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#and EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. its taken away from me
renga-nishizono · 5 months
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whyyy why why why why whyw does this have to happen to me
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sttoru · 9 months
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‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’
☀︎|tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.
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you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.
a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.
sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.
you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.
his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”
you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”
the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.
but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.
“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.
perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”
the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.
he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.
but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.
“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.
you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.
a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.
“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.
sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.
“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”
sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.
“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”
the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.
“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”
sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.
plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.
it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.
“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.
he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”
you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.
“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.
“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.
the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.
he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.
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stylesispunk · 2 months
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"Did the love affair maim you too?"
Joel miller x f!reader
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Summary: Joel doesn't like you until he loses all his memories.
w.c: 14k> (longest piece I've written and my eyes are dry)
warnings: fluff, mention of amnesia, memory loss, ANGST and angst, and more angst because I love angst. There is smut but you already know I'm bad at writing that. No proof reading, I'm lazy, sorry.
a/n: hello! I got inspired by this "memory loss" type of story. It was supposed to be a one shoot, but I had to split the whole thing so another part is more likely to happen. I know there has been some drama surrounding writers and I want to say that every single person who writes and makes an art with that is amazing! Everyone who is reading this, please give creators here your flowers. With that being said, Happy reading or not 😭💌 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. (come on, talk to me)
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Joel didn't used to hate women, but man, when he met you for the first time, you crawled under his skin. He had fun with you, making jokes, trying to get on your nerves. For his hell, everyone in Jackson loved you; after all, you were the nurse and the sweetheart. Always looking after everyone, always being sweet to everyone.
It was a sunny afternoon when you first arrived in Jackson, your kind demeanor and skilled hands quickly gaining the trust and admiration of the townsfolk. Joel watched from a distance with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He couldn't understand why everyone was so taken with you. To him, you seemed too soft, too gentle for the brutal world they lived in.
"Hey, Joel," Tommy called out one day, pulling Joel from his brooding thoughts. "We're heading out on patrol. You should meet the new nurse. She's something else."
Joel grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disinterest. He didn't need to meet you to know what kind of person you were. In his mind, you were just another naive newcomer who wouldn't last a week.
But fate had other plans. That very evening, a group of raiders attacked the outer perimeter. The town was thrown into chaos, and Joel found himself side by side with you, defending the walls. He couldn't help but notice your bravery and the way you handled yourself under pressure.
After the attack, as the town counted its injuries and losses, you worked tirelessly, tending to the wounded. Joel watched you, his irritation growing as he saw the way everyone fawned over you, thanking you for your care.
"Think you're some kind of hero, huh?" Joel muttered as he approached you, his voice laced with sarcasm.
You looked up at him, exhaustion evident in your eyes, but you offered a small, tired smile. "Just doing my job, Joel."
"Your job?" Joel scoffed. "You think patching up a few cuts and bruises is going to keep these people safe? This world doesn't care how sweet you are."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "And what would you have me do, Joel? Let them suffer? We're all trying to survive here, and we all have our roles to play."
Joel huffed and walked away, but your words lingered in his mind. Despite himself, he couldn't deny that you were right. Over the following weeks, Joel continued to watch you, his annoyance slowly giving way to a grudging respect. He noticed how you never backed down, how you always stood your ground, even when faced with his relentless jabs.
One day, during a particularly harsh winter storm, you and Joel were sent out on a supply run. The weather was brutal, and the path was treacherous. As the wind howled around you, Joel found himself instinctively moving closer, his protective instincts kicking in despite his irritation.
"Watch your step," he warned, his voice gruff.
You nodded, shivering against the cold. "Thanks, Joel."
As you both trudged forward, the wind picked up, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. You focused on placing one foot in front of the other, barely able to see Joel a few steps ahead. Suddenly, you heard a sharp crack and a thud.
"Joel!" you shouted, fear gripping your heart.
Rushing forward, you found Joel lying on the ground, unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. He must have slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock hidden beneath the snow.
Panic set in, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You needed to get him back to Jackson quickly. You checked his pulse, relieved to find it steady, then did your best to bandage the wound with the supplies you had. With great effort, you managed to lift Joel and drape him over your shoulder, carrying him back through the storm.
By the time you reached Jackson, you were exhausted and freezing, but you didn't stop until you got Joel to the infirmary. The doctors took over, treating his wound and monitoring his condition.
You sat by Joel's bedside, watching him closely. Hours passed, and eventually he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, disoriented.
"Joel?" you said softly, leaning forward.
He turned his head to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. But then, a slow, almost lazy smile spread across his face. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Did I die and wake up in heaven?"
You blink, taken aback by his words. "Uh, Joel, it's me. Do you remember what happened?"
Joel's smile didn't waver as he looked at you. "I remember everything... except meeting you before. Are you sure we haven't met in a dream?"
You glanced at Tommy, who had just walked into the room, and saw the same confusion mirrored on his face. "Joel," Tommy said cautiously, stepping closer, "do you know who I am?"
Joel's eyes shifted to Tommy, his smile fading into a look of mild frustration. "Of course I do, Tommy. You're my brother. But I'm more interested in getting to know this doll here."
Tommy exchanged bewildered looks with you. "Joel, this is… Ah. She's... well, you two never really got along."
Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Well, I must've been an idiot then because I can't imagine not liking someone like you."
Your heart raced, unsure how to respond to this flirtatious side of Joel, the same who hours ago was trying to crawl under your skin, the same one who had rejected you all this time. "Joel, you really don't remember me at all?"
Joel shook his head, still gazing at you with that same enamored look. "Not a thing. But I gotta say, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time, and I like what I see."
Tommy scratched his head, clearly at a loss. "This is... something else. We need to figure out what happened to his memory."
You nodded, trying to process the sudden shift in Joel's demeanor. You knew the hit on the head did something to his memory, but you didn’t know how to face it. "Joel, you hit your head pretty hard. The doctors said you might have some memory loss. Maybe this is part of it."
Joel reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, if forgetting the past means I get to start over with you, I think I can live with that."
You couldn't help but blush, feeling a mix of confusion and something else you couldn't quite place. Perhaps butterflies are flying all around inside your tummy. "We'll take it slow, okay? There's a lot you need to know."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "As long as you're the one teaching me, I'm all in."
Tommy coughed awkwardly, breaking the moment. "Alright, let's give Joel some time to rest and recover. We'll figure this out together."
You nodded, reluctantly pulling your hand away from Joel's. "Get some rest, Joel. We'll talk more later."
As you and Tommy left the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of Joel's gaze following you. Tommy put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Just... be careful. He's not the same Joel right now."
You nodded, your mind racing with the implications of Joel's memory loss and his sudden interest in you. The days ahead were sure to be challenging, but you couldn't deny the flicker of excitement at the thought of getting to know this new, more open version of Joel.
A version where he could get to know you and maybe, like, a new story waiting to be written with the both of you becoming friends, and not just acquaintances just having to tolerate each other for the community’s sake.
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The days following Joel's accident were a whirlwind of confusion and unexpected emotions dancing on your mind. Joel's flirtatious comments and affectionate demeanor were a stark contrast to the gruff, often combative man you had known before.
You had started to get used to feeling his nice demeanor towards you. You found yourself happier than before, smiling at the thought of him when you weren’t with him, and he had become your last thought on your bed just before going to sleep, but you were aware his condition perhaps wasn’t permanent and he was going to recover his memories of you, so you didn’t want to take advantage of that, nor did you want to fall for Joel, not when the fear of him waking up one day and hating you as usual was a threat.
His recovery was slow but steady, and you spent a lot of time by his side, helping him piece together the fragments of his memory. Every interaction felt like walking on fire, with Joel's behavior making your heart flutter and your mind racing at thousand miles per hour.
As you were changing the bandage on his head, Joel watched you with a soft smile. "You know, you have the gentlest touch. It's like you're an angel sent to take care of me."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, Joel. Making sure your pretty head heals properly."
Joel reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're more than just a nurse to me now. I don't know what it is, but I feel this connection with you. Like we're meant to be."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Joel, a few days ago I was nothing to you. You don’t remember me, so please just focus on getting better."
Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with earnestness. "I get it, but I can't help how I feel. This connection—it's real to me, even if I don't remember our past."
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. "Joel, you're vulnerable right now. Your mind is trying to make sense of everything, and it's confusing. We need to take things slow."
Joel nodded reluctantly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pulled it back. "I trust you. Just know that I'm here, and I want to get to know you, past or no past."
You gave him a reassuring smile. "One step at a time, okay? Let's focus on getting you back on your feet first."
Just then, Tommy walked in, carrying a tray of food. He cleared his throat, causing you to step back from Joel. "Brought you some lunch, big brother. How’re you feeling?"
Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of his brother. "Thanks, Tommy. I'm feeling better every day. And with this sunshine here, it's hard not to feel good."
Tommy gave you a knowing look, his concern evident. "Glad to hear it. Mind if I have a word with you outside?" he asked, looking towards you.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Of course, Tommy."
As you stepped outside the room, Tommy closed the door behind you, his expression serious. "How are you holding up?"
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It's... complicated. Joel is so different now. He's kind, attentive, and he seems genuinely interested in me. But he doesn't remember our past—how much we clashed."
Tommy nodded, his face lined with concern. "I can see how that would be confusing. But you have to be careful. This might just be his way of coping with the memory loss. He's latching onto the one constant he has right now—you."
You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I'm trying to keep my distance, but it's hard. He's... he's different, Tommy. And I can't deny that I'm starting to care for him."
Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I get it. But you need to remember that his memory might come back, and when it does, he could revert to the Joel we knew before. You have to protect yourself, too."
“Am I that unlovable?” you sighed.
Tommy's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, you're not unlovable. Far from it. But the Joel we knew before... he had his walls up, and you know how stubborn he can be. If his memory comes back, he might go back to those old habits, those old defenses."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I understand. It's just... complicated."
Tommy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it slow. Don't rush into anything, and remember to take care of yourself too. You suffered a lot before arriving here."
You managed a small smile. "Thanks, Tommy. I needed that."
Tommy smiled back. "Anytime."
Returning to Joel's room, you found him sitting up, his eyes lighting up as you walked in. "Hey, everything okay?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just had a chat with Tommy."
Joel's expression became thoughtful. "You know, I'm really grateful for everything you're doing for me. I can't imagine what it must be like, dealing with me like this."
You sat down beside him, taking a deep breath. "It's not easy, Joel, but it's worth it. You're worth it."
Joel reached out, taking your hand in his. "You know, even though I don't remember everything, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time. And I like what I see."
Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. "Joel, we need to take things slow. Focus on your recovery first."
Joel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I understand. But I can't help how I feel."
He has repeated the same phrase as before, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself diving into a deep ocean for him.
You squeezed his hand gently. "One step at a time, okay?"
Joel's eyes held a determined glint. "One step at a time."
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The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Jackson settlement as you walked briskly toward the main gate, your medical bag slung over your shoulder. You spotted Joel waiting for you, his arms crossed and a scowl already etched on his face.
"You're late," he growled as you approached.
You rolled your eyes. "I'm five minutes late, Joel. I had to take care of a kid with a fever."
Joel grunted, clearly unimpressed. "We have a schedule for a reason. Being late puts us at risk."
"Don't lecture me about risk," you shot back, your patience wearing thin. "I know the dangers out there just as well as you do."
Joel's eyes narrowed. "Do you? Because sometimes it feels like you're too soft for this world. Always stopping to help every stray animal and sick kid."
"Excuse me for having a heart," you snapped. "Not everyone wants to live like a damn machine."
"Having a heart can get you killed," Joel retorted, his voice rising. "Out there, you need to be tough. Focused."
"And maybe if you lightened up a bit, people wouldn't be so scared of you," you shot back, your frustration boiling over.
Joel took a step closer, his jaw clenched. "I don't care if people are scared of me. I care about keeping them safe. And you, with your bleeding heart, make that harder."
You felt a surge of anger and hurt at his words. "You know what, Joel? Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe it's you. Maybe you're so wrapped up in your own pain that you can't see anyone else's."
Joel's face darkened, a mix of anger and something else—something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "You don't know anything about my pain."
"And you don't know anything about mine," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "So maybe you should stop judging me and start seeing that we're all trying to survive in this hell together."
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. Then Joel turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Let's just get this patrol over with."
You followed him out of the gate, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions. The silence between you was thick and uncomfortable, but neither spoke. The rift between you seemed insurmountable, and you couldn't see how things would ever change.
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You woke up with a pain on your neck. You had fallen asleep on a chair next to Joel’s bed where he was now lay resting, his breathing even and steady. His recovery was going well, but the emotional landscape was far more complex and you wanted to take the risk to discover it.  
You watched him for a moment, taking a mental picture of his face, the creases on his skin, how peaceful he looked like this. feeling the weight of uncertainty and guilt within you.
In that exact moment, Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, his gaze settling on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "Hey, sunshine."
"Hey," you replied softly, mirroring his smile "How are you feeling?"
Joel stretched, wincing slightly but smiling nonetheless. "Better. Thanks to you."
You couldn't help but smile back, the tension easing a bit. "Just doing my job, Joel."
His eyes softened as he looked at you. "You're doing more than just your job. You've been taking care of me, looking out for me. I appreciate it."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "It's what anyone would do."
Joel shook his head slightly. "No, not everyone. You're special, and I... I think I’m starting to understand that."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. "Joel, you don't need to say that. You're still recovering, and things are confusing right now."
Joel's gaze remained steady, his expression earnest. "I mean it. There's something about you... something that's been here all along, and I was too stubborn to see it."
Your heart ached with the weight of his words, knowing how complicated the situation was. "Joel…”
“Did I care about you before?” he asked, gaze locked with yours.
You shook your head “No. Not really.”
You shook your head, feeling the sting of the truth. “No. Not really.”
Joel looked troubled, his brows knitting together. “I find that hard to believe. Because right now, I can’t imagine not caring about you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Things were different before, Joel. We didn’t get along. You were... closed off, and I guess I was just someone who got under your skin.”
Joel’s expression softened with regret. “I’m sorry. For whatever I did to make you feel that way. I wish I could remember, but all I know is that right now, I see you, and I feel... connected.”
