#SHE LOOKS SICK ASF

[mumintroll]

if my mam doesnt break up with her boyfriend this year im killing him & myself

[meathounding]

anyways tho i support women’s wrongs

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. This part- fingering, fucking, loss of virginity, masturbation (suguru) finger sucking, hate sex, light angst. WC this part- 6.4k

Will be three parts or so <3 Plz share/comment/ like if you enjoy!!

Masterlist - Playlist - Part Two>>> Based on Clan Leader Geto

Part One

You were to marry Suguru Geto, curse user, rumored cult leader, and clan leader to the major four clans there were. The Kamos, The Zenin, The Gojos and The Getos, the main four clans that you all know there are. As for Suguru’s family, it turns out he is now the clan leader for them, he is the one that they are now riding the whole line of the Geto Clan on.

Marrying you.

You stand there nervously, tummy feeling sick in your pretty white robes as you stare at this psychotic man, this man that thinks people without power are lesser, and perhaps worthless. Perhaps he wishes to eradicate you all, yet for his duty to the Geto clan, it leaves him to have to be with you, the chosen one from your family, for as long as you two were alive.

Maybe Suguru Geto back then was tolerable, back when he was just a clan leader and not all the rumors that are held, but now!? Being his bride was not just terrifying, it was a literal death sentence. After you’d given him heirs you were absolutely sure he’d eradicate you and perhaps anyone you’ve ever known and loved, including your family, who’d just given you the saddest of looks.

They weren’t here, you supposed even they couldn’t live with just handing their only daughter off to him, maybe before, you’d have been excited, remembering meeting him when you were just a teenager, he was a little older than you. Handsome and sweet with this smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks, he was so courteous and sweet, but that was a different man.

You look now, as you nervously step down the aisle, eyes of everyone on you aside from him, Suguru Geto. He’s decked out in brilliant emerald robes, laughing and murmuring to several girls near him. His long black hair is half up, showcasing his handsome features, yes if perhaps he wasn’t a psycho killer, you could find him attractive, not be sick to your stomach.

As some long red headed lady taps his shoulder, her long nails against him, he finally sees you then, and his jaw locks, you feel those violet eyes on you like a physical touch. You doubt he remembers your one meeting years ago, you doubt he recognizes you or cares, or sees you as anything but a nuisance, a duty. But you see his narrowed eyes dip down your body, taking you in.

Your heart hammers as you get closer, a mix of sorcerers scowling or smirking at you, along with the Geto clan looking curiously, murmuring here and there. Everyone hoped to stay on Suguru Geto’s good side, if he had one, you weren’t quite sure, feeling the insane energy emanating from him as he studies you. Another step, another click of your heel echoing in the immaculate hall.

It’s hard to be impressed with the beauty of it, of the Geto estate, surely it’s one of the nicest there are, there are four major families, and the Geto family is one. You don’t know how you ended up being selected, your family is certainly wealthy, but you wonder at your horrific luck now as you stand before him.

You have to lean your head back just to look at the tall man, towering over everyone in the room, he makes you feel so small, even smaller with his quiet assessment, as the room is full of hushed whispers. Half of them surely want you to just die, half of them want an heir from you, you imagine this man in front of you leaning down wants both.

Suguru eyes you carefully, yes you’re beautiful, but you clearly have not an ounce of power, not an ounce of any useful energy. You’re clearly just some pathetic little mortal, which disgusts him, you’re tiny and pathetic, useless. He’s so annoyed this is what he has to do, but he certainly can’t just not fulfill these obligations, as Suguru needs the backing of his family to gain more power.

Already so powerful, and with an enormous, loyal following, he detests that he has to in any way deal with his parents still, but he supposes he will handle it for now. Surely soon he’d have the precious few mortals he allows to live, to be loyal servants at his beck and call, pathetic ants that work for their lives he allows them.

Your eyes lower nervously, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lights of the soft chandelier hanging above you glittering on your smooth skin. He feels it, you’re terrified, which makes him smirk just a bit, as you should know your place, under him, beneath him, perhaps he can handle you if you’ll be just a little docile. You are pleasing enough to look at.

Something familiar stirs when you look back at him, with eyes glimmering with unshed tears, your lower lip caught in your row of upper teeth. He remembers it like a fog, being at Jujutsu high with his best friends, right before he started to realize how horrible humans were, God he’d been so naive then. Your families introduced you two, but you were young.

He remembers thinking you were pretty, being just a little shy actually, which is so laughable now. You’d met Satoru then too, and he could swear you’d made eyes on him, on his old best friend who now is his enemy, which hurts Suguru in many, many ways, as having Satoru back on the right side, his side. There was no denying Satoru was the strongest, but Suguru was coming for him.

He smiles a bit as he thinks of it, and his pretty face looks terrifying for a moment, making your breath catch, as the priest begins the ceremony, and Suguru rips his eyes from you. You eye black gauged earrings, alone with some little barbell in his eyebrow, details that almost make him seem like a human, but you suppose those are just from long ago.

Suguru feels Manami’s long nails against his back, he turns and smirks at her, ignoring the pretty, but pathetic human in front of him. Manami and him have long hooked up together, though Suguru partakes in many women, she seems to be the main one by his side. Just this morning she’d sucked him off, he had not been in any sort of mood however to do more.

Knowing he’d have to fulfill his stupid duties were irritating him to know end, and no amount of sucking was fixing his shitty mood. He also sees the girls he truly sees as his real daughters, Mimiko and Nanako whispering about the bride just a bit. He errantly thinks he hears ‘pretty’ but he remembers how young they are, and what he keeps them a bit sheltered from still.

They didn’t know all of his plans yet, they were just girls still.

“You may kiss the bride.” Suguru hears errantly, he sighs, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, hopefully the only time he’ll have to, but something literally jolts through his body as he does. He pulls back, glaring down at you, gripping your wrist, tiny in his massive grip, making you wince a bit, looking up at him with frightened eyes.

“Do you have any cursed energy!?” He demands, narrowing those intense eyes of his, you step back, shaking your head quickly.

“You know I do not. Why ask?” You whisper, he grabs your wrist even tighter, sensing every bit of your body, finding nothing. Why then, had he felt that!? Some odd shock through his system!?

He’d never kiss you again, it is quite annoying.

As the ceremony goes, and Suguru has many people around him, including some redhead you notice is all over him, you come across two little girls, who you’ve been informed are like daughters to Suguru. They both study you curiously, the little blond with pigtails smiling at you.

“You’re just a human, right?” She says, and you nod, shyly.

“Does it… suck to have no powers?” The little brunette says, and you sigh.

“Honestly, no. I don’t want all of that responsibility I guess? Do you all…” They both hold balls of energy, and you step back, heart racing as they giggle.

“Girls, not at the ceremony.” You’re almost shocked to hear him sound- kind, affectionate?- from across the room, chuckling a bit.

“Fine, dad.” They speak at the same time you notice, then they bombard you with more and more questions, while Suguru watches curiously, Manami murmuring things she’d do to him in his ear, as the other members start to dance. Someone dances with you, then, and Suguru…

Well he doesn’t fucking like it.

Why!? You’re nothing really.

When you’re finally done in the ceremony, and you’ve been dressed in some dainty little see through slip, you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, as they finally leave after slathering you in fragrant oil, brushing your hair till it gleamed. You eye yourself in the mirror nervously, seeing the color on your cheeks, the way your eyes look so… frightened really.

Being promised to Suguru meant being sheltered, and aside from making out and some touching when you could sneak out, you were indeed a virgin, and having your first time with a dude who wants to kill you just doesn’t sound fun. You sure wouldn’t let him see how afraid you were, not when he walks into the room, a goblet of wine in his hand, sighing and shutting the door.

You’re tense as he eyes your, thin transparent material showcasing your curves, the nip of your waist, the just of your hips, and most tantalizingly the swell of your breasts. His breath catches at just how good you do look, his cock twitching in response, irritating him to no end.

Perhaps this is just his stupid body’s response, but he does not get attracted to humans, they disgust him, even the pretty ones. But you are… exceptionally sexy right now, could it be all the wine, could it be that he saw you before he changed? Suguru shoves all those thoughts back, gulping down the rest of the red wine now, a drip falling from the corner, and you’re just standing there.

“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbles, and you glare then, making him smirk but also making his cock even more full of blood.

“Let’s, I don’t want this any more than you.” You mumble, unlacing the ribbons over your gown then, and he’s irritated at how bad his hands itch to take it off you, instead raising a brow.

“Oh I doubt that, at least you get to fuck me, someone with power. I am the one that has to fuck a pathetic monkey.” Your scowl deepens, as he unlaces his belt, letting his robes fall, and you see his perfect body, well formed pecs and cut abdomen, lines and swirls of tattoos all over his body, even on his corded arms.

You falter for only a moment, because his body is literally perfect, down to the trail of dark hair below his flat belly button, but you quickly shove all that out, ignoring the way your body is reacting to just seeing him. “Monkey, huh, is that what you call humans?”

“Sure is, pathetic monkeys, lesser developed and-” He pauses when your dress falls in a silky pool to your ankles, and you stand there naked fully, his heart dropping into his damn stomach.

His cock is leaking precum just staring at you, god you’re fucking beautiful, so beautiful he doesn’t think he can put a word to it. It’s as if his cock doesn’t recognize you’re some pathetic human, neither do hands that itch to touch, and his tongue that wants to just lick you.

Fuck you’re annoying.

Why are you built like this!? Your perfect tits alone are making him ache for you so badly he can hardly breathe, as they rise and fall with your own nervous breaths, and you look right at him, boldly. Suguru tries to avert his eyes, to play it off in any way, but he’s awestruck, lips parted, as he watches you cross your arms under those breasts, sees a hint of a pussy he wants to bury himself inside.

Fuck if you were just… if you just had some powers, he’d have so much fun with you, god he’d tell you how pretty you were. He’d make you cum on his mouth over and over, feel you gripping his long locks, but he can’t because you’re… you’re nothing, really, just a monkey… he has to remember.

You see red lining his perfect cheekbones, making you curious at him until he clears his throat, averting his eyes and releasing his hair, letting it cascade over broad shoulders. “Let’s just… get it done.” You murmur then, sitting on the futon now, decked with reds and golds in the luxurious room they had made for the two of you.

That’s when Suguru sees your perfect little pussy, making him bump into the side table, you blink a bit, curiously at him, thighs spread as you rest on your elbows. He cannot even function, you are so perfect he hates it, surely there is something about you, some energy they’re missing, there is no way that you’re a human, with such effects on him!?

He lets his pants fall as he tries to pull himself together, and that’s when you see him, rock hard and thick, far, far too many inches. You panic, wondering just how the fuck that’s gonna fit, you’d had fingers inside you that hurt a bit before, this was probably gonna wreck you. You almost shut your thighs, watching his reddened tip drool pearly drops of precum.

Sheltered but not stupid, he was clearly ready. You raise a brow. “You seem pretty… ready for such a monkey in front of you, hmm?”

Suguru glares now, grabbing you by the hair, cock near your face, you wonder if he’ll shove it in your mouth wildly, but he’s just pulling at your hair, making you gasp out in pain, as he tilts your head back. “Do you even know what to do, pathetic little fucking monkey!?”

“I haven’t before, no.” You whisper then, and he pauses, gulping down some horrible sense of guilt. Not only has he not been with a virgin, he knows he’s clearly not your choice for this.

What is it that's making him feel so much?

He hates it. He hates you.

Is it the fact that he can see you’re afraid, he lays with women who coo over him, who are soaking wet as he just smiles at them, women who drop to their knees if he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he shouldn’t care, right? What are humans to a sorcerer?

“I know you need an heir, so just… put it in me.” You say, he chuckles then, shaking his head as he shoves you back on the bed, bouncing just slightly when he rests over you on an elbow, sucking on two fingers then.

It’s so lewd, how his mouth wraps the thick digits, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them, before he sinks two right in your tight little cunt, making you gasp at the stretch, and making him exhale, holding back a moan. You’re so tight, clenching him, your gummy little walls convulsing, making him picture just how good you’ll feel around his cock.

“Do you have to!? Just get it in.” You whisper, and he glares down at you, lips parted at your utter lack of knowledge and insolent mouth.

“I can’t, you’re too tight, stupid monkey.” You glare and shove at his chest, only making him chuckle more. “You think I wanna prep or even touch you?”

“You think I w-want those or that in me!? No, just do it. Stop that… touching me inside… mnh!” At the sound of your own moan you cover your mouth, gasping as your eyes shoot up to his, he tilts his head, long silky hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both, as he presses on that spot again.

This time your eyes roll back, and he knows he’s found it, that spot in your pretty pussy that is just a little spongier, as your cunt starts drooling, and his cock has to press against the bed, for any pressure. Not only do you feel so good, so wet, you’re also fucking gorgeous as your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he looks down at the mess you’re making.

“Messy little thing, tsk.” He says then, and you’re struggling to form a word when he puts his fingers back in, building pressure in your tummy that feels far too good, making you hate him more. “Hear her, huh? Monkey that excited?”

“D-don’t hear shit, don’t even l-like it.” You manage to utter out, and he’s smirking down at you, kissing down your breasts far too fondly, moaning as your walls are fluttering around his fingers, sucking a pretty, puffy nipple in his mouth. “Just fuck me, would you?”

“It will hurt you… I-” You pause, blinking as he leans up from licking and biting your breasts, little trails of saliva, as you look at him with wide eyes.

“What do you care, you don’t need me to like it to give me an heir. Just get it done so I can go to sleep.”

Your words hit him then, why does he care? Suguru could slaughter a village but can’t imagine fucking you without preparing you properly, fuck he wanted you to like it, to want him. And why!?

“You won’t be able to take me, tiny pathetic little cunt can’t.” You scowl as he sucks on a nipple again, scissoring his fingers in your cunt now, making lewd squishing sounds as you feel you’re soaked, mortifying you.

“Stop sucking on them, you don’t need to.” You shove him again, and he glares, leaning over you now, intimidating as he curls slick fingers, making you gasp in pleasure, biting your lower lip hard so you don’t scream out how good it is.

“If I must breed you, I’ll do it how I wish to. Stop acting as if you can tell me what to do.”

“I hate you.” You smack him then, earning a psychotic glare, and you realize fuck you’ve messed up, as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them right in your mouth, making you choke on them.

“Will you shut up, stupid monkey, fuck.” He’s then lining up his cock with your entrance, shoving your thighs up high. “Fine then, wanna get it over with, huh?”

You nod eagerly, hating every second under him, even if your body betrayed you. “Sure do, fucking psycho.”

“Psycho, huh?” You nod again, then gasp in pain as he fills you, stuffing your cunt full in one stroke, making it burn even though you are soaked and prepared somewhat, nothing could really prepare for his huge cock inside you.

“Ah!” You blink back tears, tears that bother him, and they shouldn’t, but now he wants to tenderly brush back your hair, that’s fallen on your brow. He wants to pull back out and prep you more, but you’re an insolent brat who won’t even let him, and he shouldn’t want to.

But your pussy gripping him drives him insane, to the point he could cum in a stroke or two, it’s gripping that fucking good. He can’t take it, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, so you don’t see an already pussy drunk face when he pulls back, shoving his cock even deeper, and feels your nails in his back, digging, hears your little cries of pain.

He wants cries of pleasure.

What the fuck are you doing to him!?

Is it human to have a pussy like this, he wonders, biting back a moan and leaning up, grabbing at one of your thighs to sink deeper, and you hate that it starts to feel good, when he starts fucking into you. Thick cock stretching, as your cunt gushes around him, his tip dragging on some spot that makes your eyes roll back again in pleasure, and this fucker notices.

“She’s fuckin’ soaking my cock, huh? Like it, pathetic little monkey, a sorcerer over you?” You manage to glare, shaking your head, his attractive smirk widening, as he fucks you deeper and harder, and you’re a tremblind mess under him. “Oh no, you don’t hmm?”

“N-no, hate it. Hate you.” He scowls now, as you gulp down moans and cries he’s dying to hear, so he pays attention, to when you’re gasping, clamping down, realizing the spot and angle you’re dying over, so Suguru grins down at you, lifting your thighs up so high he slams your cervix. “Ah!”

“There it is.” He whispers to himself, pressing on the backs of your thighs and slamming your cervix, over and over, as you’re moaning so sexy, your back arching, while he’s folding you damn near in half now. “F-fuck… you feel so…” He stops himself, he can’t say that.

It feels so perfect.

Feels like you’re made to take his cock.

You’re so pretty under him, perspiration on your forehead, eyebrows scrunched, lips red from you biting them, your eyes glazed over. God you’re gorgeous, as his cock is throbbing inside your tight walls, and you’re struggling so hard to act like you hate it, when he’s hitting that spot over and over, his tip dragging on it again and again. You moan out loud, whining when he rolls his hips bottoming out.

“J-just cum, finish it. W-wanna be d-done.” You whisper, he glares now at you.

“Not enjoying it at all?”

“Hate it. B-boring.” Suguru laughs now, shaking his head, slamming into you, and you’re screaming out, convulsing, feeling pressure build and build, realizing with a panic then.

You’re gonna cum.

Not for him, dammit!

You struggle to hold back, shaking your head and covering your face, when he lets your thighs fall to the side, yanking your hands off your face, pinning your wrists above your head with a strong hand, long fingers wrapping your delicate wrists like they’re nothing. You gasp at it, as his other hand yanks you by your hip, slamming you down his length.

“I’ll look upon your face.” He says through his teeth, dying to watch it when you cum, and fuck he feels it, you’re so close. He wants it then, he needs it, you to cum all over him, milking him so good, and your eyes go wide in shock, but they’re already so fucked out. He’s leaking precum inside you, dragging on that spot and watching you unravel for him.

“Why do y-you wanna- mnh, f-fuck!” You’re clinging to the sheets, when Suguru would like you to cling to him, as he sends you over the fucking edge, and he watches your gorgeous face screw up in pleasure, making his cock pulse.

Fuck you’re pretty.

Fuck he hates you for doing this.

He’s never even felt anything better than this.

“Can’t help yourself, huh monkey? Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” He whispers, you shake your head, still pinned under him, and he lays over you, grinding his cock inside you, dark hair on his pelvis just pressing on your neglected clitoris, then you feel it, and he moans. “There it is.”

“No, no, no… f-fuck you… hate… ah!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you can’t even see, all while this psycho watches avidly, and you hate him more for it, for giving you this orgasm that almost makes you faint. “Sh-shit… mnh…”

Your cunt soaks his cock as the orgasm wrecks your brain, as you’re convulsing around his thick veiny cock, with its tip pressing into your cervix, and you’re twitching under him, pathetic. You gasp as he fucks you through it, disoriented and blinking rapidly at how euphoric you feel, listening to the grunts and groans of his and the squelching of your cunt.

“Oh my… f-fuck…” Suguru groans now, unable to hold back any longer, violet eyes so dilated they look black as they drink in your face, lips hovering over yours, cock fucking harder and harder.

You almost cum again, clenching around him, as he moves over you, stuttering in his rhythm finally, faltering just a bit, gripping you tightly as he moans out, his breath hot against your lips, lips he wants to kiss, a mouth he wants to spit inside, tongue he wants to feel on his skin. You’re maddening, he realizes then, as he gets closer to his release, his cock throbbing at your pussy milking him so good.

“Mnh… shit I hate… you…” You whisper, as you’re cumming again, and he grips your wrists so hard they’ve gone numb, starting to pump hot loads of cum inside, you, groaning out loud at how good it feels.

“Milking me, shit… f-feels so fucking perf-” Suguru holds it back, luckily you’re too fucked out to care, as his cum fills you, so hot and gooey, and you’re both gasping for breaths, the room quiet save front he sounds of his cock slipping inside you, and your hearts pounding. “Filled you so fucking good, monkey, hmm?”

“G-good, it’s over…” You whisper, damn near delirious as your aftershocks make your sticky walls grip him, he gasps at it, pumping even more, as he looks into your eyes, feeling too much.

“Y-yes. Over.” He manages to spill out, and you whimper when he kisses your neck, something he shouldn’t indulge in, easing off your wrists and looking at them, his hand left prints clearly.

You ease them down, fingers wresting on his shoulders for a moment, a moment that feels too good, too natural, before you press on him. “Can you go, then?”

“What?” He blinks in confusion, cock still inside of you, fuck he never even wants to leave, so hot and wet and-

“Your seed is inside me, we should be good for now. I’m… sore. Please get off of me.” You look away now, and Suguru’s pulse races, as you refuse to look at him whatsoever when he gets off, easing his cock out of you with a messy pop sound, tensing as he sees the evidence of your innocence between your thighs.

“Let me clean you up.” He murmurs, and you glare, shaking your head and closing your legs then. “Would you just-”

“Fuck you, get out. I don’t need you cleaning me up, we’re good until… I guess whenever we have to do this again.” You stand on wobbly legs, as Suguru stands, looming over you as you head to the shower adjoining the room, grabbing you by the top of your arm. “What!?”

“So eager to run off, monkey? You should thank me.”

You laugh then, ignoring the throb of your pussy and the pounding in your head, fuck him he felt so good in you, you’ve never even felt that good before, not from little orgasms you gave yourself. You hate him more for it, not only did your first time have to be with this ass of a man, a psycho killer, you also came when you didn’t even want to, making it all worse/

“Thank you!? For what!”

“For cumming inside you.” He presses you against the wall then, looming over you so tall, his sweet breath like the grapes of the wine as he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “For making a monkey like you cum.”

“You didn’t make me cum, stupid psycho.” You glare right at him, chest heaving as you speak the lies, but he laughs right down at you, thumb brushing over a lip with teeth indentations from how hard you bit it.

“Didn’t cum? You’re a fucking liar, on top of being pathetic. Useless.”

“Useless, yes except to have your stupid heir. I can’t wait to get pregnant, actually, so I’ll never have to get touched again.”

“Oh yeah, so fucking horrible?”

“Terrible.”

“And you’re disgusting to me.”

“Good!” You shove at his strong chest, slick with sweat, and pause there then, as does he, a hand now entwined at the nape of your neck, as he dies to kiss you, brutally, over and over, but he just holds you there. “Am I done for the night Lord Geto, or whatever the fuck you like to be called?”

He’d like you to scream Suguru.

Fuck.

“Will you just let me clean you up, it was your first time and-”

“Oh no, you’re not gonna play like you care at all. We did what we had to do, what we both had to do, neither of us wanted it, or enjoyed it. Right?” You demand then, raising a brow, and he scowls.

“Not right, and I’m just-”

“I remember it, meeting you, you were… sweet.”

He laughs then. “What?”

“You were, and him? I’d have been happy to do this, but you? I don’t wanna look at you and think of it. Let me go.” He scowls as he goes to grab his clothes now, and you lean against the wall, covering your face, not wanting him to see just how you are affected by him.

“I’ll be putting a curse at your door, to make sure you don’t run.” He says then, making you blink in shock, seeing he’s dressed finally, putting his hair back up.

“I have nowhere to run to.” He pauses at that, jaw locked. “But go ahead, maybe it’ll be better company than you.”

Suguru scoffs. “Clean up.”

“Get out.” You order, finally he turns, walking out, leaving you to step into the shower, letting the hot spray hit you, sore in places you’ve never imagined, thinking just how much you hate him.

You’re sobbing then, under the coverage of the shower, where no one would see you, see what he’s done to you, your mental state in ruins. You scrub everywhere his elegant fingers touched, everywhere his lush lips kissed, hissing when you wash your sore pussy, looking down at your fingers, finding his cum pouring out of you. Hot, sticky white cum washed by the shower.

Steam fills as you slide down to sit in the shower, resting your head on your knees, hating him so much you can barely breathe. Bad enough he fucked you, why did he have to make you enjoy it, why did he act like he cared for your pleasure, cared for you after even? A lie, all a lie, and it’s the last thing you need. 

You will hate him.

Outside your room, Suguru leans his back against your door, trying to catch his breath, head swirling with you, hands shaking as they brush back his hair. You have him shaking, you annoying, stupid brat of a girl, who wouldn’t even let him try to care for you, at all.

Why’d he want to though? You were right, your duty was fulfilled for the night, he should stop thinking of how he’d love to be in that shower with you, how he’s dying to be back inside you, imagining making you admit how good it felt. He could feel your slick on his cock still, wondering if you feel him pouring out of you, dying to breed you again, again, again.

He detests you.

Summoning a curse, a rather derpy looking one shaped like a bull with several eyes, he plops him next to your door now, this is a docile curse he’s had since his youth, bringing back too many memories. Of being happy, of laughing, of a girl named Riko, right before he’d snapped, her riding this curse on its back as they tried their best to save her.

It proved how disgusting humans were that day, lest he ever forget, his fist clenched as he struggles to gain his resolve, looking down at the creature now. “Guard this door.” It nods, tongue lolling out, Suguru sighs then. “Also make sure you… care for the girl in this room. Yes?”

It nods again, as Suguru does not know if you are safe really, surely no one would go against him, but there is much hatred already for humans, and many, many people hate you. But he wants you to be safe, otherwise he’ll just get another bride thrown on him, and who knows if he’d hate her more.

Suguru ends up in his room now, sighing as he sees Manami there with another woman from his cult, he shakes his head as they try to disrobe him. “No, I am not in any sort of mood for it.”

“But Suguru, it must've been awful.” Manami cooes, and the other girl nods, as they rub up and down his arms, making him feel disgusted.

How?

How do they, powerful women, make him disgusted now? He owes you no loyalty, he did not plan to only be with you, but the thought of anyone but you actually makes him sick. What sort of witchcraft do you possess, some new undetectable kind that he hasn’t figured out, to make him feel like this? Are you some weapon to destroy his fucking plans?

“Go. Now.” Suguru orders then, and they pout as they leave, but Suguru can’t get his mind off you, not when he’s washing you off in the shower, every vivid thought of making you enjoy it fills his mind.

Suguru hates you more when he’s stroking his cock to the thought of you whimpering, begging for him, on your knees with your tongue out. He’s moaning as he pinches his tip, he already came so much but he can’t stop how hard he is, thinking of how your eyes would cross as he fucked your throat, as he came so deep and you swallowed him greedy.

Thinking of you riding him, your tits bouncing right in his face, your thighs squeezing his face as he lapped his cup out of your pussy after. ‘F-fuck, you like it, don’t you’ he’s muttering, wet hair sticking to his back as water pounds down, and he’s stroking his cock faster and faster, eyes shutting, vivid pictures of you everywhere.

‘That’s it, good girl, cumming just for me, mine, aren’t you’ he’s stuttering, saying stupid insane shit, so high off your pussy he can’t even talk himself out of it, not when his big hand strokes his thick shaft over and over.

When Suguru cums again he moans out loud, hunching over and gasping for a breath, hating you more for what you’ve done when his sticky cum pours all out of his hand now. He rinses himself off, shaking his head and covering it with his other hand, realizing jerking off was nothing like cumming inside you, like fucking your perfect little pussy.

Just who the fuck are you?

******

The next day of being Suguru’s wife, you open the door and gasp, seeing some bull shaped creature who’s grinning at you, several eyes wide open as it licks your leg, making you squeak. “What!?”

