tremble and almost sweat as you place them on his neck. You avoid looking at him now. Cause this time if you did, he would definitely hear how fast your heartbeat is.

You look at anywhere but his face, this time at his chest again, specifically the white shirt below his black suit jacket. You swear you could see his chest heave up and down quite harshly, his shirt straining against his body. Subconsciously, you slightly leaned your head forward and lightly breathed in his scent. He smells so good, like a man.

And then you still in your actions. Because you felt one of his hands press down on your lower back and lightly push you into him. Softly gasping, you look up at him to find him looking at you. You know that he saw what you’ve done by the way his eyes flickers all over your face before stopping to stare at your lips and you do the same. Your lips slightly part and you see how Blade subtly licks his mouth, his eyes turning almost hazy. You feel yourself almost squeezing his neck and him digging lightly onto your back with his hands.

When the music stops, it’s like you two got out of a trance and looked at each other with surprise evident on your faces. You hastily unclasp your hold on his neck, swearing you could see your handprint on his neck, but brushing it off as something your mind made up to scare you off. You back away from Blade, in turn making him lose his hold on your body, which you so dearly miss though you can sense a phantom lingering feel of his touch on your body.

“Your Grace.” You give a curt bow before walking away, not bothering to let him address you as well.

You walked hastily away, breathing heavily, you ignored your best friend, the princess, who called out for you in worry. You shake your head at her, brushing it off as some kind of problem with the heat and walked past her too before reaching a balcony far away from where the ball was hosted.

Reaching the thick marble fence of the balcony, you grip onto it as you breathe out heavily. You close your eyes as you soak in the summers night cold air then you think about how good Blade smelt, his hands on your body and the way he looked at you with such desire in his eyes. A strange feeling builds up in your abdomen and you try to fan yourself with your hand when you hear steps from behind you. Turning around, there’s the man who’s the object of your thoughts.

“Oh.” Is what you could say. You see Blade close the balcony doors before facing you.

“Care to tell me what that was about?” He asks, he didn’t sound gentle but almost frustrated.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” You blabber off more apologies then your eyes land on his neck and you do see a faint hint of your hand print there. And you immediately take a step towards him, reaching a hand out to touch his neck.

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have squeezed your neck, I left a mark. I’m so sorry.” Feeling panic build up inside you as you touch his neck, feeling his skin on your fingers tips, a larger hand wraps around your wrist and you feel a hand on your lower back, pulling you in to him again.

“Your Grace.” You softly mumble.

“Yingxing.” He says.

“Yingxing.” You repeat softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You tell him again.

“You’re not at fault at here, I did something too.” His voice is soft as you feel him rub on your lower back. His hold on your wrist loosens as he goes to hold onto your face. You lean your face into his touch, nuzzling into his palm, ignoring the way his breath hitches.

“I don’t know what to make of what transpired between us.” You hear him say and you dryly chuckle. “Me neither, but in my case, it makes sense to me.”

“What do you mean by that?” His brow are raised and he clearly looks confused. You smile sadly at him. You place a hand over his palm that’s holding your face.

“I have feelings for you.” You confess softly. Blades eyes slightly widens in surprise, he didn’t expect to hear that at all.

“Feelings?” He repeats, speechless.

“I’m in love with you, Yingxing.” You blurt out, seeing how he’s still shocked and quiet at your confession. “I don’t know when it started, but it did someday. I catch myself thinking about you a lot, I want a lot more from you. I want to be with-“

“I’m gonna have to refuse.”

“—you.” you finish your sentence then you comprehended his words. “Refuse?” Your heart beats fast this time, but for other reasons. Blade’s hold on your face and back lowers themselves to beside his own body and he looks at you with that stoic look you saw the first time you met him.

“Why? What—“

“I’m not interested in you like that.” He sounds so mean. So mean. He can’t mean that. This is not the Yingxing you got to know. Tears well up in your eyes and you miss the way his hands form into tight fists by his side. Vision blurry, you wipe your eyes but the tears are streaming down still.

“A ‘no’ would’ve sufficed but you had to add the part with me in it.” You chuckle, not being able to believe his words. He sounds rude. You wipe off the remaining tears with a nod to your face and exhale deeply.

“I understand, Your Grace. I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. Have a lovely night.” You give him one last polite bow before leaving him alone in the balcony.

Blade stood there alone, staring off at the view in front of him. He’d usually say something about it. With you. But now it looks bleak and gloomy. His hands still in a fist, he feels agonised. But he was honest. Yes, he was honest about his feelings. He does not feel the same way as you. No. He totally does not want something more from you. No no. He does not see a future with you. He definitely doesn’t miss your touch on him. Yes. He was honest.

Very honest.

—

He was lounging on the porch with Jing Yuan. Trying to bask in the heat of the summer, he cannot do that. He hears your laugh, the way your eyes shape into cute moon crescents and the way your nose scrunches up as you throw your head back laughing. His body itches to move towards you but he can’t. He remembers the time he approached you, he was met with a demeanour of yours he did not like. You were so polite, extremely so. Like you two never had conversed before this or that the night in the balcony didn’t happen.

Blade taps his fingers in a fast pace against the armrest of the chair he’s sitting on. He hears Jing Yuan groan from beside him.

“Can you stop that already?” He asks exasperated. “No.” Blade shortly says as his eyes follow your every move, how you run after your best friend in some silly game.

“You know, you could join them if you want to.” He hears Jing Yuan say and he stops his tapping to look at him. “What?” He asks.

“You can join them if you want to, Yingxing.” Jing Yuan repeats what he said. But all he could think of is the way you used to call him ‘Yingxing’ as well but now it’s ‘Your Grace’.

He hates himself for that.

“There’s no need.” He looks away from his friend to look at you once more and begins his tapping once again. He hears Jing Yuan sigh.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing by how my wife’s best friend, whose company you clearly enjoy, has been avoiding you like the plague.” Jing Yuan points out. Blade sighs. He can’t hide anything from his friend and his sharp eyes. He wasn’t a general for nothing.

“I rejected her.”

“What?” Jing Yuan almost jumped out of his seat. He looks bewildered at his friend. “You rejected her? I thought—“

“Enough. It is done and I cannot do anything about it now.” Blade cuts his friend off. Clearly knowing what he’s gonna say.

“You’re lying to yourself, Yingxing.” Jing Yuan starts. “There’s clearly ways to fix this.” He adds on.

“What ways? All I’m gonna do is hurt her again and again, and I don’t want that. Hurting her pains me.” Blade retorts with gritting teeth. “I felt agonised the day I refused her feelings. Seeing her cry, oh believe me, those blades my nickname is derived from, I wanted to hit a bullseye on myself more than ten times. It’s awful seeing her hurt. So no, I can’t do anything about this.” Now he’s gripping onto the armrest, feeling envious of the princess who gets to laugh freely with you. His heart aches.

“Yingxing, you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Jing Yuan asks softly.

“It’s too late.” His voice wavered.

He sees Jing Yuan step up from his chair from his peripheral vision. Then feels his friend pat his shoulder.

“It’s never too late, my friend.”

—

Ever since the day you played a game of tag with your best friend the princess and saw her husband approach you two, leaving Blade alone. It’s like something switched in Blade’s brain.

He’s been there every time you needed help. Or anything of that sort. Small simplistic stuff like dropping your handkerchief, he’s there to pick it up and give you his instead of making you use your dirty handkerchief. But you refused that.

Or when you were going down the stairs and held up your dress but almost tripped, he was there to catch you. Though if you tripped, you’d land on grass not stone. You’d be fine.

So what’s wrong with him?