A memory from the past surged forward, vivid and painful. It was a cold evening in Jackson, just after a particularly difficult supply run. You and Joel had been at odds all day, and the tension between you was palpable.
"Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?" Joel snapped; his voice harsh as he slammed the door behind him.
You bristled at his tone, your own temper flaring. "Maybe because you treat me like I’m incompetent! I’m trying my best out there, Joel. We’re supposed to be a team."
Joel scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "A team? You’re a liability more than anything."
The words cut deep, but you stood your ground. "That’s not fair, and you know it. I’m just trying to help, like everyone else."
Joel’s face twisted with frustration. "Help? You call what you do helping? It’s a wonder anyone here can stand you."
The hurt was immediate and sharp, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "At least I’m trying to do something good. You just push everyone away."
Joel stepped closer, his expression dark. "Maybe there’s a reason for that. I find it hard to believe anyone could actually love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, disbelief and pain warring within you. Without another word, you turned and left, unable to bear the weight of his cruelty.
Back in the present, you blinked, trying to dispel the memory. Joel was watching you closely, concern etched into his features. "What’s wrong?"
You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. "Just... remembering something."
Joel reached out, gently taking your hand. "I wish I could remember too. So, I could make it right."
You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Maybe it’s better this way.
Joel squeezed your hand gently. "A fresh start sounds good. But I still want to know everything. About us, about what I did wrong. So, I can be better."
You nodded, taking the risk and pushing your luck.
You and Joel could become friends, right?
"You and I... we could become friends, right?" you asked.
Joel’s eyes softened even more, and he smiled. "Friends sounds like a good start. We can build from there."
You felt a surge of relief. "Friends it is, then."
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The days passed, each one bringing closeness between you and Joel. He had got better, slowly starting to get back to his tasks. The community noticed the change in him, how he was more open and approachable. You often found yourselves working together, whether it was on supply runs or him visiting the infirmary when you were there working.
One afternoon, you were busy organizing medical supplies when Joel walked in, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Hey, need any help in here?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You looked up, smiling back. "Joel, what are you doing here? I thought you were out patrolling.”
Joel shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Finished early. Thought I’d come by and see if you needed a hand."
He, in fact lied. He switched places with another guy just to spend time with you again. He could feel your fear irradiating but he wanted to get to know you better. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he didn’t like someone like you and he wanted to change that.  
You chuckled, shaking your head. " Sure, you can help me with these supplies. There are some boxes that need to be sorted."
Joel rolled up his sleeves and joined you, his presence filling the small room with a comforting warmth. As you worked side by side, you found yourself stealing glances at him, marveling at the changes in him. He was more relaxed, more open, and undeniably more attentive.
"You know," Joel said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think I like helping out here more than patrolling."
You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Oh? And why is that?"
Joel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I get to spend more time with you."
You blushed, focusing intently on the box in front of you. "You’re just saying that."
"No, I mean it," Joel replied, his tone sincere. "I like being around you. You make everything better."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. "Well, I like having you around too."
The truth was that stealing glances at him now felt like interlocking fingers without even touching his skin, there wasn’t precisely a sexual tension or possessiveness over him, but a warm incandescent glow within every time he smiled at you. That was something you hadn’t felt in so long, and this time felt so right yet so wrong.
You both continued to work in comfortable silence, the rhythm of your tasks interrupted only by the occasional exchange of smiles or a shared joke. The closeness was undeniable, and you could feel the lines between friendship and something more starting to blur.
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One afternoon, you were out on a supply run together, scanning the area for anything useful. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the landscape. As you bent down to pick up some supplies, Joel suddenly appeared by your side, his proximity making your heart race.
"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
You looked up at him, finding it hard to concentrate with him so close. "Sure, thanks."
As you both worked, the conversation flowed easily. Joel's presence was comforting, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't before.
"You know, I never really thanked you properly," Joel said, his tone serious.
"For what?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"For saving my life. For being there for me when I needed it the most," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache.
You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. "You don’t need to thank me, Joel. I did what anyone would do."
"Not anyone," he insisted, his gaze intense. "You went above and beyond. You always do."
You blushed, the warmth spreading through you once again. "Well, I care about you. I can’t help it."
Joel's expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I care about you too. More than I ever thought possible."
The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken words and emotions. You could feel the pull between you, the undeniable connection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
"Joel, this is complicated," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "We need to take things slow."
"I know," he replied, his hand lingering near your face. "But I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Joel's feelings for you had grown stronger. He found himself being smitten and completely in love by you, by your beauty, your strength and your soft heart. You were everything that was good with this world. Where everything and everyone was people with shadows dying out of melancholy, you were an angel wrapping your warm arms around him, making his world brighter. He had learnt how to savor the colors again.
As you continued your days together, Joel couldn't help but find ways to be close to you. He would always volunteer to accompany you on supply runs, ensuring you were safe and cared for. He would show up at the infirmary with small gifts – a flower he found on his patrol, a cup of your favorite tea, or a book he thought you might like. His gestures were always thoughtful and sincere, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings.
Joel couldn't take his eyes off you. You were kneeling in the ground, your hands deftly cleaning something you had found, your face serene and focused. Joel felt a swell of emotion, unable to keep it to himself any longer.
"You know," he began, his voice gentle, "I used to think this world had nothing left to offer. But then I met you."
You looked up, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze. "Joel..."
He knelt beside you, his hand covering yours. "You make everything better. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine going back to the way things were."
You felt a mixture of warmth and apprehension. His words were everything you wanted to hear, yet the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on your heart. "Joel, this is all so new and complicated. We need to be careful."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes full of determination. "I know it's complicated, and I know we've got a lot to figure out. But I can't ignore what I feel. I want to be here for you, with you, through everything."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "I want that too, Joel. But we need to take it one step at a time."
He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I will make you fall in love with me," he said, his voice full of determination and warmth.
You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. "You're quite confident, aren't you?"
Joel chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "When it comes to you, I am."
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You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. "Let's get back to Jackson," you said, standing up and brushing off your clothes. Joel stood with you, offering a hand to help you up.
As you made your way back to Jackson, the conversation flowed easily. Joel told you stories from before the outbreak, sharing pieces of his past he hadn’t opened up about before. You found yourself laughing at his anecdotes, feeling a growing sense of connection.
When you finally reached the gates of Jackson, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the community. People greeted you both warmly, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor. He was more relaxed and more present, and it was clear to everyone that you had a positive influence on him.
Tommy approached, a knowing smile on his face. "Good to see you both back safe and sound."
Joel clapped his brother on the shoulder. "It was a good run. Found some useful supplies."
Tommy nodded, then looked at you. "And how about you? Everything alright?"
You smiled, feeling the warmth of Joel’s gaze on you on your face. "Yeah, everything's good."
As the evening settled in, you and Joel made your way to the communal dining hall. The chatter of the community filled the air, and you found a spot to sit together. Joel’s hand lingered near yours, his touch reassuring and steady.
Tommy, Ellie, and Maria soon joined you at the table. Tommy was carrying a tray laden with food, Ellie trailing behind him with a mischievous grin, and Maria gave you a warm smile as she took a seat.
"Good to see you two back," Elli said, setting down the tray and passing out plates. “How was the run?" Ellie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"It went well," Joel replied, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he continued. "Found some useful supplies and had some good company."
Ellie smirked, elbowing Tommy. "I bet you did."
You blushed, focusing on your plate as you filled it with food. Maria, ever perceptive, glanced between you and Joel with a knowing smile. "It's good to see everyone together," she said, her tone light and warm.
As you all began to eat, the conversation flowed naturally. Tommy and Maria talked about the latest updates in the community, Ellie shared stories from her day, and Joel occasionally chimed in with his dry humor, making everyone laugh.
At one point, Ellie leaned over to you, her voice low enough so only you could hear. "Joel's been different lately. In a good way. You've been good for him."
You looked at her, surprised by her observation. "I hope so. It's been... a journey."
Ellie nodded, her expression sincere. "Just keep being you. That's all he needs."
The meal continued, filled with warmth and laughter. Joel's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending electricity down your body.
Just as you were starting to relax, a woman approached the table, her presence causing a ripple of unease. It was Lori, one of the women Joel used to date. Joel visibly tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate as Lori stopped beside him, her smile a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place.
“Joel," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Joel looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Lori. Uh, hi."
Lori glanced around the table, her eyes settling on you for a moment before she looked back at Joel. "I was just passing by and saw you all together. Mind if I join?"
Before anyone could respond, Tommy jumped in. "Sure, why not? There's always room for one more."
Lori pulled up a chair and sat down, her presence adding a layer of tension to the dynamics. Joel seemed uncomfortable; his usual confidence was replaced by nervous energy.
"So, Joel," Lori began, her tone light but probing. "How have you been? It's been a while."
Joel cleared his throat, glancing at you briefly before answering. "Yeah, it has. I've been... good. Just busy with everything here."
Lori nodded, her gaze shifting between you and Joel. "I can see that. Looks like you've made some new friends." She said, bitterly, “The last time I knew from you was when you left my house after our night, and then you hit your head and never spoke to me again.”
The table fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Joel looked uncomfortable, his gaze dropping to his plate. You could see the guilt and confusion in his eyes as he tried to process Lori's words.
"I'm sorry, Lori," Joel finally said, his voice low. "I don't remember much from before the accident. It's been... complicated."
Lori's expression softened slightly, but the hurt in her eyes remained. "I get that. But it still stings, you know? You just disappeared."
You felt a pang of empathy for Lori but also a fierce protectiveness over Joel. "It's been hard for him,” you said gently, trying to ease the tension. "Joel's been working hard to piece things together. He's different now, and we're all just trying to move forward."
Lori glanced at you, her expression unreadable. "I can see that, but it seems like you had taken advantage of the situation; he couldn’t stand your ass before his accident, and suddenly you have him like a little puppy following you everywhere.”
Your heart drops to your stomach, feeling warm spreading to your cheeks.
Joel's jaw tightened, and he quickly interjected, his voice firm. "That's enough, Lori. You don't know what you're talking about."
Lori raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I just find it convenient, that's all."
Tommy leaned forward, his tone calm but authoritative. "Lori, we're all trying to move forward here. It's not fair to make accusations."
Ellie, always quick to defend those she cared about, added, "You weren't here to see what she did for Joel. She saved his life and has been helping him every step of the way."
Lori's gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just needed to understand."
Maria nodded, her voice gentle. "We all get that, Lori. It's been a tough situation for everyone."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. "You took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll take some fresh air,” you said, standing up, not even looking down at Joel, who seemed sad at your whole dementor.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. I—" you paused, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. "I’ll take some fresh air," you said, standing up abruptly. Avoiding eye contact with Joel, who looked sad and concerned, you made your way outside.
The cool evening air was a welcome relief, and you walked a little way from the dining hall, finding a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. You leaned against a tree, closing your eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.
After a few moments, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes to see Ellie standing there, her expression filled with concern. "Hey, you okay?"
You nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I just needed a moment. That was a bit embarrassing."
Ellie walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. "Lori was out of line. You've been amazing with Joel. Anyone with eyes can see that."
“So, don’t you think I’ve been taking advantage of him?” You asked, really concerned.
“What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you.” She replied, laughing.
Ellie laughed, shaking her head. "What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you."
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I know, but sometimes it feels like I’m walking on eggshells. It feels like he is going to wake up from his trance and he will hate me again."
Ellie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I've seen the way he looks at you. He’s happier, lighter. You’ve brought out a side of him I didn’t think existed. And trust me, if he didn’t want this, he’d make it clear."
You took a deep breath.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked.
“Me, falling in love with him,” you answer.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked, her tone light but sincere.
You sighed, the weight of your fears pressing down. “Me, falling in love with him,” you answered quietly.
Ellie gave you a sympathetic look. "And why is that so bad?"
"Because," you began, struggling to put your feelings into words, "what if his memories come back and he realizes he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if I fall in love with him and he changes back to the old Joel, the one who couldn’t stand me?"
Ellie nodded, understanding. "That's a risk, sure. But you can't let fear keep you from living. You've been through so much together, and it's clear he cares about you deeply now. Maybe that won't change."
You bit your lip, the turmoil inside you reflected in your eyes. "I just don't want to get hurt, Ellie. And I don’t want to hurt him either."
Ellie squeezed your shoulder. "I get it. But if you keep holding back, you'll never know what could be. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith."
You let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Maybe you're right."
Ellie grinned. "Of course I'm right. Now, let's get back in there. Joel's probably worrying himself sick."
You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Okay, let's go."
As you walked back into the dining hall, you found Joel still sitting at the table, his eyes lighting up when he saw your return. He stood up as you approached, his concern evident.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a breather."
Joel looked relieved, and he gently took your hand. "I'm glad you're back."
The evening continued with easy conversation, and as you all eventually made your way out of the dining hall, Joel walked beside you, his presence a comforting constant.
"Thanks for dinner," he said softly as you approached your door.
"Anytime," you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. "It was nice, being with everyone."
Joel nodded, his eyes lingering on you. "It was. And I meant what I said today. I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
You chuckled softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at his words. "You're really set on that, aren't you?"
Joel nodded, his expression serious but with a hint of a smile that made you go crazy. "I am. Because I know what I feel now, and I’m not going to let it slip away."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Joel, this is new for both of us. We need to take it one step at a time."
He took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. “Am I that unlovable?”
You blinked, taken aback by his question. "What? No, Joel, you're not unlovable at all. It's just... complicated."
Joel's eyes softened, and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "I get that. But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as it takes."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I appreciate that, Joel. And I do care about you. A lot. It's just..."
"Scary?" he finished for you, his voice gentle.
You nodded.
Joel's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get it. It is scary. But sometimes, the best things come from taking a leap of faith."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "It’s not just about taking a leap. It’s about making sure we’re ready for whatever comes next."
Joel squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand. And I'm ready to take it slow to give you the space you need. Just know that I’m here for you, and I’m not giving up on us."
You felt a mix of relief and trepidation, but Joel's unwavering support gave you strength. "Thank you, Joel. That means a lot to me."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "We’ll figure it out, one step at a time."
You nodded, closing your eyes for a brief second, allowing yourself to savor the closeness and the promise of what might come. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Joel’s smile—a smile that made you believe in the possibility of a new beginning.