“He likes you.” Comes Mimiko’s voice, she’s poking around on her phone, and you take a breath, smiling a bit.

Just because Suguru is a psychotic dick, it doesn’t mean you’d take it out on little girls, or oddly cute curses. “Can I pet it?” You ask, and Nanako giggles next to her sister, stepping closer.

“He’s docile.” She pets him then, and the thing damn near purrs, you bend down on your knees now, petting him yourself, sighing.

“He’s kinda cute?” They burst out in laughter, leaving the hall then, as you find the first bit of comfort in one of stupid, psycho Suguru’s curses. “You like me?”

He nods, licking on your cheek, you swipe at it, wincing as it runs off, and suddenly Suguru Geto is standing right in front of you, as you’re just on your knees still, looking up at him. Vivid insane thoughts fill you, as you feel your tummy clench, pussy so sore from him still, thinking of the dreams you’d had of this ass of a man, and now you’re just… there.

He freezes when he sees your hair fall back, loose and flowing, shimmering likely from your shower, and you’re right where he pictured you, what he jerked himself to over and over. The urge to pull out his cock and fuck your pretty face was overwhelming, driving him so insane his cock responds violently, already leaking precum, annoying him to no end.

He’d turned down more women this morning, because now he’s coming to a really annoying realization- he wants you. Only you. He’s blaming his stupid body, for wanting a petty human, but it’s undeniable, while you just blink and look up for a moment, before you clear your throat, standing and grabbing the door way, looking away now.

“Where’d the curse go? I like him.”

“You like him!?”

“Better than you, I was right. He’s cuter.” You smile then, and he glares, grabbing you right by your throat, only making you laugh.

“Who’s the psycho here, me or you?” He whispers, and you grip his wrist now, as he looks how pretty your neck is with his hand around it, as he looks at glossy lips he wants to kiss.

“Gonna kill me before the heir?” You whisper, when he squeezes just so.

“Tempting to do so.” He whispers against your lips, and you come to a very annoying realization of your own, when your nipples tighten, when your pussy drips from him choking you.

You want this psycho.

Just your body, you’ll just blame that, but it’s undeniable, and it makes you despise him more. “Go for it, put me outta my misery. Won’t have to look at you.” You say, he squeezes harder, stepping a little further in the room, as you feel lightheaded, and fucking horny.

What’s wrong with you!?

“Why don’t we work harder on making it happen then?”

“Now!?” You demand, and he shuts the door, smirking, undoing his black robes as you rub your sore neck.

“Now.”

Taglist open for parts two and three if you're not on it already <3 Hope you enjoyed this, I know Geto doesn't hit like my Gojo or Sukuna posts, but I rly tried lol. Can't wait to see what ya'll think!

Taglist #1- @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @rjreins @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @angelzrulez21-blog @espresso1patronum @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @silvarys @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @tojicvmslut @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @soyokosuguru @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @voideddd @maddyhehehehhe @norikuna @yenayaps @alygator77 perm tags (rest in rbs) @honeybunnnnie @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw

[ham1lton]

what about a toto’s assistant yn…..walk with me now…..

SHUT UP AND DRIVE

summary: y/n hates her boss but she knows no one else is going to give her the benefits that he does. oh, and the salary is pretty good too!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by yourbestie, georgerussell63 and 20,738 others

yourusername: back at it 🙂

view all comments

georgerussell63: lovely to see you again yn! 😃

*liked by yourusername*

user1: um girl why are u never happy 😭

— user2: serving face but never a smile.

— user3: she hates that man and she’s real for it.

user4: love seeing black queens living a soft life 💕

— user5: wym soft life that man stresses her out everyday. her melanin is the only reason why she doesn’t look haggard

user6: toto being yn’s boss is actually hilarious bc i just KNOW she has a burner account to drag him online

user7: she clocking in every day like it’s a prison sentence while he’s out here living his best life 😭

user8: toto wolff is her boss but let’s be real, she runs that man behind the scenes

— user10: saw them in real life and she was genuinely manhandling him to get him to the right place right time. she was on a MISSION.

user9: the way she always looks so FED UP every time mercedes fumbles the strategy 💀

user11: i bet he calls her into his office just to make her life difficult

user12: if i was yn and toto wolff was my boss i’d simply start a coup

user13: she’s holding this team together with sheer will and spite

user14: toto thinking he’s in charge while yn is the only reason the garage isn’t in flames every weekend

user15: she got promoted and now she has to deal with him every day… honestly she deserves a raise

user16: um i couldn’t do this job bc i’d be begging to (REDACTED) him every night…. i mean look at him. #NEEDTHAT

— user9: you’re so sick.

— user9: real asf though

user17: every time mercedes makes a bad call i KNOW yn is somewhere side-eyeing toto from across the garage

user18: “the salary is good” girl blink twice if you need help 😭

user19: you’re glowing babe!!!

— yourusername: new skincare routine 😊 thank you!

user20: she’s gorgeous!!! and he’s … there.

*liked by yourusername.*

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author’s note: don’t write for toto but eh. hope u enjoy xx

[jinxificada]

stress to relieve, need to fulfill.

jinx x fem!reader

summary: what’s there to do when your friend keeps pushing your boundaries after a long, tiring week? only wrong answers.

notes: nsfw, modern au. jinx and reader smokes both nicotine and weed. stoner reader. high sex. u know mee, self indulgent asf. if you see first person pronouns, no you didn’t. 2,8k wc.

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

you see her leaning against the railing, shoulders pushed behind and back straight, smiling smugly and flirty as her head tilted to the side.

isn’t she stunning? breathtaking?

but all that attitude was directed to ekko, who had her almost trapped as both of his hands also rested on the railing, each one next to her waist.

“jinx, hurry!” you groaned from your spot on the sidewalk, throwing your head back in annoyance. you had finished your cigarette two minutes ago, growing impatient by the second.

the wind brushes against her hair and she tucks a piece behind her ear. god, the way ekko’s body towers over hers makes you want to be sick. it's a disgusting feeling, seeing her flirting so easily.

"I'm comiiiiing!" she calls out in annoyance, ekko lets out a light chuckled as she brushes past him with a playful roll of her eyes. she always knows how to make those boys crazy. "jesus, did I take that long? you’re so impatient." she teased, stopping right in front of you and resting a hand on her hip.

you rolled your eyes, lighting another cigarette. “yes, i wanna get home already.”

"geez, impatient and bitchy today." she muttered under her breath, smirking as you both started to walk, she kept in stride beside you, occasionally bumping your shoulders together. she could see the agitation in your eyes, even as you refused to look at her. It was honestly comical.

you were looking forward to today for two weeks now. finals were done, you had only another week of pointless classes before graduating and leaving this shitty town behind. the smoke session was very much needed, and luckily you had the house all to yourself.

"don’t worry." she teased after a moment. "no more ekko attention. i’m all yours today, you needy baby." she pinched your cheek, causing you to gently slap her hand away, huffing at her mocking. “i swear to god— i’ve had a stressful week, jinx, i don’t know where you get all that energy from.” you mumbled, handing her the cig. "stressful week, or you just need to get laid?" jinx joked, her eyes sparkled in a playful mischief as she took the cigarette and raised it to her lips, taking a short puff before exhaling the smoke through her lips.

she was clearly enjoying her teasing, and your grumpy face only encouraged her. "ohhh, your poor baby." she stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “knock it off,” you muttered, though you wrapped an arm around her shoulders as you grab the cig back, taking a long drag.

jinx chuckled, clearly pleased with herself as she leaned into you. the cigarette continued to pass between you, her body was soft against yours.

"you are adorable when you're all grumpy and pouty." she teased, running her other hand through your hair. she turned her head slightly to the side and nipped at your earlobe, an amused huff escaping her lips, her breath against your ear was driving me insane. “i want to see how far this pouty mood goes." she whispered before pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“jinx—“ you gasped, trying to hide your blush. “we’re passing by a playground.”

"and?" she laughed, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. she feigned an innocent pout, her bottom lip slightly jutting out. "no one is around. we’re the only ones walking."

you look down at her mouth, your own watering at the thought of nibbling her pouty lip. would she yelp? sigh? would she flinch away or kiss you back?

you and jinx were friends, strictly. for years now. she was flirty, always pushing boundaries but then she would play dumb, as if leading people on was her favorite hobby. and you had a big fat crush on her. that’s why you didn’t want to risk it.

so you ended up pinching her nose and continuing walking, finishing the cigarette.

she let out a small squeak, a pout returning to her lips. she gently punched your shoulder in retaliation before sticking out her tongue. “mean." she teased, her arm still wrapped around your waist as you continued to walk. "you’re no fun today."

“i’ll let you choose the movie.” you say as if to apologize, pulling her into that side hug you were locked in previously.

soon enough you reach to your house, she settles on the couch and scrolls through the streaming services to find something to watch as you get the snacks you bought days before, quickly going back to bump your hips against hers to make space for you to sit down.

she smirked at the pile of snacks you had set down on the coffee table. "geez, you really went all out for our movie night, didn't you?"

you shrugged, a small smile appearing on your face. you weren’t about to admit that you picked out her favorites purposefully. “mhm… did you choose something yet?”

jinx looked down from the screen and watched as you began to roll the blunt, the sight bringing a smirk to her face. "hmm, not yet," she said. "nothing looks interesting enough."

“don’t be picky, we’ll be way too out of it to care about it.” you chuckled. "you’re right, the plot won't even make sense to us anyway." she huffed a chuckle.

her eyes tracing the movements of your hands, continuing to watch you finish rolling the blunt, "hurry upppp," she whined, poking your thigh impatiently. "i wanna get high already."

a small chuckle left your mouth, amused by her eagerness. “here,” you hand her the blunt and light it up for her. "finally…" she groaned happily, bringing the joint to her lips and taking a deep inhale.

holding the smoke in her lungs for a few moments, she exhaled slowly before turning to smirk at me.

"your turn, slowpoke.”

"I was taking my time, you impatient brat." you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled a deep puff, the taste of herbs filling your mouth, you felt your entire body release tension already.

you exhaled slowly, the familiar feeling of relaxation settling in your bones. as you passed the joint back to her, your eyes flicked toward jinx, who was already looking at you, eyes already a little dazed, her smirk was lazy and her cheeks a hint of pink as the weed started to cloud your minds.

"you look wrecked already.” you teased, poking her shoulder. she let out a small huff and rolled her eyes before taking another deep drag of the blunt.

"says the one who practically moans every time they get high."

your face flushed with embarrassment at her words. "I do not moan every time." you protested, although you couldn't keep the chuckle out of your voice. jinx let out a scoff, amused by your denial. "please, i’ve seen you high enough times to know you're a total needy whiner when stoned." she teased, taking another drag of the joint as her eyes scanned up and down your body.

her gaze felt like a physical touch, you were growing warmer as you forced yourself to look away. "I am not a needy whiner when stoned."

half an hour later the weed had fully settled into your systems. you barely paid attention to the movie playing, the only thing on your mind was her body pressed against yours, the warmth of it making you want to melt against her.

she was leaning into you, her head resting on your shoulder as she laughed at the crappy jokes, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on you.

you felt dizzy, shifting to nuzzle your nose into the crook of her neck. “i love this perfume,” you slurred quietly, making her smile and huff amusedly. "i know, you say that every time I wear it." she said, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. you hummed, taking in the sweet smell of her perfume, it was intoxicating.

"It's so good,” you mumbled, nuzzling further into her neck, inhaling deeply.

jinx chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. her fingers traced lightly down you jaw before they reached your chin and gently forced you to look at her.

"how high are you, pretty baby?" she teased, her voice lower now as her fingers continued to explore your face. you looked up at her, eyes glassy and unfocused. it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the way her fingers felt against your skin. “very," you mumbled, the words slurring in your mouth. "very high. i feel kinda floaty."

jinx’s eyes darkened, the gleam of mischief appearing in them. "you are so high." she teased, her thumb tracing your bottom lip. “just how i like you."

you hummed faintly, pretending to bite on her finger. jinx let out a low, dark chuckle, her thumb now pressing against your tongue. "naughty girl."

her words sent a shiver down your spine, your heart raced in your chest. the way she was looking at you sent waves of heat through your body.

your lips closed around her finger, a low whimper vibrating down your throat at the sensation, soon suctioning without breaking eye contact. her eyes darkened even further, the sound of your whimper making her breath hitch. a low, primal sound left her lips as her gaze fixated on your.

"you’re getting bold, baby," she purred, her thumb pushing further into your mouth. you hummed around her finger, the feeling making your head spin even further. the combination of the weed and her scent was overwhelming, it was turning your brain to mush. your eyes fluttered, your tongue swirling around her thumb. you didn’t know where this audacity was coming from, but it just felt so good.

jinx chuckled darkly, her eyes scanning your face as her thumb gently caressed your lips. "you just can't help yourself, can you?" her tone was low and teasing, but you could hear the hint of restraint in it. “so needy…"

you gently pulled away from her thumb, a trail of saliva connecting both of you. her gaze darkened even further at the sight, her eyes scanning over your face with a mix of hunger and restraint. her breath hitched as your lips touched her jaw. she tilted her head to the side, exposing more of her skin to your mouth.

“you’re being such a good girl for me right now." she whispered, her free hand finding the nape of your neck. her words causing a shiver run down your spine, eagerly pushing her down to lay on her back as you kept savoring her skin, her body laid beneath yours without resistance.

she hummed, her hand in your hair. she gently tugged on the strands. you were too focused to respond to her teasing. she tilted her head back as your lips traveled down her neck, hands roaming around her form shamelessly. she felt warm beneath your body, your fingertips sneaking down her shirt and feeling her smooth skin. her pulse quickened under your lips as your body pressed flush against her. a moan left her throat, her grip on your hair tightening. her hips bucked against yours, the movement was subtle but definitely deliberate. you were doing such a good job at working her up.

jinx’s breath hitched as your fingers moved to the buttons of her jeans, the action seeming to catch her off guard. she wasn’t complaining, but she wasn’t expecting it. “you’re getting awfully handsy,” she rasped.

“i just wanna taste you…” you almost whined into her neck, too drunk with desire to stop and question your own actions.

“taste me, huh?” jinx chuckled, her hand in your hair gripping harder. her voice was still teasing but now laced with a hint of lust. “can you even handle it, pretty baby?”

you looked up at her, eyes glassy and lips slightly swollen. you knew you looked wrecked right now, a needy mess of a girl yearning for more. but you didn’t care.

"i can handle it." you huffed, your fingers struggling a bit with the last button. "i need to taste you, please.”

you couldn’t handle it.

your fuzzy senses made you move sloppily, munching on her pussy like she was your last meal, muffling your whimpers and moans against her as you humped the edge of the couch like a dog in heat. the way you lapped her folds made her groan loudly, rocking her hips against your face and pulling your hair aggressively.

“so pathetic,” she chuckled hoarsely, the view of you between her legs was making it hard for her to keep her composure. “you’re so desperate for me, such a needy—“ pathetic girl she was about to say, but the words dissolved in her throat as a loud moan escaped her lips when you sucked hard on her clit. she tightened her grip on your hair, guiding your movements. “hmmyeah…that’s it. good girl.”

your heart raced at the praise, she was intoxicating. a goddess you’d want to live and die for, to go against your own convictions just for a little bit of her.

her thighs closed around your head, holding you in place as you continued to slurp her fluids. the sounds and smell of sex will definitely linger in the fabric of the sofa, yet again, that was the last of your concerns. in fact, who says you won’t be sniffing on it days later just hoping to catch a taste of her again.

her moans rasped her throat, getting impossibly louder as she edged her high. her legs around my head was making you feel dizzy, the taste of her on your tongue, her noises in your ear, her scent in your nose. it was like your own version of heaven.

she was gripping your hair so hard it was almost painful, but you didn't mind. you wanted to hear her come undone, “please," you whimpered, barely able to get the word out. you kept begging between sloppy kisses on her folds. “please, please, please..let me make you cum, please.” you whined desperately.

she pulled at your hair to meet your eyes, both of you had them glossy, red and wide pupils. jinx bit her lip so hard that it drew blood at some point, staining her cracked lips in a dark red shade.

“you’re really gonna make me lose it.” she choked out.

your tongue was relentless, switching between pressing and swirling around her clit and pumping inside her hole, her creamy juices dripping down your chin. “please come for me, i wanna taste you, hm, jinx,” the words fell out of your mouth like a prayer, you hands gripping her thighs to the point of leaving marks on her pale skin.

“can’t— don’t stop!” she trembled, babbling and babbling incoherences, “i-i’m—“ a loud, guttural moan broke her sentence. her slim body tensed up before quivering and eyes shut as she rode out her peak. she was mesmerizing, you couldn’t stop even when your jaw was aching so bad. “f-fuck, stop, stop.” she pleaded, flinching away from your greedy mouth.

the intensity left you both panting heavily, she covered her face with her forearm and you shifted to rest on her stomach, fingertip drawing random patterns over her cloudy tattoos. jinx was wrecked, trying to even her breath.

“c’mere.” she mumbled, petting your head with her free hand. she doesn’t have to ask twice for you to crawl up to her, resting your head on her chest. youf mind was still dizzy from everything that just happened.

she was running her hand through your hair, when she broke the silence "you’re such a good girl," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

heat rushed to your face at her words. even just her voice sounded wrecked, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at knowing you were the one who did that to her.

you nuzzled yourself further into her chest, your body was starting to feel heavy. she chuckled faintly, her hand still running through your hair. "and now you're a sleepy, stoned mess."

after a beat, she added, "not that that's any differently from how you usually are, though."

“stop babbling,” you mumbled, pecking the top of her breast. “let’s nap.” she groaned softly, shifting slightly to fix her underwear and lay comfortably. “you’re still no fun.” she murmured, cuddling you back.

bonus !

having jinx on your lap as you hung out with the group wasn’t something new. but only a fool wouldn’t realize the change of dynamic between you and her. as one of your hands was busy holding your drink, the other gripped possessively to her hip, pulling her back in place whenever she slipped for squirming too much, babygirl couldn’t sit still as she told her fabulous stories.

“jinx,” ekko’s voice interrupted as he approached with a confident smile. “i have a blunt to share, ya wanna head upstairs?”

“oop— nah, thanks man.” she chuckled, leaning back against your chest as she held your hand to her stomach. “i only smoke my girlfriend’s weed.”

[adelliet]

Joel Miller x f!reader

NEW THERAPIST

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Joel’s therapist is very sick, and you’re new in town — since you’re licensed, you decided to step in as a replacement. Joel was hesitant at first, not one to open up to strangers easily, but when he finally gave it a try, he didn’t regret it.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, age gap (Joel in his 50s, youre age is not mentioned, but it's legal!), anxiety, masturbation, verbal harassment, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (piv), changing positions, praise kink, nicknames, strong language

A/n: Hi! I am not even trying to convince myself anymore to bealive that this isn't long asf. I really love to write a good plot yk, anyways if you have any ideas, suggestions, or anything else, feel free to text me. Also, I apologize for any grammar mistakes or phrases that might not make sense—English isn’t my first language :3 But I hope you enjoy the story! <3

Mastelist

It was late morning when Tommy stopped by Joel’s house. He knocked twice and then let himself in, as he always did — brothers didn’t need permission in Jackson. Joel was in the middle of buttoning up his flannel, looking freshly showered but not entirely awake. His hair was still damp, and he moved slowly, like every motion cost him something.

“Hey,” Tommy greeted, holding a folded piece of paper in one hand. “Got those patrol maps you wanted.”

Joel took them with a grunt, gave them a glance, then placed them on the kitchen counter without a word. He reached for his mug, sipped cold coffee, and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, slinging the jacket over his shoulder.

Tommy tilted his head. “Where you headin’?”

Joel hesitated, clearly not eager to elaborate. “…Therapy.”

That made Tommy pause. His brows lifted, confused. “Uh, you sure about that?”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah. Same time as always.”

Tommy gave him a strange look and shifted awkwardly. “Joel… She’s sick. Like, real sick. She stopped seein’ people. Some kinda respiratory thing — folks say she’s not comin’ back for a while.”

Joel froze. The keys in his hand stopped jingling. “What?”

“Yeah. Word’s goin’ around. They say at least three weeks, maybe more. I figured you heard.”

Joel shook his head slowly, frown deepening, jaw tightening. He looked like someone had pulled the ground out from under him — not that he’d ever admit that.

“I… didn’t,” he muttered, voice low and tight.

There was a long pause before Tommy scratched the back of his neck, pulling something from his pocket.

“Look, I know you don’t like this kinda thing,” Tommy said carefully, “but there’s someone new in town. Moved here a few weeks back. She’s licensed, she’s smart… young, yeah, but folks been sayin’ good things.”

Joel shot him a skeptical glance, the corners of his mouth twitching downward. “Young?”

“Not that young,” Tommy chuckled. “Just… younger than your usual shrink. But hey — she works from home, keeps things real low-key. Thought maybe it’d suit you.”

Joel didn’t respond, just stood there looking at the card Tommy handed him. A simple business card. No frills. Just a name, a soft-colored print, and an address.

Tommy caught the look in his brother’s eyes and backed off.

“Hey, just… think about it, alright? You ain’t gotta go. But don’t sit around and bottle this shit up either.”

Joel didn’t answer. He watched Tommy leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and then looked back at the card in his hand. He turned it over slowly between his fingers. Thought about throwing it away. Thought about the ache that hadn’t left his chest for months.

He sat down at the table. Stared at the wood grain. Rubbed his thumb over his temple. The silence in the house felt heavier than usual.

And he sat there. Thinking. For a long, long time.

Eventually, he ended up going.

Against his better judgment, against all the tight, thorny doubts clawing inside his mind, Joel found himself walking through Jackson’s quiet streets, shoulders hunched, head low like he was trying not to be seen. He already regretted it. Every step closer felt like one more chance to turn around and go the hell back home.

But he kept walking.

It wasn’t the idea of talking to someone that rattled him, not really. It was the idea of talking to you. Someone new. Someone who didn’t know his history, who hadn’t been there when his walls were higher than ever. He didn’t know what to expect… didn’t even know if you were going to be kind, or cold, or too damn young to understand any of what he carried.

But the worst part was how exposed he felt. Every glance from a neighbor, every quiet “hello” from someone passing by, it all made his skin crawl. Like they knew where he was headed. Like they were silently judging him for needing help. Of course, they weren’t. Nobody cared. But Joel’s anxiety didn’t exactly listen to logic.

He finally reached the address. The house looked… normal. Inviting, even. The kind of place you wouldn’t expect someone to open up their deepest, darkest shit inside. And maybe that’s what made it even harder.

Joel stared at the door for a moment, frozen mid-step. His hand hovered in the air, curled into a loose fist, just inches from knocking. But he didn’t move. He stood there like a damn statue, fighting himself all over again.

Just leave, his brain hissed. Just walk away. You’ve made it this long without this. You don’t need—

He exhaled. Loud and heavy, before he slowly, knocked.

He waited. At first, it was only a few seconds. But then those seconds stretched into something longer, heavier. Joel started to feel stupid - standing there like some lost teenager, like someone who knocked on the wrong goddamn door. Maybe you weren’t even home. Maybe this was all just a mistake. Hell, maybe you were home and just didn’t want to deal with some grumpy old bastard knocking on your door uninvited.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose and stepped back. One foot already turned to go, hand dropping from the air like he’d imagined the whole thing.

And that’s when the door opened.

The soft click of the handle. The creak of the hinges. And then, you.

Joel stood there, rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on you like he’d forgotten how to breathe. You were smiling — that soft, sweet kind of smile that didn’t feel forced or polite, but real. You looked calm. Warm. And Joel? He was completely fucked.

His brain short-circuited. His first thought wasn’t “she looks young,” or “she looks kind.” No. His first thought was “she’s beautiful.” Not in the distant, poetic sense — no, not the kind of beauty you admire from afar and then walk away from. It was the kind of beauty that grabbed him by the throat and whispered, “You’re mine.”

His eyes flicked down for half a second, just a second, but that second was enough. The soft shape of your chest under that casual shirt. The subtle curve of your hips. The bare skin of your legs, the way your mouth moved as you said hello, lips plush and so fucking inviting it made his teeth clench.

And suddenly, his mind wasn’t where it should be. It was picturing things. Fast flashes. You underneath him. The way your voice might sound when it wasn’t professional — when it was breathless and messy and gasping his name. The way your hands might clutch at his shoulders. The way your body might arch, needy and open for him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He blinked. Once. Twice. Forced himself to look you in the eyes. But even that wasn’t safe. There was a spark there, something intelligent, a little playful. You weren’t shy. And somehow, that was the most dangerous part.

He hadn’t said a single word. And he already knew he was in trouble.

You tilted your head a little, still holding the door open with one hand, the other tugging down the hem of your shirt instinctively. “…Sir?”

“Oh—shit, I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice low and rough like gravel. “I… I’m Joel. Joel Miller. Tommy gave me your card.”

You blinked. “Oh! Right. The therapy sessions?”

He gave a slow nod, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed now. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure if I should come by but, uh… figured I’d give it a try.”

You stepped back and smiled, waving him in. “Come on in. You’re actually my first today.”

As he stepped past you into the warmth of the house, you noticed the way his gaze flicked briefly down to your outfit — an oversized t-shirt and a pair of short cotton shorts, your long warm fuzzy slippers making gentle scuffs against the floor as you moved.

It was freezing outside, but the heater was blasting and the tea was steeping, so this was your comfort zone. Still… not exactly professional.

You glanced down at yourself and laughed softly. “Sorry. I should’ve probably worn something more appropriate for a client…”

Joel looked up at you with something unreadable in his eyes — a twitch of amusement, maybe, or something darker, heavier.

“Nah,” he said simply, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Doesn’t bother me.”

You nodded and motioned toward the cozy living area just off the hallway. “You can go ahead and take a seat. Want anything to drink? Tea, coffee?”

Joel hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “Coffee’s good. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all,” you said, already padding off toward the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He watched you disappear around the corner, the sound of the kettle starting up filling the silence behind him. As he settled onto the couch, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the throw pillow beside him, he let out a slow breath.

When the coffee was finally ready, you brought it over with a smile, carefully placing the pastel purple mug in front of him. “Here you go,” you said, the warmth of the mug almost making the room feel cozier. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

Joel gave a small, grateful smile, his hand brushing against yours for just a second as he took the mug. “Thanks. Smells good,” he muttered, his voice slightly raspy, as if the warmth of the coffee was just what he needed to break the cold barrier that had settled between the two of you.

You nodded and slipped into your chair, pulling your notepad and pen from your bag. The soft rustling of paper filled the air, your legs crossing comfortably as you got ready for the session. However, the moment you crossed your legs, Joel’s eyes flicked down, just for a second, but long enough for him to catch a glimpse of the soft juicy thights and-

His throat tightened a little, and before he knew it, he was coughing slightly, almost choking on the coffee he’d just taken a sip of. The damn thing went down the wrong way, and he couldn’t help but cough harshly, slamming the cup back down on the table, his face reddening with the embarrassment.

You laughed softly, leaning toward him. “Oh my god you okay?”