Just now, he’s ordering a dessert from the servant, your favorite, during an outing with the princess and the prince. You look at your best friend confused with your hands in a fist. She knows what happened, so all she does is shaking her head lightly while patting your fist softly. “It’s okay, just a dessert.” She had whispered.

It’s infuriating. It’s like he’s completely ignoring the wordless request of space you asked of him.

After a luncheon one day, you took a walk in the park with the princess.

“It’s hard to ignore him.” You sigh. The princess giggles. You look at her irritated. “I didn’t know my suffering was so fun to you, Your Highness.” You poke at her side making her giggle again.

“Oh it’s not like that, stop it!” She giggles still. “But why not give him a chance? He’s clearly trying to mend the pain he caused.” The princess softly said. You shake your head.

“There’s no point. He clearly said he is not interested in me. Me.” You point out. His words still hurt to this day. He had to add in the ‘you’.

“What if he has a reason. Did you ask him?” At her words, you quiet down. You shake your head lightly. “No I didn’t, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to hurt me like that.” You pout. You feel your best friend gently pat your cheek.

“He’s invited us over to Stellaron for a weekend, so maybe have a talk with him then, alright?” You sigh but nod anyway. Your best friend does have a point. Ignoring the man and acting like he’s nothing but just a Duke to you, won’t do any good. It’s just leaving the mess to slowly get bigger and bigger.

Switching to a different topic than just crying over a man who rejected you, you speak of something with the princess when you suddenly feel how the wind got so strong it blew your hat off your head, making it fly away. Your best friend gasps and you giggle as you run to retrieve it.

Then it dropped on the grassy ground near someone’s shoes and as you look up to see who it is, it’s Blade. The man who rejected you. Feeling your giggles and smile vanish, you see him pick up your hat for you.

“My lady.” He lightly bows his head. You nod yours. “Your Grace.” You gently say. You see him look at your hat before looking at you, then he hands it over. Taking it from him, you don’t miss the way your fingers brushed against each other and you held your breath before letting it out slightly when you put the hat on your head.

“Thank you. Have a nice day, Your Grace.” You give him a curt smile, feeling your heart ache as you walked away. Unbeknownst to you, the man who rejected your love for him, stared at your form longingly with an ache in his own heart. Little did you know, he saw your smile drop and your giggle vanish as soon as you saw him. He felt like his soul got crushed in pieces by a hammer and that same hammer crushed the pieces into more pieces.

To think he used to make you smile despite his stoic demeanour, the way a beautiful smile lightened up your lovely face and a beautiful laugh escape your pretty mouth. Just for it to turn polite like he was any other man of polite society.

He wasn’t honest after all.

—

Arriving at the Stellaron mansion after a day ride in the carriage, you’re exhausted. You step out from the carriage with the help of your footman. You walk towards the carriage your best friend and her husband is sitting in. As soon as you arrive, they walk out. You hastily grab onto your best friends arm as she startled in surprise.

“Sorry but I can’t walk up alone.” You whisper to her and she giggles. You hear Jing Yuan lightly groan.

“And now I can’t have my wife to myself.” He sighs in disappointment. You see your best friend swat Jing Yuan shoulder before he grabs her hand to gently place a kiss atop her gloved knuckles.

Then you look up and see Blade at the top of the stairs at the entry to his mansion. He looks good. So good, the suns beaming down on his hair beautifully, showcasing his blue hair. He walks down the stairs to greet us all.

“Your highnesses, welcome to the Stellaron mansion.” Blade bows curtly to Jing Yuan and the princess. They thank equally as grateful then Blade’s eyes lands on you. Heartbeat quickens in pace as usual in any proximity with that man, especially when he looks at you.

“My lady, I hope you enjoy your stay here once more.” He walks towards you, taking your gloved hand in his own, pressing a soft kiss atop your knuckles. Your breath hitches and you give an awkward smile, unbeknownst to how Blade’s hand stretched after he let go.

“I shall, Your Grace. Thank you for extending the invitation to me.” You give a curt nod and he smiles at you.

“Of course.” His eye lingered on you for far too long, you’d think he wanted to say something more but he looked away.

Then he leads you all up the stairs and you walk behind the men with your best friend, arm looped in with hers.

“Oh that man is enamoured with you.” You hear your best friend whisper. You frown at her. “No he isn’t, stop putting ideas in my head.” You shake your head and she giggles. “Oh so you have thought the same.” She does a ‘ohhh’ sound as she teases you and you just sigh at her.

When you arrive in the guest bedroom, you flop down on the bed and stare up at the wall. The maids in the bedroom arrange your suitcases and a bath. You tap your fingers on the mattress pondering on how to approach Blade and talk about, no, more like discuss with him. In a civil proper manner.

Then you sigh, not coming up with any ideas. Then you hear a knock on the door and you tell the maids you take care of it. When you open the door, you lightly get surprised.

“Your Grace.” You say breathily, not expecting him to be there. It’s as if he knew you were thinking about him.

“Just coming to ask if the bedrooms alright and to your liking.” Blade asks, his face looking expectant and you almost wanted to burst out into laughter but decided to spare your laugh for him.

“Oh yes, it is fine. Very fine indeed!” You tell him as politely as you could but probably failed miserably. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he nods his head. “Then I’m glad.” Is he all he says before he turns quiet and his gaze linger on you once more. It’s quite worrying, the only time he did this was the day you met him for the first time. But now he’s staring at you. Getting a little conscious, you let out an awkward chuckle.

“Was there anything else, Your Grace?” You ask him and you see how his face winces. You don’t know what for but you can’t be bothered to ask even if you want to.

“Oh? Oh. No, nothing.” Is not what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask if you wanted to take a promenade with him, show you the beautiful lake at the back garden of the mansion and the pretty swans swimming around or the lotus flowers blooming. His hands that’s placed behind his back is tightened into frustrated fists and when he sees you give him an awkward smile, he just can’t stand it. So he sighs.

He sighed. And you don’t know what to make of it. Growing almost annoyed at his sudden weird behaviour, you nod your head at him.

“Then I see you at dinner, Your Grace.” And you shut the door. Standing against the door, exasperated, you let out a deep exhale before you see how the maids are looking at you.

“Does the Duke always act like this?” You ask, quite curious as to what they would say. They looked amongst themselves, not sure if they should say it when one of them shook their head.

“It’s the first time actually, My Lady.” She said and you nod your head.

“It’s quite weird.” You mutter and the maids nod their heads as well.

“The Duke doesn’t like to stare, but he does always start a conversation with us to not make the current circumstances awkward.” A maid tells you and the other agreed with her.

“So he does have the ability to talk and not just stare.” You let out a breathy sound.

“The Duke has been the most gracious to all of us, My Lady. And he’s also never brought a lady here, not even chaperoned, which is kind of a wonder in itself.” And they all agreed in unison once more.

At the last bit of information, questions swirl in your head. Then no wonder, he’s never been seen by society much at all. Those who do catch him, are very few. Then he stayed in Xianzhou for far longer than he intended. Then one wonders why he did just that.

—

Putting on your necklace as a finishing touch, you realize you’re a few minutes late to dinner. Feeling embarrassed for having taking so long, you left your bedroom and hurriedly went downstairs. A servant lead you to the dining room. And when you arrived, the table was set quite closely and it fit four people just fine.

“Oh here you are!” You hear your best friend chime in and you let out an embarrassed giggle. “So sorry for the tardiness.” You say as a servant helps you onto your chair. You say a quick grateful thank you before looking at the men at the table and greeting them as well.

Jing Yuan greets back, complimenting how your gown suits you just finely while your best friend agreed wholeheartedly. Feeling bashful at their sincere compliments, you cover your mouth smiling then looking up to see Blade looking at you.