"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice tender, holding back the desire to cupp your face and kiss you.
"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, your heart fluttering, feeling the same as him.
Now standing, this close, face to face, skins touching. One of you would give in before, and once that happened, there was no going to be a way to stop two hearts beating this fast.
Joel's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze revealing the depth of his emotions. You could see the conflict within him, the longing that mirrored your own. His hand lingered near your face, his fingers almost brushing against your skin, his breath warm and steady.
The moment felt suspended in time, the air between you charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. You both stood there, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from each other, your hearts racing in sync.
Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to push you, but I also don’t want to pretend like I don’t feel this.”
You swallowed, your own voice trembling slightly. “I feel it too, Joel. But we need to be careful.”
Joel nodded, his expression a mix of desire and restraint. “I know. And I want to respect that. I just...” He hesitated, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t want to miss this chance with you. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Joel’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, the desire and uncertainty evident in his expression. His hand gently cupped your face. His touch was tender, as if he were afraid to break the spell that bound you both.
You felt your heart race, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Joel’s fingers brushed softly against your cheek, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His breath grew shallower, and his eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the closeness.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of warmth and affection that sent a shiver down your spine. The moment felt both exhilarating and comforting, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that had been building between you.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving softly against his. The kiss deepened gradually, a sweet exploration of new and uncharted territory. His hands moved to frame your face, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were cherishing every second of this newfound closeness.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. The kiss had been more than just a physical connection; it was a promise of something more, something that neither of you fully understood yet but were both eager to explore.
Joel’s smile was tender and full of warmth. “I’ve wanted to do that since I woke up that day at the infirmary,” he admitted softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his confession. His words made your heart flutter even more, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm glad you did," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling the same way."
Joel's smile widened, and he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I didn’t want to rush things or push you. But now... now that we’ve shared this, I hope we can figure things out together."
You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and warmth. "I think we can. I want to see where this leads."
He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "No pressure, just... being here with you."
You smiled, feeling a sense of calm and excitement. "I would like that.”
Joel nodded; his expression full of affection. "Good. Now, how about we get some rest? Tomorrow's a new day, and I want to spend it with you."
You felt a burst of warmth at his words and, inspired by the new closeness between you, you hesitated for just a moment before speaking up. “How about we go inside for a bit? I’ve got some tea. It might be nice to relax and talk more.”
Joel’s eyes lit up at the invitation, and he nodded with a smile. “That sounds perfect.”
You led the way to your house, the familiar surroundings now feeling different with Joel by your side. Once inside, you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing the tea. Joel watched you with an easy smile, clearly content.
As you waited for the water to boil, you and Joel chatted about lighter topics—how his recovery was going, plans for the community, and small anecdotes from your days. The conversation flowed easily, and the atmosphere between you was comfortable and warm.
When the tea was ready, you poured two cups and handed one to Joel. He took it with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. You both settled into a cozy corner of your living room, the soft light of a lamp casting a gentle glow around the room.
Joel sipped his tea, his gaze occasionally meeting yours. “This is nice,” he said softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Joel looked around your living room, the peaceful ambiance a stark contrast to the harsh world outside. He took another sip of his tea, then turned his gaze back to you. “You know, before all this, I had a pretty normal life. A family, a daughter named Sarah. She was... everything to me.”
His voice carried a tinge of sadness, and you could see the pain in his eyes. You nodded, sensing the weight of his memories. “I’m sorry, Joel. I can’t even imagine.”
Joel’s expression was somber but grateful. “Thanks. She was everything. When the outbreak happened, she... she didn’t make it. It’s been hard, you know? Trying to keep going and make sense of it all.”
You felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how devastating such a loss could be. “I understand. I lost my fiancé in a storm during the outbreak. We were caught outside, and he was... gone before I could do anything.”
Joel’s eyes softened with empathy. “That’s so tough. I’m really sorry you went through that.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own memories. “It was the storm that made me afraid of them. Every time the weather changes, it reminds me of that day. I try not to let it control me, but sometimes, it’s hard.”
Joel reached out, placing his hand gently on yours. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that. It’s brave of you to face it every day.”
You looked at his hand on yours, feeling a comforting warmth from his touch. “It’s been a struggle, but having people like you around makes it a little easier.”
Joel nodded, his gaze steady. “We all have our battles. But we’ve found ways to keep moving forward. And maybe together, we can make those battles a little less daunting.”
+++++
The days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Joel grew stronger. The bond you shared was evident in the way you looked at each other and the ease with which you interacted. People in Jackson had noticed the change in both of you, and there was a sense of warmth and contentment surrounding your partnership.
One afternoon, as you were working in the infirmary, organizing supplies and checking on patients, Joel walked in. He had that familiar, easy smile on his face, and his presence was a comforting one amidst the hectic pace of the medical work.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “Thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
You looked up, your face lighting up at the sight of him. “Hey, Joel. Just busy as usual. How’s everything on the patrol?”
Joel shrugged, walking over to where you were working. “Not too bad. But I figured I’d come by and keep you company. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah, I’ve been needed here more often lately. But it’s good to see you.”
Joel moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. “I’ve missed you. It’s different when you’re not around.”
You felt a surge of affection at his words. “I’ve missed you too. But this is important. People need help, and I want to make sure I’m here for them.”
Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I get it. Just remember to take care of yourself too. I’d hate to see you running on empty.”
You chuckled, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try. But having you here now brought a smile to my face.”
He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “Well, I’m glad to be here. Can I help with anything?”
You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Actually, if you could help me restock some of these supplies, that would be great.”
Joel moved closer, his hand gently brushing against yours as he began helping with the supplies. The shared task created a comfortable silence between you, with only the soft sounds of organizing supplies filling the space.
As you worked side by side, Joel’s gaze lingered on you with an intensity that made your heart race. Without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. The kiss was a sweet proof the connection you shared, and you responded with equal tenderness, savoring the closeness.
Just as the kiss deepened, the door to the infirmary swung open, and Dr. Ramirez walked in. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and Joel but quickly masked her surprise with a professional smile.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone warm but slightly teasing. “I came to check on things and see if you needed any help.”
You and Joel pulled away; a bit flustered but smiling nonetheless. “We were just finishing up,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Everything’s in order.”
Dr. Ramirez nodded, her gaze flicking between you and Joel with a knowing look. “Alright, if you need anything, just let me know.”
As she moved to her office, you glanced at Joel, your cheeks still slightly flushed. “Well, that was embarrassing.”
Joel chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Yeah, but I guess it’s a good thing everyone know you’re my girl.”
You looked up at Joel, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I suppose it is. It’s nice to be able to be open about us."
Joel’s expression softened; his gaze warm. “It is. And I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It makes everything feel more real, more... solid.”
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Do you want to have dinner at my place?” he asked.
You looked up at Joel, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of spending more time together. “Dinner at your place sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”
Joel’s face lit up with a warm smile. “Great. I’ll make sure to have something good ready for us.”
You both made your way to Joel’s place, the evening air cool and crisp. The walk was filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, a comforting routine that had become a cherished part of your days.
When you arrived at Joel’s house, he opened the door and gestured for you to enter. The interior was cozy, with soft lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. He led you to the kitchen, where a simple but inviting dinner was laid out on the table.
Joel’s cooking was surprisingly good, and as you enjoyed the meal together, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything and nothing—your favorite memories, plans for the future, and the little things that made you both laugh.
After dinner, you moved to the living room, where Joel had set up a comfortable spot with blankets and pillows. You both settled in, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate.
Joel looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Me too. Tonight has been perfect.”
He wrapped his arm around you, his touch warm and reassuring. “Here’s to many more nights like this.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”
As the evening wore on, you both talked about your past experiences and shared stories from before the outbreak. Joel spoke about his life before everything changed—his family, the dreams he had, and the struggles he faced. You shared your own experiences, including the loss of your fiancé and the challenges of adapting to this new world alone.
Joel listened intently, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as if to reassure you. “It’s amazing how much we’ve both been through,” he said softly. “And yet, here we are.”
You nodded, feeling a deep connection. “Yeah. It feels like we’re building something meaningful despite everything.”
After some time, you both decided it was time to call it a night. You stood up, stretching slightly as you gathered your things. Joel walked with you to the door, his presence a comforting constant.
As you reached the door, Joel hesitated for a moment, then gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you with a mix of hesitation and hope in his eyes. “I was wondering… would you like to spend the night here? It’s been nice having you around, and I’d love to have you stay.”
You looked at him, surprised but touched by the invitation. The warmth in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice made it hard to resist.
“I’d like that,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.
Joel’s expression brightened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug. “Great. Let’s get you settled in.”
Joel led you to his bedroom, a space that felt both lived-in and welcoming. The room was simple but comfortable, with a bed covered in worn but clean linens and a few personal touches that spoke to Joel’s character—photos of his family, a well-loved guitar leaning against the wall, and a small stack of books on the bedside table.
He gestured to the bed with a slightly sheepish grin. “Sorry, it’s not much, but it’s home.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance. “It’s perfect.”
Joel nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad you think so.”
You both prepared for bed in comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine helping to ease any lingering tension. Joel showed you where you could find anything you might need—extra blankets, a lamp for reading, and a small cabinet for any personal items you might want to keep nearby.
As you both settled into the bed, Joel turned off the lights, leaving only a soft glow from a nightlight on the dresser. He slipped under the covers, and you followed suit, the warmth and comfort of the bed providing a welcome respite from the day’s events.
Joel turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice tender.
You smiled, feeling a sense of peace as you settled closer to him. “Me too. It feels right.”
He reached out and gently took your hand, interlocking your fingers. The simple gesture was filled with meaning, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger.
“Goodnight,” Joel whispered, his voice carrying a note of affection.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your heart fluttering with contentment.
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A few days later, you and Ellie were seated at a table in the bustling dining hall, enjoying a well-deserved lunch. The room was filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of utensils, creating a comforting background noise.
Ellie, always full of energy, was animatedly talking about a new comic she’d found. “You won’t believe this,” she said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “but this one hero has the power to control weather. I’m telling you, if I had that power, I’d totally make it sunny all the time.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like you’ve been reading too many comics. But I suppose a bit of sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”
Ellie grinned, grabbing a bite of her sandwich. “True, true. But, seriously, how are things going with Joel? You two seem... really happy.”
You smiled, feeling a warm flush at her question. “We are. It’s been nice, spending time together. He’s been really supportive, and I think we’re figuring things out.”
Ellie’s eyes lit up, clearly pleased with your answer. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s been a lot happier since you two started spending more time together. It’s like he’s found a new spark.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “It’s been good for both of us. We’re still taking things one step at a time, but it feels right.”
Ellie’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know it’s been rough with everything that’s happened, but it’s nice to see people finding happiness again. Especially you and Joel.”
You appreciated Ellie’s support and her ability to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Ellie. That means a lot.”
Ellie glanced around the dining hall, then back at you with a mischievous grin. “So, are you guys planning any big adventures together? Or just sticking to the small stuff for now?”
You laughed softly. “We’re sticking to the small stuff for now. Just enjoying the moments, we have together.” You paused, “I’m still a little bit scared of him waking up hating me again.”
Ellie’s eyes softened with understanding. “I get that. It’s natural to be scared after everything you’ve both been through. But you’re doing great, and Joel is different now. He’s not going to just wake up one day and hate you.”
You sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering concern in your expression. “I hope you’re right. Sometimes, it’s hard to shake that fear, especially after everything that’s happened.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully. “I think you both just need to keep talking and being honest with each other. The more you communicate, the more you’ll build that trust. And remember, it’s okay to have those fears. It just means you care.”
You managed a small smile. “Thanks, Ellie. It’s reassuring to hear that.”
Ellie grinned and took a bite of her lunch. “Anytime. And if you ever need someone to talk to or just need a distraction, you know I’m here. We can have a comic marathon or something.”
You laughed, feeling the warmth of Ellie’s support. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
As you and Ellie finished your lunch, you stood up to clear your plates, the conversation easing into a comfortable silence. Just as you were about to head to the serving area, you suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a warm embrace. A soft, affectionate kiss was placed on your cheek, making you feel a surge of happiness and surprise.
You turned your head slightly, finding Joel’s smiling face close to yours. “Hey there,” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to steal a moment with you.”
Ellie watched with a grin, clearly pleased with the sight. “Looks like someone’s got a fan club.”
You blushed slightly, leaning into Joel’s embrace. “Hi, Joel. I was just catching up with Ellie.”
Joel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your side. “I figured I’d come and see how you were doing. Plus, I wanted to see if you’d be up for a walk later.”
You smiled, feeling content in his arms. “A walk sounds nice. I’d love that.”
Joel nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Great. Let’s finish up here and head out.”
You and Joel exchanged a tender glance before you both started to clear your plates. Ellie gave you both a playful nudge. “I’ll leave you two to your walk. Enjoy, and remember, I’m always here if you need me.”
+++++++++++++
“So?” you asked, as Joel was smiling in complete silence.
“So what?” he asked without erasing that smile from his face.
“Aren’t you going to talk?”
Joel chuckled, his smile widening. “I guess I’m just enjoying the moment. It’s not every day I get to be this content.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him. “Oh really? And why’s that?”
He looked at you, his gaze tender. “Because being with you like this, just walking and talking, it’s exactly what I’ve wanted. It’s simple and perfect.”
You smiled, feeling a warm glow from his words. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. So, what’s on your mind?”
Joel glanced around, taking in the scenery before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking about how nice would be if you go to my place tonight. Ellie’s gonna spend the night with Dina and I want to spend the night with you.”
“That sounds wonderful,” you said with a smile. “I’d love to spend the night with you.”
Joel’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and he took your hand, gently squeezing it. “Great. I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned and kiss you on the lips, “No I gotta go helping Tommy, see you later, sunshine”
You pouted, grabbing his hand before he could go anywhere “Wait? That was all?”
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought I’d surprise you with the invitation, and I wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoy spending time with you.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “Well, I didn’t realize the evening was just an invitation and a kiss goodbye.”
Joel grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright. If you want more, I guess I’ll have to come up with something better.” He pulled you into another kiss, this one longer and more lingering.