Joel cleared his throat, shaking his head, trying to recover his cool. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

You gave him a reassueing smile, sensing his awkwardness but not letting it rattle you. “It’s alright, happens to the best of us.”

Once the tension had passed, you set your notepad in your lap and folded your hands over it, looking at him with a more professional air. “Alright, so… to start, I’m just going to ask you a few basic questions, just so I can get a better idea of where you’re coming from.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking to your face, trying to stay focused but still feeling that lingering heat from his earlier slip-up.

“Okay, so first off, tell me a little bit about yourself. I know you’re Joel… how old are you?”

“Fifty-six,” he answered, his voice low, but steady now. He had clearly gotten himself under control.

You scribbled that down, nodding. “Got it. And, uh… what about your family?”

Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was obvious that even though he was a man who’d seen more than most, talking about his family was still a sensitive subject. He hesitated before speaking, his voice dropping a little. “I have a brother… Tommy. He’s… important to me. Got a daughter too, Sarah. She’s… she’s gone now.”

You paused, noting the weight in his words. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Joel,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his in a quiet show of empathy. “That must be really hard.”

He gave a slight nod but didn’t say much more about it. You sensed he wasn’t ready to go deeper yet.

“So, what brings you to therapy today?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation gently back to the reason he was there. You hadn’t expected him to just unload everything all at once, but you hoped to start pulling out the layers, one by one.

Joel ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair, his eyes darkening slightly. “Well… mostly just… I’ve been having trouble. With, uh… things. Life, y’know?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat again. “It’s been hard. Haven’t really felt like I’ve had much control over… well, anything.”

You nodded, the silence between you feeling comfortable enough to allow him space without pressure. “That sounds difficult. But it’s good that you’re here. I know it’s not easy to take that first step.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared into his coffee, and you could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. You made a mental note to keep the session light for now, to let him open up when he was ready. You could sense this wasn’t going to be a quick fix — that this was going to take time, patience, and a lot of trust.

The quiet moments that followed were filled with the warmth of the coffee and the soft sounds of your voice as you guided him through the session, making sure he felt heard and understood.

As you continued, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of connection with Joel — even if it was subtle. He wasn’t saying much, but the little gestures, the brief moments when his eyes lingered on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke about the hard things… it all made you realize that, maybe, this therapy thing was going to be a lot more complicated than you’d originally thought. And maybe, just maybe, there was something else simmering just beneath the surface.

Time had slipped by quietly, like the gentle ticking of an unseen clock. You hadn’t even realized how quickly the hour passed until there was a lull in the conversation—a natural pause that signaled the end.

Joel shifted on the couch, clearing his throat as if to bring himself back to the present. You offered him a small, warm smile as you closed your notepad and tucked your pen behind your ear. “That’ll be it for today,” you said softly. “Do you have a way to pay, or…?”

Joel looked at you for a second. And then, without a word, he reached into the pocket of his worn jacket and pulled out a small ziplock bag filled with a generous amount of dried weed. He held it out with a completely straight face, as if this was the most normal form of payment in the world.

You blinked once. Then twice. Your lips parted slightly in surprise as your brows lifted. “Seriously?” you asked, your voice somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

Joel didn’t flinch. “Well I suppose you don’t take cards,” he muttered, a hint of defensiveness laced with deadpan humor. “Figured this might do.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, but your hand reached forward anyway. “You realize this isn’t exactly standard practice,” you said, taking the bag from him between two fingers, the contact brief—but still electric.

“Neither is showin’ up to therapy in fuzzy slippers and shorts,” he shot back with a slow smirk.

Touché.

You tilted your head, smirking right back, but you didn’t reply. Instead, you walked over to your bag and casually dropped the weed inside, your movements slow, deliberate. When you turned back around, Joel was already watching you with that same look in his eyes—somewhere between curiosity and hunger.

“I guess we’re even,” you said quietly, your voice a little lower now, like it belonged in a different kind of conversation.

He didn’t answer, just stood there. Big. Still. Tense.

You walked him to the door, silence trailing after you both like a second presence. As you opened it, cold air swept in from outside, brushing over your skin, raising goosebumps on your thighs.

Joel didn’t step out immediately. He lingered, turning back to face you, eyes flicking over your face like he was memorizing something. Or maybe just trying to convince himself not to do something he’d regret.

“Thanks,” he said. His voice was soft now. Almost intimate.

You nodded. “Of course.”

The air felt tight. Like something had been said without actually being spoken.

And then he left. The door clicked shut, and you exhaled.

For a long moment, you didn’t move. You just stood there, the quiet of your home closing in around you, but your thoughts loud as hell.

Joel Miller had this… presence. Something raw, heavy, carved out of scars and silence. He was clearly complicated—guarded. But under all that gruffness, there was something else. Something that made you want to crack him open and see what was underneath.

And maybe that was exactly what scared you.

He was your client. And that alone should be enough to slam every door inside you shut. But your heart didn’t seem to get the memo. Because it was still beating hard. Still remembering the way his voice dipped low when he thanked you. The way his eyes flicked down your legs. The way his hand brushed yours when he handed over the weed.

You bit your lip, suddenly aware of how warm your skin felt. No. No, no. You couldn’t let yourself feel that. Not for him. Not now.

Still… the scent of his jacket lingered in the air. And so did the strange ache in your chest.

And deep down, where you wouldn’t even let the thought fully form, you wondered: What would happen… if those lines blurred?

The next day…

You were still adjusting. To Jackson. To the cold mornings and quiet streets. To the fact that life here, while safer than the world outside the gates, still pulsed with tension. People wore their grief like layers of clothing, and every client that knocked on your door carried more than just pain—they carried stories they didn’t know how to tell.

You were getting used to that, too.

The morning had been busy. Three clients before lunch, each one with their own shadows. You were sipping lukewarm tea, organizing your notes, when there was a knock at the door. You glanced at the clock. Not your usual appointment window. You opened the door.

And there he was.

Joel.

Again.

He looked the same, rough edges, tired eyes, that same guarded posture, but something about him felt… different. Softer, maybe. Or maybe you were different, now that you’d seen the way his eyes softened when he smiled. The way his voice dipped when he said your name.

This time, you were dressed more… professionally. A soft knit sweater that hugged your waist, black jeans, cozy socks. No shorts. No slippers. But his eyes still flicked over you in that same slow, burning way.

“Hi,” you said, smiling. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

He shifted his weight, cleared his throat. “Hope that’s not a problem.”

“No,” you said quickly, stepping aside. “Of course not. Come in.”

He walked past you with that heavy, confident step, and for a second—just a second—you let your eyes trace the shape of his back. The way his shoulders moved beneath the fabric of his shirt. The worn denim that clung to his legs a little too well.

You closed the door and followed him into the room. He didn’t sit right away. Just stood there, looking around like he was taking in your space again. He glanced at the small candle flickering on the shelf, the books stacked on your desk, the mug of tea you hadn’t finished.

He looked at you.

“You changed the slippers,” he murmured.

You laughed. “Figured I should look like a professional, at least once a week.”

Joel’s mouth twitched into something that almost resembled a smile. Almost.

Once he was seated, you grabbed your notebook and sat across from him, legs crossed at the knee—but not as carelessly as last time. Still, his eyes caught the movement. You felt it. That flicker of awareness. That quiet hum beneath the surface.

“So,” you started, clicking your pen open, “two sessions in two days… should I be flattered?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you. “Didn’t have much else to do,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like a glowing review of my therapeutic technique.”

His lips curved slightly. “You’re better than you think.” Your cheeks warmed, and not from the candlelight.

As the session began, it felt… different. More open. Joel still spoke in fragments, in low tones and unfinished sentences, but he let himself be a little more present. He let you ask more. He even answered a few things without looking away.

You talked about routine. About Jackson. About Ellie, vaguely. About the cold. And somewhere in there, between the casual and the careful, you realized you liked having him there. You liked the sound of his voice when it got quiet. You liked the way he sat—arms loose, legs apart, so confidently in his own skin.

And you hated how aware you were of it.

You were his therapist.

But he was… him.

A man who looked at you like he wanted to figure you out just as badly as you wanted to peel away his walls.

You didn’t let your mind wander too far. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on your hands. On your lips when you spoke. On the curve of your neck when you leaned over to write.

He wasn’t good at hiding that kind of thing.

And when the session ended, and he stood up again, the air felt heavier. Like something had built between you. Something you were both pretending not to feel.

He said goodbye quietly. Not rushed. Like he wanted to stay. You closed the door behind him. Pressed your back to it. And breathed. This was going to be harder than you thought.

He hadn’t planned it like this. He hadn’t planned on coming every goddamn day.

At first, he told himself it was just necessity. He needed the help. Needed someone to listen. Someone who wasn’t Tommy, who wasn’t Maria, who didn’t already have a whole image of who he was supposed to be.

But deep down, he knew. It wasn’t just about talking. It was about you.

Every morning, he woke up with that same battle inside his chest. Don’t go. She’s too young. She’s too good. You’re just another broken old man.

And yet, by noon, he was knocking on your door.

You never said no. Never even hinted that he was a bother. You smiled every time, led him inside, sat across from him with that soft, warm look that made the walls around him crack just a little more each session.

And somehow, after a week, you had more in your stash of supplies than half of Jackson.

Joel didn’t always have cash, or whatever passed for it these days, but he paid you with what he could. Bottles of whiskey. Extra ammo. A damn nice winter jacket one time.

He wasn’t sure if you actually needed all of it.

But you took it. You smiled. You made him feel like he wasn’t just a burden.

Today, when he knocked, you greeted him in a cozy-looking sweater, leggings, hair tied into bun but with a few strands loose around your face. Casual. Effortless. Dangerous.

He sat down, like he always did, heavy boots thudding against the floor.

He noticed, without meaning to, that he didn’t feel as stiff anymore. His arms weren’t crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw wasn’t clenched into stone.

You smiled, scribbling something into your notebook. “You’re getting more comfortable,” you said, almost like you were thinking out loud.

Joel grunted, not trusting himself to say much more. He knew he was softening around you. He just wasn’t sure if it was a good thing.

You started the session, asking him about his week, about Ellie, about the community. And then, you noticed it, something shifted in his expression. Something dark passed through his eyes.

“You okay?” you asked gently. Joel hesitated.

“It’s stupid,” he muttered finally, shaking his head.

“Nothing’s stupid,” you said. “If it’s bothering you, it matters.”

He leaned back, rubbing his palms over his jeans, a nervous habit he didn’t even realize he had.

“It’s just… ain’t easy. Bein’ around people. Even now. After everything. I keep thinkin’ I’m just gonna fuck it all up somehow.”

You nodded, your voice soft and steady. “That’s a very real fear.”

You let that sit for a moment. And then, before you could stop yourself, you asked:

“…Can I ask you something a little more personal?”

Joel’s eyes flicked up, guarded but curious.

“Sure,” he said gruffly.

You cleared your throat. Your fingers tightened just a little around your pen.

“How… how has everything affected your, uh… intimacy? Relationships? Sex life?”

The moment the word sex left your mouth, it was like you set off a bomb in the room.

Joel’s entire body stiffened. He blinked at you like he hadn’t heard right. Like you’d just punched him in the face.

And then, the images hit him so fast he barely had time to react. You. Bent over that little couch. Your soft sweater riding up your hips. His hands all over your skin. His mouth on your neck, your thighs, your—

Shit.

His face went red. His leg started bouncing uncontrollably. He scratched the back of his neck, shifted in his seat. He couldn’t even look at you.

You, meanwhile, tried to keep your face professional, casual—but inside, your stomach was flipping over itself. You had asked questions like that a hundred times before. But never like this. Never with him.

“Sorry if that’s too personal,” you said quickly, trying to save him. “It’s a common question in therapy. It’s important.”

Joel finally managed to clear his throat.

“No, it’s… it’s fine. Just caught me off guard, is all.”

His voice was lower now. Rougher. He still couldn’t meet your eyes. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to focus. Trying not to imagine what he had imagined when you said that word.

Joel shifted again, the denim of his jeans pulling uncomfortably tight against him. Jesus Christ. He needed to get out of here.

You gave him a way out, changing the subject, making a small note in your notebook without pushing him further. But the damage was done.

When the session ended, Joel stood up a little too quickly, mumbling a goodbye. You watched him go, heart pounding for reasons you didn’t want to admit. Joel barely made it down the steps before realizing he was fucking hard.

He cursed under his breath, tugging at his jacket, willing the blood to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. All because you had said one word. One word. And now, he was ruined.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Ever since he’d left your place, he’d been a fucking mess.

The cold air bit at his skin, the crunch of snow under his boots was deafening, but none of it registered. All he could see was you.

The way you’d looked at him when you asked that question. The way your tongue had peeked out just barely to wet your bottom lip. The way your legs had crossed, that slow, lazy move that had damn near stopped his heart.

He felt sick, alive, starving. Every thought in his head was of you—and half of them were so filthy, so wrong, he should’ve been struck down on the spot. Goddamn old man, get a grip. But he couldn’t.

He got home fast, faster than usual. Slammed the door behind him like he could shut the images out.

He tossed his coat onto the nearest chair, paced the room like a caged animal.

Coffee. Maybe coffee would help.

His hands were shaking as he fumbled with the kettle. He poured himself a cup, burned his tongue on the first sip, cursed under his breath.

But the warmth did nothing to calm the fire raging in his blood. Your voice kept replaying in his head.

Sex life. He pictured you whispering it. Moaning it. Screaming it. His cock twitched painfully against the seam of his jeans.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

He tried sitting. Tried distracting himself, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. But his mind betrayed him—again and again. He saw you across from him, not in leggings and a sweater, but naked. Skin flushed, eyes heavy, mouth parted.

He imagined his hands on you, calloused fingers sliding up your thighs, teasing the soft, sensitive skin until you begged him—

Jesus fucking Christ.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Joel stood, breathing hard, palming the heavy bulge in his jeans. There was no dignity left. No sense in fighting it.

He staggered to his bedroom, barely managing to shove his jeans down over his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and aching and already leaking at the tip. He wrapped a rough hand around himself, the touch making him groan deep in his chest.

Head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut, he started stroking. Slow at first. Long, tight pulls, just enough to ease the pressure without giving in fully.

But the images kept flashing behind his eyes. You, straddling his lap, grinding down against him. You, hands twisted in his hair, guiding his mouth wherever you wanted it. You, whimpering his name. His strokes sped up.

His thighs tensed, muscles flexing. His hips jerked up into his hand, chasing the friction. He bit down hard on his lip to keep from making noise—but a few low, broken moans still escaped.

“Fuck… baby…” he growled into the empty room, voice wrecked.

The firelight flickered across his bare chest, highlighting the taut lines of muscle, the sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin. He squeezed tighter, pumping faster, chasing that edge.

His hand was rough, almost punishing, but he didn’t care. He deserved the pain. Deserved the shame. He thought about your soft, warm cunt wrapped around him. Thought about what you’d sound like when he finally pushed inside.

That did it.

Joel’s whole body seized up, a shudder ripped through him as he came, thick ropes spilling over his fist, down his knuckles, onto the floor.

“Goddamn—fuck—” he groaned, riding it out, hips jerking uncontrollably.

He sagged back against the bed, panting, heart hammering in his chest. For a moment, he just laid there. One arm thrown over his eyes. Breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.

The guilt crept in almost immediately. He shouldn’t have done it. Not over you. Not over someone so kind. So pure.

But even as he wiped his hand on a rag and dragged his jeans back up, one thing was terrifyingly clear: He was fucked. And not just because he couldn’t get you out of his head. But because he didn’t want to.

Joel hadn’t even planned on coming to this stupid ‘party’. Truth be told, crowds weren’t his thing anymore—too many people, too many memories.

But Tommy had dragged him out, shoved a drink in his hand, and told him to at least pretend to be part of the community. So there he was, leaning against the wall with a half-empty glass of whiskey, feeling like a damn ghost watching life happen around him.

And then you walked in. Joel’s world fucking stoppe. You were dressed… Shit, he didn’t even have words for it. It wasn’t flashy or revealing. You weren’t even trying. But you were stunning. Soft and effortless and so goddamn beautiful it made his chest ache.

Joel swallowed hard, feeling that familiar pressure start building low in his gut. You spotted them, him and Tommy, and made your way over, a warm, shy smile lighting up your face.

“Hey,” you greeted, voice a little breathless from the cold outside. “I think we’ve met,” you said, nodding toward Tommy. “You welcomed me my first day.”

Tommy grinned wide, gave a little dramatic bow. “That’s me. Jackson’s official welcome wagon.”

You laughed and then turned to Joel.

“And of course,” you added, softer now, “I know Joel. From… work.”

Your eyes flicked to his and something charged the air between you. Joel stiffened. He managed a grunt that was supposed to be a greeting but sounded more like he was choking.

After a beat, too long to be normal, you excused yourself politely, weaving back into the crowd. Joel stared after you like a man who’d just watched salvation walk away.

Tommy elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“You blind, or just stupid?”

Joel blinked. “What?”

“She was lookin’ at you like you hung the damn moon, man,” Tommy said, incredulous. “Christ, Joel. She was bitin’ her lip, twiddlin’ her damn fingers, swayin’ like she was hopin’ you’d just throw her over your shoulder right then and there.”

Joel glared at him. “You’re full of shit.”

Tommy just laughed, slapped him on the back. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, old man.”

Joel tried to shake it off. Tried to act like his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. But now he couldn’t stop watching you.

You joined a group of women near one of the tables, smiling, laughing, tucking your hair behind your ear in that way that made his gut twist painfully. Joel sipped his whiskey, pretending not to look.

Failing miserably.

He watched you laugh at something one of the women said, your head tilting back, that smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. He wanted to be the one making you laugh like that. Wanted to be the one you looked at with that kind of light in your eyes.

And then, a man joined your group. Joel’s stomach dropped. The guy was young, maybe early thirties. Tall. Smiling too damn wide at you. Joel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Every time you laughed at something that punk said, Joel’s blood boiled hotter. He gripped his glass tighter, fingers whitening around the rim. He should’ve looked away. Should’ve had some damn self-control. But he couldn’t.

Every move you made, every glance, every soft smile, was a hook digging deeper under his skin. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.

Across the room, at the bar, Ellie and Dina were getting harassed by some drunk asshole spitting slurs, sneering like a damn fool.

He stiffened, instincts firing before his brain even caught up. Ellie stepped toward the guy, pointing at that man, eyes blazing.

“The fuck did you just say?!” she snapped, voice sharp and cutting. Joel didn’t wait.

His body moved on pure muscle memory. He crossed the floor in a heartbeat, grabbing the guy by the collar and shoving him with brutal force—so hard the bastard hit the ground with a grunt.

The man glared up at Joel from the floor, his face twisted in anger. Joel stared him down, his voice low and lethal: “Get the hell outta here.”

The room was deathly silent now.

Maria helped the guy stand up from the floor, both of them disappearing into the crowd without another word.

Joel finally looked at Ellie. She was standing frozen, blinking like she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she barked, voice loud enough to carry. Joel didn’t answer.

His jaw was locked tight, muscles ticking under his skin, and his fingers flexed helplessly at his sides.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Joel!”

The words hit harder than any punch. He looked around, saw the judgment, the confusion, and then his gaze locked on you.

You were standing frozen by the table, one hand over your mouth, wide-eyed. He hated the look on your face. Hated that he’d been the cause of it.

Joel dropped his eyes, shame burning hot under his skin.

“Right,” he muttered roughly, voice almost breaking, and without another word, he pushed through the crowd and disappeared into the cold night.

You couldn’t move for a second. Couldn’t even breathe.

The way Joel had looked at you, like he was breaking apart right in front of you. You whispered a quick apology to the group you were with and slipped out into the cold night after him, heart pounding in your chest.

You didn’t know what you were going to say. Didn’t even know if you could fix it. But you had to try. Because somehow, somewhere between those stolen glances and charged silences, Joel Miller had carved out a place inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

You hurried after him, boots crunching over the snow, your breath forming shaky clouds in the freezing air.

“Joel!” you called out, but he didn’t turn.

He just kept walking, his broad shoulders tense, hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets.

You picked up your pace, heart pounding—not just from the cold—and finally, when you were close enough, you reached out and touched his shoulder.

Joel flinched. He stopped in his tracks and turned around sharply, his face hard, eyes stormy—

But the moment his gaze landed on you, his expression softened. The anger drained from his face like melting ice.

For a few long seconds, neither of you said a word. The world around you seemed to fall away, swallowed by the soft hiss of falling snow and your own uneven breathing.

Finally, you found your voice, small and uncertain:

“Are you… okay?”

Joel exhaled a heavy breath, visible in the cold, and gave a stiff nod. That was all he could manage.

You shuffled your boots awkwardly in the snow, feeling stupid, feeling young in a way you never had before.

Like your presence was supposed to fix something—but you had no idea how.

Still… just standing there next to him, it somehow made things a little less heavy. A little warmer, despite the biting air.

Joel looked at you again, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“You cold?” he asked, voice rough.

You shook your head quickly. He nodded once, lips pressing into a thin line. And then he said it, low and reluctant: “I should… head home.”

He was already turning away when your voice stopped him.

“Wait—”

You shifted nervously on your feet, then blurted out before you could second-guess yourself,

“Do you… want some company?”

The moment the words left your mouth, panic bloomed in your chest. Was that weird? Was that unprofessional? Was that even allowed?

Joel froze.

You could almost see the war playing out inside him—the instinct to say no, to stay distant, battling the overwhelming pull he felt toward you.

But in the end, he couldn’t tell you no. He just jerked his head slightly, beckoning you to follow.

Joel unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding it open for you. You slipped in, your fingers already fumbling to untie the soft jacket he’d once traded for his session.

Joel silently helped you, his calloused hands brushing against your arms as he slid the heavy fabric off your shoulders.

You shivered, definitley not from the cold.

The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing you both inside a bubble of tense, humming silence. Joel cleared his throat, glancing at you awkwardly.

“Uh… coffee or tea?”

“Coffee,” you said quickly, needing something, anything, to do with your hands, your mind, your heart hammering against your ribs.

You sat down carefully at his small, worn kitchen table, feeling absurdly out of place.

The chair creaked under you, the faint smell of coffee and old wood wrapping around you like a too-tight blanket. Joel busied himself at the counter, his broad back facing you.

You watched the way his shoulders moved under his jacket, the way his fingers fumbled slightly with the coffee canister.

He wasn’t as steady as he wanted to seem. And neither were you. For the first time in your life as a therapist, you had no idea what to say.

No idea how to reach the man standing a few feet away without falling headfirst into something neither of you would be able to undo.

Joel was in hell. Not just because of tonight—though that alone had probably shattered what little trust Ellie still had in him, and would no doubt make him a target of whispers in Jackson for weeks—

But because you were here. Sitting in his kitchen. Looking at him with those wide, worried eyes that made him want to fall to his knees.

He clutched the edge of the counter tighter, knuckles whitening. If he made one wrong move, if he let himself feel too much—

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop. And he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

Without saying a word, he grabbed two chipped mugs and poured coffee into each, the rich aroma filling the heavy silence between you.

Once he finished, he shrugged off his jacket, hanging it carefully on the hook right next to yours — so close, almost touching.

Only then did he return, walking back over to where you sat, still quiet, still unsure.

He handed you one of the mugs, and as you reached out to take it, your fingers brushed against his.

The contact was brief, feather-light, but it sent an electric jolt through your body — and clearly through his, too.

Both of you froze for a fraction of a second, your eyes locking, breath caught between you.

It was so quick, so subtle… but so undeniably there.

Joel cleared his throat lowly, trying to brush it off, and finally sat down opposite you, his large hands curling around his mug like it was his only lifeline to reality. The steam rose between you two, swirling in the cold air that seeped through the old house’s walls.

There was a long pause — neither of you seemed to know how to start — until suddenly, both of you spoke at the same time.

You stopped. He stopped.

An awkward, soft laugh escaped you, and Joel gave a small huff of amusement through his nose, the faintest ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“You first,” Joel said eventually, nodding toward you, his voice gruff but surprisingly gentle, always the gentleman, even now.

You shifted slightly in your seat, taking a breath.

“I just… I just want you to know,” you started carefully, your fingers nervously tracing the handle of your mug, “that what you did back there? I get it. You were just trying to protect someone you care about. And… you shouldn’t feel bad for that.” Your voice was soft, earnest.

Joel let out a rough, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head like he couldn’t even begin to accept your kindness.

“I fucked everythin’ up,” he muttered, voice low and cracked. “Don’t even know how to fix it now.”

Then, with a defeated sigh, Joel buried his face in his hands.

The sight made your chest ache — you had to physically stop yourself from reaching out, from covering his rough, work-worn hands with your own.

Not now. Not when he was so vulnerable. You couldn’t cross that line… not yet.

Your heart was pounding painfully against your ribs when you suddenly remembered something. You had brought a little “emergency” with you to the party, just in case, and it seemed like the perfect time for it now.

Without thinking too much, you jumped up from your chair, making Joel lift his head in slight surprise.

You fumbled through the pocket of your jacket, finally pulling out a small bag of weed with a victorious grin.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you, the corners of his mouth twitching up in faint amusement.

“Seriously?” he asked, voice half incredulous, half fond, when he saw what you were holding.

You nodded enthusiastically, the grin not leaving your face. And for the first time that night, Joel genuinely smiled.

You ended up sitting closer together on the old, battered couch, sharing a joint, letting the slow haze of warmth and laughter ease the tension that had been suffocating both of you all evening.

The conversation flowed easier now, soft jokes and even softer glances exchanged between you two. Joel’s shoulders, always so rigid, finally started to relax. His laugh, low and raspy, filled the room in small bursts.

And you felt a kind of peace you hadn’t known you were missing. For a while, in that little pocket of time, it didn’t matter what had happened at the party. It didn’t matter how badly Joel thought he had ruined everything.

It was just the two of you. Just coffee-stained mugs cooling on the table. The laughter between you faded into a lingering quiet, warm and a little awkward, as if neither of you wanted to be the one to break it.

You leaned forward slightly, reaching for your cup, your fingers brushing the ceramic as you brought it to your lips for a small sip. The coffee had cooled a little, but the warmth still felt good in your hands.

As you set the cup back down, a few loose strands of hair slipped into your face. Before you could lift your hand to brush them away, Joel moved. Quietly, instinctively.

His fingers were rough, calloused from years of work, but the way he touched you was anything but.

He tucked the loose strands gently behind your ear, his knuckles barely grazing your cheek. Your eyes met. Locked.

The air between you turned electric, heavy and trembling like a taut string ready to snap.

Joel’s gaze flickered, your lips, your eyes, your lips again, his breathing shallow, heart thundering so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You didn’t move. Neither did he.

His hand lingered, sliding almost hesitantly down, until his palm was resting at the nape of your neck. Large, warm, protective.

Holding you there like he was afraid if he let go, you’d vanish. Your breath caught in your throat.

Joel swallowed hard. His thumb moved ever so slightly, brushing against your skin, the softest, slowest motion—intimate beyond words.

Every fiber of your being screamed for him to close the distance.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, suspended in that fragile space between hesitation and surrender.