Or admiring you if you looked properly. It probably is just what your best friend said. He is enamoured with you because he clearly looks like it right now. Heat spreads around your body and your hands starts feel a bit sweaty.

“You do look beautiful, my lady. I agree with your friends here.” No idea on how to react to that, all you could do was smile at him and say a ‘thank you’ while your heart feels like it’s gonna run out of its place in your ribcage than beat out of it.

The food got placed on the table and in the meanwhile, you made eye contact with your best friend and she gave you a knowing look and mouths a ‘told you so’ while you roll your eyes at her which in turn makes her giggle, catching the attention of her husband.

Dinner went smoothly, the conversations was pleasant. And the topic of how the princess caught her husband in her father’s, the king, clutches was such a heartwarming story. After dinner, all four of you got to the sitting room and hung around for a little until the princess and prince decided to retire for the night.

As soon as they decided to do so, you decided to take the moment to leave as well, feeling nervous in Blade’s presence.

“I shall retire-“ you feel someone lightly hold onto your fingers from behind and your first instinct was to hold his hand back but denied yourself to do so.

“Wait.” His voice was soft from behind you and desperate. You turn to face him and retrieve your hand back from his hold, which he furrow his brows at, like it’s agonising to not hold you.

“Do you perhaps wanna take a walk?” He sounds nervous, which is unlike him. You tilt your head to hide your nervousness and instead look confused. “It’s pretty late, Your Grace.” You say simply and he gives a slight smile, nodding his head.

“Yeah you’re right, but do you want to? Maybe we could—“ he ponders off on what to say next. “—perhaps talk?” He finishes off and you looked him slightly surprised but found yourself accepting his offer to walk.

—

He took you to the back of the garden, which was stunning even in the night. You can’t help but think to come back here in the morning, knowing it’d be double the beauty in daytime.

You managed to catch a bloomed lotus flower at the lake and couldn’t help but point it out to Blade, who was walking behind you all in silence.

“It’s so beautiful.” You say as you crouch down and look at the pretty flower, not bothering to look at Blade. “Indeed it is.” Which in turn made you miss the way he looked at you as he agreed at your statement.

You’re absolutely radiant in the moonlight, your gown looks like diamonds the way it’s sparkling in the dark. As you stand and continue walking ahead, your body looks like it’d fit perfectly in Blade’s arms. The way you gently fiddle with your hands as you walk, makes Blade’s own hands itch to hold them so you could fiddle with his hands than your own. Keep yourself occupied with him.

Under the moonlight, Blade sees you look up at the sky, at the moon with a small serene smile on your face. And that’s when he saw the lone stray of hair that fell out of place from your hairdo. Not wasting a chance, he reached his hand out and carefully placed it behind your ear then twirled it around your hairdo. All the while, he did not miss how your body was still in shock.

“What are you doing?” You ask, nervously but deeply.

“I missed you.” He ignores your question, which infuriates you. You harshly turn your head to look at him with furrowed brows and an annoyed expression.

“What do you think you’re doing, Your Grace?” You ask once again and Blade sighs. “I’m fixing your hair.” He says your name at the end and you clutch your dress with your own hands.

“It didn’t need fixing.” You simply say and walk away.

“Please, stop walking away from me.” He says from behind you, pleading for you to stop. You let out a humourless laugh but continue to walk. “Do give me a reason as to why I should stop walking, Your Grace. Maybe then I shall stop doing so.” You retort back.

But your body harshly gets turned around by how Blade grabbed your arm and pulled you against his body.

“Don’t do this to me.” You push at his chest but it’s to no avail, he’s much stronger than you. Somehow, he was quick enough to place his arms around your body and keep you caged in his arms. Maybe you’d appreciate it months ago, but you don’t do it now. It’s agonizing.

“Please listen to me. You at least owe me that.” He says and you scoff. “I don’t owe you anything whatsoever.” You glare at him, holding back tears. You feel his hands trail up your back to cup your face. As if it’s a pure instinct, your body nuzzles into his touch and you hate how much you love this. How much you love and miss his touch on you.

“I know. You’re right. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Then let go of me.” You tell him and he shakes his head.

“I already did that once and I won’t do it again.”

“What’s so different this time, Your Grace? You sound like you might return my feelings this time.” At your words, he stills. As if in a moment of clarity. You look at him and scoff once more. Taking the moment of his stillness, you push him and walk away.

“Leave me alone. I know that face. That’s the exact same face you did the day at the balcony. I’ve been refused once by you, can’t have it happen once more, can we?” You huff out a laugh, finding it absolutely ridiculous. Refused by the same man, twice? Maybe you should take a dive into the lake, it’s definitely still cold. As you were nearing the mansion, it starts to rain. About to hurry in, Blade grabs you by the arm again.

“Why don’t you just listen to me?” He asks loudly over the pouring harsh rain. His wet hair sticking to his skin and the raindrops streaming down his face.

“Last time I did that, you said you were not interested in me like that!” You yell from over the rain. “I'd lose it if I get rejected by you once again, Your Grace. So no, I won’t listen.”

“Then let me explain, please I beg you.” His grip on your arm was tight, you swear you’d get a bruise by it my morning. “Then explain yourself.” You tell him.

He was gonna speak up, but then he sees you shiver. And he sees how strongly he’s holding onto your arm and he lets go immediately. He instantly takes his suit jacket off and places it around your body.

“I’m fine, Your Grace. The mansion is just a few meters away.” He shakes his head, refusing to heed your words. You sigh out, letting him do what he wants this time. When he properly put the jacket around you, even tied the arms into a knot as if it would fall off anytime.

“Let’s get back inside, you’re shivering.” He says and grabs your hand. You stumbled just a few steps as you walked. Then just a few second later, you were up in the air, facing the back garden and smelling the familiar scent of Blade’s natural scent and in his arms. He’s carrying you. Then you feel him tuck you against his chest as if to shield you from the rain even if you’re already soaked through.

Arriving inside the mansion, you hear the surprised and worried voices of the servants and Blade ordering them to prepare a warm bath for you. All while he strides up the stairs, with you still in his arms. And all you could do was hold onto him as if he was your safety net. At some point you found yourself almost burrowing your head onto his chest, feeling safe and content in his arms, his scent surrounding all your senses.

Then you were put on a chair in your guest bedroom. The servants hurriedly prepared the bath. One gave you a blanket then hurried to help her colleagues prepare the bath. You didn’t realize that Blade was still in the room when he had spoken up.

“You may leave this room, I’ll take care her.” At their dukes surprising orders, all the servants could do was bow their head and dismiss themselves.

Then as you sit on the chair, you’re ignoring him. But he knows just how to make you look at him. So he does that. He kneels in front of you, which does make you turn and look at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You ask but lightly gasp when you feel him grasp your leg gently.

When he slides your soaked dress up your legs, you feel extra conscious of your close proximity. He stops sliding your dress up when he reaches the hem of your stockings. Heavy breaths escapes your mouth and your hands tremble on your lap.

“Hold onto your dress, my love.” He softly says, lightly startling at the name he used for you but you did what he said nonetheless. Dress now bunched up and held in place by you, your stocking covered legs are on full display. This act feels intimate to you and it is for sure intimate. But knowing how he feels about you, you don’t know what to make of this. Should you be happy he’s giving signs that he care for you or should you beat yourself up over the fact this may be an act of kindness, not cause he may return your feelings.

He places your heel clad feet on his knee, unties the string connected to your shoes. He looks at you time to time and sees you breathe heavily, your chest rising up and down with a lovely expression. Your eyes are on him, lips parted in shock and the expression tells him you’re surprised to see him do this. Have him touch you. To see the Duke of Stellaron on his knees, helping you. Though you two are of the same social standing. You’re two unmarried people in a room alone together without a chaperone.