You smiled against his lips as you pulled away. “That’s more like it. But seriously, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face gently. “I’m looking forward to it too. Just had to help Tommy out with something. I promise, I’ll make up for it.”
You nodded, still holding onto his hand. “I’ll hold you to that. See you later, Joel.”
He gave you one last smile before heading out, leaving you with a warm feeling and the anticipation of the evening ahead.
+++++++++++++
When you arrived at Joel's place, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the surroundings. Joel greeted you at the door with a welcoming smile and a quick, affectionate kiss.
"Hey, glad you could make it," he said, taking your coat and hanging it up. "I’ve got a few things planned, but we can start with something simple if you’d like."
You stepped inside, feeling the comforting familiarity of Joel’s home. “I’m sure whatever you’ve got planned will be perfect,” you replied, smiling at him.
Joel led you into the living room, where he’d set up a cozy area with blankets and cushions. The room was softly lit by lamps, and the atmosphere was inviting and warm. A few candles were flickering on the coffee table, casting a gentle glow.
“I figured we could start with some dinner and then maybe just talk or something else” Joel suggested, his eyes reflecting the soft light.
You nodded, feeling content with the simple but thoughtful setup. “That sounds great.”
Joel moved to the kitchen and returned shortly with a plate of homemade food—something comforting and hearty. He set it down on the table, then joined you on the couch.
As you both ate, the conversation flowed easily, just like it had during your earlier moments together. You talked about your days, your plans, and even some light-hearted topics. Joel’s presence was reassuring, and you felt completely at ease.
After dinner, Joel suggested putting on some music. He rummaged through his collection, finally settling on a classic that he thought you’d enjoy. You both snuggled up under the blankets, the music playing softly in the background.
Joel occasionally glanced at you, his hand resting casually on your knee. The song played, but most of your attention was focused on the comfort of being next to him, the warmth of his touch, and the quiet contentment that filled the room.
Joel turned to you, his gaze tender. “You know, I’m really glad we’re doing this. Just being here with you, it feels right.”
You smiled, leaning into him. “I feel the same way.”
Joel’s hand moved to gently brush your hair back from your face. “What’s your biggest fear?” he asked out of the blue?
You sighed, leaving his gaze for a moment “You waking up and forgetting you love me”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly at your answer, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. “Why would you think that? I don’t see any reason why that would happen.”
You took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as you shared your fear. “It’s just….you knew I told you we didn’t get along before, in fact you hated me, Joel.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he listened to your concern. He took a moment before responding, his voice steady and reassuring. “I know things weren’t easy between us before. And yeah, I didn’t handle things the best way back then. But that’s in the past. What matters now is how we are right now.”
He reached out and gently took your hand in his. “The truth is, I’ve changed. And I see you differently now. I see you for who you are, and I realize how much you mean to me. Whatever those old feelings were? They’re gone. What we have now is real, and I’m committed to it.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. “But what if one day you wake up and those old feelings come back? What if something changes?”
Joel shook his head, his gaze intense and full of conviction. “I don’t believe that’ll happen. I’ve come to understand how much you mean to me, and how deeply I care about you.”
He squeezed your hand gently, his expression earnest. “I’m not going to let those fears control us. We’re building something strong, and I want to keep building it with you. I’m here, and I’m committed to making sure we have a future together.”
You felt a wave of relief and warmth at his words. “Thank you, Joel. That really means a lot to me.”
Joel smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m glad. And if you ever need reassurance, just ask. I’m always here to remind you of how much you mean to me.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of comfort and closeness. The fears that had been troubling you began to fade as you focused on the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice.
Joel’s gaze lingered on yours, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and resolve. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a careful exploration of newfound trust and affection.
As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, conveying all the emotions and reassurances that words alone couldn’t fully capture. Joel’s hand cupped your face, his touch warm and reassuring as he pressed closer.
You responded to the kiss, your own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kiss felt like a promise, a shared understanding of where you both stood and where you hoped to go.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads touching as you gazed into each other’s eyes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment of closeness.
Joel’s smile was soft, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I needed to do that. To show you just how much you mean to me.”
You smiled back, your heart full. “I needed that too.”
Joel gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.
After that, everything happened in a flash. Neither of you realized when you removed your clothes, but there was too much desperation in your touch; you wanted to discover how his fingers could leave a mark on you, tracing invisible lines across your body.
He kissed you again, slipping his tongue past your lips, gasping when he felt your fingers running your fingertips across his bare chest, tracing the lines of a map leading to where you couldn’t stop.
With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold you against your lips again. Once you tasted them, you couldn’t get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldn’t get over the whimpers he left in your mouth.
He was hovering over you, giving you a passionate kiss. He was between your legs, exactly where you wanted him.
He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at you. To appreciate the features of your face and the nature of your body to admire the features of your face, and the nature of your body being displayed just for him right now. You felt the crimson color rushing up to your checks and for a moment you felt embarrassed under his stare, but he smiled at you.
“You look beautiful”. He swallowed hard, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
His hands on your tights only increased the sparks in the place you wanted him the most, you wanted to follow the path even when you knew it was leading to a treacherous destination.
You continued kissing slowly as he caressed your thighs with his gently touch, as he wanted to worship your body and devour every single sound coming out from your mouth. He kissed you down over your neck, kissing, nipping your skin between his teeth.
And God, he loved the way you were making him feel. The fact this time was different to everything you had experiencing before. At this moment, you weren’t driving for only passionate reasons, but for caring feelings for each other. You weren’t in a rush and that turned him on. He was hard for you and he wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.
This time he was making love because he had drowned himself on your religion.
Both of you gasped aloud the moment he began to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours, interlocking them as he kissed you softly, muttering, "You're so beautiful like this". He was mesmerized by the way you were nervously giggling and cocking your head back in delight. He bit your neck, prompting your hands to move up to his neck, and his hands ran down your entire body without a layer of clothing on you, focusing on every thrust and diving deep to ensure he was making you happy.
You opened your eyes and stared back at him, entirely focused on you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as his hands massaged your breasts while he continued to devour your lips. Your back arched, followed by a moan against his lips. Every thrust felt so fantastic, you couldn't help but think you were in the celestial realm You could tell you were getting closer as you squeezed him and kept your gaze fixed on each other. He pushed harder, one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping your knee to guarantee you fell apart.
The noises you made drove him insane, as he felt himself reaching the edge of the cliff. He wanted to stare at you under him as you came and with a loud gasp, he did it at the same time falling over your exposed chest, your heartbeats mingling.
You moaned softly beneath him, and Joel raised his head to look at you, flashing him a cute smile he hadn't tired of, as you kissed him on the lips.
"I love you so much," he replied, gazing at you with admiration. “I’m so in love with you.”
I love you.
I’m so in love with you.
Those three words were echoing in the shadows of your mind. Your expression softened and you felt your blood rushing. You were sure they had had an impact on you.
“And I love you so much” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your emotion.
Joel’s expression softened even further, and he brushed a tender kiss against your lips once more. The connection between you was undeniable, a blend of passion and deep affection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you. The world outside seemed distant and unimportant in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, everything felt perfect, and you allowed yourself to fully embrace the love and happiness you had found with Joel.
Joel gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
You nodded, your eyes closing as you savored the moment. “Yeah, we have. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Joel’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Neither would I. Here’s to more moments like this, and to whatever the future holds for us.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment and anticipation for what was to come. “To us,” you agreed, your heart full of love and hope.
+++++++++++
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred, waking up with a smile on your face. The previous night’s intimacy and love still lingered, and you turned to look at Joel. He was sleeping peacefully beside you, a contented expression on his face.
As you watched him, you felt a surge of happiness and affection. You reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart full of love for him.
But as Joel’s eyes fluttered open and he met your gaze, his expression shifted dramatically. His sparkly brown eyes filled with love, widened in horror, and a look of confusion and fear crossed his face. He pushed himself up, scrambling back slightly.
“What...What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and fear.
You were taken aback, your smile faltering as you tried to make sense of his reaction. “Joel, what’s wrong?”
No. It couldn’t be that, right?
Joel’s eyes were filled with a pained realization. “Oh my god, you came to my house trying to seduce me into sleeping with you?”
You felt a sharp pang of pain at his words, and your heart dropped. The warmth you had felt earlier was replaced by a cold, unsettling feeling.
“No, Joel, that’s not what happened,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “We’re in love”
He chuckled. “In love? Me in love with you? I could never” he said.
Your chest tightened, and the hurt in Joel’s words felt like a physical blow. You struggled to keep your composure, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Joel, you can’t mean that,” you said, your voice shaking. “Last night, you said you loved me. We shared something real.”
Joel’s expression was a mix of confusion and pain. “I don’t remember saying that. Last night I was with Lori”
That’s it. You were back at were you used to be.
The weight of Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of betrayal and heartache, as the realization sank in. The warmth and affection from the night before felt like a cruel illusion.
“So, what? You’re saying last night meant nothing?” you asked. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. “You really don’t remember? You don’t remember how we talked, how you told me you loved me?”
“I don’t love you.” He said, sternly.
“But I’m your sunshine” you sobbed.
Joel’s laughter pierced through you like a blade, and you could barely stand the weight of the realization. Each word he spoke seemed to tear away at the fabric of your heart, unraveling the dream you’d clung to so desperately.
The room felt colder, the air heavier, as you fought to control your sobs. Every touch, every shared moment that had once seemed so real was now reduced to nothing more than painful echoes of a memory that never truly existed.
He didn’t remember the stealing glances, the kisses, the touches and the promises than now seemed to fade with the cruel destiny meeting the ending meant to be.
You had taken a risk at falling in love with the version of a Joel who loved you back, and he didn’t exist anymore. He had faded just when he had told you he loved you.
He didn’t remember falling in love with you, he didn’t remember all the time you spent together, and he didn’t remember loving you, but you didn’t think this would hurt this much.
“Joel” you said, pleading him to remember.
“Out.” He said, gritting his teeth.  
You stood there, the pain in your chest almost unbearable, as Joel's harsh words echoed around you. The warmth and affection you had shared just hours before now seemed like a cruel illusion, shattered by his denial.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice trembling. "Just think about everything we shared. It was real."
Joel’s eyes were hard, and he crossed his arms defensively. “I don't remember any of it. And I can't fake feelings I don't have.”
You felt a deep, profound sadness, the weight of his words making it almost impossible to breathe. The life you had envisioned, the love you had felt, seemed to slip away like sand through your fingers.
“Please, just—” you tried to reason with him, but the look in his eyes made it clear that any further pleading was futile.
Joel’s expression remained firm, a mix of regret and frustration. “Everything I know is that you took advantage of me.”
The sting of Joel's words cut deep, each one echoing the finality of a dream you had cherished. The accusation of taking advantage of him felt like a betrayal, intensifying the emotional agony you were already struggling with.
You took a shaky breath, trying to hold onto the fragments of your composure. "Joel, I never did that. We have something—"
Joel interrupted; his voice cold. "I don’t want to hear it. You need to leave. Now."
The finality in his tone left no room for argument. With a heart heavy with sorrow, you nodded, unable to find the words that might change his mind.
You were only on one of his shirts, trying to find your clothes.
You stumbled through the room, your movements disjointed as you searched for your clothes. The pain and confusion made every action feel like an immense effort. Joel’s gaze remained fixed on you, his face a mask of distant resolve.
You found your jeans, but it was crumpled and stained, and you struggled to put it on with trembling hands. The fabric felt rough against your skin, a stark contrast to the comfort you had felt just hours before. You glanced around for your other belongings, the room now feeling foreign and unwelcoming.
“I... I can’t find my blouse,” you said again, your voice a whisper filled with desperation and trembling.
Joel’s eyes flicked to you briefly before he spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. “Don’t worry about it. Just wear my shirt. I won’t wear it again.” His voice was cold and icy, not more softness as when they used to whisper things on your ear.
The coldness in his words made it clear that there was no room for negotiation or further conversation. You nodded numbly, the shirt you were already wearing now feeling like a heavy shroud setting your skin on fire.
As you finished dressing, you glanced around the room one last time, trying to memorize the space you were leaving behind. The sight of the room, so filled with the promise you fooled yourself onto believing.
There was an intensified the ache in your chest.
Joel stood by the door, his posture rigid as if he were bracing himself for something. His eyes didn’t meet yours, focusing instead on some distant point. The silence between you was heavy with the weight of the broken bond that never existed.
As you pulled on your shoes, your heart cracked completely sank in deeper. You looked up, meeting Joel’s eyes one last time.
“Joel, I’m sorry for everything,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never meant to cause any harm. I just wanted—”
Joel cut you off with a slight nod, his face still set in a hard expression. “Just go. Please.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost making it impossible to speak. The intensity of Joel's gaze, filled with a mixture of pain and indifference, made it clear that any further words would be futile.
With one last, lingering look at him and the room that just yesterday had witnessed three empty words that now didn’t meant anything, you turned and made your way down the hall. Each step felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders, even as the burden of what you were leaving behind pressed heavily on your heart.
As you reached the front door, the cool morning air hit you, providing a stark contrast to the warmth you had felt just hours before. The quiet outside was a jarring reminder of the world that continued, indifferent to the personal turmoil you were experiencing.
With every step, you tried to reconcile the reality you faced with the memories of what you had thought was true, a momentary field of dreams. The pain was sharp and immediate. How would you continue life after losing another love?
+++++++
2K notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 10 months
Text
WANTED U
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18 + / mdi
summary: everything about your relationship with minghao was perfect, leaving you with no complaints. except maybe in one area: minghao's stoic attitude during sex, making you entirely insecure about whether he wanted you as bad as you did him, or if he was maybe just too in love with you to let you down.
content: misunderstandings, established relationship, he's very very in love with reader, he's just a bit backwards, smut, afab reader, miscommunication (shocker), oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, dry humping, mentions of fingering, etc.
wc: 5.7k
a/n: based kind of maybe a lil bit on personal experience but 100% reimagined for fanfic purposes lmao
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one-time tip! <3
You were absolutely head over heels in love with your boyfriend. There was no way to fight it - not that you wanted to. It was as if his sole goal in life was to love you. He had even told you that before, claiming that his parents had been the greatest love story he had ever seen, and that he had wanted nothing more in life than to find a love like theirs. He'd said that his father had once told him, 'live to love, and love to live', advice which Minghao took to heart.