And then, Joel leaned in. Slow, deliberate. His forehead almost touched yours. His nose just grazed your cheek. His breath, ragged, fanned over your lips.

He waited, giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

And when your mouth met his, it was soft at first, trembling, full of all the things that had been left unsaid for far too long. It was barely a kiss. Joel’s lips just brushed yours, the softest ghost of a touch, as if he wasn’t sure if he had the right.

The moment he felt your slight intake of breath, your stunned stillness, he immediately pulled back.

His hand left your neck in a flash, and he leaned away, guilt flashing across his features.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice rough, almost pained, his eyes darting away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve—”

But you smiled. A slow, mischievous, almost dangerous curve of your lips. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was just him—but suddenly you felt bold. Hungry.

“You know,” you said, voice dropping into a teasing murmur, “in therapy, touch is supposed to be strictly off-limits.”

Your eyes glinted, a spark of wickedness dancing there. Joel blinked at you, completely thrown off by your shift, struggling to catch up.

“And yet,” you leaned in closer, your breath brushing against his jaw, “sometimes… rules are made to be broken, aren’t they, Mr. Miller?”

Before he could say anything, before he could ruin it with another apology, you kissed him.

Properly, this time. Your mouth pressed firmly to his, tasting him, demanding him.

Joel groaned against your lips, low and guttural, like something deep inside him finally snapped free.

His hands found your waist, strong fingers digging into your sides, desperate to feel more of you.

You moved instinctively, climbing into his lap, straddling him without even thinking, your thighs bracketing his hips.

The second your body settled over him, he let out another soft, broken sound, and you could feel him, already hard against you, hot and throbbing through his jeans.

You rocked your hips just a little, testing, and his hands clamped down harder, a silent plea for you to stop torturing him.

He was kissing you now like he couldn’t get enough—slow, then deep, then messily hungry, tongues tangling, teeth grazing.

His palms were everywhere: your back, your thighs, your waist, exploring every inch of you like he needed to memorize it.

You felt his heart pounding against your chest, matching your own racing pulse.

You were both half-wild already, and yet somehow still trying to hold on, trying not to fall into it too fast. But it was no use.

His salt-and-pepper beard scraped deliciously against your mouth, rough and warm, sending little sparks of heat down your spine every time he shifted closer.

You could feel the slight burn of it on your lips, your cheeks, even your jaw, and it made you crave more. More of him, more of this brutal tenderness he gave you without even thinking.

Joel wasn’t letting you breathe. He wasn’t letting you go. His big body caged you in, his strong hands gripping you like he was terrified you might slip away. But the truth was, you didn’t want to go anywhere. You wanted to drown in him.

The coffee still hung faintly in the air, mixing with the deep scent of Joel’s skin—warm, musky, and grounding.

Outside, the snow was falling harder, the soft hiss of it against the windows making everything inside feel even hotter, even heavier.

The world had faded away, leaving only the frantic beat of your hearts crashing together.

You whimpered against his mouth when he kissed you harder, rougher, desperate.

And you were already so wet, feeling the damp heat pooling between your thighs, your soaked panties sticking uncomfortably against you—but it only made you ache for him even more.

Both of you knew this was wrong. You knew there was still time to stop—to pull away, to breathe, to talk. But neither of you even considered it.

You were already too far gone, drunk on him, on the weed, on the days of tension finally snapping like a brittle thread.

Your hands tangled in his greying hair, pulling sharply when he bit at your lower lip, and Joel groaned—a deep, guttural sound that vibrated right through your core.

He shifted his grip from your face to your hips, hauling you closer against him, grinding your body against his aching hardness.

His palms slid lower, kneading your ass, fingers digging in possessively, making you shudder and moan against him.

Between ragged kisses, he muttered against your lips, voice rough and breaking apart:

“Goddamn… been waitin’ so fuckin’ long for this…”

Another kiss, deeper, hungrier.

“Dreamt about this… ‘bout you…”

Each word hit you like a lightning bolt, setting your whole body on fire.

You answered by kissing him even harder, almost feral now, desperate to feel every inch of him, every ounce of need he poured into you.

The air around you was humid and heavy, thick with the scent of coffee, weed, sweat, and snow-melt leaking from your clothes. It was suffocating in the best way. It smelled like Joel. It smelled like home. And you couldn’t take it anymore.

Your hips started moving on their own, grinding down against the hard bulge in Joel’s jeans. The friction made your head spin, sparks of unbearable pleasure shooting through your core with every slow roll of your body.

You whimpered into his mouth, feeling the way his whole body stiffened under you—and that was it.

That was all it took to make Joel snap.

A low, dangerous growl rumbled in his chest, and in the next second, he attacked your neck with a hunger that stole the breath from your lungs.

You cried out his name, loud, raw, desperate, your fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt, digging into the strong muscles of his back.

He didn’t stop, he licked, sucked, bit into the tender skin of your neck like he was branding you, leaving dark, possessive marks that you were going to wear for days.

Your throat, your collarbone, even the top of your chest—he left no space untouched. And all the while, your hips never stopped moving.

Your body was chasing the friction shamelessly, rolling and grinding against him as Joel buried his face in your neck, groaning, losing his fucking mind over the way you felt on top of him.

The air around you turned even thicker, hotter, electrified with raw, animalistic want. Every breath you took was shaky, every sound you made was ripped straight from your chest.

When he finally tore himself away from your neck, both of you stared at each other—wild, disheveled, drowning in need. No words were spoken. They weren’t needed.

Your hands were trembling when you reached for the hem of his shirt, and Joel didn’t even hesitate.

He grabbed the back of it and yanked it over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room. The sight of his bare chest—broad, scarred, covered in coarse dark hair—made your knees weak.

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, running your hands over his warm, hard skin, feeling the raw strength hidden underneath.

Joel hissed through his teeth when your palms slid over his ribs and up to his chest—but when you brushed your thumbs over his nipples, he growled, low and dangerous, and grabbed you again, desperate and rough.

Now it was his turn.

His fingers tugged at your clothes, fumbling with the buttons, the zippers, the seams—every new inch of bare skin he uncovered made the room spin faster, made his touch rougher, needier. Your shirt fell to the floor. Then your bra.

Joel’s calloused palms immediately covered your breasts, squeezing them, kneading them, making you whimper and arch into his touch.

His eyes were dark, hungry, absolutely wrecked as he stared at you like you were something holy and forbidden all at once.

Each piece of clothing that hit the floor made the air thicken even more, made the space between your bodies buzz like a live wire.

You could feel it with every trembling breath, every desperate glance—the terrifying, undeniable truth: there was no turning back now.

Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you anymore.

He slid his rough palms down your sides, gripping your hips with a strength that made your thighs tremble.

His mouth was all over you—lips, teeth, tongue—claiming every inch he could reach.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped against your skin, his voice low and reverent.

“Could stare at you all damn day… could spend the rest of my life touchin’ you.”

You whimpered at the sound of his praise, your entire body lighting up, clenching with desperate need.

Joel’s hands slid between your thighs and with a sharp tug, he ripped your panties apart like they were made of paper.

“Joel!” you gasped, looking down at the ruined fabric in horror.

“Those were expensive!”

He just chuckled darkly, tossing the torn lace somewhere behind him without a second thought.

“I’ll get ya a whole goddamn drawer full of ‘em,” he said, voice thick with hunger.

“Right now I need you more than I need my next fuckin’ breath.”

You barely had time to recover before he dove between your legs, leaving open-mouthed kisses up the inside of your thigh, growling against your skin.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, desperate, needing to feel all of him.

Joel helped you, cursing under his breath as he shrugged out of his jeans.

What you saw made your heart stutter.

The bulge straining against his underwear was massive. You froze for a second, mouth dry, staring up at him in awe. Joel noticed, of course, and that shit-eating grin he gave you almost made you combust on the spot.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” he teased, voice full of wicked amusement.

“Didn’t expect me to be this big?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came out—only a needy whimper. Joel just laughed, low and cocky, and slid his underwear down.

And holy fuck—you weren’t sure if it was the weed still fogging your brain or just the sheer size of him, but the moment his thick, heavy cock sprang free, your mouth watered instantly.

Without even thinking, you slid off his lap and dropped to your knees between his legs. Joel’s eyes widened slightly, his chest heaving.

“Darlin'… you don’t have to—” he started, but you cut him off with a soft, hungry smile.

“I want to,” you whispered, voice wrecked with need, locking your gaze with his.

You wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, feeling how hot and heavy he was in your palm,

and then you leaned forward, flattening your tongue against the head and swirling it teasingly.

Joel cursed violently, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, baby… that’s it… just like that,” he groaned, threading his fingers into your hair but letting you set the pace.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me… goddamn.”

You bobbed your head slowly at first, taking him deeper inch by inch, feeling the silky skin over the steel hardness underneath.

The salty taste of precum spread across your tongue, making your core clench even harder.

Joel’s thighs tensed on either side of you, his breathing turning ragged. “That’s it, sweetheart… look so pretty with your mouth full of me…”

You hummed around him, sending vibrations up his length, and Joel’s hips jerked involuntarily, forcing a deeper thrust into your mouth.

You moaned in response, the needy, desperate sound vibrating against his cock.

Joel’s fingers tightened in your hair, but he was still careful, letting you control how deep you took him.

The whole room was filled with obscene sounds-wet, messy, desperate. The way you sucked him, the way Joel’s ragged groans filled the heavy, hazy air. It was primal. Raw.

A need that had been building for what felt like a lifetime—and now it was all crashing down in this one electric, filthy moment.

Outside, you could barely hear the wind howling against the windows,

but inside, the only storm was the one raging between you two.

The smell of coffee, sex, and Joel’s own rugged scent filled your lungs with every gasping breath you took.

And Joel couldn’t stop looking at you, couldn’t stop moaning your name in that broken, reverent way that made you feel like the center of his whole goddamn universe.

Your lips wrapped tighter around Joel’s cock, feeling just how massive he really was. Your jaw ached slightly from the stretch, but you didn’t dare stop, didn’t want to stop.

The thick weight of him filled your mouth obscenely, the silky skin sliding against your tongue with every slow, deliberate pull of your lips. The taste of him was salty, heavy, and completely addictive.

Your hands slid up his thighs, feeling the way his muscles were tense, locked tight like he was struggling not to move. His skin was burning hot under your palms, every tiny twitch betraying how close he already was.

Joel was breathing harshly above you, his chest rising and falling in ragged bursts. He had one hand still tangled gently but firmly in your hair, letting you take the lead, but the other hand reached down, grabbing your wrist, squeezing it tightly as if to ground himself, to stop himself from losing control.

“Fuck, baby… so good… so fuckin’ good…” he hissed between clenched teeth.

You hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, feeling the thick, pulsing vein along the underside of his cock drag against your tongue.He was impossibly hard, but his skin was velvety soft, warm, and alive in your mouth.

The weight of him made your lips stretch wide, drool beginning to spill from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

Joel groaned—deep, guttural—and threw his head back against the couch, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought the urge to buck his hips into your mouth.

But he couldn’t hold back completely.

Every so often, his hips jerked forward sharply, driving his cock deeper into your throat, and you gagged lightly around him, tears springing to your eyes.

“Shit—sorry, I—” he panted, voice breaking with restraint.

“Can’t fuckin’ help it… you feel too damn good…”

You whimpered around him, the vibrations making him curse again.

Your thighs rubbed together desperately, because the way Joel was falling apart for you was driving you insane. The aching, throbbing need between your legs was unbearable, slick dripping onto the floor beneath you, but you stayed focused, desperate to make him fall apart.

Joel’s hand in your hair tightened just slightly, not forcing, not controlling, but anchoring himself, like he needed you to keep him tethered to this moment.

His balls were heavy, full, drawn up tight against his body.

You could feel the way they shifted as he struggled to hold himself back, his whole body shuddering under your touch. His fingers caressed your wrist, a silent worship, almost trembling with how badly he wanted you.

Joel’s breathing grew heavier, rougher, more desperate by the second.

You could feel it in the way his thighs trembled under your palms, the way his hand in your hair tightened—not rough, but pleading, as if he was begging for release.

His cock twitched against your tongue, swelling even more impossibly thick as his whole body tensed.

“Fuck… gonna—” he gasped, the words tumbling out broken and raw.

You quickened your pace slightly, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, and that was all it took. With a deep, guttural groan that seemed to tear itself straight from his chest, Joel came.

His hips jerked up uncontrollably, and thick, hot spurts of cum filled your mouth, salty and slightly bitter, coating your tongue and the back of your throat.

You moaned softly at the taste—musky, masculine, entirely him—and swallowed instinctively, wanting to take all of him in.

Joel cursed again, a low, broken “Jesus…” escaping his lips, his voice hoarse and wrecked.

His head fell back, exposing the strong line of his throat, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. Every muscle in his body was drawn tight, trembling under the intensity of his orgasm.

He kept one shaking hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles went white. You pulled back slowly, letting his softening cock slip from your lips with a lewd, wet sound.

A little bit of his release dripped from the corner of your mouth, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand, cheeks burning with heat and pride.

Your eyes met his, Joel’s were dark, wild, overwhelmed, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was his heavy breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.

He reached for you blindly, pulling you up onto his lap, cradling you against his chest as if you were something fragile he needed to protect.

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he whispered against your hair, voice still shaky.

“So damn good…”

You nuzzled into him, heart pounding, still trembling yourself, not from fear or doubt, but from the raw, electric intensity of it all. You had made him come apart at the seams. You had him falling apart for you.

And god, it made the pulsing ache between your thighs almost unbearable. Joel’s hands slid slowly up and down your back, steadying himself as much as you. But you could already feel it: the way his body was starting to react again, the slow, inevitable reignition of need simmering between you both.

He wasn’t done, and neither were you.

Still perched in Joel’s lap, your breathless laughter barely settled from what you just did, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

And in your softest, filthiest voice, you whispered, “You know…I’ve had a lot of clients, but none of them ever came this fast before, Mr. Miller.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you felt Joel’s whole body stiffen under you, like you’d lit a fuse. A low, almost animalistic growl rumbled deep in his chest.

Without a word, Joel flipped you over in one fluid, controlled movement, so now he was the one kneeling in front of you on the couch.

You gasped, startled, but before you could even think to say anything, Joel shot you a dark, wicked smirk — the kind of look that said you were absolutely, completely fucked — and grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide apart.

You barely had time to suck in a breath before Joel ducked down and devoured you. His tongue was hot and messy and desperate, lapping at your soaked core like he’d been starving for you for years.

The first stroke of his tongue up your slit made your entire body jerk, a strangled, broken moan ripping from your throat.

He groaned against you, the vibrations making your head fall back against the couch, your fingers immediately flying into his hair, grabbing at the silver-streaked strands in pure desperation.

Joel was relentless. His mouth was everywhere—licking, sucking, teasing your clit with maddening circles before sliding lower to dip into your entrance, tasting the very core of you.

You were already dripping, wetness coating his lips, his beard glistening under the soft, golden light of the room. He didn’t care. He wanted it messy. He wanted all of you.

Your thighs trembled uncontrollably around his head, but Joel only growled and pulled you even closer, locking his arms around your hips so you couldn’t get away. As if you’d ever want to.

The texture of his tongue was perfect—slightly rough, silky, impossibly skilled as he switched between broad strokes and tight, focused flicks. Your clit was throbbing, every nerve ending on fire, your whole body arching into his mouth.

Joel muttered filthy praises against your pussy between strokes, things like, “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, darlin',” and “Could stay down here forever,” each word sending a new rush of heat through your blood.

You sobbed his name, voice high and cracked, hips grinding helplessly against his mouth as the pressure inside you coiled tighter and tighter.

Joel felt it, he knew you were close, and with a smug, satisfied hum, he slipped two thick fingers inside your fluttering hole, crooking them just right to hit that sweet, devastating spot.

The combination of his fingers stroking inside you and his mouth sucking mercilessly at your clit had you unraveling, fast.

Your body locked up, muscles spasming uncontrollably, a wild, broken cry tearing out of you as you came harder than you ever had in your life.

Joel didn’t stop, not through your shudders, not through your gasps, he licked and kissed you through every wave of your orgasm, savoring every last drop of your release.

Your wetness coated his chin, his lips, dripping messily onto the couch, onto his hands, but he didn’t fucking care.

You collapsed against the cushions, panting, utterly wrecked, your whole body still twitching from aftershocks.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips glistening with you, and in his eyes burned that unbelievably dark, proud look.

He kept caressing your inner thighs for a moment longer, tracing slow, soothing circles with his fingertips to ease you through the lingering waves of pleasure.

Then he leaned closer and murmured in a rough, praising voice:

“Good girl… You did so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.”

Your body almost trembled at his words — but both of you knew this was far from over.

Joel gave you a moment to catch your breath, his heavy breathing matching yours in the thick, charged air between you. You were glistening with sweat, skin flushed and trembling slightly, but to him, you were the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen. His cock, still painfully hard and throbbing, twitched at the sight of you spread out on the couch — all messy and ruined because of him.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

With a deep, desperate grunt, Joel climbed onto the couch, his strong hands sliding under you effortlessly. He shifted your body with ease, guiding you until you were lying flat beneath him. His massive frame hovered above, shadowing you completely, and for a moment, you just stared at each other.

Your glassy, tear-filled eyes met his — his were dark, wild, predatory. Like a starving wolf finally facing the meal he’d been denied for far too long. His broad chest heaved with each ragged breath, muscles taut with restraint.

Before moving further, Joel lowered his head slightly and gave you a subtle nod, silently asking for permission. And with a shy, eager little nod back, you gave it to him.

Joel lined himself up, his thick cock rubbing against your slick folds, and slowly began to push in.

The stretch was intense — he was so damn big that your walls fought to accommodate him, making you hiss sharply through your clenched teeth. Your nails instinctively dug into the hard planes of his back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake, but Joel only groaned at the feeling. He welcomed it. He wanted it. Proof of how good he was making you feel.

He paused for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours, whispering a low, gravelly:

“Breathe… I got you…”

Then, with a deep, primal growl, Joel pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out inside you.

You whimpered at the sudden fullness, your thighs trembling against his hips, but fuck — the feeling of being completely stretched around him, the heavy weight of him deep inside you, was absolutely addictive.

Joel pressed a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead, a shaky attempt to comfort you, to ground you.

And then, he started to move.

Slow, deep thrusts at first. He wanted you to feel everything — every ridge, every pulsing vein of his thick cock dragging along your sensitive walls.

Each push knocked soft, helpless little whimpers from your throat. Each pull left you feeling devastatingly empty, only for him to fill you up again — harder, deeper, more desperate each time.

Joel kept one hand anchored firmly on your hip, the other sliding up to intertwine with your fingers above your head, pinning you down in the most delicious way.

His lips brushed your temple, whispering words between ragged breaths:

“So tight for me… made just for me, ain’t ya, sweet girl?”

Your mind was a whirlwind — your heart pounding so loudly you could barely hear anything else, your body trembling under the relentless, steady rhythm Joel set.

The sounds between you were filthy: the wet slap of skin against skin, the soft creak of the couch under your shifting bodies, and the desperate, broken moans that neither of you could hold back anymore.

Outside, the night was quiet, the cool breeze whispering against the windows — but inside, the heat between you burned hotter than anything else.

A pulsing tension coiled tighter and tighter in your belly, fueled by Joel’s low growls and the constant, overwhelming friction of him dragging against your most sensitive spots.

He noticed it, of course he did — he could feel your walls fluttering around him, trying to pull him even deeper, to keep him inside forever.

Your second orgasm hit you like a violent, breathtaking wave.

It was louder this time, messier — a raw, guttural scream of Joel’s name tearing from your throat as your body seized and spasmed uncontrollably around him.

The world tilted violently, your vision swimming with stars, a sharp ringing filling your ears.

Your entire body was on fire, but at the same time — cold shivers raced down your spine, leaving you trembling and gasping for air like you’d been dragged under a riptide.

Your nails clawed desperately at Joel’s broad shoulders, leaving red, angry marks in your wake as your orgasm wracked through you.

Joel cursed under his breath, the sound low and almost desperate, as he drove into you a few more brutal, stuttering thrusts.

Then, with a deep, broken groan torn straight from his chest, he buried himself deep inside you one last time, and came hard.

His hips jerked against yours, pushing as deep as he could go while thick, hot pulses of his cum flooded your clenching core.

He couldn’t hold back, filling you up so completely it almost hurt, his whole body trembling with the force of his release.

A strangled, guttural version of your name spilled from his lips as he collapsed forward slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing heavily through his nose.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The world around you was nothing but your heartbeats hammering violently against each other’s skin, the room spinning slightly from the exertion — and from the lingering haze of the weed you’d both smoked earlier.

Joel finally shifted, gently easing out of you, and a messy mix of both of your releases immediately began to leak from between your legs, dripping onto the couch cushions below.

He hissed softly at the oversensitivity but didn’t move far — instead, he gathered you carefully into his arms, pulling you close against his sweaty, trembling chest.

You both collapsed back onto the couch — or what was left of it — tangled together, naked, sticky, sweaty, completely and utterly exhausted.

Joel wasn’t young anymore, and after what felt like an eternity without this kind of raw, consuming sex — it was hitting him hard.

You, overwhelmed from the double orgasm and the intense intimacy, could barely keep your eyes open.

Your head spun lazily, your body still twitching slightly in the aftermath, and the only thing grounding you was the heavy, protective weight of Joel wrapped around you.

There was a slow, sticky warmth still dripping between your legs — the mixture of your own release and Joel’s seed slowly seeping out — but you were both too far gone to care.

Joel’s cock, still slightly leaking, twitched weakly against your thigh as he finally gave in to sleep. You let yourself drift off too, tucked safely in his arms, surrounded by his scent, by the overwhelming sense of safety and belonging that you hadn’t even realized you were craving this badly.

The first thing that woke you up were the warm beams of sunlight slicing through the window, landing right across your closed eyelids.

You groaned softly, stretching out your sore, heavy limbs under the covers — and that’s when you realized…

You were in a bed. Under a blanket wearing a shirt. Your fingers brushed the fabric instinctively, recognizing the slightly worn, soft cotton and — unmistakably — Joel’s scent.

Earthy, musky, with that sharp trace of woodsmoke clinging to him like a second skin. It was his shirt, no doubt. Confused and groggy, you sat up, looking around in slow, cautious movements.

How the hell had you gotten here? As you pieced the memories together, it hit you all at once — like a slap across the face. The night before.

Joel.

The sex.

The weed.

You had slept with your client. Your older, rugged client you’d only known for about a week. You had slept with a man old enough to be your father. And you had gotten high as fuck with him beforehand.

Guilt and panic churned violently inside your gut, making your hands tremble as you dropped your face into your palms, groaning miserably.

What the fuck had you done?

But after a few moments of spiraling self-hatred, you forced yourself to pull it together. You needed your clothes. You needed to leave.

You stood up carefully, the oversized shirt barely covering the tops of your thighs, and looked around the room. Your clothes were nowhere in sight.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs as you tiptoed toward the door. The moment you opened them, the smell hit you. The rich, bitter coffee and Joel.

You froze for a moment before cautiously moving closer to the kitchen.

Joel was there, bustling around, wearing a loose, comfortable T-shirt and jeans, sleeves pushed up, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each small movement.

When he heard the door creak, he immediately turned around, his whole face lighting up with a soft, easy smile.

“Morning,” he drawled, his voice still deliciously rough from sleep.

He gestured to the chair across from him at the small kitchen table.

“Come sit’.”

You hesitated for a split second — your mind still a chaotic mess — but eventually shuffled over and sat down awkwardly.

You were honestly stunned.

Not just because of everything that had happened… But because Joel was still here. He hadn’t run off. He hadn’t left you alone, confused, and abandoned. He stayed. He even made coffee.

The conversation started light, typical morning chatter. He asked how you slept, if you were hungry, if you wanted sugar in your coffee…No mention of last night. No mention of the sex.

Just that soft, lazy morning vibe like you were… normal.

You sipped the rich, hot coffee, smiling shyly at him across the table, and he smiled right back, warm and genuine.

Your eyes eventually flicked to the worn leather watch strapped around his wrist, noticing the bullet hole scar near the band, and then panic suddenly punched you in the gut again.

What time was it? You had work!

You shot up from your chair, mumbling frantically about needing to get dressed, about being late — but Joel just chuckled under his breath, calm as ever.

“Relax,” he said, voice low and reassuring.

“I called Tommy. Told him you’re takin’ the day off. He let all your clients know. You’re good.”

You stared at him, stunned, not quite believing it.

But the way he said it, so confident, so casually protective, eventually made you sink back down into your seat, your heart still racing but slowly beginning to calm. You sipped your coffee again, feeling his steady gaze on you.

The silence that followed was… thick. Not hostile, not cold, just full. Only the quiet clink of a coffee cup being set down or the occasional creak of the wooden chair broke through it.

You both avoided each other’s eyes for a while. It was awkward, in the worst possible way. Because you knew. You knew you couldn’t just ignore last night forever.

So eventually, as a professional, as someone who understood the weight of unspoken tension, you broke the silence. Your voice was low, careful.

“About… last night—”

Joel looked up sharply and lifted a hand, stopping you gently but firmly.

“I get it,” he said, his voice calm, steady.

“We were both high. It just sorta… happened.”

You nodded once, lips pressing into a tight, almost guilty line. He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t exactly right either. The quiet returned for a moment, a little softer this time. Then you cleared your throat.

“Uh… Do you happen to know where my clothes ended up?”

Joel nodded, a low breath left through his nose before he stood up.

“Yeah, I got ‘em.”

He disappeared into the hallway and returned a moment later with your neatly folded clothes. You stood up, took them slowly, your fingers brushing his as you did.

You didn’t look him in the eyes, but you felt his gaze, heavy and lingering, sliding over you like he hadn’t just seen you bare and shaking under him a few hours ago. Then he spoke again, voice softer now.

“Look… if you’re still okay with it, I’d like to keep meetin’. I mean, professionally. I think it’s… helpin’.”

You finally looked at him — really looked at him. There was something behind his words. Something uncertain. But also hopeful.

You nodded, lips curling just barely.

“Sure. We can keep meeting.”

He gave the smallest, almost imperceptible smile. Like something inside him had unclenched.

You turned and headed toward the guest room to change, feeling the heat of his gaze on your back the whole way.

And the irony wasn’t lost on you, how you now moved through this house wearing his scent, still sticky between your thighs, pretending like this was normal.

Like you hadn’t just let him tear you apart with his mouth, his hands, his— You stopped. Breathed. Got dressed.

When you finally came out, dressed, hair tied up, a little more composed, Joel was leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. The silence between you stretched heavy, charged with everything that had happened the night before, and everything neither of you had said yet.

You cleared your throat softly and said, “Well… I guess I should probably go.”

Joel didn’t respond at first. But the way his expression shifted, just slightly, told you everything. Surprise, a flicker of disappointment… maybe even hurt. Like he’d expected you to stay, to share this morning with him. But he didn’t try to stop you. He understood. Maybe you both were still processing what the hell last night even meant.