He takes your heel off your foot and you can feel his clothed knee even through your stocking. You clutch onto your dress on your lap as you see him touch your stocking softly. Gentle as if you’re a precious doll. Your heart beats fast but it aches. How can he do this after the rejection. After the arguing.

Your breath hitches when you feel him touch the hem of your stocking and slowly slides it down your bare leg. You grab onto his hand midway, shaking your head.

“Why are you doing this?” You softly ask again. He shakes his head. “If you stay in those soaked clothes a moment more, you will catch a fever. So I’m helping you out.” At his words, you turn speechless.

He manages to slip down the stocking and gently puts it on the armrest of the chair you’re sitting on. Thinking about his words and how they’re bothering you, you feel him touch your bare leg, sliding a finger up and down your skin as if he’s mesmerized. You turn quiet and watch him still. He’s confusing. Extremely so.

To work on the other stocking, he gotta grab your other leg. Blade feels happy doing this. Helping you out. The thought of you catching a fever itches at his skin. He doesn’t like the thought of you feverish and in pain. Then if you do catch a fever, you’d have to stay in this mansion until you get better. That thought doesn’t seem so bad to Blade.

Grabbing your other leg, the feel of your bare skin on his fingertips is entrancing. Feeling how your stocking slide down your pretty bare leg and revealing more of your skin, it makes his thoughts wander further and further. Further to were those legs lead up to. Up to your thighs and if he just spread your legs a little and bunched up your dress on your lap, he’d see the apex of your thighs and he almost felt lightheaded. Your scoff burst his little thought bubble of you. He looks up as he finally slid down the entire stocking of your leg.

“Helping me out, you said.” You say, scoffing once again. “It’s ironic, Your Grace.” To hear you address him like and not by his name, he physically flinched.

“You aren’t helping anything at all. Wasn’t our argument just a few moment ago not helping?” You ask him, astonished.

“You’ve been acting so weird ever since the day you rejected me. Your Grace, it’s not been a week since that day, it’s been months. Surely you have seen how you’ve behaved towards me.”

“You’re speaking as if I’ve acted in an evil manner towards you.” He says almost offended and you let out a humorless laugh.

“You don’t find it evil how you been at my beck and call, doing things a man who courts someone does after rejecting me evil?” At your words, his heart shattered. About to speak up, you beat him to it.

“It hurts.” He sees your eyes glisten up in tears as your voice wavers. “It hurts so much, here.” You place your hand at the spot of your heart. His hands trembles, itching to touch you, to hold you.

“I’ve given you my bare heart just for you to refuse it, then now you’re behaving as if you never rejected me.” Tears fall down your face, Blade hates seeing you cry like that. How many times he’s probably done that, he doesn’t wanna think about it.

“Why did you reject me?” You ask and Blade stands on his knees and holds your face gently. He wipes your tears off with his thumb.

“I have no other reasons than just that I don’t want to be in a relationship. I can’t. I’m scared.” His answer infuriates you, but at least he’s honest. Brutally so. You lightly scoff though there’s tears streaming down your face.

“Then why still make me think you might feel the same after the way you’ve behaved? Why give me hope?”

“Because I realized too late.” His words now confusing you. Realizing too late about what? You see how his eyes flicker all over your face and how his grip on your head feels almost rough. “Realized what?” You ask, confused.

“That I love you. I realized too late that the moment you smiled at me you’ve had my heart ever since. I still loved you the day I rejected you. That’s what I realized too late about.” You’re speechless. Not knowing what else to say, you feel his thumbs rub your cheeks gently, he flashes you a sad smile.

“It was stupid of me to do that. The day you walked away from me after almost losing your hat, that’s when I knew.”

“How?”

“Because at that moment, I didn’t make you happy. Your lovely smile didn’t appear on your pretty face. Your eyes didn’t almost glimmer in joy. The thought of you unhappy, it ate me up from the inside.” His voice is wavering and you feel his hand on your face shake.

“I wanted to run after you that day at the balcony, but I thought it was too late. There was no way to mend what I had caused.” His eyes well up in tears and you look at him stunned.

“I’m so sorry. I hurt you so much, I shouldn’t have said i wasn’t interested in you. Because I am. Every day I imagine a life with you, every day I long to touch you, to hold your body in my arms and cage you in and keep you to myself. Everyday I want to see you smile and hear your pretty laughs. A day without you, it was tormenting me.” A few tears fell down his face and you immediately go to wipe it off.

“If you had just said that to me that day at the balcony, we wouldn’t have to do this.” You tell him and Blade looks at you sadly, truly regretful.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have said those awful words to you.” He shakes his head as he earnestly looks into your eyes, truly apologetic. “I am in love with you, most ardently. A day without you is torture, it’s way worse than the Mara that’s been found lately at Xianzhou.” He bemoaned, which makes a tiny giggle leave your mouth. You see how Blade’s eyes lightens up at the sound, watching your mouth expecting more of that sound to come out.

Him staring so shamelessly at your lips, has you flustered and you were about remove your hands from face when Blade, in a haste, put his own on top of yours. He shakes his head, looking defeated.

“Don’t leave, please?” He pleads and your heart races. “I’m not gonna leave, I just felt nervous at the way you were staring at me like that.” You mumble out and Blade’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why are you staring at me so much anyway? And you always sigh too.” You lightly pout and Blade flashes you a bashful smile.

“Because you’re bewitching. One look at you, it gets me in a trance.” He explains. “But that don’t explain the sigh.” You try to ignore the fluttery mess of your heart at his honest confession of his staring.

“Because it’s absolutely outstanding that someone as enchanting as you is walking on this earth, with mere mortals.” He says and you giggle. “That sounds ridiculous, Yingxing.” You shake your head at his silly words. As you shook your head, you look down at your lap and see how Blade is situated in between your thighs. The position looks quite…scandalous. Your bare legs don’t help it either.

“I love it when you call me that.” He tells you and you nod your head. “Feels better to hear that than my title.” He adds on and you chuckle.

“Now that I know, I might call you that if you wrong me again.” You tease, saying the words in a lighthearted way but Blade turned serious.

“I will never wrong you again, my love. I stand by that promise.” He is saying it like it’s some knightly honour, which is endearing. “That’s impossible, we’re bound to come to disagreement but we shall talk it out than leave it be.” You tell him. He nods his head in agreement.

“Wronging you is something I stand by not ever doing again.” That was final and his sincerity makes you shy.

“The water is getting cold, the servants stressed to prepare this for me.” You shyly mutter out and Blade nods his head. He leans his head in to nuzzle his nose against yours. As Blade was about to pull away, he sees how he’s seated inbetween your thighs and he gulps on air.

You also saw where his eyes went and you feel how his hands moves down to your thighs. As if dazed, he places his bare palms on your skin and you lightly sigh at the touch. As he runs his hands up and down your thighs, he traces his nose down below your face, when he reaches your neck he breathes in your scent there. “You smell heavenly, my love. I can’t get enough of it.” You hear him groan against your neck as his hands squeeze your thighs and your hands clutch onto his shoulders.

“Yingxing, the water.” You manage to breath out and Blade immediately pulls away. His face is flushed and his hair a mess. You let to go off your hold on his shoulders.

“You’re right, I shall leave you alone as you bathe. Call for me when you’re done, yeah?” He’s so gentle. He’s now softly holding your neck and strokes his noses against your own before pressing a kiss on your forehead. His actions leaving you completely stunned, all you could do was nod and you were alone in the room.