His father was a wise man when it came to love, even letting Minghao in on the secret that all his ambitions were driven by his love for his mother. Minghao had communicated their entire love story to you soon after meeting. You had only known each other for a short period of time before Minghao confessed to you, claiming that a friendship would not suffice for his heart, which had been taken by you upon your first meeting. He would've respected your decision if you had decided to remain friends, but was relieved to hear your enthusiastic agreement in becoming his girlfriend.
Being his girlfriend came with endless perks. For one, you got to be with the absolute love of your life; a man who was never shy to express his love to you through any means possible. He was also a successful idol, something that came with its troubles, but allowed you to see and support your boyfriend in all his passionate endeavors. He'd spend every free moment tending to you and showing you what it meant to be loved. There was no world in which you weren't completely enamored by the man.
You'd only been dating for four months by now. He had already introduced you to his friends and family, proudly letting them know that you'd be around for a long time, being completely certain that you were the love of his life. Sure, it might've been a bit soon, but the moment Minghao saw you, he knew you were the one. His certainty always made you a bit shy, a reaction which he'd kiss away by reassuring you that he'd never meet a love greater than yours. It was all perfect. You felt at home with his friends and family, quickly growing used to what would now be your forever family, as you also believed Minghao to be the one and only love you would ever come to know.
He showed you love through every means possible. He insisted on taking care of you financially, while also supporting your independent and professional endeavors. He took care of you emotionally, always lending an ear to listen to your problems and lips to soothe your worries. He'd constantly feed you with words of affirmation, almost as if he'd grow sick if he went a single day without you knowing how enamored he was. He'd make love to you ... and that was it on that matter.
Not to misunderstand, your sex life with Minghao was magnificent. There was no form of pleasure the man could not achieve to give you. He had you delirious with arousal with one single touch, making you beg even when he never demanded it from you. As many of his fans guessed, Minghao was just as experienced as he appeared. There was large variety of things he would entertain in the bedroom, never leaving you dissatisfied.
The issue laid in you, truly. Although you were always enthusiastic in the pleasure your boyfriend gave you, you weren't sure you could say it was the same for him. He would always shower you with endless praise and affection in every other circumstance, but while in the throes of passion the most you could really get out of him was a few muffled groans or one or two short-lived praises. You felt as if there was a imbalance in the pleasure you gave one another; almost as if he didn't want you as much as you did him.
You had recently realized that you were often the one to begin any sexual encounter, never having to beg for reciprocation, but also very rarely being enticed by the man himself. You almost felt embarrassed at the realization, having already been feeling a bit off at his lack of reactions towards you during the fact. Was he simply entertaining you out of pity? Did it not feel as good for him? Was he not into you physically as he was emotionally? You knew he always came when being intimate with you, always letting out a lone groan of your name when he finished. It was still hard to feel confident about your sex appeal when your boyfriend never gave you much to work with. You also felt a bit pathetic knowing he gave you the utmost pleasure while you seemingly gave him the barest minimum of it.
Talking to him about it was out of the question. You knew your boyfriend thrived off of healthy communication, but he hadn't mentioned any issues in your sex life, so you felt embarrassed to bring it up. Not only that, but you didn't want to come off as desperate or ungrateful. He was your best friend; the perfect boyfriend. You didn't want to open a can of worms that would have things go awry. So you decided to come up with a plan; maybe test your hypothesis.
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Getting Minghao undressed and ready to fuck you was never too difficult. Just a few kisses and whispers asking him to please take care of you and he was ready to take charge. Currently you were in the middle of it, sitting on the couch as he kissed your neck, pulling breathy sighs out of you as you moaned his name, but received no reaction in return. You decided to act as usual, maybe gauge what got him going and what didn't. So far, he had spoken no words as he simply did what he knew you liked. He ran his hands through your body and kissed you deeply, drawing moans and whines out of you at the simplest of touches.
You felt a bit embarrassed, realizing how easy it was for him to get you going while it was the complete opposite for him. Now on the bed, he ground against you, still making no sound or any other indication of pleasure as he thrusted his hardness against you. You wondered how that felt for him. He was hard, so surely he was aroused, right? Shouldn't that equal some type of pleasurable reaction to the feeling? You weren't able to ponder on this for long, as he suddenly knelt next to bed, going straight to business against your heat.
"H-hao ... fuck!", you pulled at his hair, extremely sensitive to his touch as you usually were.
You couldn't help yourself in pulling at his hair, even grinding against his skilled tongue. You were completely lost to the bliss, moaning endlessly at the pleasure, unlike your boyfriend, whose only sounds were the slick of his tongue dragging against your pussy. If the tables were turned and Minghao was growing delirious on the feeling of your mouth on him, you'd be just as affected, getting off on the sound of his voice moaning out your name. So, you couldn't help but still feel disappointed at him eating you out with no further reaction.
However, the feeling of your orgasm overtook your disappointment, making you forget about any ill feelings and cumming against his tongue. What followed made you hollow out again, though.
He got up from his knelt position, nodding at you and asking a simple, "ready?" before undoing his pants and climbing on top of you, entering you immediately after putting on a condom.
You moaned and whined against his ear, scratching at his back at the pleasure; all things you usually did when he fucked you, but received no reaction in return. He'd give you the occasional muffled grunt, not even seeming like he was holding back, but more like he had nothing to give. It was a conflicting feeling. On one hand, you felt an insane amount of physical pleasure, but on the other, your emotions couldn't help but feel hurt by his lack of arousal towards you. Call you shallow, but you just wanted to feel like your boyfriend found you sexy, damnit!
"F-fuck, Hao! Gonna cum, don't stop. Shit!", it was easy for him to get you there, knowing all your weak spots by now. And it was just as easy for your body to take control of your mind, making you forget all worries as you came once again. He didn't take long to reach you, releasing into the condom with a grunt.
What made it worse was how sweet he was afterwards, calling you his beautiful girl and helping you clean up, only to cuddle you afterwards.
"You okay, my love? Felt good?"
Now, to any reasonable person, this would've been the perfect chance to speak up, maybe let him know about your concerns, but you just felt too pathetic. What were you supposed to do? Force your boyfriend to moan? Force him to give you the reactions you wanted rather than the ones that came naturally from him? You were supposed to accept him as he was, just like he did you. So, you responded with evasion.
"Yes, baby. Felt amazing. Love you."
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You decided to go for a different approach this time.
Within the few months that you and Minghao had dated, you had really only spent a little under two months physically around each other. His job had a tendency of pulling him away from you for extended periods of time, so you were lucky if you ever got a whole week with him. This meant that the two of you would always try to make the best of the time you did get to spend together.
Within those two months of physical proximity, you two had a healthy sex life. You had sex for the first time only two weeks into the relationship, then proceeding to have it very regularly after that. Although, you were usually the one to initiate it.
In order to change things up, you decided to stop. You wanted to see how long it would take Minghao to approach you himself. Maybe gauge what it'd be like if you suddenly took it away. Would he react then? Would it feel better for him if you allowed a short period of time for things to mellow out?
The answer was no.
Only three days after your previous time having sex, he came home from dance practice, greeting you with a kiss. Except that instead of pulling away, he kept your lips connected, grabbing onto your waist to pull you close to him. Things went pretty much as usual after that. No words were exchanged (at least not from his side of things) as he undressed you and entered you while laying on the couch.
It was insanely pleasurable as per usual. His pace was slower than normal, and you heard a few more muffled grunts, which excited you like crazy.
"H-hao ..." you couldnt help but sigh as he angled himself perfectly to hit that sensitive spot inside you. You scratched at his back, arching your back against his chest.
He made no response, only going faster as he clearly realized your end was coming. He held you close to him, caressing your body tenderly despite the rapid movement of his hips. It was all perfect, sans the thing you wanted most; his lust for you. He cleaned you up afterwards, sheepishly apologizing for jumping you with no warning, giving you a quick peck as he said it. The conversation regarding sex ended there, with him expanding about his day and you yours. Had this been progress? You weren't sure.
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Next attempt felt a bit pathetic.
You looked amazing. You needed no confirmation, you just knew it. You had bought a pretty lacy number, exactly in a style you knew your boyfriend would like. You hadn't had a chance so far to really dress up for him yet. So far, you had worn pretty panties and matching bras while being sexually active with him, but there had been no instance in which you really pulled out a whole set for him.
It felt a bit silly, resorting to perfectly trimmed lace in order to see if maybe your boyfriend would show some lust towards you. You even lit some candles, for god's sakes. This had to work, or else you'd feel like the biggest loser alive. You were a bit anxious, to be honest. You had never dressed up for a guy, but you'd heard it worked wonders in the bedroom. You knew the sex itself would be amazing, but you hoped that everything else also lived up to standard.
It wasn't long until you heard the keys unlock the door, which signaled that you should put into position. You had a matching silk robe, throwing it on as if to hide Hao's gift under a perfectly tied knot. He hadn't noticed you upon entering the room, having to do a double take to take notice of your pretty hair and makeup, way too fancy for an usual occasion.
"Love? W-what's with the look? You look beautiful," he approached you with a sweet smile, arms going directly to your waist
"Just wanted to do a little something for you, Hao. Do you like it?"
"Of course, angel. You look so pretty. Is there anything under the robe?", he lifted his eyebrow at you, hands playing with the knot.
"Find out?", you wanted to give him free rein, wanting to once more gauge his reaction. This was all for research purposes, after all.
"Oh ... Baby, you didn't have to do this ... You look gorgeous ..." he breathed out upon undoing the tie on the robe, immediately pushing it off as he ran his hands up and down your body. Yes, this was a good start. An amazing start, actually. He wanted you? That had been just your goal. His breathy sigh? God, that had you reeling.
He seemed to get distracted by the sight of your body being hugged by the expensive fabric, but eventually snapped out of it, shaking his head as if to get himself out of a trance. He kissed you after that, no longer paying any mind to the lingerie, nor to his previous reaction to you. He kissed and kissed you, same as he always did. Your moans against his lips fell to deaf ears, as he did not reciprocate with more moans of his own. You kissed him back, unable to not match his enthusiasm in making love to your lips.
What had just happened? You were going in the right track! He had suddenly just snapped himself out of it, basically willing the lust away. Had he wanted to hold back on purpose? Did you just need to incite him?
You let him kiss you for a while before gesturing for him to kiss down your neck, playing up your moans a bit and pushing your chest towards him. Eventually you placed his hands on your chest, now being a bit more direct.
"H-hao ... Do you like it? Did I do good?", okay, now you were a bit more embarrassed. You had never really delved into dirty talk with Minghao, much less submissive speech. There had never been a need since the man had no tendency to speak during sex at all - sans the times he'd check up on you. You hoped maybe he would react well to it.
"Yes, angel. You're perfect. Let me take care of you now, yeah?"
That was code for be quiet and let me get to business. Or at least that's how you took it. You were disheartened, but allowed him to continue, still enjoying his touch regardless of anything. You appreciated the compliments, but you did not feel sexy anymore. What you were feeling could better be described as childish and dejected. You felt like you'd shown a desperate side of yourself only to be met with nothing in return.
Your thoughts faded away the moment he began to drag his thigh between your legs, quickly drawing moans and cries of his name out of you. Was it that hard for him to do the same? What more did you need to do?
Logically, it didn't take him long to make you cum. You came in your lace panties, still earning a groan out of him upon feeling your cunt spasm against his bare thigh.
"Hmm, baby. Looked so pretty today ... Are you okay? Need me to clean you up?", he gave you a sweet kiss, running his hands up and down your sides in a caring manner.
"I'm fine, Hao, thank you. I, uh, what about you? Are you ... ?"
"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry about it," he smiled at you despite the obvious boner concealed by his shorts, "Get changed, angel. You'll get sticky and cold."
And that was it once again. Your outfit had given you a favorable reaction, but it died off quicker than you expected. You were back to square one all over again.
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You had one final plan. If this didn't give you answers, you weren't sure how to proceed from there.
What if you pulled a 'Minghao' on Minhhao? Would he react if you suddenly became stoic while in his arms? It felt disingenuous, and the mere thought honestly made you feel a little mean, but you had grown desperate by now. It had been months of amazing sex that you were sure was gratifying only to you.
Next time you and Minghao found yourselves in that mood, you decided to lay pliant in his arms; not react to his touches and movements the way you usually would.
It was weird, not letting him know how much you loved his touch. You kissed him back, even held him back too, but your mouth was silent, as was your body. He kissed down your neck, soft hands touching at every corner that usually had your eyes rolling back, but you persisted. There were no reactions out of you, only muffled groans just like his own. You felt some hesitance in his touches, sometimes pausing as he didn't get the desired effect from his actions. He didn't vocalize his concerns, however, only continuing his path as he fingered you. His lips never left your skin as he worked you through your first orgasm.
It had been a feat, truly. The feeling of his lips against your skin was enough to have you mewling for more. His fingers curling inside you usually had you whining his name, but this time the most you could allow yourself to muster was muffled or broken cries as he drew you to completion. Even then he didn't question you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion with the question trapped between his lips. He moved on to undo his pants, prepping you a bit before sliding inside you. He let out the lone moan he always did upon sliding through you, but made no further noise.
You were going insane, toes curling and body completely tense, trying your hardest not to react. It wasn't just the pleasure, but your intense feelings for the man. The way he felt against you and gave you all his love through his touch. You felt like crying at the thought. Which is what you did without realizing. You couldn't help yourself. The love you had for your boyfriend was indescribable, even if you had been dating for so little. He felt the same, which was something he'd always let you know on the tender nights you'd spend sleeping in each other's arms. Right now, though, you felt like shit. It was hard for you to even enjoy his touch, which was a new experience for you.
Minghao must've noticed your cries, which had been louder than you realized, instantly halting his movements and checking on you.
"Angel? My love, what's wrong? Are you hurt?", he pulled away completely, still keeping his arms at your sides in an attempt to soothe you, but pulling his still hard cock out of you.
The sudden lack of proximity only made you cry louder, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath.
"Baby, tell me what's wrong, please. I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to hurt you. Where does it hurt. How can I make it better?"