He simply nodded and walked with you, until you reached the front door. He opened it for you, stepping aside.

You stopped in the doorway, hesitating. Then you turned your head just slightly and said with a soft, knowing smile, “Just so you know… I wasn’t that high.”

Joel froze. You didn’t wait for a response — you just walked off, the sunlight catching your hair as you disappeared down the street.

Joel stood there for a second, the echo of your words still ringing in the air like a shot. Then he let out a low chuckle, shook his head in disbelief, and muttered to himself,

“Goddamn woman…”

Hiii, thank you so much for reading!

I hope you guys enjoyed it! If you have any suggestions, don’t hesitate to let me know! I’d also be super happy for any feedback; whether it’s a reblog, comment, like, or even a follow.

Have a nice day!

LOVE YA🌸💗

[quin-ns]

Getaway Car (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 4.7K

Summary: your boyfriend, topper, isn’t making midsummers as fun as you were hoping. lucky for you, rafe is there to fix that

Tags: (18+), cheating, smidge of topper x reader, fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, rafe and reader are messy asf

A/N: kinda old bc I was gonna make it a series but it wasn’t working out so here it is as a stand alone 🫶 it’s been a while and I wanted to post something before the year ends

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

You were beginning to wonder what you were even doing here.

Midsummers was supposed to be the perfect summer event. Everyone got all dressed up to dance with their friends and have a fun night. You were more than ready for a fun night.

The light pink dress flowed down to your ankles and fit your body just right. Your makeup and hair were done nicely, courtesy of your best friend, Sarah. Unfortunately for the both of you, she was sick and couldn’t go this year. You were grateful to her for still helping you out despite her stuffy nose. You even had a date that you knew turned heads. The two of you were the perfect couple on the surface.

The problem with Topper was that he seemed more interested in showing you off than actually just being there with you.

Dating Topper was nothing you had planned. You first got to know him as a friend of friends, but you liked him enough. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say “no” when he asked you out and said he wanted to get to know you better.

Now here you were, holding Topper’s arm as he led you around the party, moving between conversations with his friends.

You didn’t mind so much at first. But when you broke off on your own to try and find some friends of your own, Topper popped up behind you.

“There you are,” he commented, placing himself at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You looked over at him as an arm slid around your waist. In your peripheral you saw the girls you were talking to moving away from the both of you. You forced a smile so as to not make a scene.

“You can talk to your friends, why can’t I talk to mine?” you wondered, raising your brows.

Topper laughed and shook his head. “I never said you couldn’t. When Sarah gets here we can meet up with her.”

His words meant nothing. He was already leading you back where he wanted to go.

“Sarah’s not coming. She’s sick,” you reminded him.

“So she’s not coming?” He sounded disappointed. You shook your head, feeling the same disappointment. “That sucks.”

You ended up standing idly by while he talked to Rafe and Kelce. You knew both of them pretty well, more so Rafe than Kelce. Rafe was Sarah’s brother after all.

You occupied yourself by trying to remember all the words to your favorite song in your head, tuning them out almost entirely.

“What about you, Y/N?” Rafe said, cutting through your second repeat of the song. You blinked, missing the question. “Are you having fun?” he repeated what you assumed he had asked before.

You almost laughed to yourself. There was a slight shift in Rafe’s face. It was like he could tell.

“Yeah, I’m having a blast,” you agreed sarcastically, giving Topper a phony smile—one which he bought.

Rafe smirked.

“Hey, there he is,” Kelce said in a hushed tone to Topper and Rafe, nodding his head past you. You turned and spotted the bar, where two bartenders were trading places. “The taller guy—he’s the one that doesn’t card.”

You must’ve missed that part of the conversation, and you had no interest in it as you turned back. It didn’t surprise you that getting drunk had climbed to the top of their priority list.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling thirsty,” Topper decided.

“Actually, I’m good,” you spoke up when he tried to tug you along. You saw his smile fade when you kept your feet planted. “You go ahead.”

Topper chuckled suddenly, like you were messing with him.

“For real?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” Rafe said as if you weren’t standing right there. You would’ve been offended if you didn’t see what he was doing.

Topper laughed it off with a, “Thanks, man,” and followed Kelce away to the bar.

He trusted Rafe, so maybe he didn’t think he had to compete for your attention with him like he assumed he had to with your friends.

Rafe eyed you up and down, taking in the way you let yourself relax.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re happy to get away from him,” he said after a moment.

“Oh no, I’m having a blast. Can’t you tell?” you questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm. You caught yourself after a second, reminding yourself that Rafe was basically Topper’s best friend. “Sorry, I’m being mean. It’s not that bad.”

“Be mean all you want,” Rafe replied, stepping closer to stand directly across from you. He leaned like he was telling you a secret. “And don’t apologize for it.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, looking him over as he stood back up straight, trying to decide if he meant it or not. After only a second it was clear he did.

Rafe threw a look over his shoulder to the bar. Topper and Kelce were waiting behind a few others.

“You wanna sit down? They might be a while.”

You nodded, because why the hell not?

Finding an empty table was a bit of a challenge, but the two of you managed eventually. Rafe pulled out your chair for you, and even chuckled at your comment about chivalry not being dead after all.

Instead of crossing around the table to sit down opposite of you, he pulled out the chair right next to yours. He sat in it sideways, so you turned in your seat to face him. Your knees were basically touching, but you didn’t mind.

“So, you here by yourself?” you wondered, just making conversation.

“I’m here with you.”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but not in the same way you had been with Topper most of the night.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Yeah, I am,” Rafe revealed, smirking to himself before adding, “But it’s not like I didn’t have options.”

You raised your brows at his brazenness—not shocked, just amused.

“Because you’re so interesting?” you teased, the corner of your lip tugging up.

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

You placed your elbow on the table and leaned on your hand, watching him, waiting for his overconfident answer.

He had to have known you were messing with him, maybe even baiting him. You usually did. You always enjoyed the back-and-forths you’d have with him. Rafe gave you a subdued smile.

“Like… I wouldn’t treat my date like an accessory and then ditch her, for one.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself. “Touché.”

“And I know how to have fun,” he added, voice laced with charm. You’d never noticed that before.

You hummed and straightened back. “Well, maybe you should’ve asked me,” you joked.

“Maybe I should’ve,” Rafe drawled. He sounded genuine, which caught you off guard. “You seem bored out of your mind—well, before we started talking,” he pointed out, giving himself an ego boost, slightly changing the topic. “Why even come?”

“Topper wanted to,” you filled in, willing to let it slide for now. “I thought it would be fun, but all the things that would’ve been fun for me got totally ignored.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Rafe wondered. You didn’t remember his blue eyes ever looking this intense, but then again, you didn’t think you’d ever been this close to him.

“Right this very second?”

“Sure.”

You glanced around at the other tables. Everyone was caught up in conversation, having a nice time with their friends and their dates and their families.

“Leave, probably,” you admitted, looking back at Rafe.

He nodded, silently thinking it over.

Finally, he shrugged a little and said, “Okay.”

You started to laugh. “You’re not serious…” you trailed off as he stood, raising his brows, as if to say he was. “What about Topper?”

“What about him?” Rafe asked plainly, like he’d already forgotten all about his friend.

You blinked, then stood. You weren’t exactly sure why he’d been able to convince you so easily.

“Damn the consequences,” you whispered to yourself, although it was easier said than done.

Rafe gave you a subtle smirk, nodded his head to the door. He even held out an arm, which you took with a nervous smile.

It felt strange, being on Rafe’s arm. It was a position you’d never thought you’d be in, nor had you thought about it. Sure, you got along with Rafe pretty well, and he did look handsome tonight (and most days…) but he was always just Sarah’s brother. Then, your boyfriend's best friend.

Now? Now he was your rescuer, saving you from this dull affair that should’ve been an exciting night.

Maybe it still could be.

Rafe was leading the two of you to the door, quietly making comments to you about other partygoers. You laughed at the jokes, unintentionally drawing attention to yourself.

Rafe didn’t seem to mind the way your peers began to look at you, not exactly hiding their staring. It seemed like everyone knew you and Topper were together despite only about a month of dating. You could guess what they were thinking and word traveled fast in the Figure Eight.

It probably should’ve bothered you more than it did, the way a few started to whisper, but you were more concerned with leaving than trying to correct their perception.

“Don’t look, walk faster,” Rafe muttered, leaning down close to you.

You didn’t realize what he was talking about until you disobeyed him and glanced over your shoulder. Sure enough, Topper was making his way around the room. Presumably looking for you.

You snapped your head back forward, trying to make your escape while doing as little damage as possible.

The big entrance door, soon to be an exit, was right ahead.

“Y/N?” Topper’s voice carried across the room, but you kept your head forward, not daring to look. “Hey, over here!”

In the large windows, you saw his reflection vaguely in the distance. He was getting closer to you, weaving through the crowd, waving a hand.

You didn’t want him to stop you. Sure, you could’ve turned and told him to stop and that you were leaving, but that was way more of a scene than you wanted to create. What you did wasn’t exactly any better, but it avoided a verbal altercation in front of everyone you knew.

You broke apart from Rafe to move faster, speed walking the last few feet to the door. It was like he read your mind, jumping out ahead of you to pull the door open.

You hadn’t planned on it, but the two of you were rushing down the stairs of the country club.

“My truck’s up ahead parked on the street. I didn’t want to park in the lot,” Rafe informed when you got to the bottom step.

“Of course you didn’t.”

You spared a glance to one of the large windows and saw Topper looking out it. You snapped your head back, not wanting to make eye contact in case he saw you. You picked up the pace. By a lot. Not figuratively but literally running away.

Rafe easily could’ve out run you, but he chose to stick close when he caught up. You weren’t expecting it when Rafe reached down to grab your hand, making sure you were right by him as the two of you ran for his truck.

You let your shoes fall off your feet as you broke out into a full out sprint. A laugh tore out from you, filling the air around you. You felt so free as the sound of your own joy hit your ears.

You knew people were watching from the patio area, but as you arrived at Rafe’s truck, you hardly noticed.

“This is crazy,” you said to yourself as you reared to a stop. Your lungs were close to burning and your bare feet started to ache, but you were smiling so brightly. “Are we actually doing this?”

“If you get in the truck we are,” Rafe replied smoothly, opening the passenger door for you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but something in the distance cut you off.

“Hey! Y/N!” shouted a familiar voice.

Looking back towards the club, you saw none other than Topper in that beige suit you were starting to find tacky. He was running towards you, even holding one of your shoes. You would’ve laughed again if your heart wasn’t racing.

Your eyes met Rafe’s, finding the same anticipation in them that you felt coursing through your body. The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, like he knew what you were going to do before you did it.

You climbed into the passenger seat without further hesitation. Rafe shut the door behind you and ran around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the ignition. The truck roared to life. Rafe looked over to you with a full grin.

You shared the same expression until you made the mistake of glancing out the passenger window, seeing Topper running towards the truck.

“Go, go, go!” you rushed out, urging Rafe to slam on the gas. You didn’t even know what you were saying.

That’s exactly what he did, speeding the two of you away from the country club until there was only the sound of the truck's engine and heavy breathing.

When the twinkling lights faded far behind you, Rafe eased in the gas. Topper was left in the dust, no way to catch up.

You exchanged a look, studying one another. The panic on your face shifted back to a smile, causing Rafe to do the same.

A victorious laughter left you suddenly, realizing the insanity of the situation. Rafe looked between you and the road, letting out a chuckle. Whether it be for the same reason as you or the way you reacted, you didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, finally relaxing back in the seat. “That was so exciting. Why was that so exciting?” Rafe didn’t answer, but it seemed like he at least thought of one as he smirked to himself. “Thank you for the prison break,” you told him, letting your appreciation seep into your teasing words.

“You looked like you needed it, I could tell before we even sat down,” Rafe pointed out. Why did he get that but Topper didn’t? “Besides, that was way more fun than that entire night combined.”

You let out a sigh, trying to not let guilt overcome your adrenaline high. “Topper’s gonna be pissed,” you acknowledged, recalling his face as Rafe sped away.

“So?” Rafe wondered without hesitation.

Your brows curved. Topper was supposed to be his best friend, and he’d just run off with his girlfriend. Or were you his girlfriend that ran off with his best friend? The semantics didn’t really matter in the end, it wasn’t like it meant anything other than the fact that you needed to be anywhere but that party.

You looked out the window, resting your elbow on it and leaning against your fist. You stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the dark shadows of trees and dispersed mansions as they passed by.

“Just in case Topper didn’t tell you, you look beautiful tonight,” Rafe commented out of nowhere, filling the silence.

You gave him a curious look. You couldn’t remember if Rafe had ever said anything like that to you.

His gaze was mostly fixated on the road, but you saw the way his eyes darted to the side, checking on you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, because he was right, Topper hadn’t even mentioned it.

He’d complimented your dress for the way it fit your body and went well with his suit, and he’d been relieved by the way you’d shown up perfectly on time, and even mentioned how Sarah had done your hair, but nothing about you as a whole. Just the bits and pieces.

“For the record, you look very handsome,” you told Rafe, a small smile forming. “And I’m not just saying that ‘cause you said something nice to me.”

He glanced over to you fully this time, a look you couldn’t quite place on his face. Sure, he was smiling, but there was something else in his eyes.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

In the past, you would’ve found admitting that out loud weird since he was Sarah’s brother, but something about being with him now felt different. He wasn’t Sarah’s brother who you were sorta friends with, he was Rafe, the guy who’d gone out of his way to rescue you from a shitty night.

Well, now maybe you could upgrade him from “sorta friend” to just “friend”. He’d earned it, that was for sure.

It was still crazy to you, what you’d just done, even if it was only minutes ago. Something about it all stuck in your head. The rush you got from just talking—okay, maybe even flirting a little—with Rafe was more than you had felt with Topper in weeks. And the great escape added on? You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that exhilarated.

“You just gonna stare at me the rest of the drive?” Rafe teased, eyeing you in his peripheral.

Your cheeks felt warm as you looked away, focusing back out the window instead.

“Where are we even going?” you wondered, ignoring his comment.

“Good point,” Rafe said. “I actually don’t know.”

You weren’t expecting him to pull the truck off to the side of the road. There was nothing around you except for trees and distant street lights on either side. He parked in a gap between houses, making sure to not be in front of anyone’s property. People were weird about that, especially the older ones. Although you guessed a decent amount of them would be at Midsummers anyway.

“Why’d you stop?”

Rafe shrugged in response, eyes taking you in. “Just wanted to be able to look at you. Kinda hard when I’m driving.” He was purposefully trying to make you feel flustered, and it was working. “Figure out where you wanna go and I’ll take you.”

Your first thought was home, but something in the back of your mind urged you to not end the night so soon. You were having fun with Rafe, something you didn’t anticipate. The impulsiveness was still making your heart race.

It only took you a moment to realize it wasn’t just that. Rafe was watching you, and you were watching him. Your lips parted as you took a shallow breath, the air in the truck somehow becoming thicker. His eyes flicked to your lips as you did so, and it wasn’t subtle by any means.

Your own hushed words rang back in your mind.

Consequences be damned.

You weren’t sure who lunged forward first, but in a matter of seconds your lips were attached to Rafe’s.

You weren’t sure of the exact how or why, either, but you wanted to. That was enough for the moment.

Rafe’s hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you to him as he dominated the kiss. All the air seemed to leave your lungs. Your eyes slid shut as you moaned into the kiss.

If someone would have told you even minutes ago that you’d be making out with Rafe Cameron, you wouldn't have believed them.

Now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Your mind began to make the comparison to Topper, noting Rafe’s neediness for you and the passion of it all, but the other boy faded completely from your mind.

Rafe kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do and had to make it count. You’d never felt so desirable, and it sent a rush of electricity through your body. When he bit your lip it added an extra jolt.

It was the opposite of graceful, a fumble of limbs and tangled fabric and trying to not part from one another, but you eventually ended up in the backseat.

Rafe was on top of you now, curious hands sliding down your body as he devoured your lips. You made no attempt to stop him. You didn’t want him too. The rush was too strong.

You gasped against his lips when Rafe pushed your dress up around your hips, hands gripping your waist, savoring the feel of your bare skin beneath his palms.

Rafe knelt between your legs, fingers dipping in the waistband of your underwear. They moved further until he was running a finger through your folds. Your face grew warm knowing he could feel how wet you already were.

A low groan rumbled from deep in Rafe’s chest and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You were too consumed by lust.

Rafe slid one finger in, stroking it inside slowly before adding another one. You shivered as he thrust and curled his fingers. You lost track of the minutes before he added another one, and you were gasping by the time he pulled them away entirely.

Before you could beg for more he was already abliging you. He gripped the edges of your underwear and ripped the material from you with sheer force, then discarded the remains on the floor of his truck. He could’ve just taken them off, and you both knew that. Maybe he was showing off his strength to fluster you or he really just couldn’t contain himself, but it didn’t matter.

His hands went for his belt next, whipping it off like he was going for speed. Your eyes fell, watching as he unbuttoned his pants.

Your gaze immediately flicked away when he shoved them down.

Were you really gonna do this? Hook up with Rafe Cameron?

You felt Rafe’s eyes on you as he gripped his cock, stroking himself, watching you.

It only took one look back at him to decide yeah, you were.

The smirk that crossed his face was one of pure lust, it was like he could read your mind.

Still, when he situated himself between your legs, lining himself up with your entrance, he asked, “This what you want?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your body already overheated. “I want it.”

That was all it took for him to push into you. The slow stretch of him took the air from your lungs.

You finally took a breath when he was fully seated inside you. He watched you with hungry eyes, hands running along your thighs, attempting to sooth you and control himself.

Words failed you, but when you adjusted, you gave him a nod.

The first thrust was experimental, testing the waters. When your body reacted, quivering with anticipation, Rafe moved again.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. He had no choice but to hover on top of you, placing his forearm near your head, but neither of you were exactly mad about it.

The space in the back seat was entirely too cramped. You were completely consumed by his presence. It was perfect.

You moaned into his mouth when he captured your lips for a kiss, the roughness matching the slam of his hips as he found a pace he liked. You were already a mess beneath him, body shivering with each thrust.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name over and over. It was the only thing that you could manage to say.

His lips trailed to your neck and your hand rose to tangle in his hair. His teeth pressed to your skin, threatening to bite. Before he could, you pulled him back. He groaned into your collarbone instead, hips slamming into your ass, cock filling you entirely.

The sound of skin against skin paired with noises of desperation from both of you filled the small space. You wanted nothing else to exist outside of the backseat.

Rafe found your sweet spot in little time and elicited moans from you with every thrust. Your hands went to his back, fingers clutching the fabric of his blazer as your toes curled.

You took everything he gave you, even when the heat and overwhelming pleasure began to smother you.

Rafe could tell when you were getting close and refused to let up, wanting to not only feel but watch you experience bliss all because of him.

You felt exposed beneath his hungry gaze, but in the best way. Like you were the thing of his dreams that finally, finally came true.

Your whole body tensed, nails digging in and cunt clenching down as your orgasm crashed over you. The wave was so intense you thought you might drown in it, but Rafe was there, muttering sweet nothing in your ear, dragging you back to shore.

Before you could come down from your high, Rafe was tipping over the edge. He gave a few more sharp thrusts of his hips before his cock twitched inside you. With a deep moan of your name that made your cunt throb, Rafe let go, filling you.

Your legs tightened around him, holding him there as the two of you heaved for air, riding out the pleasure together.

Finally, Rafe pressed a long kiss to your swollen lips before straightening back up.

You needed a few extra seconds to recover, so you instead watched as he tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He ran his hands through his hair and for the most part he was good as new. Aside from your lipstick staining his lips, that is.

You, on the other hand, knew you probably looked like a mess.

Rafe helped you sit up. He straightened out your dress and hummed.

“I know I said it before, but you’re so fucking beautiful,” Rafe praised, eyes drinking you in, and his words left little room for you to doubt him. “You don’t get what you do to me.”

“I think I have some idea,” you mused, cracking a small smile.

Rafe smirked, because how could he argue?

Getting back into the front seat was a little more awkward than falling together into the back in a fit of passion.

You were aware of what was dripping between your legs, and tried to not further the mess. You’d already have to wash your dress, might as well spare his car seats.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Rafe offered as he started the car again.

You could hear in his voice that he hoped you’d say yes, but you didn’t think you could pass by Sarah and pretend you weren’t there for her brother.

Oh god… Sarah.

As you looked to Rafe, you were forced to remember that he was your best friend’s brother. And if that combination wasn’t bad enough, someone else crept into your head—your boyfriend, who you’d totally just cheated on. There wasn’t a nicer way to put it.

Your mouth felt dry as you swallowed. The carefree, relieved attitude you held faded.

“I need to get home,” you decided, voice weaker than it had been before.

Rafe was quiet for a moment before agreeing.

You felt silly, not knowing what to say to him now after all that, but you couldn’t get out of your own head, wondering if you were a terrible person.

Well, more accurately, you couldn’t stop thinking about the answer. You were certain you knew it.

When Rafe stopped outside of your house and put the truck in park, he looked at you with a gaze so intense you were held in place.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N,” Rafe professed, tone steady. He believed it. “I know you know that.”

You almost opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you said instead, climbing out of the truck.

As you crossed across the front, you heard the light buzz of his window rolling down.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?” Rafe called, prolonging the goodbye. “I had fun,” he added, and your footsteps faltered. “And I don’t regret a thing.”

Rafe stayed until you got to your front door, found the key under the mat, and slipped inside.

Only when the door shut did the truck pull away. You may or may not have watched out the window, his parting words replaying in your mind.

As guilty as you felt, you didn’t either, and that might’ve been the worst part.

[obx-may]

Oh baby -Rafe Cameron

warnings: unplanned pregnancy.

summary: when you unexpectedly find yourself pregnant with rafe’s baby you both decide to keep it from your friends and family to give you time to process the new information, though, it proves to be more difficult than you thought.

notes: hellooo my lovelies! i just wanted to remind you that my asks are open for any smau’s you want to see😙. this is much longer since i can now add more than ten pics, woo! i hope you enjoy!!!🫶🏼✨

masterlist

liked by rafecameron, kieraaa and others

yourusername: midsummers💫🌸

-comments-

rafecameron: you looked beautiful babe (as always)

-> yourusername: u cutie

topperr: the hair’s sick

sarahcam: love uuuu!

-> yourusername: love u right back💓

jjmbank: fine asf

-> rafecameron: how many times do i have to kick your ass for you to get that she’s MINE and you can’t say shit like that?

-> jjmbank: 🤷‍♂️

kieraaa: AHH gorgeous gorgeous girl🤗

-> yourusername: 🫶🫶🫶

liked by sarahcam, heypope and others

yourusername: new camera who dis

-comments-

rafecameron: my muse

-> yourusername: how romantic😭💘

kiaraaa: you’re a model babe

-> yourusername: says you😌

user: girl it’s summer why aren’t we partying?!!👯‍♀️🍾

-> yourusername: got other priorities this year🫶

-> user: other priorities? when did you become the mom of the friend group?😂 xx

liked by rafecameron, johnbee and others

yourusername: baby cameron loading…🤍

-comments-

rafecameron: both of my babies

-> yourusername: 🫂

sarahcam: OH MY GOODNESS!!🥳💞

-> yourusername: auntie sarah🤗

-> sarahcam: i’m in tears.

jjmbank: okay @rafecameron you’ve officially got ‘er

-> kelcefigure8: have you been living under a rock? he’s always had her

-> jjmbank: chill man, it was just a joke🥱

topperr: congratulations guys!!🎉

kiaraaa: i knew it!!!!!!!🥹

[jellitchi]

hello friends heres some more artist au ,,, i have A huge infodump under the cut ... u were warned

uhm mumbo is a tattoo artist in this au, hes the towns electrician primarily but he does tattoo work too. hes terrified of needles on his own skin but really enjoys the process of tattooing. i think he mostly does geometric stuff. probably hrm.

gem runs and owns the fishing dock/bait shop. shes born and raised in this town so shes been here her whole life. shes okay at painting but her real passion is with clay- specifically sculpting. shes taking a pottery workshop w grian but she like the freedom sculpting has that the wheel cant really give her...? if that makes sense.. she still likes it. when she paints she gravitates towards gouache and watercolors, she likes the fluidity she can achieve w em. also is very fond of how gouache lets u set it down then return and reactivate it w water again lol

pearl is a relatively successful artist, shes constantly traveling for art shows and also to host workshops/look for inspiration. she used to paint a lot, thats how she kinda got her fame... she used to paint this one girl a lot idk she has curly orange hair and freckles and shes always painted really beautifully. then stuff happened and now pearl mostly sculpts now. she still paints and her paintings are her most popular works but shes more into working w clay.

hm more abt this au, pearl and grian are siblings and both grew up learning oil painting. jimmy is also in this au im still figuring out a role but hes their cousin— basically brother— i was thinking pearls manager js coz i think itd b funny lol.

the setting is a small coastal town hrmm havent thought too much else abt it, was mostly pulling from coastal norcal ish...

in this au scar and grian are really really tight and have been living w each other for like 5/6 ish years. i dont think they officially get tgt... they think theyre woke asf n say they dont like labels (kinda kidding) the real reason is just timing. whenever grian is sick of running circles and works up the courage, scar usually has some complications hes working through and grian feels like hed just be another stressor added to his plate so he just wills it away... then when scar is like Im gonna do it. Im gonna tell him. Grian is experiencing sum kinda dilemma and is rly stressed so then scar is like well it can wait... (this goes on forEver.) whenever they do sync up, usually theyre far too scared about ruining their friendship and having to find a new roommate or something. they both r very important to each other and if bottling up their feelings means they can hold onto each other and keep each other around then thats what theyll do...! yeah theyre doomed🤦‍♂️.... they still basically do romantic activities tgt- they just think its normal coz its them.... also everyone around them thinks theyre secretly dating or smth anyways Yeah this is the au in a nutshell im such a sucker for long term pinning friends to lovers or whatever😭😭😭😭😭...