You took your gown off and entered your peach scented bath. Then you remembered Blade’s confession, his touches and the way he caressed your legs. You touch your legs as if remembering his touch then you feel embarrassed before soaking your entire body in the bathtub.

—

Putting on a nightgown after your bath. You pace around the room for a moment. Debating on if you should go sleep and pretend to forget Blade told you to call for him. Then how can you call for him anyhow? You’d have to go to his bedroom personally.

At that thought, you get a sudden realization and your body flushes in warmth. Going to his bedroom at night feels nerve racking but at the thought of being alone with him, makes you feel elated.

You were tiptoeing outside your room, mindful of your surroundings but somehow not catching there was a door ajar, seeing what you’re doing. As you were walking down the hall barefooted, you realized you don’t know where his bedroom is. You sigh to yourself for your stupidity and was about to walk away when you hear footsteps from down the hall.

A tall figure emerges and your eyes lightens in joy at seeing Blade.

“Hi.” You softly whisper and he smiles at you like you hold the world. “Hi.” He greets you back and softly takes your hand in his.

“Remembered there’s no way for you to call for me than going to my bedroom, so I came to check up on you.” He whispers to you and you muffle your giggle with your unoccupied hand, nodding in agreement.

“Come, let’s go back.” He says, dragging you to the direction your bedroom is. You stand put, not following along. As Blade sees what you’re doing, he turns confused but when he sees you shake your head slightly when placing your other hand over your intertwined ones, he understood.

—

He gently leads you into his bedroom and you feel all sorts of emotions at once. You see him light the candle by his desk then turns around to face you. The room being lit by only the candle with you two in it, your heart definitely skipped out of its place.

Blade is looking at you, it’s like his crimson eyes felt darker in the candlelit room and you decided to do anything else than look at the man.

“So…” you start off as you walk towards his bookshelves in the room, pretending to examine the titles. “You read books!” You chime awkwardly and Blade looks at you amused.

“I do, I’ve told you that before, my love.” He softly tells you as he starts to approach you. Your widens and you quickly speak up.

“No, stop right there!” You exclaim then quickly cover your mouth for being too loud. Blade stops walking instantly, confused as to why you told him to stay there.

“I—why?” He tilts his head and your breath feels almost like it’s staggering.

“It’s the proximity.” You tell him.

“Proximity?”

“Yes.” You nod your head.

“Or is it me?” Blade sees your lips part in surprise before you slightly nod your head. His heart flutters at the thought of you being flustered in his closeness. He takes a step forward and he sees you back slowly against the bookshelf, he smiles at the sight.

When he got close to you, finally, he softly tugs on your hands before clasping them together with his own. He brings them to his lips, kisses the top of your fingers gently, all while keeping an eye contact with you. Your breath staggers and you wet your lower lip.

“I was honest in everything I said today.” He mumbles against your hand and your eyes slightly widens. He smiles again. “I know it’s hard to believe me after I rejected you so cruelly that day.” You shake your head.

“I do believe you.” You softly mutter, loving the way he kisses your fingertips. “I’m happy that you do.” He says before he unclasps your hands to cup your face. He backs you against the bookshelf, making you tilt your head to look at him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to kiss you since our last dance.” He mumbles and you sigh as you rub your nose against his. “Do you still want to?” You shyly ask and he chuckles.

“Oh my love, such an obvious question you’re asking me.” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek before you feel his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses on your face except the place you want them to press down against.

“Then kiss me.” You whisper before you felt a pair of soft lips upon yours. You sigh into the kiss as you trail your hands up over his firm chest to hold him by his neck.

His lips moves so softly against yours but his grip on your face is tight and desperate. When you feel his tongue in your mouth, you gasp into the kiss at the same time as you squeeze his neck. He takes the moment to nibble on your lower lip as his hands moves down your back to place themselves them on your waist, his fingertips close to your backside.

Then he takes your mouth in another kiss, teeth clashing against each other in a desperate and hungry attempt to kiss deeper and deeper. He continues to kiss you as if he hasn’t had enough until you had to pull away, breathless. Blade is panting himself but can’t stop himself from reaching your mouth again and press kisses on the corner of your mouth down to your jaw to your pulse point, all of that making your grip on his neck tighten and soft moans leaving your lips.

“So this is how it feels to kiss you?” You hear him breathe out, chest heaving up and down. You let out a small chuckle. Blade noses the spot between your neck and shoulder, before trailing chaste kisses down your throat to your collarbone, breathing in your scent. All while grabbing onto your thighs, as if in reflex, you pull your thighs up and he automatically lifts you and pins you against the bookshelves. His hands are now below the material of your nightgown and you can’t stop the constant sighs and soft moans that escapes your mouth with the way he’s pressing kisses on your skin.

As you wrap your thighs around his lithe waist, you feel Blade’s hands close to the inner parts of your thighs and you still in surprise. Your hands reflexively gently push his chest and he stops his kisses on your skin.

Blade sees your widened eyes and he feels where his hands wandered to and his own eyes widens as well.

“I wasn’t supposed to go that far.” He says almost if he got caught for committing a very heinous crime. You lightly shake your head, your hands clutch onto his shirt on his chest.

“No, it’s okay. I was just…shocked. That’s all.” You reassure him softly and he nods.

“I won’t do anything you won’t like.” You hear Blade say and you smile at him, genuinely. Your heart feels full of love for him. When Blade sees you smile at him so lovingly, he can’t help but kiss you on the mouth for a few moments more.

“You haven’t done anything I’ve disliked.” You mutter against his mouth during the kiss. You feel Blade smile against your lips, then you feel his hands that are still on your thighs, squeeze you as if he liked the words you just said.

You feel how your back isn’t pressed against the bookshelf anymore, but rather pressing against nothing, so you immediately wrap your arms around his neck. Then you realize Blade is walking with you in his arms, towards the bed. Then you lightly flop down on the mattress from when Blade gently released you.

When Blade sees your hair splattered across his pillows, your nightgown sliding up your thighs with your legs lightly crossed. And with the way you look up at him with such pretty eyes, he loves it. He loves the sight of you on his bed, at his mercy and now in between his arms as he caged you in on the bed.

Then he kisses you all over your face in a haste, making giggles and bunch of soft ‘stop, it tickles’ go past your pretty mouth. He loves this too. Being alone with you, having you all to himself as he gets to press his mouth against anywhere on your soft body. And when he feels you hold his shoulders and your thighs wrapped around him, he feels at ease and fulfilled. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

“I love you.” You hear him say. His voice so soft and gentle, so in love and awe to be able to say these three words to you. You heart just cannot stop beating faster and faster, body heating up even more at his words. You softly nod your head, then you feel him lean down to nuzzle his nose against yours, muttering the three words again and again.

“I love you.” You tell him back then he kisses you on the mouth, saying ‘i love you’ with the way his lips moves against yours leisurely and in unbridled joy.

—

“It’s okay, you can leave it here.” You hear muffled voices from beneath the blanket and you feel the sun beams on your face. You snuggle up closer to the blanket, sighing in content at the familiar scent of Blade on the blanket. You smile sleepily against the material before you feel the bed dip beside you. You turn around and see Blade look down at you with such a soft way in his eyes, full of love.

If it was possible for your body to flush in warmth all the time around this man, your body would be constantly in that state.

“Good morning, my dove.” He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. You pout and shake your head, puckering your lips and you hear Blade giggle. Then you feel his mouth upon yours and you smile into the kiss. Your arms go around his neck and you push his entire upper body on yourself, feeling his entire weight on your body but you love it even though he’s heavy.