"Why- why don't you want me?", the question left your lips before you even realized, face heating up at your own words.
"What? Want you? What do you mean?"
There was still time to run it back, maybe make some type of excuse about why you'd been crying. But your emotions decided for you, not allowing your brain to formulate a lie before your mouth was opening again.
You took a quick breather, allowing yourself to catch your breath before responding. Minghao seemed to understand this, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner.
"I just ... I just don't understand. I love you, Minghao. I love you so much. I want you so much. Why don't you want me back? What do I need to do? I cant ... I can't keep doing this," you had stopped crying by then, but your emotions were still heightened.
"Love? I love you. What are you talking about? I'm in love with you, you know this. Please tell me what you mean? Tell me if you're hurt. I can't- I'd never want to hurt you."
He was now sitting right by you, your legs now closer while his hand came up to your cheek, wiping one of the last few tears remaining on your face. It made you feel like an asshole. He was being the amazing boyfriend you always knew him to be, reassuring you of bis affections while being worried for your wellbeing, not once stopping to care about himself. Meanwhile, you were crying because you wanted your boyfriend to feel lust for you. It was pathetic, really.
"I know you love me, Hao. You're the perfect boyfriend. I'm okay, I just ... fuck. I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry. I don't want you to worry about me, it's so stupid, I'm sorry, I-"
"Angel, please stop apologizing. Tell me what's wrong. You don't have to be embarrassed. I need to know what you're thinking so that we can talk through it, okay? I'd never judge you," he was sincere in his words, taking on a soft smile as he tried to welcome the idea of an open conversation about whatever was on your mind. It was now or never, you guessed.
You took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact at all costs, "I feel like ... I feel like you don't want me."
"Want you how, angel?"
"I've tried everything Minghao. I've pursued you, I've let you pursue me, I've been loud, I've been quiet. Fuck, I even threw myself at you with stupid lingerie that you didn't even care about, but it never works. You don't want me, and it's driving me insane. I'm sorry, I know it's so stupid. I don't want to- I don't want to force anything on you or make you feel uncomfortable, but I feel so, fuck, I feel so pathetic. Like you have sex with me just to humor me. Like you're giving me something and I have nothing to show in return. I'm so- I'm so sorry."
You weren't sure what you were apologizing for. It was either the embarrassment or the warm gaze that wouldn't leave your own as you rambled.
"My love ... You think- you think I don't want you?"
"You don't have to humor me, Minghao, I already know. I've made peace with it, it's just .. tonight was too much. I tried to keep my emotions out of it, but it only made me break faster."
"Oh, angel," he closed the gap, pulling you even closer to him as he put his palms on your cheeks, drawing you closer while looking into your eyes, thumbs caressing the skin there, "I think I owe you an apology."
"No!", you grabbed onto his wrists, interrupting him before he could continue and separating yourself in the same breath, knowing you could never speak your mind while he held you so lovingly, "You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm sorry. I should've never tried to pressure you, I did this to myself, I-"
"I need you to let me talk, angel, please. I need to explain myself."
"Oh. I- okay. Continue."
"I adore you, my love. You know this. To think that you could ever think I don't want you breaks my heart. It's all my fault, I should've never done this, I- I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I don't ache for you the way you do me. I want you in ways I can't describe."
"But-"
"Let me finish," his hands were back on you, one caressing your cheek while the other ran up and down your arm in an almost sensual manner, "You think I don't think about you every passing moment? That you don't plague my thoughts every day? My beautiful girl ... You're the prettiest thing I've ever had. Holding you in my arms as you writhe under me is the biggest form of pleasure I've ever felt. You- you think-" he took a deep breath before continuing, "You think I don't think about you on my lonely nights away from your touch? That I don't touch myself thinking of you; your curves, your soft skin, the way you cry my name ..."
"H-hao ..." your breath was just as heavy as his by now, mouth dry as you heard him recite his one and every emotion towards you.
"You think you don't plague my mind at the most inopportune moments?", he continued despite your interruption, "I think of you every day. When I'm at practice, when I'm performing, fuck, I think of you when I'm having dinner with my parents. Your body invades my every thought. You beautiful, gorgeous thing. I ... I've had to hold back. Didn't want to scare you away with the impossible lust I feel for you. Every time you let me have you, I have to hold back. I can never fully have you. I don't know what it'd do to me. I've wanted you from the moment we met. I've wanted to explore every inch of your body and make you mine. But your pleasure is my main priority. Always. As long as you're satisfied, I could never ask for more. But to think you ever believed I didn't want ache for you every passing moment pains me. I ... I want to .. Can I show you? Will you let me show you how badly I need you?"
"Please .. Fuck, Hao, please, I-"
He moaned the moment he finally connected your lips, hands going crazy at the way he squeezed and caressed every inch he could reach. His moans against your lips did not halt as you whined desperately at his kiss, relishing in the speech he had just delivered to you. What you were feeling was beyond lust at this point. You felt something you had never before, having waited months for your boyfriend to finally want you the way you did him. You weren't sure if he was playing it up for you, but you didn't want it to stop regardless.
"My love," he finally disconnected your lips, "Going to give you everything. Everything I've been holding back, I- I don't even know where to start."
His eyes could not stay in one place, darting around every inch of your nude body. You had known Minghao to be attracted to you, it was something he expressed many times, but you had never seen the calm man so frantic before. His calm nature was completely gone.
"You can do anything you want, Hao. Just, please ..."
He shut you up with yet another kiss, laying you down on the bed in the process. He dragged his dick against your cunt, groaning at the feeling. You were still drenched from your ruined orgasm from earlier, and he was hard due to your prior interruption, so it wasn't difficult to get the two of you ready for each other.
"Wanna be in you so badly, but .. Fuck, you just feel so good like this angel," he was grabbing onto your thighs by now, lifting them up in order to angle himself just right to drag his cock right against your clit. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face flushed. He was a broken version of himself, with his only purpose in mind being to bring the two of you the most pleasure imaginable. You felt like an idiot for never expressing your concerns to your boyfriend, not imagining that it'd end up so favorably for you. The pleasure you felt at his lack of self-control as he played with you couldn't compare to any previous time in which you'd made love.
He separated himself from you before either of you could come, muttering something along the lines of 'Wanna savor you, my love.' He still seemed frantic, not fully sure where he wanted to touch first or what part of you to enjoy at that moment. He went from kissing your chest to rubbing your pussy with his long fingers. He put you in all positions he could think of to kiss up and down your body, waxing poetic at you repeatedly as he sighed against your skin. The occasional times in which his cock would accidentally grace against you had you burning, wanting him inside you more than anything. Now that you knew he wanted you just as bad as you did him; now that he was fully yours.
"My beautiful girl ... Love you so much. The pleasure you bring me .. You have no idea. How could I ever let you think I didn't carry a torch for you night after night. Is this okay? Is it okay to want someone this badly? To ache for you day and night, only thinking of your touch?," he was finally facing you again, close enough to invade all your senses.
"Gonna have you now, okay, angel? Gonna show you how strongly I feel about you. How you make me lose all my inhibitions."
He entered you with no further warning, letting out the groan he always did, but this time his mouth would not stop running, moaning and sighing your name against your ear, letting you know how your cunt around him made him lose his mind.
"My most beautiful, girl ... fuck. Gonna break you ... I've held back for too long ... Need you every day," the way he was fucking you was nothing short of animalistic, with both his words and the slapping of your skin filling up the silence of the room.
"God, that day you showed up with that pretty set for me? Do you have any idea how difficult it was to not pin you against the wall and rip it off of you? Make you cry as you took all of me until every single drop of my cum was leaking from your cunt? The image has not left my mind for a single moment, angel. Can't think, shit ... Can't breathe without thinking of you," despite his insane dancer stamina, his breathing was becoming disheveled as he continued to piston into you.
You had thought that Minghao had already given you all types of pleasure throughout your relationship, but now that he had finally snapped you had truly reached heaven. And it seemed like it was the case for him too. He was unable to stop himself from telling you his every thought, with his emotions getting the best of him as he fucked into you almost animalistically. His fingers were bruising your thighs as he held you with all bis might; something you thought your soft and sweet Minghao was incapable of doing.
"Hao ... I need .. I'm gonna cum, Hao, please!"
"Yeah? Gonna let me have it, angel? Love when you cum for me. So soft and pretty, all for me. Cum, my love. Cum and I'll give you all of me in return."
The thought of his cum filling you up made you lose control, cumming as your back arched almost completely off the bed. You felt like you'd ascended, being given the most intense orgasm of your life, followed by a warm feeling inside you; the feeling of Minghao's essence penetrating you.
He almost fell on top of you as he finished, breath hot and heavy against your skin.
"My love? Are you okay? Was that too much?," it only took a few moments of silence for him to speak up, showing immediate concern for your limp and breathless state.
You had been more than okay, having never felt more loved and wanted in your life. From his words to his actions, Minghao had managed to make you realize how wrong you'd been all along. It wasn't that he didn't want you, but that he wanted you too much to hold back if given the chance to fully give himself to you. But now it was all out in the open. Now you could finally enjoy each other to the fullest extent.
"I'm okay, Hao. Thank you," you felt shy in the aftermath of it, now fully processing all the words of lust your boyfriend had whispered against your skin as he fucked you into the mattress. You had seen a side of Minghao you hadn't known existed.
"Are you sure? I didn't scare you off, did I?"
"Are you kidding? I've wanted you to do that for ages. I was going insane throwing myself at you!"
He chuckled, booping at your nose lovingly, "You were making my resolve break, my love. Wasn't sure how much longer I could go without going past my limit."
"Could've talked me through it at least once, you know. I wouldn't've objected," you humphed.
"How about I make up for it now, hmm? Let me clean you up in the shower?"
"Yeah? Gonna tell me how much you want me again?", you grinned against him.
"Yes, my angel. Every single day."
a/n: not proofread and i also had no idea how to end it my bad </3
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prosciuttulipa · 7 months
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Period Pain, Go Away
how the JJK men help you through your period
content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33
a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want
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Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.
Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?
It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."
Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.
The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"
You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"
Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."
He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.
He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."
Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."
When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."
His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.
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merakiui · 9 months
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100%
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, captivity, very vague and slight implications of codependency, angst note - your mobile phone was at 100% when he took you away. with time, the percentage has diminished. so, too, does your hope for a brighter future.
The windowpane is spattered with rain.
Sitting cozy in a cushioned alcove, you watch the droplets slide down in regal rivulets, consolidating to form single streaks. The scenery beyond the window is bleak and dreary—a despondent landscape of gnarled, leafless trees and scratchy brambles stretching towards a dark, dismal sky. Sometimes you liken the rain to tears, wondering if Mother Nature weeps for all creatures or simply for you and your situation. Rare are the days in which the sun shines upon the craggy stone façade of your captor’s castle, and she is as benevolent as she is cruel.
For all of its sumptuous splendor, generational wealth filling the interior with priceless heirlooms and relics, it is an empty, cold structure. You’ve taken to enveloping yourself in thick furs, if only because these furs do not speak like the monster who so humbly offers his embrace. Though you’ve always considered yourself of strong, sturdy mind, your restraint is thinning. As the days pass and you shed clothing sizes like they’re second skins, you find yourself drawn to warmth.
Which is, ironically enough, contradictory to your current temperament. The windows, frigid like the grave, provide solace you cannot find anywhere else—for it is only tender warmth you receive from him. Had he not been so merciful, perhaps it would have been easier to shrink away and truly loathe him with every ounce of your being.
And yet, in order to escape the warmth which enshrouds, you seek the cold, bitter windows and their rain-weary countenance.
Lying beside you on the pillows, snoozing the afternoon away, a calico cat snores idly. She was a gift from him. You were neglectful of your mental health and thus, as per his guard’s suggestion, he sought to find a cat to cure your loneliness and inspire some form of happiness. You appreciate Silver—genuinely, you do—but the good luck a calico brings is not nearly enough to rescue you from captivity.
She was a stray, a scrawny thing with a limp and one bad eye. You took to her right away, scooping her up in your arms and lovingly naming her Cotton. Similarly, she returned your affections, rubbing her head against your palm and purring pleasantly.
Now she likes to nudge the dome that is your stomach, a great, round thing at only six months. Sometimes you think she’s more motherly than you are. You’ve never been able to care for much of anything. Plants wither under your touch, recipes spoil even when you follow them to the letter, and your electronics crack.
Your phone, more fractured than your very heart, is cold in your hands. The screen is blank; it’s dying. It was at 100% before. Now it’s been reduced to a sad 7%. There is no reception or connection to be had in Briar Valley. Your phone, once so powerful and all-knowing, is but a hollow shell. Useless. A digital photo album will expire at its final hour, and there’s no charger. He offered to use his magic to charge it, but he has never known his own strength and you couldn’t risk losing the treasured memories stored within.
Sometimes you’d return to old message logs and read through them. Now you can’t do that, lest you drain the battery quicker than intended.
“So this is where you’ve retreated,” Malleus notes, poking his head around the corner of a towering bookcase. Concern settles on his features. “Are you well? Sebek tells me you were absent for breakfast.” “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, watching his reflection through the stormy glass.
Malleus glances at Cotton and then at your phone as it rests in your clasp. “May I trouble you to eat just a little, if only some fruit?”
“I’m not hungry.” He nods, stalling. “Will you join me for lunch?”
“If I must.”
A small smile lifts his lips. “Are you cold? It can’t be very comfortable to sit there for such a long time. You’ll catch your death.”
“I hope.”
He tuts in disapproval and shrugs out of his cloak, draping it over you even though you’re already wearing a fleece robe. Malleus assesses you with a fleeting once-over.
“It doesn’t hurt to layer. You must understand where I’m coming from, dearest. Extreme temperatures serve to weaken those who are already so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile,” you snap, turning to scowl.
He doesn’t flinch at the heat smoldering in your eyes. “You’re human.”
“How many times did you have to practice that to come to terms with it?”
Malleus’s verdant stare narrows; his frown tightens. “It’s the truth.”
“I didn’t think you’d confront it.”
“I must if I’m to understand…” He exhales through his nose, deflating somewhat. “You’re in fine health. The physician tells me so. There’s no need to worry ourselves with ineffectual what-ifs.”