[4kozy]

sophia as ur monster gf hcs

━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━

━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━

sophia is a vampire, so messes in your home is a guarantee. she’s a messy eater; regardless of if it’s your blood or someone else’s, there’s gonna be a lot of cleaning up afterwards.

vamp soph has very pointy ears and teeth. she doesn’t have claws–common misconception–but she likes to get acrylics to match the look. she’s deathly pale when hungry, a big problem for her because she misses the natural color of her lips from time to time, but hates having to feed to get it back.

vamp soph mentioned feeding on you as nonchalantly as she could ( so as obvious as possible ) at the start of your relationship… saying how good you smelled, how much she wanted to try you, how feeding was an honor… it was kinda cute, so you kept teasing her as if you never heard any of it. she got so sick of it😭 she almost tackled you so you’d listen… ( ended differently than planned )

vamp soph always kisses you deep before eating–she says it makes you taste better, but you think it’s an excuse to make out. you also know that it’s to relax you before her fangs pierce your pulse, and that way, it hurts you a lot less. ( sometimes she gets drunk off of it, not stopping until you weakly push her off, in which case she profusely apologizes, giving you the aftercare of the gods🙏 )

vamp soph does NOT go outside. no, the sun doesn’t burn her alive, but it might as well… she also doesn’t do well in temperatures that aren’t moderate. fall and early spring are the times you go out the most–not too cold; not too hot.

vamp soph would sooner fly you everywhere you need to go than invest in a car. she thinks they’re the root of all evil, and would rather you stay home anyways.

vamp soph is very expressive–she never has to say that she’s feeling anything because she wears her heart on her face…? she’s upset? oh, you know. she’s pleased? oh, honey we can tell. you don’t tell her this either, because she will lie in your face about how she’s feeling even though it’s really obvious.

when vamp soph first fed on you, it kinda linked you two together. when you feel physical pain, so does she. it’d be a bit more romantic if you weren’t so clumsy at the job.

vamp soph doesn’t sleep period. she will lay in bed with you with her arms crossed and eyes open. she is literally counting the seconds until you wake up again. she never brings it up because she knows you like sleeping with her and you’d feel bad.

vamp soph can’t eat anything but blood ( and odder enough, raw butter ) and STILL takes the time out to make you dinner; yes, it’s good asf; yes, you ask for seconds and thirds.

vamp soph likes to play games with you more than anything. you two don’t play collaborative games anymore–a phantom woman knocked on your door and kinda cussed y’all out… ( you guys apologized and now hang out regularly. sophia has to wear 3 layers though. )

vamp soph likes to collect antique sharp objects! it’s cool until you’re asleep and wake up to sophia holding a broadsword over your face! more incidents of falling weapons occur and you thank whatever otherworldly force for her reflexes.

vamp soph broods like a teenage boy and listens to ptv very obnoxiously when it’s her journaling time. she likes to say that vampires have concerns the world would blow up over… falling over while attempting to stand up after a week of flying straight is not one of them.

vamp soph is super protective over you. remember how she can feel when you get hurt? it took months for her to stop showing up at the job after a prick–she still shows up for a fall every time; she also takes you home, because why would anyone beef with a vampire?

when vamp soph met you, she swore off eating anybody else… you think it’s cus she’s picky, and she thinks you guys are soulmates.

vamp soph loves receiving cheek kisses. especially after rescuing you from work, it’s like her special reward.

like manon, i also see vamp soph as being lesser on the possessive side, just because everyone can see that you’re taken. also she’s really confident in herself; you’d be stupid to try anything. you are very very smart! ( unfortunately some people are not. sophia knows she swore off eating anyone else but when that idiot man was messing with you, she got so mad she couldn’t control herself. she didn’t fully eat him–he tasted quite gross–but the point was made when his mangled body was found off the side of the road… oh how protective your girlfriend gets. )

vamp soph’s fav thing to do with you is talk. conversations with her are never dull, so you enjoy them too!

vamp soph was turned a long, long, long time ago. you don’t ask about her age, or who turned her, it’s a topic that isn’t taken very well. ( sophia spent the first thirty years of her life post-turn almost animal-like–vampires only get more human the more they feed )

another ability of vamp soph’s that backfires on her a lot is her shape shifting. this one is still one she has yet to control, her body usually going haywire when you make her flustered. ( tugging on her cheeks teasingly ended up with them stretching to 22 inches. it took a lot of butter, hard work, and apologies stifled by laughter–on your end–to fix it. )

vamp soph can also hypnotize you. she doesn’t realize when she’s doing it most of the time, until she jokingly tells you to die on the game and you rush to the nearest weapon ( which wasn’t far due to her odd obsession with them ) and she has to restrain you for the next hour.

vamp soph is really loud and argumentative; this is only exacerbated by the fact that she’s lived for hundreds of years so she thinks she knows better than you do. when google gets pulled out, phones get broken. and better phones get bought…

when vamp soph gets asked her favorite era of life, she will 100% without fail say it’s the one with you in it. it’s not meant to be corny, it’s genuinely how she feels about you.

vamp soph likes taking extravagant baths with you, and she will do one every night with a different theme. your favorite was pride month ‘23.

you like to massage vamp soph a lot! for such a homebody she gets a bunch of knots in her back. ( it has something to do with her workout routine… flying… for a long time… )

vamp soph likes to capture spiders in your home and name them. you currently have a lot more than you’d be comfortable with, but you love sophia more than you hate spiders.

you like to crochet vamp soph new clothes all the time. you originally picked it up as a side hobby, but seeing her enjoy every piece–from the ugly ducklings to the beautiful swans–you continued. she wears everything and proudly shows them off to everyone in the building, despite your embarrassment.

you and vamp soph’s favorite place ( outside of your home, that is ) is the beach! especially at night, you both love it there.

where the phantom neighbor’s apartment is minimal with barely anything but string lights and the occasional clothes on the floor, you and vamp soph turn your place into a maximalist dream–there is stuff everywhere, in a way that’s full but not cluttered. it reminds her childhood home in a way, her father was a toy store owner in their town.

you laugh at all the jokes vamp soph tells, even when they aren’t funny, just because you know your laughter makes her happy.

after 4 years of being together, and multiple internal monologues, you finally bring up to vamp soph about your wish to be turned. sophia stares at you like you’ve grown three heads. this is equally because of her trauma and her need to keep you safe at all costs. she tries to argue with you, saying you’ll need to eat a lot to turn human, you’ll have horrible pain for the first few weeks–or in her case years, and that living forever means watching the people you love die. you’re determined though, telling her that it’s forever with her or nothing, and you’d be willing to do anything it takes for it to work. after a few months of pleading, she finally relents, and just as she told you, it hurts like fucking hell. she brings you humans every day, hoping that you’ll have it just a bit easier, taking care of you the best way she knows how. when you recover, all you can feel is overwhelming love, and you know you’ve made the right decision 🩷

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wow vampire sophia😍😍??? how surprising!!! all i know is that i need her–and bad. (in a tone of voice that is not appropriate)

[omniscient3teabag]

its my dads birthday today:)) so heres a ramble of what people trying 2 celebrate captain marvels birthday without him thinking it WAS for his birthday (he never told anyone his actual birthday)

they DEFINITELY think he doesn't have an actual bday. being a demi-god n like, living lightning n all and whenever they ask, cm either gives them a totally random date that changes everytime they ask ORRR he would be like " uh. hmmm . uhhHEY LOOK A PUPPY " n change the subject

so they settle on the day cap joined the justice league as his birthday!!

obviously, cm doesn't notice anything at first but then - one day after just getting to the watchtower superman comes up to him, is all like " Hey cap!! i wanted to give you something :)) " (its homemade pie) and billys like; " oh! aww thanks superman:D this is amazing wow!! " (he cant,, eat it as cm but sick!) and accepts it because ?? supermans cool asf and maybe he just wanted to give stuff today!!

but then diana chimes in and says SHE !! also has a gift for him too!! it's an artifact that she had saved for him as well. and billy thinks " woah!! this must be my lucky day!! no one ever gives me as many gifts as this before !! did i do something good yesterday?? " it. was Two gifts but whatever

he goes about his day as usual, maybe during a meeting there was one too many curious eyes on him and maybe a compliment or praise or two is given out to him but its fiiiine. thats probably nothiing though, batman tells him to come back to the watchtower tonight at 9pm minimum with some bum ass excuse of " the team needs to discuss some things. " and that he needs to come. :///

well. he does come back to the watchtower after patrolling fawcett city for a while and eating lunch/linner/brunch/dinner (he doesn't care enough to know its actual name. as long as hes fed) with tawny and hanging out with freddy

(his town didn't show anything was off.. because they KNEW it wasn't his birthday today. so it was just a normal day for them LOL)

anyways. weirdly enough, there was not a single person in the watchtower!! and the lights were all off .. and then!!! when he enters the meeting room!! BOOM!!! party poppers go off and the lights turn on and the justice league is there like ; " happy birth-first-joining-into-the-justice-league-day!!! " with the birthday banner made with the word birthday messily crossed out (thank you barry) and replaced with words underneath that i dont think captain marvel could see unless he squinted

and they stand there awkwardly as billy processes ts

because. yeah it clicks.

he realizes.

and starts tearing UPPPP . the only birthday parties he usually had was with his close friends. AND IT WASN'T ANYTHING THIS BIG!! OR FANCY!!! (batman thought it was rather lacking actually) HE DOESN'T CARE IF THEY GOT THE DATE WRONG THATS FINE HE'S JUST GLAD THEYRE CELEBRATING!!! HOLY MOLY WERE THOSE PRESENTS TOO-???

every single member that was participating in this got a big ass bear hug from captain marvel btw

[lovesickgrlsrh0t]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Day Four , Degradation ⭑.ᐟ

༉‧₊˚🕯KINKTOBER '24 ❀༉‧₊˚.

CONTENTS INCLUDE : SMUTT, semipublic!sex (they're doing it in a bathroom in a crowded party), oral (male!receiving), overstimulation, squirting, degradation (name calling, being mean, etc, etc), toxic!rafe (so normal rafe), slightlytoxic!reader, bratty!reader, afab!reader, cheating (?), jj gets brought into this 😭 (reader's soooo messy), mentions of violence and drugs, kook!reader, creampie, doggystyle.

NOTES : ...i've successfully succumbed to the drew starkey agenda. this is not really following the timeline of the show; the way i wrote it can fit probably season 2 rafe the best ig. also, this long asf (and super nasty...u've been warned ;)) lmaooo. hope u enjoy xx

Rafe was seeing red.

In addition to Sarah and those fucking Pouges being hellbent on ruining his fucking life, he hadn't seen his favorite girl all week. So when Topper mentioned that'd you'd be at a party Barry was throwing, he hoped into his truck without a second thought. Sure, maybe you and Rafe hadn't left things on the best of terms ("I know you're fuckin' cheating on me, Rafe. Don't think you can just play me like a fool." "Y'er fucking delusional, okay?! Don't act like you don't have your legs spread for any guy who looks in your direction."), but that was all in the past. Rafe knew you'd come crawling back to him anyway.

But it seemed that he didn't count on you having a trick up your sleeve.

You set your plan into motion the moment one of your friends informed you of Rafe's arrival. You checked your lip gloss one last time in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor blending with the sound of people.

You waved to your family's associates, caught up with a few of your girlfriends, all while keeping an eye out for him.

You knew he was staring; most people were. It almost seemed a bit cruel to torture him when you wearing his favorite dress, with your face all done up just the way he liked it, but it was fair considering the way he talked to you only a week prior. You surveyed the room one more time, a smirk settling on your glossy lips once you spotted him.

Perfect.

You almost felt sort of bad for JJ—he was nice enough, albeit way too trusting—and for the way Rafe would most definitely rock his shit for dancing with you. But still, it did feel good, knowing you got a reaction out of him just from batting your lashes at someone that wasn't him.

You fed into JJ's touch, grinding your hips all up on him, whispering lewd things into his ear as his raging hard on pressed into the curve of your ass. You were so in to your little performance that you didn't even realize Rafe had come towards you two, gripping your arm tightly as he held you behind. "What the fuck you doin' with my girl, Maybank?"

"Your girl came up to me, you entitled prick. She's sick of your controlling ass." Rafe pushed him, sending JJ stumbling backward into a crowd of drunk people. "Fuck you just say t'me?" You felt a twinge of guilt; you didn't mean for all this to happen. "Rafe, leave him alone."

Rafe glared, his blue eyes hardened and cold as they seemed to look right through you. "Shut the fuck up, I don't need some advice from your self righteous ass." You felt your face grow hot with anger. "Who the fuck do you think your talkin to?" Rafe took a step closer to you, his purely masculine scent filling your nostrils. "I'm talking to you, aren't I? Such a fuckin' brat." He muttered under his breath, holding your chin to force your gaze upon him. It was almost embarrassing the way you clenched your thighs together. Rafe took notice of this and while chuckling to himself, he tossed you over his shoulder and off to a bathroom.

The sound of Rafe's raspy groans and the sound of his thick dick hitting the back of your throat filled the enclosed space. His hand pushed you farther down his member, and he felt himself smirk at the sound of your gags.

"Aww, what's the matter huh? Too much f'ya?" He cooed mockingly, pulling you away from his cock to look at your ruined face. Drool fell from your lips, your eyes were teary and mascara stained. You looked positively wrecked. You whined, lips curved into a pout. "Rafey....I told you I was sorry.."

"Doesn't look like you were fuckin' sorry. Rubbing all up on whoever gives a crumb of fuckin' attention." He spat angrily, before cutting off your protests by shoving his dick back in your mouth. Rafe looked down and smirked, seeing your hand disappear in between your thighs. "Fucking gettin off on this shit too, kinky little slut-" He grits out, letting out a groan as you moan around him.

Rafe abruptly pulls you back up, slapping your ass as he pulls you up on the counter. "So sick of this fucking attitude...all you do is fucking complain..." He mutters to himself, before shoving him all the way inside you with no warning. His large hand covers your mouth, muffling your loud moans. "Haven't fucked you enough if you're still keeping up the bratty act, huh?" You try—stupidly—to get away from Rafe, which only allows him to thrust even deeper into you.

"Don't run from this dick, baby. Wanna mouth off all the time, act all big and strong, huh? Stay still and take every. fucking. inch." Rafe whispers in your ear, his words emphasized by each of his harsh thrusts. He glances at you through the mirror, relishing in the sight of you fucked out, crying out for him. His hand travels in between your thighs, rubbing your throbbing clit while you whine. "I know, I know. Want to cum, hmm?" Rafe cooed at you, tilting his head mockingly as you rapidly nod. "Go ahead then, soak this cock."

He keeps fucking you through your earth-shattering release, practically doubling his pace as your thighs shook. "R-Rafe, t-too much! T-tooo much!" Your words were slurred as your mind turned foggy at his repeated thrusts which hit that perfect spot inside you. You were sure everyone outside could hear what you two were doing, but you were too far gone to even care.

"FFFFuck, baby, pussy's squeezing me so well, holy shit-" Rafe groans in your ear, slapping your ass as sprays of liquid squirted out of your cunt. "Gonna cum..." You moaned as he reached in between your legs to rub at your aching clit. Your hands gripped the counter for dear life. "Give me one more, sweet girl, c'mon. One more with me, aight?" He whispered, slotting his lips over yours as he chased both of your releases; letting out a deliciously low moan as he released spurts of his cum into your pulsing cunt. It wasn't long after that yours followed soon after.

Rafe pulled out of you slowly, biting his lips as he watched his release drip out of you. "Get cleaned up, I'll be waiting in the car." And with that, he was gone, off to wherever he wanted to go next.

a/n: i feel like this sucks lmaooo 😭 anyway, thx for reading!!

[springtyme]

If you’re still looking for Steve requests, would you be willing to write Steve who’s sick asf but later has a date planned with R but when she sees him she obvs takes him home and takes care of him

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: Your first date with Steve doesn’t end up going exactly as he had planned.

word count: 2k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐) 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲

“You look like shit,” Robin says deadpanned, her arms crossed as she leans against the counter, her expression half-teasing, half-concerned. 

“Gee, thanks, Rob,”Steve replies, trying to sound normal, but failing miserably as fatigue and hoarseness clings to his voice like a thick fog. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. The fluorescent lights in Family Video seem excessively bright today, and every time a customer opens the door, the sound of the bell makes his head throb and the rush of fresh air makes him shiver.

He had woken up feeling like a truck had run him over, his throat scratchy, head pounding, and every bone in his body aching. Had he woken up feeling like this on any other day, he would have called in sick; but if he did that, it would mean actually admitting that he was sick, and then he would have to call you and cancel your date later, which was absolutely out of the question. 

He had worked out the nerve to ask you out for so long that the idea of backing out now makes his stomach twist with anxiety. He doesn’t understand how he did it so easily in high school. Back then, talking to girls felt like second nature to him, but then he grew up, became less of an asshole and the glitz and glamour of ‘King Steve’ and teenage confidence faded into something far more complicated.

It also dosen’t help the one person he’s been crushing on for ages. Your laughter dances in his memory, a melody that both soothes and torments him. You’re smart, kind, and effortlessly cool; the kind of person who lights up a room without even trying.

Robin raises an eyebrow, the look on her face tells Steve that she isn’t convinced. “Seriously, Harrington, you should just call it a day and go home.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, despite the fact that his body is screaming at him to go home and curl up under a mountain of blankets. 

· · · · ·   

You stand in front of the mirror in the staff bathroom of the café, smoothing down the fabric of your outfit as you check your makeup one last time. Your shift ended a little while ago, but Steve is supposed to come by and pick you up soon after his own shift at Family Video. The anticipation of seeing him makes your heart flutter.

You’ve been replaying the moment Steve asked you out in your head—his slight stammer, the way he ran his fingers through his hair, clearly anxious yet hopeful. It was cute. You could still picture the way his eyes lit up when you said yes, how the corner of his mouth twitched into that adorable smile of his, bright and boyish. 

As you stand there putting on a layer of lip gloss, a soft knock on the door breaks you from your reverie. “Hey, I think your date is here!” Lin, your co-worker, call out, her voice laced with light-hearted mischief. You can hear the smile in her tone.

“Thanks, I’ll be right out!” you reply, capping the tube of gloss and throwing it into your purse, taking a final glance in the mirror before you step out of the bathroom.

As you walk into the main café area, your eyes immediately land on Steve. He’s leaning against the counter, one hand fiddling with his keys, his other holding a bouquet of pink lilies that stands out against the muted tones of the café. The sight makes you smile to yourself.

You navigate through the café, a calm kind of excitement bubbling in your stomach. He catches your eye just as you reach him, but as you get closer, your smile falters slightly. You can’t help but notice the slight paleness of his complexion and how the usual brightness of his honey brown eyes is dulled.

“Hey,” you say, trying to mask your concern with a playful tone as you glimpse the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers, almost sheepish as he offers you the bouquet, “yeah, they are for you.”

You take the flowers, inhaling their sweet fragrance, and your heart swells. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

His smile is earnest, but you catch the hint of a wince as he shifts on his feet.

“Of course,” he replies, a little too quickly, and you immediately pick up on the way his voice cracks slightly.

You take a closer look at him, worry settling in your chest like a weight. “Steve, are you okay?”

He chuckles softly, attempting to brush it off. “Yeah… yeah, I’m great.”

You raise an eyebrow, not feeling fully convinced, but you smile as he leads you out of the café and into the mild autumn air. The moment you step outside, the sunset casts a warm golden light, painting the world in hues of orange and pink. But despite the beauty around you, your attention stays focused on him.

As you walk side by side towards his car, a comfortable silence falls between you, but it’s punctured by Steve’s occasional cough, each one making your heart sink a little more. 

“Steve,” you say gently, your voice dropping to a soft, yet serious tone. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He force a chuckle, his voice raspy and strained. “Yeah… I’m just a little under the weather. It’s nothing, really.” 

You don’t buy it for a second. You know him well enough to see the way his usually bright eyes are glazed over with fatigue. The way he keeps shivering, despite the mild autumn air. You can see the pale cast to his skin and the way his hand shakes as he reaches for the passenger door to let you into his car.  

“Steve, you’re sick,” you state, your tone firm, your hand reaching out to touch his forehead which is warm to the touch. 

He glances away, and you notice how he rubs a hand over his tired eyes as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion. “I didn’t want to cancel on you. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

Your heart flutters, but it’s quickly replaced by a surge of protectiveness. You take a step closer, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Steve, I appreciate that, but I really think you need rest.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can say anything, you interject, “How about this: I take you home, and we can have a cozy night in instead? I can whip up some soup or something.”

The suggestion hangs in the air. You can see the internal struggle on his face—whether he should stick to the plan he’d anticipated or succumb to the reality of how he truly feels. Finally, he nods. “That does sound nice. But can I still take you out on a real date when I’m feeling better?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in his eyes reminds you how much he values your time together.

“Definitely,” you reply, your own smile returning. “Now come on, let’s get you home.” You put out your hand, gesturing for him to hand over his car keys. He hesitates for a moment, looking between you and the keys in his palm, but the warmth in your eyes encourages him. With a resigned sigh, he hands them over.

You slide into the driver’s seat, glancing over at him once you’re both settled in, and your heart squeezes at the sight. He’s leaning back against the headrest, eyelids drooping slightly as he battles against another wave of exhaustion.

“Want me to turn on some music?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood as you pull out of the parking lot.

“Sure, but maybe something a bit soft,” he replies, his voice still strained, though he offers you a small smile. You nod and switch on the radio, letting the soothing melodies fill the car as you drive through the quiet town.

Occasionally, you look over and check on him from the corner of your eye. He’s still pale, and you can see how he shivers slightly in his  seat. Guilt twists in your stomach at the thought that he’d pushed himself just to spend time with you.

The short drive feels like it takes ages, but you finally pull up in front of his house. Steve glances over at you, a hint of reluctance in his gaze. “You don’t...you really don’t have to do this, you know. I can just—”

“Steve, it’s happening. You’re not winning this argument today,” you cut him off playfully, adding a grin to soften your words. He chuckles weakly, appreciating the stubbornness in your tone.

After a second, he nods and climbs out of the car, the effort seeming to cost him. You rush around to help him, looping his arm around your shoulder for support as you lead him inside. Once inside, you help him settle onto the couch, fluffing a few pillows behind his back so he can lean comfortably. “You just sit tight,” you order gently. “I’ll get started on that soup.”

You head to the kitchen, happy to find enough ingredients for a simple chicken noodle. As you chop vegetables and toss everything into the pot, you can’t help but glance back toward the living room now and then.

After a while, the delicious aroma of simmering soup fills the air, a comforting weight that envelops the space. You serve it up in two bowls, bringing them back to the living room.

“Dinner is served,” you announce, adopting a playful tone as you hand him a bowl, the steam swirling up from the broth.

He takes it gratefully, voicing his gratitude before he takes a spoonful of the soup, the tension in his shoulders seems to ease just a bit. You take a seat next to him, and the two of you settle into a comfortable quiet, the sound of spoons clinking against the ceramic filling the space between you.

“See? Not such a bad idea, right?” you say, giving him a gentle smile as his eyes lock with yours. 

“Not at all,” he replies, his mouth curling into a genuine smile that somehow seems to illuminate the weariness in his eyes. “You might just be my new favorite person.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart flutters nonetheless. “Just wait until I force you to watch a rom-com later.”

“Who doesn’t love a rom-com?” he laughs, but it’s cut short by a rough cough that rattles through him. You frown, reaching over to gently place your hand on his forehead again, your palm feeling the rise and fall of his fever.

“You still need to rest,” you remind him softly, and he nods, a hint of vulnerability crossing his features. He takes another sip of soup, his movements slower, as if savoring not just the meal, but the warmth radiating from your presence.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he murmurs, looking at you with a depth of gratitude that sends your heart racing. “I really didn’t want to let you down.”

“Steve, you could never let me down,” you say earnestly. 

The sincerity in your voice hangs in the air between you, a thread of understanding weaving deeper into the fabric of your relationship. He finishes his soup, and as the bowls lay empty on the coffee table, he leans back a little more against the couch, closing his eyes.

You grab a blanket that is hanging over the armrest of the couch and drape it over the two of you, feeling the warmth radiating from his body touch yours. “I’ll stay here with you,” you whisper, brushing back a strand of hair from his forehead.

“Thank you,” he says with a contented sigh, he nestles in further, his hand finding yours on the couch. And as you sit together, the simplicity of sharing warmth, soup, and presence erases the worry as evening turns into night, the world outside fading away.

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and psycho. This part- light angst, explicit sex, oral ( f receiving) breed kink (it's me so lol) mating press, multi rounds, honestly cute, sweet and fucking emotional!!! WC - 10k

A/N- THE HAPPY END IS HERE! Sooo the beginning 4k words or so are VERY similar to the angst end, but don't skip them because I put a lot of little nuances and deviations! I hope you enjoy the happy ending and the complete end of this fic <3 I'd love to hear thoughts!!

<<<Part five (Sad end) - Playlist - Masterlist

Happy Ending (Sugu/Reader end!)

Suguru lifts you up into his arms, as tired students and sorcerers retreat tentatively, Suguru’s curses dissolve as if they weren’t there while all he can focus on is you, the guilt eating at his heart. Your unconscious body lolls in his arms as Suguru is speaking to his cult quickly, ordering them to stop and retreat for now, all while holding you so tightly against his chest.

Satoru waits for Suguru, staring at your face now, looking so oddly peaceful for what happened, he wanted to pick you up and bring you to Shoko, but Suguru had snatched you up so quickly he had no chance to. Suguru is carrying you around and murmuring his soft orders, not letting you leave his grip.

Satoru had a feeling this would happen, and he hates himself for knowing it and bringing you anyway, but you were okay with it - willing even - to save everyone, he admires it about a girl he hardly knows. To put yourself and a baby in danger to reach out to Suguru, it shows just who you are, it’s easy to see how much Suguru has fallen, when Satoru never thought Suguru never would feel that way again.

Suguru finally walks up, glaring at Satoru when he brushes back a lock of hair from your brow, itching to smack his hand off. “Don’t touch my wife.” Suguru’s words are husky, through his teeth, as Satoru’s blue eyes dart back to his, raising a white brow.

“You’ve really done such a great job taking care of her so far. Why don’t I carry her, I don’t trust you not to disappear, and Shoko is the only one I trust helping her.”

“Tch, you think I don’t even want to help her!?”

“Why? You left her.” Suguru snatches you up closer against his chest, violet eyes glaring now at Satoru, and you hang so limply he feels sick, like you’re just nothing in his arms, barely any signs of life aside from soft breaths.

“You won’t hold my wife in your fucking arms.” 

“Fine, then follow, now.”

Suguru never thought he’d listen to Satoru, but he does, following him now into Shoko’s medical set up, her brows raise as she sees Suguru for the first time in almost nine years, he notices how exhausted she is, all of the fun energy he remembers sapped away. He falters a moment, before carrying you inside, Satoru shuts the heavy door with an echoing bang.

“What’s happened?” Suguru delicately lays your unconscious frame, as Shoko sets to feeling your pulse.

“Energy blast from… one of my men.” Suguru gulps down it all, the fact that it’s even worse, that you were hurt by one of his by mistake.

He wants to kill that man right now.

But Satoru is fucking right - it’s all him.

“She’s pregnant.” Satoru mentions, as if it were so casual, and Suguru glares over at him. “Isn’t she?”

“Yes she is but it’s not your place to fucking say.” Satoru smiles just a bit, something about seeing his friend actually fucking caring about something for once, even if his ire is directed at him right now. Suguru looks at Shoko now, swallowing nervously as he speaks. “She is pregnant.”

Shoko sighs now, nodding and assessing you carefully. “Can’t be far along, she’s not showing.”

“Five weeks.” Suguru answers, quietly, as Shoko raises her hands now, and shuts her eyes, dark hair falling a bit over her shoulders.

“I can’t guarantee the baby will be okay, but I can save her.” Suguru’s heart shatters at her words, looking as the reverse curse technique starts working over you with the incandescent light.

“It’s all your fault. Why’d you fucking bring her here!?” Suguru walks up to Satoru now, smacking a hand as he brushes your hair a bit off your sleeping face, earning a glare behind white bandages.

“She asked to come.”