“Good morning, Yingxing.” Blade can't get enough of the way his name leaves your lips. The way you say it, he loves it. The day he won’t hear his name past your mouth, he’s a dead man.

“Let’s get up, it’s morning and there’s breakfast for you.” You nod your head at his words and you feel his hands on your hips before he moves you up against the headboard of the bed and makes you sit up straight. You giggle at the way he manhandled you and he presses a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Did you sleep well?” You ask as he hands you a sandwich. He nods his head as he softly runs his hand down your hair.

“I missed out on a lot of the times you weren’t asleep in my arms.” He grins as you giggle, feeling him put a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t tell me you stared at me as I slept.” You look suspiciously at him and he puts his hands up as if he got caught.

“You can’t blame me, you look absolutely beautiful as you sleep.” He tells you. You pout. “I drool when I sleep.” Blade chuckles. “Then I be there to wipe it off for you if you do.”

Your heart flutters at his words and you shake your head embarrassedly. “You and your silly words.” You tell him as you take the last piece of sandwich in your mouth. Blade rubs your mouth, wiping off crumbs then eats the little crumb himself.

“Only you will hear those silly words, my love.” He tells you and you playfully groan. “Oh no, that’s torture.” You cover your face as you grin. You hear Blade laugh as he then climbs up on the bed to hover over you on the bed.

“Oh, then this won’t be torture then?” He asks. And you uncover your face, wondering what he means. “What won’t be?” You ask him back.

Then he kisses you.

Oh this is definitely not torture.

—

Your arm were looped in with your best friends as you two take a stroll in the back garden of the Stellaron Mansion.

“So, what’d I tell you?” You hear your best friend chime in amusedly and you lightly roll your eyes. “That he was enamoured with me.” You repeat her words and she nods, proud of herself.

“And he most certainly is, he can’t stop looking at you ever since you two got out from his bedroom.” She emphasised ‘his’ which makes your eyes get big and you look at her surprised.

“You knew?!” You almost shriek and she giggles. “I saw you two at night, tiptoeing and whispering around then he dragged you to his bedroom.” The way she described it is funny to you, so you can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth.

“He didn’t drag me. I was the one who asked him to take me there.” You tell her and your best friend oh’s entertained and you giggle at her antics.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” She lightly pushes your shoulder and you shrug your shoulders playfully. “Well, I did learn from the best, didn’t I?” You whisper to her and the princess laughs. If one has to know, your best friend the princess, sneaked down to her husband, former bodyguard of hers, bedroom after a ball.

“Alright, let’s go back, I can feel Bladie’s stare on us millions away.” Your best friend says and you giggle. Because he is indeed looking your way. When you see him, you wave and he waved back. He is so endearing.

—

“I will court you properly and ask for your hand once we get back to Xianzhou. How does that sound, my dove?” You hear Blade ask from below the steps to the carriage.

“I love it.” You smile at him as he takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles softly. He wished he kissed you on the mouth but with so many watching, he decided to spare it for another time.

As he lets go off your hand, you take your fan and unravel it.

“Come closer.” You whisper to him, Blade looks confused then he feels you grab by his collar before covering the view of your faces to everyone with the fan. Then he feels your soft lips on top of his and he smiles. He feels most wholeheartedly happy. You giggle against his mouth when he leans back in to kiss you more when you lean away.

“Okay, no more.” You tell him and he lightly pouts, looking saddened and you pat your hand against his cheek.

“You get to kiss me as much as you want once I’m your wife.” At the mention of you being his wife, his eyes lightens up. He takes a step closer to the carriage.

“And I’m your husband.” He whispers before pressing one last kiss on your mouth, making you lightly gasp and him grin happily.

To think you’d make such a stoic man get so soft around you, is astonishing but you love it.

—

phew! thanks for reading it this far, hopefully you liked it ><

please leave a like and reblog if you did, that would be most appreciated! <3

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Note

Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases.

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.”

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.”

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.”

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall.

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it.

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity.

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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letstrip-teamblue · 6 months

Text

Treat you like a lady

• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.

• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.

• Word count: 2,031

Sunday

Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.

The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.

A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.

Chris breaks the awkward silence.

“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.

I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”

“What?”

You look up from your phone.

“…What.” You echo.

“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”

Your cheeks get warm.

Think of a way to brush this off.

“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”

He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.

“... Do you do it for him?”

A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”

“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”

Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?

“This is none of your business.” You scoff.

“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.

Chris doesn’t give up yet.

“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”

You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.

“I’ll see you later, Chris.”

7:00 pm

Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.

You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.

Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.

“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.

It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.

You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.

“I'm over here, goof.”

It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked

“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.

1:12 am

Well, that’s a first.

Monday

Chris opened the front door.

“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.

Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.

“Yeah about that,”

You cleared your throat and walked inside.

“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”

His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.

“What?”

“It’s not personal, it’s-”

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.

“How can I when you’re all I think about?”

The air in the room gets thick.

“What?”

“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.

“I could treat you better than him.”

You laugh, “What are you talking about?”

He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know it’s true.”

He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.

“I can make you feel good.”

You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.

Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.

He must be bluffing… right?

“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.

I need to stop this.

“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.

Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.

“Does he make you nervous like I do?”

Chris' eyes fall to your lips.

“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”

Shit.

Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.

Wait, don’t go anywhere.

You press your lips forward, chasing him.

It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.

He straightens up.

“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”

Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.

“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”

“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”

You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.

You pull back for air.

“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”

“Ok.”

But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.

It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.

“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”

“I’d really like that.”

4:15 pm

Me: just left his house. whew.

Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.

6:00pm

“How long have you liked me?”

“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”

Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.

You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.

“Damn, you have some knots right here.”

“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”

“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”

Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.

“Is it ok if I bring this up?”

“Mhm.”

He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.

Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.

“That feeling good?”

“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”

He chuckles. ��Anything for my girl.”

After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.

He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.

“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”

“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.

You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.

He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.

“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”

While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.

You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.

You nod into his pillow.

“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.

“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.

“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”

He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.

Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.

“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.

He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.

Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.

Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.

Your back arches off the bed.

“That’s it.” he says into my skin.

He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.

“God, you’re everything.”

It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.

“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”

“Fuck yes.” You moan.

When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.

Chris tsks.

“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”

“Shut up.”

You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.

“Yes ma’am.”

Jesus

Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.

“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”

You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.

Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.

He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.

“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.

“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Please, so close.”

“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”

He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.

In an instant your vision goes black.

The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.

You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.

“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.

“Hi”

“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”

He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.

You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.

It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut

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hogwartsfirebolt · 7 months

Text

the game’s the game

“What was going through your mind when you spotted the Snitch?”

Two camera shutters go off like lighting, but Draco doesn’t blink. It’s almost the end of the season, and he’s done a press conference every week. He’s used to them.

“Fucking finally,” he answers, and the journalists all laugh. They think he’s joking, and he can already imagine the articles they’ll publish tomorrow pronouncing him cheeky and funny, but he means it wholeheartedly. Six hours in the sky, drenched all the way through his pants in rainwater, and facing the very best player in the league? He had half a mind to jump off his broom if only to have the game end somehow.

“This is the second time you face PU and well, Harry Potter, this season,” says another reporter, a young, pretty woman with her hair pinned up and a reverent tone when she speaks Potter’s name. Like everyone. “Are you expecting to encounter him at this year’s Cup? And if so, how does that make you feel?”

Draco breathes out hard through his nose. Across the room from him, sitting at his own table against the wall opposite, Potter’s doing his own press conference. He’s wearing a hat backwards, the light blue of his team hoodie contrasting with his golden-warm skin tone. He has a hand to his chin, rubbing his short beard in thought at some question he’s being asked. Probably about just how sweet it had been to snatch that Snitch right from under Draco’s nose. He’s earnest and so gorgeous Draco can’t stand the sight of him.