You turn your gaze on the sprawling forest next, unwilling to discuss the report and its subsequent conclusion: If she remains in good health and follows the recommended diet for an expecting mother, she’ll carry to term.
“My phone is dying, Malleus.”
“Is that not life? Lilia once said so.”
“My pictures… My everything is stored in this phone. It means so much to me.”
“Truly? Is there not a way to make physical copies of these photographs?”
“Unless Briar Valley has the technology to do so…”
“I’m afraid not.”
Malleus takes a daring step closer, endeavoring to comfort you. Cotton cracks her good eye open to peer at him. She hisses low in her throat, a protector standing small against something so tall. Pouting, clearly disheartened, Malleus heeds her warning and chooses to linger just within the bounds she deems acceptable.
“Yeah, that’s what I assumed.”
You heave a dejected sigh, your shoulders drooping. Seeking to cleanse your visual palate, you power the device on. 5% blinks back at you, an insignificant number sitting in a corner that you normally wouldn’t have paid much mind to. Now it weighs heavy, a reminder that the end is encroaching.
“I would’ve liked to keep these photos forever,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Malleus hums his acknowledgement; you think he knows the feeling—or some variant of it, at least. “If I lose these pictures…”
“Do you not have memories?”
“I do, but it isn’t the same. One day I’ll grow old and my memory will be frail. I won’t remember nearly as much as I do now. Those memories will become ghosts and eventually I’ll—”
“You will not.” There’s a finality to the declaration—you won’t leave me; you won’t drain or die like this mobile device.
You rest your head against the window. The cool glass soothes your soul. I wonder what the others are up to right now… You place your hand upon your belly. I wonder if they’d have any good ideas for a name. I’m terrible at naming things. I can never pick something that feels right.
“I’d like to have a funeral for my phone.”
But maybe there is no right thing.
“Of course,” he agrees, perfectly serious. You will have that phone funeral, just as you will have every other request you make—however patently absurd it may seem. (Every other request except for freedom, of course.) “Materials may not have the same worth as a loved one, but the experiences they provide are just as valuable. Surely, no? Otherwise I would not feel so troubled when Roaring Drago…” Pausing to search for the placeholder, Malleus glances at your phone. “Perhaps there is no greater tragedy than existence itself.”
“It’s the most bittersweet burden,” you echo, scrolling through each picture with wistful remembrance. “But then I’d rather know the fleeting frivolity of life than endure hundreds of years of solitude. It makes me appreciate everything that much more.”
You stop at a picture of you and Malleus, a photo snapped by Lilia himself. Part of you often wonders why he chose you—why he adores you to such a degree when you, like everyone else, will inevitably perish. But therein lies the allure: That which is unobtainable is even more tempting. And because there is only one of you, a human destined to one day return to her home world, your very presence is more fleeting than a dream.
To Malleus, who has always dreamt, fond and fervent, of the unobtainable mundanity of normal life, you are a sweet, tangible blessing.
“Horns, do you think I’ll ever get another chance to have my phone at 100%?”
He softens under the nickname. It means more to him than his lofty station. “Would you like to know that joy?”
“It would be nice, yes, but then I’d just get sad when it reaches zero. I guess I should be grateful it’s stayed alive for this long. Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just forget it.”
“Nonsense. There is no such thing.” He reaches to touch your cheek, but Cotton hisses again and so he refrains. She stands on unsteady legs and climbs into your lap, perching awkwardly in spite of your rounded belly. The sight draws a deep chuckle from him. “Your feline friend is quite taken with you.”
“It’s probably because I’m warm. She likes my belly a lot.”
“As do I.”
You roll your eyes.
“Your beauty is most beguiling. There’s a certain radiance to your person. It’s very charming. Do you not agree?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere—definitely not in Cotton’s good graces.”
“I’m simply voicing a fact.”
Your hand slides down from your stomach to pat Cotton. She purrs under your touch, and a weak approximation of a smile tugs at your lips. Amidst all of this sorrow, she is a glimmer of hope. In a way, she’s like you—a stray without a place in this world, snatched from the cobbles she once wandered and confined in a cage of royal opulence. Your similarities are striking, if not immensely devastating.
“Fact or not, I don’t care if I look pretty. It means nothing to me.”
“To be impartial towards appearances… Quite a noble mindset.”
I never once thought you were scary or strange, Horns. Even now.
You look at your phone once more. 3% flickers back.
You’re just lost, and in being lost you found me. But I was also lost. I never even belonged in this world to begin with…
“I’m not going to be a good mother.”
“You can’t know that.” 
“I can’t even take care of myself.”
“I shall care for you when you find yourself unable to.”
“I’d rather you not.”
With Cotton having curled on your lap, slumbering peacefully, Malleus chances to close the gap. His broad frame leans to make up for the difference in height, and he runs cold fingers along your cheek. He brushes away the tears you weren’t even aware you were shedding.
You grip your phone in shaky hands, your shoulders hunched. There’s a piercing ache in your chest, pain stabbing all the way through to your heart. It persists when you power it off, unable to delight in pictorial reminiscence for a moment longer. Silent like death, you sob; seismic dismay shudders through you in waves. Distantly, in a forgotten corner of your brain, you suspect this may be the last time you’ll ever use your phone. The last time you’ll ever look upon the photos you’ve amassed. Photos of friends, class notes, food. Photos snapped by mistake, blurry and unfocused. Photos taken when Ace and Grim stole your phone. Precious memories are preserved within the permanence of a photo album—an album that only remains everlasting so long as you keep your phone charged.
Your final shred of the world beyond Briar Valley vanishes in a blip, leaving you with the dark void that is an empty screen. Brutal is the agony, contorting your face, and you bawl like you’ve just witnessed the end of a life.
In a way, you have. You held it in the palm of your hands, and you watched it wither. Watched the percentages drop through numbers, double digits easing into singles. Watched every week and tried to spare your beloved phone of its fate. Watched and attempted to stall the impossible—a foolish undertaking. This was inevitable; you knew this, and yet you’re still mourning.
Perhaps that is the most tragic facet of existence. From the moment one is born, they are mourning. Humans mourn losing time—of allowing it to slip through their fingers when they should have put it to better use. Humans mourn aging even though it is celebrated yearly. Humans mourn for things that are inhuman—for robots stuck in an endless cycle of some menial task while gears grow rusted and systems shut down or trapped on a distant planet, never to return home. For the fruit that falls from trees and rots, trampled and forgotten. For the endings, good and bad, of novels. For art that will never see the light of day because it has been destroyed or stolen or silenced. For the friends they meet, have met, and will meet.
You mourn because you know it’s impending, and you spend all of your life coming to terms with it, only to break down when it finally happens because the truth of the matter is that you will never be prepared no matter how much you prepare yourself. You mourn because you’re a complex human with complex emotions, surviving in a complex world with millions of intricacies, and the only way to weather misery is to mourn.
To the little life cradled in your womb, who knows not of these difficulties yet, they cannot fathom the anguish that accompanies loss. And right now that is all you can hope for—a life without loss.
But that is impossible because loss is true to everyone’s experience. It is part of existence, and existence is inescapable.
Malleus does not gather you in his arms. He will do so if you ask, and he knows you want to ask, which is precisely why he waits. But you’re stubborn and you refuse to give in to the temptation, let alone grant him the satisfaction. It doesn’t offend him.
The windowpane is spattered with rain. So, too, is your phone, spotted with tears and snot.
Briefly, you wonder if you still look beautiful to Malleus.
Even at your ugliest, he would still cherish you. Desperately, as if he might lose you.
Knowing this does not soften the gutting grief.
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yenqa · 2 months
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OH! MY MISTAKE | where you can’t for the life of you, remember to call kozume by his first name.
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♫ — currently playing... april
warnings – an ankle injury (briefly went over), lmk if theres more!
pairing – kenma x gn!reader
wordcount – 1094
a/n – hi guys !! hope u enjoyy lmk if u do! also this is mot proofread so sorry if its wordy or theres any typos!
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kenma isn’t the kind to make many mistakes.
there are times where he’s bound to make mistakes, like when he’s out of breath and messes up his sets a little, or when he’s been playing a game for too long and too many people are talking and the pixels are moving too fast for his brain.
those are the times where he can make the excuse if that he’s too tired. but even then, he still realizes his mistake.
when you first meet him he can tell you’re the shy type. he’s not stupid after all.
he can see you fidget with anything you can latch you hands on as you're introducing yourself to the team individually.
coach nekomata has that same happy smile that he always displays. he can see you constantly look back at him for reassurance.
when you finally approach him he skips to the most important part. he doesn’t care for the formalities, and he is sure you don't care about the wellbeing of every single person on the team.
“you can just call me by my first name, kenma.”
you were taken aback by his abruptness, you hadn’t even had the opportunity to bow before he introduced himself. his face remained a monotone look, it didn’t seem like he cared for you at all.
“oh—okay! what’s your last name, if you don’t mind me asking?”
he is simply oblivious to you, so he says, “it’s kozume, but i don’t like when people call me it. so kenma is fine with me.”
“it’s nice to meet you, kenma-san. it’s an honor to be the manager this year!” you salute to him, he can sense that every bone of your body is tense, and you’re too nervous for your own good.
“it’s nice meeting you,” he pauses, then adds,”don’t take this position too seriously, you’re new, it’s okay to make mistakes and not know things.”
he figures you’re the type to need reassurance on matters like that, he almost adds that you can come to him for help, but it might’ve come off in a different way. which was the opposite of what he wanted.
a warm smile blesses your face as you nod vigorously, barely getting out a “thank you!” before he walks away.
a small smile adorns his face when he turns around while he’s so blissfully unaware of his fatal mistake.
it’s at the next practice when he first notices it.
he’s out of the locker room first as usual. sliding down the wall, he sits down a foot away from you. you’re focused on something that he isn’t sure what.
you shift in your position, quickly casting a look at him before whipping your head back.
he sees you scribbling hard on the paper, then erasing it even harder. it’s when you let out a sigh when he decides to step in.
“are you okay, y/n? do you need help with anything?”
he usually wouldn’t help anyone else, but you’re next to him already, he tells himself.
“oh! hi kozume-san! no i’m okay—just finishing this sudoku puzzle my friend gave me!”
“i told you to call me kenma, i don’t like formalities like that.”
you can feel your cheeks heating up, as you awkwared cover them with your hand you exclaim, “i’m so sorry kozu-kenma! i’ll call you that from now on!”
“it’s okay y/n. just don’t forget next time, okay?”
you agree immediately, and it works for the next couple of hours. until he makes another mistake.
he’s on the floor before he knows it, he can hear the ball slam on the floor, but he can’t ignore the throbbing pain shooting through his body.
his ankle seems to look fine, but he knows he landed wrong after jumping for the ball. he takes his ankle and massages it, it doesn’t do much but he continues to do it anyways.
he can hear a group of footsteps run to him, but his vision seems to be tunneled.
throughout the many voices he can hear yours, loud and clear. “kozume! are you okay?”
he looks up at you, “kenma.”
the team all looks at him in confusion, a few mutters of people calling him delirious.
but you, you immediately get it, your cheeks turn a slight pink shade as you offer him a helping hand.
“sorry kenma! i’ll take you to the nurse now.” he gladly takes your hand. wanting to feel the softness of it forever, but you let go once he’s up.
everyone watches as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and limps to the door, once you’re at it you look back and yell. “me and kozume-san will be back soon! so keep practicing everyone!”
it’s been four months, but still you can’t seem to get over your habit.
many things have changed over the past few months, one being that you and kenma have been dating for two of those months.
though that habit seemed to stick with you even as time went on.
“kozume!” you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him.
a small chuckle escapes his lips, he wraps his arms around you. “you’re still forgetting to call me kenma, y/n.”
“old habits die hard,” you giggle, “oh! also—you’re late for practice! tetsurou was spamming your phone with calls, did you forget?”
over time, you’ve grown much more comfortable with him, as he had with you. even though at the time his ankle seemed to be the worse thing that ever happened to him, it also happened to be the catalyst of your relationship.
he’s grateful for landing wrong fore without that small flap of a butterflies wing, he wouldn’t have memorized the shape of your lips, or the sound of your laugh, or the small moles adorning your face.
“wait—tetsurou?”
you let out a breathy laugh, “yeah he told me to call him by his first name! you don’t mind, do you?”
“you remembered to say his first name but not mine?”
“kodzu-ken i mean. i think kozume is cute! it rolls off the tongue better. i’m sorry!” you raise your hands in defeat, but he’s already walking ahead of you to practice.
you chase after him, “kodzu—kenma wait!”
planting a kiss on his cheek, you take his hand, skipping happily to practice dragging him behind.
“kozume skip with me!”
“i’m not doing that.”
kenma hates the formality of when someone calls him kozume instead of kenma, but with the way his name sounds when you say it, he can’t find it in himself to mind.
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yenqa © do not copy, steal or translate.
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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3
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a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.
Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface
Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)
In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 
But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 
Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 
White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.
In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 
Ignoring him has become an art form as well.
Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.
The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 
Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 
As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 
The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 
- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.
Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 
- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?
Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 
A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 
Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 
- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.
- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 
Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 
- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.
- But you can't, so you won't.
A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 
- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.
Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 
- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.
Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 
- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 
Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 
You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 
An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.
- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.
You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.
That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.
*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 
So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 
And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 
Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 
The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 
The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 
Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.
- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.
- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.
- You're thinking, it's annoying.
Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 
Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 
God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.
- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?
Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 
- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.
It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.
You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.
He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.
God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 
Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...
Of course he noticed. 
Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.
- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.
Dagnerous, this is dangerous.
 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 
It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 
Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 
People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.
The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 
- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?
Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.
- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.
The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.
- Let me go. 
His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 
The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.
- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.
- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.
He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.
Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 
Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 
His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 
- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.
And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 
Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 
- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?
You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 
- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.
Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 
Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 
You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 
That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 
It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.
As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 
Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.
- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!
All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.
- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...
- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.
The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 
It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 
And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 
To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 
You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.
He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.
He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 
- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 
- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.
Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 
- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.
Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 
Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 
- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.
- Fuck you.
- After the wedding, my Viper.
And with that, he turns around.
 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 
It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 
The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?
Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 
It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 
So you dance. 