Suguru pauses. Are you that reckless?

“I told her no at first, but I thought she’d be the only thing to bring you to any of your fucking senses, have you stop killing my students, our friends.”

“I don’t have any fucking friends.”

Shoko scoffs, eyeing him with tired eyes now. “You did.”

“It’s not you all I wanted to eliminate, you simply chose to defend them, the weak,  pathetic…” He can’t say it anymore, what he called them, what he called you.

“Weren’t you the one who said it’s our job to protect the weak?” Satoru’s voice is quiet now, reminding him of just that, the time he felt that way, naive and young.

“You continue to lose all your comrades and friends, Satoru you may be the strongest but it’s not worth it - without them, there are no more curses.”

“It’s not your choice to change how the world is. You’ve gone so far, the only person I’ve ever seen you love since you… changed… is here.” Satoru’s words nearly make him fall over with the pain, the grief, looking at your still unconscious body, as Shoko focuses harder with her technique, the glow soft around you, hovering right over your tummy where a baby exists.

“Please just save her.” Suguru whispers now, and Satoru slips off his blindfold completely, blue eyes seeing right through him.

“You did this. If she doesn’t make it, it’s because of you.”

“I fucking know that!” Suguru shoves Satoru now, which merely earns a tired, sad little smile, while he grips his wrist before he lets Suguru strike him. “I know it, okay? I don’t even… fucking deserve her. I know it.” He’s close to tears as he shoves off Satoru, covering his face before he looks back at you.

It’s gone too far, god it’s all gone too far, hasn’t it?

How can he live with himself after what he’s done to you. He places a hand on yours, you don’t grip it how could you, limp and weak fingers, exhausted face growing just a little brighter. You’re exhausted from him, from the stress - god he left you in his bed, alone, naked and gleaming from your lovemaking.

Lovemaking, it was lovemaking.

You were his everything, and not once did he let you get treated or shown that way, what was just one time of worshipping your body when he didn’t worship or appreciate your soul? Your mind, your wishes, he barely knew you truly - he never gave you a chance to listen. Why couldn’t he just give you a chance, why couldn’t he be there for you!?

He hates himself.

He was going to kill them all, every single human for a better world, but to lose the only important thing to him, you, in a room with two people who loved him once, who cared for him once, and he never deserved any of it. Of your body, of your heart, didn’t deserve any kindness that you - rarely - bestowed upon him, your sweet pleas nor your desperate cries for more of him.

Now that he sees you, and it’s been a good twenty minutes, he’s pacing, his stomach sick and turning, his mind a tumultuous storm of moments where it all changed. Of moments where everything shifted, the life and family he thought he built all lost to a girl, who slapped him, who cursed him, who overtook his heart.

You.

“It’s not working.” He says after more time passes with no sign of anything from you in the quiet room, worried as Shoko sighs, shaking her head.

“I need more time with her, okay? Her body is already in a rough state.”

“What rough state!?”

“She has a weak will, and she needs to have some will to make it through this.” Suguru can’t stand to look then, turning away, his robes still dripping the blood of others, as the woman he loves is unconscious.

A weak will, because of him, he fucking knows it too- it’s all him that did this, that caused it, he wants to blame Satoru for putting you in danger, but it’s ultimately his fault. You begged him to stay despite having been forced into this, despite the horrible things he said and did to you, despite it all you still asked him. You still tried to break through, almost meeting your end.

You awaken suddenly as he contemplates it, with a startled gasp, sitting up, staring at an unfamiliar but pretty face of a woman in scrubs, a stethoscope around her neck. She smiles gently, you feel two men’s hands on you, Satoru’s holding one hand, Suguru the other, both staring up at you now.

“I’m sorry I put you in harm.” Satoru’s words are full of remorse, one of his blue eyes revealed is staring up at you, glimmering. “It was the only way but…”

“It’s okay. I chose to, it was the right thing.” He exhales in relief, as you look at Suguru now, torn between anger, relief and fear… and more, so much more brimming to the surface. “Suguru…”

“I ended the battle.” It’s all relief now, as you clutch him tightly, and all the love in your eyes makes him even more sick, how could you love him?

“It worked.” Your whisper makes him squeeze you so tightly you can’t breathe, before pulling back, glaring down at you.

“It was foolish, reckless-”

“You are not about to lecture her right now on being reckless.” Suguru scowls at Satoru’s words.

“Let’s talk while Shoko checks her out.” Suguru’s words are surprisingly soft, a way you’ve only heard a couple times, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Suguru…”

“Just a minute.” You nod, but something is tugging at your heart.

Satoru and Suguru walk to the other end of the enormous room, footsteps echoing while Shoko murmurs softly. “I’m Ieri.”

“Thank you for… saving me, Ieri.” Your own quiet name makes her smile a bit, as she looks at Satoru and Suguru. “They were your friends, weren’t they?”

“Hmm, I guess they were. Let me check this heart rate, okay?” You nod, eyeing the two quiet men, as your disoriented mind and sore body process what exactly had happened.

“I know you owe me no favors, Satoru… but can I ask for one?” Satoru frowns now, leaning against the wall, as you sit up with Shoko’s help and speak quietly.

“You stopped the attack, if you’re willing to give this up, I’ll do you any favor.” He says, making Suguru sigh.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve Satoru.

He deserves no happiness for what he’s done, the horror in your eyes, the fear of the unknown, the baby just barely growing that surely would not survive with him near you. You look at him across the room, with those sad, broken eyes - he’d never made you happy, not once - yet you truly tried. You begged him to fucking stay and what did he do, what did he cause?

“I am taking Mimiko and Nanako far away.” Satoru’s blue eyes widen now.

“And your wife, yes?

Suguru feels sick as he shakes his head. “No.”

“Suguru, are you fucking serious, what more does the girl have to do to be with you!? She almost died to save you, not just everyone.” Satoru’s voice is a hushed whisper, eyes narrowed.

“That’s just it, I’m no good for her, or the baby if it… makes it. Chances are with me and how devastated I make her, it won't.”

“Suguru, she will forgive you.” Satoru puts a hand on his former best friend’s shoulder, coated in blood, and Suguru doesn’t shove it off, he takes a breath instead, shaking his head.

“She will, and so will you, but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her and I never did.”

“So become the man she needs, you’re not too-”

Suguru laughs harshly, taking Satoru’s hand off now, holding it for a moment, a million memories of their friendship falling as his hand falls. “Both of you make excuses, but I see what I did to her.”

“She’ll be okay, Shoko-”

“She’ll never be okay. Satoru, I have to ask you…” Satoru shakes his head again, and eyes you now.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking run, seriously!?” Suguru yanks him out of the room, out of your earshot now, Satoru crosses his arms, as the door echoes in the cold empty halls of the abandoned building they’d shielded Shoko in.

“Take care of her.” At Suguru’s broken words, tears feeling once cold eyes, Satoru falters, lips parting. “Take care of the baby if it… makes it.”

He glares, shoving at his old friend, who’s too down to not let him budge with the movement, forlorn look on his face. “You take care of them, become better.”

Suguru shakes his head. “I can’t face her. I can’t face what I’ve done, I need to go. Far, far away.”

“For how long!?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I know it’s a lot to ask - but I also know I can trust you to take care of her.” Satoru’s furious, not at the thought of taking care of you, but the fact that Suguru is running, that he still even now can’t accept love. “You will take care of her better than I could.”

“You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. She chose to come here, can’t you give her a chance?” Suguru peers through the door window, the thick pane of glass, sighing and touching it longingly, while Shoko checks your vitals. “Your family is in that fucking room.”

“I know, fuck… but she has a chance to be happy, to have that baby - the way it’s going? She won’t even get to with me. Please, for the friendship we had, take care of her. The girl I love.” Satoru’s own emotions make his throat close, while Suguru realizes just how deeply he loves you, more than he even could admit. But he didn’t choose you, no matter how deeply you begged him to, no he left you alone in that bed.

He can’t forgive himself for it.

He is not sure he cares about any other casualties, he wishes he did care more for that - he still sees humans as pests, he does not share Satoru’s view and maybe never will. But you so clearly need him to, and he realizes he’s too far in his own hatred still, you were that exception, that bright spot. You were the one regret he now holds, and he knows he loves you enough to let you go.

“Please look after her for me, Satoru.”

“Jesus christ, Suguru.” He swipes a hand through his long white hair, looking at you in that room, sighing. “Of course I will take care of her and the baby. But it should not be me.”

“Thank you.” Suguru puts his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, and for a moment Satoru sees him - the best friend he ever had, making what he thinks is the best decision for a girl he loves. He loves and feels, still deep down, and something breaks Satoru down then. “I went too far.”

He scoffs at that, sighing. “Understatement of the century. I will not tell her goodbye for you, though. You need to at least explain your stupid decision.”

Satoru walks back into the room, looking down at you now, you’re weak but alive, and he still senses two energies with his powerful six eyes. He gently holds out his hands, and you take them, using his help to stand, shaky now. “Are you feeling okay, sweets?”

“I’m okay.” You nod a smile just a bit, turning to Shoko. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. We’ll… give you two a moment.” She reads the room clearly, Satoru and Shoko have known each other so long it really just takes a look.

You watch curiously as they walk out, and Suguru has tears in his violet eyes, something you never thought you’d see, they glimmer and illuminate, his face so serious and sullen it makes you panic. “Did they say the baby-”

“No, no, for now it all looks fine. Shh.” He pulls you against his strong chest, and you fall apart, sobbing now, shaking your head and shoving at him, hating the mix of comfort and sorrow this man brings. “I know,” he whispers, as if to soothe you, only for you to be infuriated, feeling anger hot coursing through your veins.

You pull back, furious, chest heaving with the quickness of your breaths, your own cheeks covered in your tears now. “You know!? You know? You left me. You chose this over me.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m no good for you.” His broken voice and tired gaze stall you, not after all of this would he not fucking choose you again!? Not after carving his place in your heart entirely does he get to leave!?

You pause now, gasping at his audacity, feeling him tense, emotionally pulling away from you again. “What the fuck are you on about right now?”

Instead of the usual arguments, the back and forth, Suguru is just contemplative, listening to you before he speaks. “It was selfish, so selfish not to let you run when you wanted to.” You’re shaking as he cups your face, thumb tracing your cheek, brushing aside the onslaught of tears, exhaling and leaning low.

“So you’re selfish, what’s new?” Your angry whisper just makes him ache for you, god is there one moment he doesn’t? Is there one second in any universe he thinks he will live without you - he wants to do the right thing now, to let you go, but how can he, when you’re so deeply ingrained inside his fucking soul?

The one bright spot that he almost took out completely clings to him, and why should you?

 “I almost killed you.” He whispers hoarsely, you shake your head now, scowl firm on your tired, beautiful features.

“You didn’t just almost kill me, you almost killed everyone in the fucking city! Suguru, I’m fine, this is not even what you should be worried about.”

“Tch, are you!?” His grip on your waist draws you closer, while your head falls back, and you stare into a monster’s eyes - a monster you love. “Are you fine? You almost died.”

“I chose to come here, you can’t blame Satoru when I begged him to bring me. I had to try to save them, those innocent people!”

“It worked.”

You sigh, shaking further, burying your face against his chest, he’s covered in sweat and grime and blood from the battle, but you don’t care. “Are you done with this foolish effort?”

“I’m done.” You look up in shock, cupping his face now, and he leans so low, until your breaths mingle, hand shaking as it holds you.

“Thank God. Oh Suguru, thank God.” You pull him down for a kiss, full of all the relief in your heart. You’ve saved him, everyone is okay - glimpses of hope and something beautiful fill you with a light you’ve never had. He kisses you back so deeply, exhaling against your lips, deepening it and pulling you so tightly, his hard body enveloping yours.

“I should have told you.” He whispers, pulling back, lips almost against yours, nose brushing against yours.

You gulp, throat dry, in so much fear of what he’s going to say, what he’s going to do, his voice terrifying you in its intensity. “Told me what?”

Suguru cups your face with one hand, heart pounding as he feels it, so deep in his soul, finally ready to spill those words. “I love you,” you gasp then, and his heart hammers nearly out of his chest as the declaration spills from his lips. “Fuck I love you, love when you hit me, love when you called me out, love the fire inside you.”

His declaration makes your heart shatter, you want to be happy, but you feel it - his apprehension, his fear, his love.

Loves you.

He loves you.

“Suguru…”

“I love you and don't deserve you.” His broken voice and tears infuriate you as much as they deeply touch you.

You glare now, trying to hold it together, when you feel like shattering. “Don’t you dare do this, don’t you run!”

“Baby, this is how I can show how much I love you.” He cups your face with two big hands and long fingers, you’re glaring through your tears, gripping his wrists.

“Don’t you dare.” You whisper, teeth clenched, you feel it then, you feel him pushing you away, when he’s just close enough. “I won’t forgive you ever.”

“Satoru will take care of you both, better than I could, he’ll be good to you-” The shock of his words hits you like a wave, like what knocked you to the fucking floor earlier, the dread in your stomach.

“What!? You’re shoving me off on your fucking friend?” You shove at his chest now, but he doesn’t budge, even as you smack at it, he doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of his grip. “If you love me you’ll run away with me, we can start over.”

The desperation in your voice tempts him to no end, god he’d love it, but he knows how much you’d suffer, always. “I am leaving, starting over.”

“Not with me?” Your hurt pours through every word, and Suguru wants to bring you, god he does, but he knows it so clearly - he could never make you happy, but he sees it - how Satoru looks at you. Maybe he could give you what you deserve, as much as he selfishly wants you, as badly as this hurts to do or say.

“You’ll be better off this way. You and the baby.”

“Bullshit, it’s such bullshit Suguru!”

“It’s the truth, I love you enough to finally do this.” He brushes your hair back tenderly, you smack his hand scowling up at him.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to abandon me after not choosing me - just to not choose me again!”

“It’s not that,” your sobs wrack your body, as he steps back, brushing back his tangled dark locks in frustration, the thick strands falling across his face as he watches the girl he loves shatter because of him, all over again. “I am choosing your happiness.”

“Why can’t it be with you?” Your broken whisper makes his heart break.

“How can I look you in those beautiful eyes and know what pain I caused, I can’t have you looking at the monster I am.”

“You’re my fucking monster, okay? Mine!” You shove him again, he just sighs, defeated. “I love you Suguru Geto. I do, despite it all, despite how completely fucked in the brain you were, I love you dammit. You can’t just leave me now, like I’m some damn pet you can’t take care of. I love-”

He’s slammed his lips again, desperate and hungry, and you fall into him, as his kisses grow more and more ardent, pulling back just to take a breath, hand slipping up your spine. The contact alone makes you shiver, tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, so much emotion in this one kiss you wish it would last forever, fingers clinging to the silk of his robes.

“Suguru,” you pull back, tears falling against his fingers, breaths making your chest rise and fall, as you cling to his robes, the blood soaking against your skin, enveloping it in red. “You’re mine, you don’t get to leave me.”

He whispers your name then, his own tears falling, against your lips salty as he hovers over you, exhaling shakily. “I don’t deserve you though, you or this baby, not after what I did to you.”

“Then you’ll earn it, you’ll earn the right of me standing by your side. You’ll become better, I know it, fuck I do. There’s more to you.” Your foreheads touch, while he finally breaks down then, picking you up in his arms now, your lips are angry, hungry, tugging with your teeth as he nips you with his. Your tongues messy and desperate while you drink each others’ cries in, echoing in the quiet room.

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t…” His whispers break you, a broken man declaring them hot against your throat, as he breaks down for you, and you bury your face against his neck, letting him hold you up like it’s nothing, clinging to him then. Feeling every bit of your soul drawn to him, despite it all.

“I need you goddammit, you don’t get to leave me. Us. I’ll beat the fuck out of you if you try, it’s not even funny you psycho.” He exhales, easing you down then, you’re dizzy with desire, with need, thrumming through every inch of your skin, as he leans back, eyeing you under lashes dripping with tears.

“How can you love somebody like me?” His broken whisper destroys any resolve you have left, you know all he has done to you, you can only imagine what he has done to others, but deep down you know one thing to be true-

You do love him.

“I just do, there’s no reason for it, there’s no reason for any human emotion, Suguru Geto. We just feel.” Your tremulous smile, amidst everything he’s done breaks him down, bit by bit, as his heart pounds for you, as his body aches for you, thoughts of ‘what ifs’ flowing through his mind.

What if he did let Satoru care for you?

What if he just left you now?

What if you fell in love, what if you moved on, and were so happy, and got everything he ‘thinks’ you deserved, leaving him alone forever - because he knows damn well he will never want or be with anyone else ever again. What if he had let you go, and had not gotten to see you again, hold you again, kiss your lips? Have you under him, on him, have you?

He almost just did that, one choice and he was going to push you away, when all you wanted was to be let in. He takes a deep breath, an arm wrapped tight around you, bringing you firm against his chest. “I don’t know if I can learn to live with humans, aside from you. I don’t know if I can lose all this hatred.”

“Then we’ll go, we’ll go away. And we’ll try, every day. Okay?” He nods then, you exhale and kiss him once more, the kiss is so different than any before, deeper than either of you have had, while he drinks it in, the girl he doesn’t deserve, the life he’s not sure he should get to have, because you love him.

Does he deserve that love, finally?

“You deserve love.” Your words speak to the questions stirring in his soul, and for the first time in so long, Suguru is crying, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tries to pull it together, holding you in a bruising grip as he just cries then.

Suguru crying.

He has not felt emotions since long ago in Jujutsu high, when he watched his loved ones die, when he lost faith in everything he knew, something he thought died that day glimmers and breaks free. The girl in his arms that he treated horribly who for some odd reason loves him, then he knows - he can’t keep going like this, he has to give everything for you.

“I’ll try, Princess.” His soft tone breaks you down further, so upset in your wracking sobs he pulls back a bit, swiping them off your cheeks with one hand, the other bringing you against his chest. “Calm down, please… take a breath.”

“You really stress a girl the fuck out.” He chuckles a bit, earning a punch from your little balled up fist while you sniffle. “You don’t get to laugh about it.”

“I know, I know.” He brushes your hair back gently, studying a face of a girl that’s been hurt too much, too deeply, but the joy of hearing you say it all overwhelms his senses. He sighs again, tilting your chin up, studying your swollen lips carefully, a thumb brushing across the thin and bitten flesh. “You really want to be with me? I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want your ‘out’. I want you, the real you too, not this bullshit cult leader crap. I want the boy who Satoru has fought so hard to get back, I want the boy I met, he’s in there, okay?” He looks away then, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if he is in there.”

“He is, and you know it.”

He wants to believe you, but he finds he’s selfish for not leaving you in that moment, for instead picking you up gently in his arms, bridal style - remembering that first night with you. The first time he touched you, and he knew how deeply he felt, that he assumed you must have powers, but you did in fact have them, they were just different than anything he’d ever seen.

He speaks it then, softly. “You’re not just human.”

“Suguru you-”

“You’ve got a power.” You roll your eyes now, infuriated at the annoying man you chose to fall for.

Well you never chose to. You just did.

“You will not even act like you don’t love a human-”

“Power to bring me to my knees,” he continues, in a husky voice, and when he presses you more tightly to him, lips an inch from yours, the world fades, everything fades but this singular moment. “The power to make me give up anything, do anything for you. Kill anyone who hurts you, even if it’s myself.”

“Suguru-” He cuts you off again, kissing you as he cradles you so tightly, you feel his strength even as his body shakes with his emotions, with his regret, with his need.

“I’ll never hurt you again. I swear it. If I do, you get to twist that knife in my fucking chest.” You shake your head, but he just reiterates it, softly.

“I wouldn’t be able to.”

“You have all the power over me. You’re my everything.” You take the hand wrapped around you, placing it on your tummy, heating up as his violet gaze drifts down to it.

“We are your everything, Suguru. Of course, Mimiko and Nanako too. We can be… a family. If you’re willing.” He nods then, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead now. “Then let’s get them, and find… a home. A new home.”

He exhales against your skin, nodding as he carries you out, and Satoru Gojo is leaning against the wall, blindfold off for once, arms crossed casually when he smiles over at you. You tap Suguru’s shoulder and he glares at you. “You’re awfully friendly with him.”

“You’re acting jealous like you weren’t gonna pawn me off on him. Let me down.” You glare up at him and he sighs, easing you down, Satoru’s lips quirk up at the corners, easing off the wall and walking over to you now, tilting your chin up. His eyes bore into you, gleaming with his own emotions.

“Are you alright? You okay to walk?” He asks softly, you nod then, reaching over to wrap your arms around his waist. He falters for a moment, as you feel Suguru’s death glare, holding you back then, hand resting at the small of your back, warm over your silk kimono. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but cry against his chest, and Suguru looks away then, stepping back for a moment. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“No, it was shitty okay? I knew the risk and-”

“No. Thank you, Satoru.” You look up, and his heart hurts when he sees your tears, as his friend avoids even looking at the two of you. “It was the right thing to do, and don’t you dare feel bad.”

He sighs in relief, hugging you again, lips pressed against your ear as he bends down. “You brought my friend back, I should be thanking you.”

You cry more, body shaking and so small in the strong sorcerers hold, as Suguru clears his throat. “You all are a little too close.”

“I can still take care of her if-”

“No!? I mean, no.” Suguru rubs the back of his neck, frowning as he wants to rip his best friend’s arms off. “I was… being…”

“Stupid?” Satoru and you finish, and Suguru crosses his arms now, glaring at the two of you.

“It wouldn’t have been the right decision, especially how you’re pawing at her. Let her go.” Suguru yanks you away, and you can’t stop the laugh that escapes, a sound Suguru never really heard from you, breathless, your soft smile lighting up a tragically beautiful face, one he’s kept upset.

“You’re jealous?” You ask, and he scoffs, glaring, while Satoru does not remove his hand, smirking over at him.

“You two are just too close is all. Conspiring this whole time?”

“Maybe so.” You look back to Satoru, smiling again. “We’re going away for a while, but… we’ll be back one day. Won’t we, Suguru?” You hold out a hand now, and he nods stiffly, Satoru sees it then, the love he so clearly has right on his face for you, and the love you have for him, as your hands entwine.

“We will be.” He gruffly repeats, and the three of you stand there for a moment, each hand is held by the two men as they glance at each other, wondering if it’s still there - the deep friendship, and fuck you truly hope it is. Suguru didn’t just need you, he needed him too, and you hope one day your psycho husband can work on his very shitty communication and open up.

“We would’ve had fun together, sweets.” Gojo teases one more time, before Suguru has you yanked up against him, scowling deeper at Satoru, while you giggle, against Suguru’s hard chest, resting your head for a moment.

“You think it would’ve been fun, him pawning me off huh?” You tease back, and are landed right back in Suguru’s arms, while he and Satoru walk out side by side, and sleep starts to tug at your body, still drained from the hit.

“Of course we would have, you wouldn’t have even missed him.” Gojo winks and you giggle, and you’re pretty sure Suguru is about to lose his mind, walking out then to see the wreckage, it takes your breath for a moment, Suguru’s shoulders slump as he takes in the chaos and destruction.

“Hey, we’ll do better than this.” You say softly, caressing his face, a thumb brushing over a sharp cheekbone. He nods then, sighing and shutting his eyes, as if he can’t take it all in.

“Satoru, thank you for… helping save her.” Satoru blinks in surprise - a thank you is nothing he thought he’d get. “I guess we may cross paths again.”

“I guess we might.” Satoru smiles at you both a little sadly, as if he’d gotten his friend back and he’s going away again, but also it’s a peaceful look, for the moment things are safe for Satoru’s students and friends. For a moment there is peace in his heart as he looks at the two of you. “You’ll have a baby by then.”

“Yes we will.” Suguru murmurs, nodding to him a bit.

“Name it Satoru-”

“No.”

Satoru pouts then, shaking his head. “You know, so ungrateful. I’m out of here, bye sweets.” He winks at you again and throws two fingers up with a grin, disappearing without a trace. You giggle at it, and Suguru keeps glaring daggers.

“You like him far too much.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“We just connect because we both love an emo bitch.”

“An emo… when you’re better, I’m beating the fucking attitude out of you.” Your tummy flips, and you bury your face again in his neck.

“You can’t even do instant transmission like Gojo, huh?”

“Instant… that’s an anime!? I have a dragon, that’s much fucking cooler than Gojo’s shit, hmm?” You just smile against his neck, knowing then, this is him. This is Suguru Geto, the man you lived to see glimpses of. As he’s summoning these giant curses, his rainbow dragon, sitting you right on there and smiling, eyes crinkling and making you melt.

You gasp as you all take off - it’s as if you are some Princess, with a psycho cult leader who loves you, as he pulls you against him, head against his chest while he tenderly brushes your hair back. The exhaustion starts hitting, the fact that you almost lost him, lost everything that you suddenly realize is so important to you, while he inhales the scent of your hair and you fly up.

“Dragons are pretty cool.” You concede softly, earning his chuckle, lips tenderly brushing against your temple.

“I’m sorry I left you last night, I’m so sorry.” You look up sleepily, fuck you’re exhausted, trying to focus on him now.

“I forgive you, Suguru.”

“Should you?” His whisper is soft when you lay back against him again, arms wrapped around his waist.

“Probably not, but I do. I just… want you to never leave me. Promise, please.” You whisper against where his chest is bare, the wind gently rushing across your faces, while he holds you nestled in his arms.

“I promise, Princess. I will never leave you again.”

*****

One year later

You hold your sweet baby Noa against your chest as Suguru puts Mimiko and Nanako to bed, they’re giggling and kissing all over her as they always love to do, but Suguru gently chides them. “Girls, you know it’s well past bedtime.”

“We can help mom with Noa though!” Mimiko crosses her arms, and you smile at her, brushing her hair back.

“I appreciate all your help, but Noa is going to sleep too.” You peek at her precious face, she looks a lot like you but has Suguru’s silky black locks already, too much hair for a little baby to have. And her eyes have the darkest lashes, just like her father, who ruffles both of the girls’ hair now, chuckling.

“Boba tomorrow from your favorite place if you don’t argue.” His sing-song voice works.

“Fine dad.” They say simultaneously, and then the girls kiss you all before finally bouncing off to their rooms, leaving you and Suguru to head toward the nursery, his arm around your waist as your bare feet pad across the floor.

“You always bribe those girls, you know.” He chuckles once more, a sound that’s much more frequent these days, opening up the door for you now, the moonlight filtering through the blinds, illuminating the pretty room, all decorated in pretty pinks and purple by the girls before Noa came.

“I mean, are you arguing the efficiency of these tactics?” Suguru teases, having gone from war tactics to bribery for time alone with you was something quite new to him, but it fit well. Everything felt…

Perfect with you.

With the girls.

With his sweet baby girl, who is already fast asleep against your chest, her pretty face serene as you brush a thumb against a chubby cheek, smiling tenderly, the moon casting shadows across your beautiful face. It fills him with so much tenderness it’s hard to even explain, the way you fit so perfectly, knowing you were the missing piece, filling the void he let grow too long.