“The game is the game,” Harry’s voice carries, clear and chesty, deeply masculine as he says his favorite little quote that means absolutely nothing and that fans have been yelling and tattooing on their bodies the whole season. “We don’t take any victory for granted. Coach has been running us to the ground, she won’t stop until we have that trophy in Puddlemere, and we’re doing our best to make her proud.”

“Oh, I’m certain we’ll face them at the Cup,” is what Draco answers at last. “Honestly? I think no other team comes even close. We’ll face them, and then we’ll bring the Cup home to Appleby. As Potter himself likes to say, the game is the game.”

All the cameras around him go off, the sound of Quick-Quills scrabbling and the reporters’ scandalized gasps at his use of Potter’s quote. He grins, puts his olive green Arrows cap on and stands to leave. He needs a fucking shower.

Later on, he’s sprawled on his hotel room couch, drying his hair with a towel and watching a replay of the game on the enormous television, making mental notes about his own flying, his mistakes, the times he dove too soon or hovered too low. When the screen follows the blue jersey with POTTER 7 emblazoned across the back, he looks closely, trying to spot mistakes but knowing he won’t find any. Potter’s probably the best flier of the century, and Draco loves Quidditch too much to lie to himself about that.

He’s admiring one of Potter’s physics-defying feints when there’s a knock on his door. Immediately, his heart takes up a gallop, and he has to press a hand to the center of his chest with a frown.

“Calm the fuck down, Malfoy,” he mutters. It’s a disproportionate reaction and he’s irritated with himself for it. It’s not as though it’s the first time. Or the tenth.

He pauses the game with a flick of his wand and makes his way to the door, through the archway that separates the TV room from the kitchenette. A quick look at the archway across the suite to make sure the bedroom is as he left it, and he’s at the door, taking a deep breath.

Potter’s grin is huge when Draco opens. He’s foregone all his team outwear, and is now in a familiar, worn leather jacket and a black sweater. His hair is wet, as though he rushed after his shower so he could get here quicker. Draco opens his mouth to say something, but before he figures out what, Harry pushes inside, turns around and presses him against the door, big hands gentle on Draco’s waist. Draco’s heart hasn’t gotten the “this isn’t the first or tenth time this happens,” memo, and is still running a marathon inside his chest, so he says nothing.

There’s a plastic bag in Potter’s hands. Dinner, probably, he usually brings dinner when they meet after a game. His wide smile reveals white teeth, a crooked canine that Draco knows is a baby tooth that never loosened. Round, stylish glasses cover the most intoxicating green eyes Draco has ever seen, and they’re shining with tonight’s victory. And Draco might be — definitely is — the world’s sorest loser, but he’s also the world’s biggest slut for Quidditch excellence, and he has it right here, holding him against his hotel room door.

“The game is the game?” Harry asks, amused, already leaning in, the hand on Draco’s waist moving to wrap the whole way around him and pull him close.

“Just some stupid phrase I’ve heard from a dickhead,” Draco answers, but the words hold the shape of a smile and are uttered right into a kiss there at the end.

It’s always a race at the start. They're both high from the game, still in that mindset, and it’s a competition to see who can undress quicker, who can make the other harder, who can earn the first moan and coax the first orgasm of the night. But after that first one, after Draco’s jaw aches dully and Potter is softening between his legs, everything slows down a little. Potter helps him up and they share the tacos Potter brought, watching the last minutes of the game they played earlier with Draco’s legs up on Potter’s lap, where he’s massaging his knees, his quads, making sure he’s not achy from kneeling for him.

“I really fucked that one up,” Potter comments. His tiny self on the screen just pulled out of an impossible dive at what looks like a 90 degree angle. He sounds earnest, which is the only reason Draco isn’t kicking him right in his beautiful face.

“I hate you so much. Only you would call that a fuck up.”

Potter hums, his massaging hands moving from Draco’s calf to his heel, his thumb pressing into his sole. On the screen, tiny Draco swerves a Bludger aimed to his head, and his teammate Owen is flying to him to make sure he’s alright.

“That guy is so into you,” Potter points out.

“I know. We fucked all through rookie year.”

Potter turns to look at him so fast it must hurt his neck. Draco raises an eyebrow, confused at the strong reaction.

“What?”

“I — I don’t know,” Potter says, suddenly sheepish. His hands haven’t stopped moving over Draco’s foot. Potter’s skin is dark, but Draco can still make out the blush spreading across his cheekbones. “Isn’t it weird? He’s a teammate.”

There’s something he’s not saying. It’s evident in the way he bites his bottom lip, in the way he obviously wants to look away but is too ridiculously brave to actually do it. Draco’s heart thumps inside his chest, so hard he’s sure it must be audible to Harry too.

They’ve never named this thing between them. The first time they did it, after the quarter finals one year before, with Potter’s ill advised kiss that ended with them fucking in the showers of the stadium after Potter had wiped the damn dust with Draco on the pitch, they agreed to keep it quiet, and that was the last they discussed of it. It’s going on fourteen months since then, and they’ve done it at least once a month, when the league brings them to nearby towns, and sometimes when it doesn’t and they take a quick midnight Portkey to each other to blow off some steam.

Draco had never in his life been as well-fucked as he’s been this past year, and he definitely doesn’t want to lose it. Potter’s always been honest and open with him, vocal in bed about how much he wants him, filthy in his occasional text messages when they’re apart, but he’s never given any indication that he wants anything other than exactly what they have.

“It’s not weird,” Draco says slowly, unsure of what to think of this exchange. “We stopped a while ago. I was clear that I didn’t want — that I’d rather we stayed friends and teammates, without any complications.”

“Right,” Potter says. He sounds relieved, and Draco feels like he’s three steps behind the conversation they’re having. He’s about to ask, but Potter’s fingers on his calf smooth over an old knot and he groans instead, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion.

“That feels great,” he says, and Potter repeats the motion.

“Yeah. I think you pulled it when you made that X turn.”

The turn he made to try to beat him to the Snitch, he doesn’t say. How he had enough awareness to know Draco attempted it while diving for the Snitch himself is beyond comprehension, but Draco has long accepted that Potter is simply insane about the game. He notices everything, considers everything, takes every risk. If he weren’t a player himself, Draco knows he would be following Puddlemere and Harry wherever they played for the entire season, wearing a pale blue jersey with the number 7 on it.

“Probably,” Draco says, closing his eyes and groaning again when Harry keeps pressing the same point. After a moment, he feels something softer brushing his calf, and opens his eyes to find Harry bent over his leg, kissing a path up towards his knee. He can’t help the embarrassing little sound he makes, and Harry’s laugh is a puff against his skin as he keeps moving up, breath warm on the wet trail of his kisses up Draco’s thigh. In the background, the presenters are going crazy over a feint Harry pulled, the sound of the audience carrying all through the stadium and out of the TV speakers.

Harry has made his way high up and is kissing Draco’s birthmark, a brown, apple-sized beauty mark an inch below his groin when he lifts his head to ask, “Why didn’t you want to?”

Draco can’t believe he’s using his mouth to speak at that moment. He licks his lips, trying to make sense of the question.

“What? What are you even — ?” He tries to sit up a little, but Harry moves over him instead so they’re eye-level without Draco having to move at all.

“With Caddell. Why didn’t you want to keep seeing him?”

“Owen? Why the fuck are we talking about —,” Draco lets his head drop down onto the cushions again, a sigh punched out of him. Harry takes pity and leans forward to kiss him, lips soft over Draco’s, knowing exactly how to coax his kisses out of him the way he likes best.