Your love for Noa was beautiful to see, of course Suguru adores his little girl, but you were so devoted and constant, also in your love to his girls. Since you met them you were kind, but once you all left and moved out of the country and spent more time, you were fiercely protective and loving of them like they were your own, and the girls had even started calling you mom.

Everything felt too good, and sometimes Suguru wonders if he deserves any of it, any of this happiness, love or joy that you brought him. You look up at him then, a sweet smile on your face, and he walks up to the pretty little white bassinet, brushing Noa’s downy hair back and smiling.

“She looks milk drunk again.” He teases, you shush him, a finger to the lips, a smile on your face.

“She might be, but you know…” your fingertips drift down his chest, over the silk of his robes, making his stomach clench hot with desire. He's been dying to have you, but you two were waiting until you healed up after a bit of a rough labor. The look you give him now makes him ache for you. “I’m feeling very good tonight. I think I pumped enough to have a glass of wine?”

“Fuck…” You cover your giggle and he sighs, hands clenching against your waist too tightly, before releasing you with an exhale. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He exhales and takes your hand, gently tugging you so that you both shut the door quietly of Noa’s room, pressing you against the wall now, arms on either side of your head.

“You’re so excited for wine, Suguru.” You whisper, and you know you fuck with him, he knows you’re aware of the affect you have on him, when you look at him like that under your lidded gaze. “You haven’t gone without drinking, why are you so excited?”

“I’ve gone without drinking alright…” His insinuation makes your cheeks heat up, a blush in the dark, quiet hallway. Although Suguru did have a maids, a cook and a nanny to help you, the home was far quieter than it was with a whole fucking cult living in it. It was much more intimate, private, even though it was hard for you both to get time together alone.

A lot of times, you were exhausted, but you’re wide awake now. All you can do is think about how badly you want him, the most you all have done is months was him toying your clit till you came, and you sucking him down your throat last week when you two had woken up.

He’d been ready to ‘drink you’ last night when the baby started crying, and he’d waited for you to come back only to find you crashed in the rocking chair with Noa. He’d almost had that damn taste on his tongue, but he knows how devoted you are, and fuck he was too, but if he didn’t get to fuck her soon, he was going to lose his fucking mind. 

He tilts your chin up with two fingers, his hair falling softly against your skin as he leans down, eyeing your lips. “What wine do you want, Princess?” He asks, at your command, fuck Suguru is practically ready to kiss your feet if you just let him sink inside you again.

The entire pregnancy until right about the end he’d not left you alone, you were too beautiful, your tits leaking milk, your hips widening to have his baby, the roundness of your tummy, every single mark the baby left. He couldn’t stop devouring you the entirety of it, couldn’t control how sexy you were pregnant, and you’re so beautiful now.

“Some red wine, Sugu. Please.” The nickname always destroys him, he almost falters and just fucks you right in this hallway, instead trying to hold himself together and nodding, gesturing for you to follow.

You both walk slowly to the kitchens, where he opens up one of the wine fridges, and pulls out a bottle of your favorite, one you have had one sip on right after the baby as a little treat. Your cute little squeal of excitement makes him laugh in amusement, pouring you a glass as you watch the dark red liquid swirl.

“Don’t drink too much, you’re gonna be so wasted from like two sips.”

“Will not be! Gimme.” You snatch it up, fingers brushing against his, igniting sparks through the both of you, your eyes meeting his, dark violet in the dimly lit kitchens, he doesn’t let go until you pull back, taking a shaky breath. “Mmm!”

“Yummy?” He pours his own glass, eyeing you over it, the look filling your tummy with more heat than the wine pouring down your throat could, warming you all over.

“So yummy.” You step closer, sipping the sweet liquid, some of it slipping across your lips, and he groans.

“Fuck this.” He sets your glass down and you gasp.

“Excuse me, rude! I can’t have a glass after having your baby?”

“You can have a whole fucking bottle later.” You’re lifted right on the counter, making you so dizzy at how quickly he’s got you lifted, letting out a shaky breath when he slides up the silk of your yukata, watching goosebumps rise against your skin with every inch revealed. “I think I need a drink first.”

“Sugu- ah!” He’s bent down as you’re spread wide on the kitchen counter, kissing a hot messy trail up your thighs, cock throbbing under his robes, already leaking precum just inhaling the scent of your cunt. Your head falls back, revealing your pretty throat as you cry out, arching your hips. “F-fuck…”

“Gonna cum from my breath, huh? Pathetic.” You scowl now, kicking at him with your foot, but he just catches it, smirking up at you as he leans up, his lips a breath against yours, fingers brushing over your bare cunt, and groaning. “No panties, were you wanting this?”

“Of course I w-was, you think I wanted wine?” He moans, slamming his lips against yours, fingers running up and down your slit, your clit twitches when he focuses there, running in circles and making you close just from that. You cling to his silk robes, soft and thick under your fingers, while his tongue starts trailing across your neck, tickling and making you wetter.

“I can’t wait to fuck this perfect cunt again, make you remember that she’s fucking mine.” He’s back down between your thighs as your head rests against the cabinets, uncomfortable as the marble counter is cold under your ass, but all you can think is more.

“Show me then.” He moans softly, on his knees now, so fucking tall he’s counter height to your cunt, and your hands enwrap in his soft raven locks when he presses a hot kiss right against your cunt, watching as you jerk, breathing against you.

“Keep it quiet, slutty little princess, huh?” You nod weakly, fuck it’s been so long since he’s spoken to you like that, since he’s worshipped you like this, and you don’t think you can ever got this long again, not when his tongue laps at your honeyed arousal, making you scream out against your palm. “Fuck… taste your cunt, god she’s so wet f’me, huh?”

“Yes…” You weakly whisper, pulling your hand back just to slam it on your mouth again, the manor you live in is huge but you still don’t want to be that noisy, though it’s damn near impossible as his long tongue slides inside your gummy walls, curling up and making you almost cum from that. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Mnh…” He’s lost then, lost in your taste, in the way your cunt drools down his face, hot and sweet as he drinks it all in, slurping you up while you shatter for him, falling apart with every flick and swirl of his tongue. Your legs start to tremble and he grabs them, spreading them wider, and you can feel your orgasm building up, his teeth nibbling on your clit as you try to keep quiet.

“G-going to cum!” You whisper, but it’s too late, your cunt clenched around his tongue, walls quivering while he curls it up, his nose now hitting your clit, and you let out a muffled scream, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum. “Suguru!”

“That’s it,” he’s sliding his tongue out, sticking two fingers instead, you gasp at the thick, long digits in your cunt, untouched for months, the stretch making you hiss. Your hips are bucking against the counter while he looks up under dark lashes, licking your cunt off his lips. “Another, you can, can’t you princess?”

You nod weakly, and he’s curling those fingertips up against your spongy spot, making you blinded, back down there lapping at your clit and feeling you tighten all around him, that pressure a telltale sign that you’re gonna cum so much for him. “Ah!” You cry out again, biting your lower lip so hard while your head slams the cabinet and you gush down him, orgasm rocking you in waves. “Sugu, too much!”

“You can take more, won’t you be a perfect slut for me? You know you wanna cum again and again. Wanna drown me with all that cum, huh?” His words and their tone fuck you up almost as much as his breath on your clit, while he holds you there, his tongue flicking until your legs finally stop shaking and you collapse, breathing weakly, hands tugging at his hair, burning his scalp.

“Please, fuck me Sugu. God, I need it in me.” Your plea is not going to be denied, not when Suguru almost came from just licking you. He kisses you again, letting you taste your sweetness off his mouth, burying his hands in your hair before picking you up, and you cling to his neck, legs wrapped around him.

“You want it in you, huh?” You just nod weakly, letting him carry you to the room you two share, in moments he has the yukata untied.

“Want it, want it in me so bad- ngh!” Suguru has bared your skin to his gaze, your body swathed in moonlight, for a moment you cover up just a bit, your tummy isn’t the same, and he’s not seen you too much since, earning his glare, as he grips your wrists and eases your arms down.

“You’re as beautiful as the first moment I saw you, so beautiful you made me question if you had some fucking power over me.” He says softly then, easing your worry, a hand brushing over a glimmery mark from Noa, slipping over to your hip and gripping it firmly, watching you tremble in pleasure. “The most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen, got it?”

You nod weakly, swallowing emotions as you quickly untie his robes, revealing his toned, perfect body, your hands shake as they touch his chest, feeling his strong muscles under your fingers. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“Shh.” He picks you up now, cock hard and heavy, already leaking precum when he picks you up, lifting your thigh as you sink into the bed, over the dark purple and gold silk covers, the black canopy enveloping the two of you in darkness. The incense lit earlier still linger in the air, mixing with the scent of Suguru, which makes you need him even more.

“Please, please…” You never beg, he wants to smirk down at you and gloat his victory, but he can't. All he can do is slide his tip right on your slit, groaning as he presses in, feeling your heat wrapping his cock.

“Fucking feel you, so tight, god. Slutty cunt is soaked, all for me?” You nod weakly, and then he thrusts his cock all the way inside to the fucking hilt, and you can’t bite back your scream, thankful the room is so far from the girls now, as he watches you and moans, sliding out and back in. “That’s it, she wants it so much, she’s so fucking greedy huh?”

“Shut up and f-fuck me- ah!” Suguru glares as he does just that, and you would smile at getting him all mad if you weren’t close to cumming from being so full, so stretched by his thick veiny cock.

“Talking shit? You’re still such a brat, tsk.” He’s raised your thighs then, bending you in a way you don’t think you can anymore, pausing when you whine out. “Here okay?” He asks softly, for a moment, then when you nod his sweetness is over, and Suguru Geto is fucking you hard, sure strokes that fuck your brain up until it can’t even function.

He knows it too, as he fucks into you, watching you shatter for him, balls slapping against your ass so heavy, so full of his seed ready to pump inside your eager hole, and you’re begging to be filled by him as he moves. Harder and harder, pressing your thighs further against you until he’s got you in a mating press, and you’re clinging to his biceps, nails digging in.

“That’s it, cum again, let me fucking feel you milk me, huh?” He’s nasty like this, filthy words flowing from his lips like poetry, and all you can do is nod - a girl who once said ‘fuck you’ is now saying-

“Fuck me, fuck me, please, yes!”

And Suguru delights in it, making his pretty wife a mess under him, feeling the hips that are wider from having his babies, seeing your breasts squish, a little milk leaking from them, and then he loses it. “Perfect cunt, she’s ready for all this cum, isn’t she?”

“Mnnnhh - ah! Suguru!” You’re unable to answer when he’s holding your thighs up and slamming his cock until you’re drooling, incoherent.

“Asked you - hah - a question, princess,” he has the audacity to say, in between heavy breaths, all you can do is cry out, as he holds back then, just when you’re about to cum, making you whine out. “Answer.”

“You’re such a - ah! - dick I swear, just lemme cum!” You’re digging your nails in his back so hard you leave marks, and he hisses, but you just turn him on more, making him fuck into you brutally now, pinning you under him so you can’t even squirm.

“Answer me.”

“No!”

“Now.”

“Fuck- ngh! Yes, yes, lemme cum, fuck!” He slams his cock deep and rolls his hips now, letting you finally cum all around him, milking his cock with your greedy cunt, he leans down and kisses you, swallowing your every sweet cry.

“That’s it, she wants all that cum, huh?” You nod weakly, tears of pleasure sneaking from the corners of your eyes, and then he pumps you full, moaning and entwining his hands with yours as the cum pulses so deep, and the two of you struggle to catch your breath. “Fuck, princess, taking me so good, huh? Made for me…”

“Mmhmm…” You’re breathless and exhausted when Suguru pulls back, kissing down and across your chest. The two of you lay there for a while each recovering, laughing, and tickling each other’s skin with gentle touches, grinning.

It’s so perfect here with him in this moment. All of the pain feels like a lifetime ago, not forgotten, but long, long forgiven.

“I’m never going this long without your perfect cunt again.” He touches your clit, making you jerk, laughing as he sucks your cum and his off his finger, moaning and kissing you again.

“I don’t wanna go that long either.” You sigh, kissing up his cheek now. “You know, I was thinking…” you trail off, slipping kisses across Suguru’s sweat slicked chest, he moans, his cock so sticky with cum pulsing again just at that, while his hand runs up and down your back.

“Should I fuck you again, so you can’t think?” He raises an arrogant dark brow, and you narrow your eyes, making him chuckle. “What?

“Well… I was thinking we should visit him.”

“VIsit who? Fuck…” You kiss at the base of his neck, making him tug you onto him, straddling his waist, cunt still coated and dripping his white milky liquid pouring down his dark happy trail, pooling in his flat belly button. He rubs your clit again, watching your eyes dilate, your hips shift. “God, look at the mess you’re making.”

“Mmhmm, but I mean visit Satoru.” Suguru’s scowl makes you giggle, he’s unreasonably jealous that you and Satoru stayed friends. It’s occasional calls, but he’s always mad as fuck afterward.

“Why are we bringing up Satoru when you’re dripping cum on me?” He slips you down, grabbing your hips now, thumbs pressing against the lines that Noa left, eyes feasting on your pretty body. “Look at you, fuck you’re perfect.”

“Am not even.”

“You are so perfect. C’mere.” He yanks you down now, your hair falling across his chest, as he cups your face with one hand, the other making you grind on him. You cry out at the contact, earning his smirk. “Shut you up.”

“N-no! I think it would be good f-for you- you’re distracting me!?”

“Sure am.” You pull up and scowl, so adorable he melts like he always does, sighing as he stares up at you in the dark night. “Fine, we can visit him.”

“Yay! It’ll be good for you, your friend seeing you again. I know it.”

“Yeah yeah, we’ll talk about that after I put another baby inside you.” You gasp then, when he’s lifted you, dragging you right back down his length, filling you in one quick stroke, making you scream out, shaking as the burn hits, feeling so fucking good when he bottoms out in your cunt, loud, wet and messy. He bites that lower lip, lashes lowering, while you struggle to breathe.

“You use your cock to distract me, huh?” He answers with a smirk, slamming his cock up inside you then, you cling to his chest, while his hands drift you your hips, and your cunt is spasming. “No more babies yet.”

“Sure, Princess, whatever you say.” You both glare at each other, before they turn into faces of pleasure, before joking little teases morph into cries and moans, before he’s filled you up again, and again, until you’re collapsed against him, so weak and worn out.

You don’t believe him one bit when he’s waking you up and fucking into you, cumming inside you so much your tummy is full of him, not when he grips your chin with that feral look in his fucking eyes - no, Suguru Geto does want more babies, and you can’t say you mind. Not when having his baby was the best thing that happened, and not when you aren’t dying to give him more.

“I love you, Princess.” He murmurs, stroking you from behind, you gasp and arch your back, whining into his kisses.

“I love you, Suguru.” And you fall again, into the arms of a man that once was a monster, but now was simply…

Your Suguru.

Ahhh so if you read both ends, I hope you enjoyedd, if you only read this I also hope you enjoyed. I initially only planned the bittersweet end, but I enjoyed writing this SO MUCH. Thanks for everyone who stuck around and commented and shared your thoughts on this story. See you in the othersss <3

taglist 1 - @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @satorusaysiloveyou @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @makingtimemine @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @maddyhehehehhe @nanamiskentos @yenayaps @slamonwords @nonamevenus @sugurumylove @shibataimu @spicy-woodland-queen @nonamebbsblog @notyuralycat @beabamboo @satttanx @curlyhairkk @7thsthings @ziggy0stardust @slutlight2ndver

[lewisvinga]

MY man | carlos sainz x fem! reader

summary; nobody knew that carlos was in a relationship until a rumor came about of him dating y/n’s best friend. so she decided enough was enough and finally revealed their relationship, with an extra announcement

fc; dolly zhang

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

note; requested ! carlos last message should say days instead of hours lol, i forgot abt the timeline 😭😭

masterlist !

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others !

carlossainz55: te quiero, mi vida ❤️ [i love you, my life] 6 years together and a lifetime of you by my side !

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: carlos🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

yourusername: i love you so much🩷 can’t wait to be mrs. sainz 🫶

carlossainz55: oh trust me, i’m already counting down the days !

username: OH WHAT

username: 6 YEARSSSS??

username: so he isn’t dating y/b/f and is engaged to someone else ??

yourbestfriend: yup! i just helped him pick out a couple of extra gifts for her 😁😁 he was nervous af😭

carlossainz55: my fiancée has very particular taste 😌

yourusername: thank you for my new cartier watch and lady dior to match my engagement ring 🥹🥹🤭🤭

username:she’s gorgeous waittt😍😍😍

username: carlos can u fight ??

username: tbh he looked rlly cute w the other girl ://

username: omg i thought i was the only one !

landonorris: happy for u guys or whatever but do u still have left over food?? y/n’s cooking is phenomenal

yourusername: unfortunately there is not, but i promise to cook for u next time i visit 🥹

carlossainz55: u don’t deserve her cooking.

charles_leclerc: congratulations, mate! about time 😂 liked by carlossainz55 !

alexandrasaintmleux: omg 🥹congratulations! sososo happy for you guys 🫶🫶

yourusername: get ready for bridesmaid dresses 🤭

carlossainz55: we already started wedding planning if u can’t tell ( we need help w flowers ) 😁😁😁😁😁

alexandrasaintmleux: oh of course i’ll help 😌

username: 55 girlies we lost 💔

username: they’re cute asf but he looked good w y/b/f too😭😭

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and others !

carlossainz55: vacations with my fiancée☀️☀️

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: always spoiling me 🥹 tq👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 [ily]

carlossainz55: the best for my best girl , tq❤️

yourusername: that’s MY man btw. MY man. liked by carlossainz55 !

yourbestfriend: pls stop saying i look good w carlos guys he is gross and y/n punches me w every comment 🤕🤕🤕

carlossainz55: i’m not that bad cmon

yourusername: she just hates men ur so cool babe

username:omg she’s gorgeous

username: carlos won the lottery fr

username: the second picture i’m 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

username: she saw y’all’s comments and got jealous 😭😭she’s so me bc if i was dating carlos i’d make sure ppl know he’s my man

yourusername: exactly. MY fiancée

username: so true bestie

username: he got her not just a regular lady dior but a himalaya crocodile lady dior???😫😫😫😫

username: i’m so sick i love them sm already

maxverstappen1: when will u buy me a lady dior 😔😔😔

carlossainz55: you can buy yourself one

maxverstappen1: so can she !

carlossainz55: she’s my fiancée it’s different 🙄🙄🙄🙄

maxverstappen1: i was there first 😒😒

username: 😍😍😍

username: ferrari rlly has the best wags

username: my parents already, i love them 🥹

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[ caption 1; MY man🤭 ] [ caption 2; 🤍🤍 ]

[luveline]

for the fred x asf!reader, maybe something where one of his family members is like whispering about r or says something rude or backhanded and he sticks up for her? or if you don’t want to do his family, maybe a friend or something?

ty for requesting! fem, 1.7k

Sometimes you get so sick with everything that it makes you gag. It sounds insane, how can an illness that tires you force something like a gag? It might be more appropriate to attribute it to anxiety, but it’s overwhelming, whatever it is. You get this feeling like you’re totally lost in the middle of the day and all Fred can do is watch you as you scramble out of your seat for a bathroom. 

You haven’t actually thrown up yet. You stand bent over the bathroom sink in the burrow and breathe. Your gag had been loud —it wouldn’t surprise you if everybody here tonight had heard it. Fred stands just outside the door, the bathroom too small to force his way in while you still stand at the sink. 

“Lovely,” he says, without shame despite the tens of ears listening in, “can I come in?” 

The basin is made of yellow and orange tile, peculiar as the rest of the burrow. The mirror is framed by the same colours. You meet your own eyes and don’t have it in you to scowl. You aren’t angry at being sick. You aren’t sorry for yourself. You’re just tired. 

Fred says your name. 

You scoot into the very corner of the bathroom and begin opening the door for him. He’s in as soon as you allow him to be, shimmying between the door and the toilet to close it behind him again. He takes a breath of relief when he finds you unhurt, but his concern doesn’t waver. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

Sometimes you wish Fred didn’t have to see you at all. Like this, like that, ever. You wish he never met you, because you know he’s beautiful inside and out, and he has to witness you at your constant lows. “Fine.” 

“My mum’s making some peppermint tea, if you want some. It settles the stomach.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Is there something wrong?” 

Beyond the usual? No. Everything is the same. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’ll be in love with him forever without ever feeling enough, maybe he’ll keep looking at you like he is now, softly, the slightest air of defeat about him. There are wires crossed in your head you can’t fix, and he loves you, and sometimes it doesn’t make a bit of difference. 

“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay.” Fred holds your arm by the elbow.

“I know. I don’t know what…” 

Do you ever? 

Fred doesn’t catch onto your dark mood. “That’s enough for today. We’ll go home, okay? Let me just say goodbye to mum, you can say bye to George. Or do we…” 

“No. It’s okay, I’ll go and see him.” 

“Okay.” He kisses your cheek. 

Fred leaves first. By the time you’ve slipped between the toilet and the door back out into the hallway, he’s gone. Not even his scent lingers. You make your way back into the living room where you’d been before you started feeling sick, face angled down. 

“You alright?” Charlie asks. 

You raise your head to smile at him quickly. “I’m okay. Just not feeling well, sorry.” 

“Going home?” George asks. 

You bite your tongue and nod. George gathers your jumper where you’d shed it in a hot flush and quickly stands to be by your side. 

“Let me walk you down to the garden.” 

“Okay. Bye, Charlie. See you next week.” 

“Feel better!” Charlie calls as you go. 

You pull your jumper on and follow George out into the garden, where you meander. You’d say goodbye to Molly, only she’s so caring that it can make things worse. She’s more understanding of how you feel than you’d first expected, but she made boys like Fred and George, so it shouldn’t surprise you. 

“What’s that about? The being sick?” George asks eventually. 

“I wasn’t sick.” 

“No?” 

“No, it’s just kecking. I don’t really know what it is, honestly.” 

George looks like Fred, but they’re not as identical as people think. Very occasionally you’ll spot him across the shop and think it’s your boyfriend for a few nanoseconds, but you could never mistake them for one another in good lighting. When George offers a hug, it doesn’t feel like Fred’s touch. You know the difference. 

“Maybe it’s, like, a sign you need to chill out for a bit.” 

“I’m always chilled out. Nobody expects anything from me. I never do anything.” 

George pulls back with an arm still covering your shoulders, “Listen to the way you’re talking,” he says gently, “you need to be nice to yourself, even if it’s just until you feel better. You know? Something is clearly winding you up, and it doesn’t have to. You can tell me about it.” 

It’s something, but it’s something he knows already. You hold your arm to his, struggling to explain, to want to. You wish you could go back to saying nothing; it was easier to be quiet. 

George isn’t disappointed. He rubs your arm. “You can tell me whenever. Or not tell me. Don’t tell me anything, let’s just ditch Fred and go get cake.” 

“I can’t ditch Fred.” 

“Why?” 

“I like him.” 

“Ugh.” George puts his cheek to yours. “Whatever. You’ll pick the right twin eventually.” 

Shouting echoes from the house. You and George look up at the same time, startled, the light mood of your joking quickly tanked. “Is that Fred?” you ask. 

It’s definitely Fred. “I couldn’t care less what you think, Ronald, I’d be surprised if you could form intelligent thought–” 

“Fred!” Molly shouts, “Boys, please, there’s no need for all the shouting!” 

“If I were you I’d look at yourself carefully the next time you're tempted to open your fat gob–”

George laughs beside you. “Jesus, what’s Ron said?” 

“I have no idea.” The twins argue with Ron every time they see him, so it could be anything. “Maybe he’s harping on Fred to cut his hair again.” 

“Well, he should.” 

“No way.” You picture your lovely boyfriend with short, short hair as everyone wants him to have and cringe. “No, thank you.” 

“Just don’t talk about her, Ron! It’s really quite simple, even a half-wit like you could understand it if you tried, don’t even think about her–”

Your chest falls as you realise what it is that’s making all the fuss. At Fred’s shout, there’s an upheaval of sounds, Ron’s yelling, Molly’s, and Arthur’s quieter pleading for everybody to calm down. Fred says something you can’t hear, and then the door out into the garden is opening, and Fred huffs a breath as he makes his way down the path. 

“Hey,” he says, forcing a smile when he sees you and George. “Ready to go?” 

“What happened?” you ask. 

“It’s nothing. Ron being Ron.” 

“Did he say something?” 

Fred looks between you and George with a frown. “He’s hardly capable of stringing four words together. But yes, he said something.” His frown deepens. “He’s just being a dick. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Was it about me?” 

Fred squints at you. “Could you be less perceptive?” 

“No.” 

He visually debates telling you what’s been said. George grabs your shoulder, half a hug as he says, “I can invoke a divine punishment.” 

“It was nothing cruel, ghost.” Fred sighs. “He asked me why you act like that, and I– He doesn’t get it, okay? But that doesn’t mean you act wrong.” 

“I see,” you say. 

Fred watches your face. His own turns to heartbreak. “Listen, I’ll go back in there. I’ll kill him.” 

“No, you won’t.” 

“Of course I will.” Fred ducks his head a little to see you where you’ve shied away. “I will kill him.” 

George snorts. “Me first. He’s such a fucking dolt of a boy.” 

“No, it’s okay, I know I’m weird–”

“I’ll kill him–”

“Fred,” you interrupt. You take a moment to formulate what you’re saying, because it’s important, and because you constantly toe the same line, “I am weird. He doesn’t have to pretend I wasn’t just almost sick in the living room for no real reason–”

“It’s not about pretending, it’s that he thinks you do it on purpose.” Fred speaks with such severity that you immediately close your mouth. “I’ve seen you struggle for so long, it’s painful, ghost, and it’s worse for you, I know it is, and the insinuation that you’re choosing–”

“Fred,” you say, putting your hand to his chest. “It’s okay.” 

“Well, it isn’t,” George says, “but yeah, it’s okay. I’m gonna make slugs come out of his nose.” 

George kisses your cheek, a smacking joking thing that you bat away before he jogs back up the path to the house. Fred looks down at your hand on his chest, still frowning, but with a slowly relaxing brow. 

“You can’t blame people for not getting it,” you say. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You can’t.” 

“Yes, I can. You are difficult to understand sometimes, lovely, but being difficult to understand does not mean you’re difficult to care about. Ron’s total lack of empathy is ridiculous. He should be better than that.” 

“He just doesn’t get it,” you say, raising a hand to his chin to turn his head, and lifting your chin to kiss his cheek primly. “But I don’t need him to. Just need you.” 

He grabs you in a hug before you can move away, his face pressed against yours. “How do you feel now?” he asks quietly. “Still poorly?” 

“Yeah, a bit. George told me I need to chill out.” 

“You do. That’s what we’re going home to do.”

Fred is so careful with you that it sort of hurts. Like, to have someone stand in front of you and to hold you without a second thought, to have never let you down, to grab you at the first sign of weakness and hold you together. You will never, ever feel like you deserve him. Maybe you don’t. But Fred doesn’t work on deserving, he just loves, lips soft on your temple as his hand scrunched into your side. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, fingers curling in and out against you, almost like a loving scratch, “you’ll feel better soon.”