“I just want to know,” Harry whispers against his lips. He’s breathless just from touching Draco, from rubbing his legs, from kissing him. Fuck, this is insane.

“I like him, but it wasn’t very exciting.” Draco says. He closes his eyes as Harry begins to kiss down his neck, and tries to really think about it, because he’s not even sure himself. “I wasn’t willing to risk our teamwork when what we had wasn’t even that … electric. I don’t know. This sounds insane.”

Harry shakes his head, his beard rubbing against Draco’s collarbone. “It doesn’t. I get it.” He bites on the delicate skin connecting neck and shoulder, licks a path down his chest. “I get electric.”

“Fuck yes you do,” Draco says, nonsensical, but he feels he can’t be blamed when Harry is brushing his lips over his nipples, broad hands moving around Draco’s body to secure a grip over his ass.

“Is this?” Harry asks, mouth nearing the V of Draco’s hips, the edge of the trail of hair leading to his crotch. “Electric?”

Draco swears, fingers running through Harry’s hair and finding a grip, hard. “If you don’t put your mouth on me right now I swear I — yes.”

He spreads his thighs to accommodate Harry between them, one hand gripping Harry’s hair and the other curled around the cushion over his head. It is electric, the way Harry knows exactly which buttons to push, sliding a finger inside him while keeping him on his tongue. He’s a prodigy in this too, the star player who knows every move in the playbook that is Draco’s body.

It feels like no time at all, no effort at all before Harry is pulling back, dragging Draco closer by the waist and working himself inside. The feel of it, the sound of them together, the look into Harry’s open gaze, his sweat dripping onto Draco’s chest and his hands underneath Draco’s back, holding him, pulling him onto him, have Draco nearing release almost too fast for his liking, but the night is young and it’s been so long that he lets himself go, a cord snapping in his core, eyes open as he watches Harry watch him come apart.

“Come on,” he says once he’s come down, lifting his hips, shifting his weight onto his shoulders. “Show me what you got, Potter.”

Harry groans and leans forward, kisses Draco’s jaw and his neck, and drives his hips faster. Draco wraps his arms around Harry’s back, moves with him as much as he can in the tight embrace, and remains close as Harry meets his own peak and tumbles down the edge.

They lie together for a couple minutes afterwards, panting into each other’s skins, basking in the afterglow.

“Some pro-athletes. We have the stamina of two eighteen year old virgins,” Draco mutters into Harry’s hair after a while, and feels Harry’s chest rumble with his laughter. The room is cast in the warm glow of the foot-lamp that stands beside the sofa they just fucked in, exactly like two eighteen year old virgins having the chance to touch for the first time in their lives.

Harry always goes boneless and slow after a good lay, so Draco eases him off his body with tenderness, a gentle hand to Harry’s chest, followed by a kiss.

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He whispers.

Harry groans. “I don’t want to move.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed. Some idiot drove me to the ground on the pitch today.”

He stands up and shakes out his legs, testing the soreness of his muscles. There’ll be an ache tomorrow, but nothing he can’t handle.

Despite his complaint, Harry is already standing up too, coming up behind Draco, a hand finding its way to the flat of his belly, his forehead on Draco’s shoulder as though he can’t bear not to touch him for even a second.

“Bed it is,” he declares against the skin of Draco’s shoulder, sounding halfway asleep already. Draco huffs a laugh and pulls him towards the bedroom, pausing at the kitchenette to grab two glasses of water that he watches Harry drink in three gulps, a couple drops sliding down the sides of his mouth, into his beard and down his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“What?” He asks when he catches Draco watching him, and Draco shakes his head and pulls him to bed. He’s so handsome it’s genuinely upsetting sometimes. Draco thinks he’d throw a tantrum about it daily if it weren’t for the fact that he gets to touch him.

They try their best, but they don’t manage a second round before their eyes fall shut, tucked into each other like two hands cupped under a stream of water, tumbling into a satisfied, exhausted sleep.

Harry wakes him with a kiss before daybreak, the last of the night chilling the room and puckering Draco’s skin.

“Do you have to go already?” Draco asks, one eye still closed and a hand curled possessively around Harry’s bicep, not entirely on purpose.

Harry shakes his head, kisses him again with a gentleness that is meant to go nowhere but extend this kiss, warm and sweet.

“I thought we could talk.”

Draco is nodding before fully grasping the meaning, but even once he does he’s not tempted to back away. Must be the night, still cocooning them, must be Harry’s arms around him that are making him brave, but he’s not nervous anymore, not now that he’s remembered what they’re like, together.

“It is electric,” he says, suspecting that’s what Harry wants to talk about. “It’s always electric with you.”

The smile blooms slowly, lighting up Harry’s face from within, his beautiful eyes, unhidden this early in the morning, his glasses still on the bedside table. Harry sits up a little, clears his throat. It seems like he’s been gearing up for this, he’s squaring his shoulders the way he does before trying a dangerous feint, before performing a play that will have Draco biting dust. This insane, wonder of an athlete. Draco forces himself to shake the last of the sleep away, to focus on him, on what he wants to say.

“I know that … so many of us want you,” Harry starts. “On your team, on mine, the whole league, actually. But I —”

He looks like he’s stating an absolute truth, like he has irrefutable proof, and Draco is taken aback. He knows some of the guys find him attractive, but that’s not the same as being wanted. He shakes his head. “What? Where did you get that?”

“I’ve talked about it with the guys, but that’s not the point,” he adds hurriedly when he sees his eyes widen. Draco hasn’t said a word to anyone, not out of shame, but out of sureness that they were sneaking around, that they were making it a point to hide. Apparently, he was wrong. Harry continues, “What I want to say is … I know we’ve not agreed on anything, that you’re free to want others, be with whoever you want to be with. I thought that you knew where I stood, that if you weren’t saying anything it was because you didn’t want the same thing I did, but it’s been brought to my attention that if I’ve not made an honest offer, I can’t assume you’re saying no.”

Draco’s heart is hammering inside his chest, inside his throat. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but if he’s right, it seems Harry is saying …

“I don’t want this to be a once a month thing. I want to bring you home, I want you to meet my family, and I want the guys to know that I’m saying no to all the people they set me up with because I’m taken and completely uninterested in anyone else. Are you … is that something you want, too? I know you might have better offers, but I – ”

The covers crinkle under Draco’s knees as he sits up, throws a leg over Harry’s body so he can fully sit on his lap and brings him forward by the neck.

“You beautiful idiot. What could be a better offer? Why would I care about any other offers when I have the best one right here?”

They’re kissing, and Harry’s gasping, and Draco’s frenzied heart pounds against his sternum. He nods into the kiss, feels dizzy with how much he wants what’s being offered. Fuck. There’s nothing he wants more.

Harry pulls back a little, whispers: “Does this mean we’re — ?”

“Yes, fuck. It’s — The game’s the game.”

“What — That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Shut up. It’s your quote.”

Then they’re laughing into a new kiss, and it’s not the first, or even the tenth time they’re together like this, but Draco’s heart still goes crazy for this man, for his unlimited talent, his openness, his electric company. Quarter finals are coming up, then semis, then they might meet again on the pitch and Draco might lose and throw a strop and want to tear the hair out of his head over the beautiful Quidditch Harry plays, and then they’ll get to go home and celebrate a victory. No matter who takes the trophy. That’ll be the game.

Read On Ao3

#quidditch rivals but ohh they’re secret lovers bet NOBODY saw that coming #kinda unsure about the tone shift at the end but ITS LATE I’m sorry ok #I just wanted earnest Harry which is MY FAVORITW THING #drarry #drarry fic #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #my writing #mywriting

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