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the-orange-solace · 2 months
Text
When I was a child, I watched an episode of Criminal Minds where a man had a split personality. A woman who killed other women who threatened the man she formed to protect. I remember her sitting in the dark on a couch, a cigarette in hand beside a lamp, as she spoke to an Agent about why she had to kill them, that it was to protect him. It was her entire purpose for existing.
As a child, I used to pace empty halls in the middle of the night and lay in bed, repeating in my mind that I would be the only being in my body. I will not break into multiple people. I will be in control. I have to be because, at the time, I believed I could break into those monstrous plurals you see on TV. The ones that killed their family after years of neglect, abuse, and wrongdoing. The ones you should be afraid of ever becoming, no matter who you are or your situation.
So I became terrified.
And yet, nearly every night, I'd look up at the sky or the ceiling and beg for something to change—to not be alone. I was stuck pretending I was a different character, a type of escapism that sometimes got out of hand, lost in an identity that wasn't my own. Looking up and imagining being taken away, every character I adored was by my side, caring for me in return. I had to keep going, be them, and exist in a world with them.
I'd made up stories, different realities, and places in my mind to escape to, as well as explanations for things my underdeveloped brain couldn't comprehend in the place I found myself within. I clung to concepts, characters, and situations that reflected my own, and soon, I no longer felt alone—not with all the escapism I conjured up, not with the different identities to help me face what was happening.
But I was in control. I was one being. No matter what. I had to be a single being because that was good. I had to be good.
I would never hurt anyone, and being many meant being bad. I couldn't be bad.
When I was a teenager, I started researching and getting involved in minority and disabled spaces. I loved being informed, the stories, the many perspectives, and the complexity of humanity. So it was no surprise when I shared a plural headcanon with a friend, and they felt safe coming out to me. They were many. They took my hand and guided me through a community I was fascinated with and wanted to aid and represent like so many others.
I spent years learning, staying silent as others spoke, just listening to everything I could. But then, one day, like so many others, I spoke through a different facet, a different identity I had created as a child. The many faces of me represented things I could not be, I could not hold, nor could I handle. I was struggling; some of me wanted to lash out. So she did. She lashed out.
As always, I was faced with kindness, listening ears, and aid that then pushed me more to the surface from drowning. But I never left; just another part of me was lost, right? Of course. People are complex. I deal with my emotions in a complex way. Of course.
My plurally disabled friend watched as I became more comfortable speaking through the identities I had, whether they were facets of myself or characters that helped me. Soon enough, the continuous "role-play" and "emotional processing" developed into normal conversation, a comfort, a relief.
They kindly approached me and asked if I was a system, too. They had never met anyone who spoke to themselves like I do, definitely not any singlets. None of our other friends did, in person or not, not even people in our families. It was just us.
The fear from my childhood arose. I couldn't be multiple; I couldn't be more than one. It was bad. But hadn't I learned about Plurality? All its ups and downs? Its complexities and nuances? I accepted it wholeheartedly; I learned and evolved from the demonized perception I was given as a child. So, why was it still bad?
Because I must be lying; I must be a fake, a poser. It was the only reason, wasn't it? I had seen so many conversations and arguments about fakes, those who wished to be special. Had I somehow become the harm they spoke of? How could I do this to a community I swore to listen to and fight for?
I obsessed over it, forcing the panic, dissociation, habit, and ease of speaking in multiple identities and beings of myself away. I buried it as deep as I could for the betterment of everyone else. The community didn't deserve such harm, and I wouldn't bring it to their doorstep if I claimed it to be something I'm not.
The loathing became so present it formed into tics that caused aches and disruptions in my life. Multiple stressors--along with an identity crisis--will do that to someone. So my shoulder and neck muscles ached from shrugging, flexing, and all the repetitive movements I couldn't stop without crying from the suppression. So I didn't. I let it disrupt and hurt.
Then, one day, someone, some random, unknown system to me out in the world, spoke about how it didn't matter what was real or not; it didn't hurt anyone. Plurality and the belief of it didn't hurt anyone. It hurt no one to discover themselves, to test the waters, to simply pry into yourself and learn. There was no shame in figuring yourself, or yourselves, out. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be ashamed of or fearful of. Just another part of living.
So I did. I poked and prodded. I gave my parts names, spoke to them in the middle of the night, asked questions, got to know them, and learned we couldn't talk through words at first but could emotions and sensations. I realized I couldn't find where my Plurality started or where it ended, that we—oh god, we—the idea was so surreal but...comforting—were so combined, living without specific individuality outside of me that there was no separation in sight. Not that I could figure out. For so long, I believed everything was just me. Only me.
But now it was someone else, too. These things that made no sense, these things that felt out of place or special, unique, and ever-changing could be someone else.
Someone else.
The more I reflected, learned, applied, and prodded, the more things made sense. Until one day, I looked at my friends, held my breath, and spoke. Stated that it like it was a sin for me of all people to say.
I was plural.
No one blinked an eye. No one questioned it outside of boundaries and clarification. It wasn't surprising that their childhood friend was many. How surprising could it be when they used so many different names for different parts of themselves to express hard things?
It was astonishing.
And here we are, years and years later, grown and still learning, living, fighting, but more in touch with ourselves than ever before with so many more sys friends and aquatints. More experiences, a better understanding.
It's not shameful to learn, apply, and reflect. You take nothing from anyone but your time and open-minded exploration of the world and yourself(ves). There is no evil in being human, living life, phase or not. There is nothing wrong with you, any of you, for existing or living. You just are. I embrace you, I embrace us, and I embrace everything that comes with a life of many.
So, if you're struggling, just know you're not alone outside the body. We know, and so do many others. It's going to be okay; you'll find yourself in time. Don't rush it. There will always be time.
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fairysluna · 2 months
Note
morning sex + cregan?? 🙏🏻
MASTERLIST
this is a very old request, but i tried to do this since i had an inspo rush and i felt the need to write something. remember I'm having an awful writer's block so this is not the best, but i hope you like it either way! i tried my best🤍
PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader.
TAGS — smut (p in v, creampie, dirty talk), husband!cregan, lazy sex. if something is missing let me know!
WORD COUNT — 0.8k
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The way your husband snuggled into your neck gave you a hint on how he had decided to wake you up that day. You were bare already, still sore from the events of the prior night and still feeling the stickiness between your thighs as you squirmed closer to him. Cregan grunted against your neck, his tongue licking the marks he had left on there as his big hands traveled down your back until they reached your round arse; he gave it a firm squeeze — possessive, rough. You were still too sleepy to even notice how his hardened cock brushed against your belly before he grabbed your thigh and forced your leg on top of his hip. An involuntary movement was all it took him to moan, feeling the wetness of your growing arousal soaking his length as he moved it between your folds.
“I need you, my love,” he mumbled lazily, as you too moved your hips to feel more of him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. Usually, he would take his time with you by using his skillful tongue or thick fingers, but he was already aching for you and it was way too early in the morning to have the patience to wait any further. Cregan wrapped his own hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before his leaking tip found its way to your weeping cunt. A single movement of his hips and he was pushing inside of you, stretching your tight walls and stealing a gasp from your pretty lips. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, nibbling at your shoulder as an attempt to hold back. “So. fucking. tight,” he murmured with each thrust.
Your nails dug into his skin, your lips right next to his ear as he pounded into you slowly but so fucking deep. Cregan was mesmerized by the way your walls were already clenching around him, squeezing his sensitive cock while you were moaning so prettily against his ear. His body was still on fire from last night, his skin overly sensitive as well as yours; he knew neither of you would last long. “So perfect for me,” Cregan praised you as he searched for your lips. “Your cunt feels so perfect around my cock,” he whimpered, feeling his breath becoming ragged and uneven. “Squeezing me so fucking hard, like you don't want to let go of it. So needy for me.”
The blush rushed into your cheeks at his filthy words. You could hear it all; his hips meeting yours in rough but slow movements, your creamy cunt opening up and getting stretched by his thickness, the sound of the sloppy yet intense way your tongues clashed against each other in a kiss that was far too obscene — messy and wet. You were in heaven at that point, moaning shamelessly as your husband reached the deepest parts of you, reaching that sweet spot over and over again until you were nothing but a quivering mess between his big arms. “I- I feel so close,” you whined, forcing yourself to stop the kiss as it was starting to be so much for you.
“Mhm…” he hummed, pleased with the way your body reacted to him. His fingertips buried themselves in the soft flesh of your arse, holding onto you to thrust harder, faster and deeper. Your mouth dropped open, gasping for air as he seemed to have taken it away. “I can already feel it. Your cunt is begging for me to fill you up. Seven hells, I'll give it to you, my love. Every. fucking. drop.”
You felt him twitch inside you, and a deep groan left his throat before he could've held it back. You knew he was thinking about the filthy image of his seed falling from your weeping hole, your clit throbbing as your legs shake uncontrollably; oh, how he loved to think about it, about the mess he makes out of you everytime he fucks you. He loved marking you, feeling the stickiness between your thighs as he pushed his seed back inside you with his fingers, and he craved to do it one more time that morning.
He felt your walls milking him as you released, clamping around him and making it difficult for him to keep moving at the same pace as before. Yet, the mere sensation of your tightness was enough for him to spill himself inside of you, keeping his word and giving you every single drop as he whimpered your name like a prayer. His hips kept moving against yours, not stopping until he was sure that he had left all his cum in you. Cregan remained still for a moment, breathlessly caressing your soft skin and leaving soft kisses around your face and neck. You hummed, delighted by his touch.
“Good morning, Lady Stark,” he whispered in your ear after the overwhelming feeling has passed, followed by a deep chuckle that almost made you moan.
You sleepily smiled, opening your eyes to look at him.
“Good morning, Lord Stark.”
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BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU
GENERAL TAG LIST — @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @geizwolve @hangmanscoming
CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon @lokiofasgard12 @earenwen-leafwhisper
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desideriumwriter · 4 months
Note
i'm thinking about an angry love confession in the quidditch pitch with either of the twins. while it's raining. PLEASE
(also i'm loving anyone but you, i can't wait for the next chapter 😭)
you are a saint for this request, i love you. i live for the dramatics. take this as an apology for the other love confession blurb <3 oh and more aby is on its on its way i pinkyyyy promise!
wc: 761
f.w. masterlist | navi
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You were pissed. You’d come out all the way to the Quidditch Pitch by yourself to watch Fred practice, just because he asked you to. Only to end up disappointed and rained on.
Oliver was nice enough today to end practice shorter than usual due to the sudden heavy rain.
Already soaked enough from the run you had to make from the spot you were sitting on the bleachers to underneath them, you crossed your arms as you waited for Fred to get done talking with Angelina.
Soon they parted ways, Angelina stroking his arm as he walked away. The scowl on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Fred once he turned to you.
“You okay?” He walked up to you, broom still in hand and a smile still on his face from whatever humorous conversation he was having.
“Why do you even bother asking me here if you’re just gonna gawk at Angelina the entire time?” You muttered, looking at the wet grass.
“I don’t gawk at her.” Fred scoffed in disbelief. “What’s going on?” He lowered his chin, trying to get a look at your face.
“Whatever, I’m going back to the castle.” You shrugged, arguing with him was like talking to a wall.
“I- What’s the matter with you?” He grimaced, dropping his broom and following you as you went out into the rain. You didn’t respond, only muttering something about wanting to get back to your room.
“Hey, come on, stop. You’re acting all strange.“ Fred grabbed your shoulder, you shrugged him off.
“I’m not gonna let you walk all the way back alone in the rain, you know? You’re worrying me.” He grabbed your shoulder again, this time you whipped around angrily.
“Why do you care? Why don’t you go and continue on flirting with Angelina?” Your words were spilling out your mouth with no control, pure jealousy was spewing out of you.
“Where’s all this come from? What’s your problem?” Fred stuttered a bit, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst.
“This! This is my problem!” You went on, tearing your hood off your head. Your robes were completely soaked now and doing no help to shield you from the rain.
“I show up to your practices and games every single time you ask, I watch and I wait for you, just for you to go straight over to her!” You exclaimed.
“I’ve been trying to get you to figure it out but you're always busy with your pranks and practice and- and her!” Your voice wavered, yet you were too angry to feel embarrassed yet.
“I thought maybe you’d notice, maybe you’d see, but I can’t keep waiting and hoping while you’re off with someone else! And if I could just tell you then maybe you’d realize!” You blurted out. You were praying the raindrops hitting would disguise the tears that had begun to fall from your eyes.
“Then tell me! What is it?” Fred huffed, frustration in his tone.
You opened your mouth but only a shaky breath came out. You were hesitant and holding back, knowing that if you told him everything between you would go one of two ways.
“Come on, tell me what this big issue is! What?” He pushed one more time, causing you to break.
“I’m in love with you, you git! That’s what!” You yelled, voice slightly cracking. Fred’s face dropped.
The truth was laid bare and the both of you were silent, the pouring rain around you working as ambient noise.
"Say something," you hoarsely whispered. "Please say something." You tried to steady your heaving breath and racing heart, but Fred’s face didn’t help at all.
You felt like an idiot. You closed your eyes, wishing you could go back and have this never happen.
You were ripped out of your self-dwelling once two hands cupped your face and pulled you in. His lips are on yours, the coldness of the rain is replaced by the warmth of his skin, and you absolutely melt into it.
Once you finally broke apart, Freds hands still remained holding your face, making him look at you, his expression had shifted to a softer look.
“I don’t want Angelina, I want you.” His voice was gentle, “She doesn't compare to you. No one does.” He kissed you again, leaving you breathless.
“I don’t understand, if you felt the same, why didn’t you say anything?” You stammered, this was honestly the last thing you expected.
“I didn’t really think you'd be interested in a git like me.” He smiled and shrugged.
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tell me what you thought!
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bea-ce · 5 months
Text
Nobody loves me like you do
..or sweet gestures your boyfriend does for you that has your knees buckling and heart fluttering!
characters: wriothesley, childe, alhaitham, lyney
genre: FLUFF!! FLUFF!!! FLUUUUUUUUUUUUFF!!!
warning's: none really? wriothesley's can be interpreted as spicy maybe, but it wasn't intended to be taken that way. maybe obvious bias...
notes: in my healing era and my lover girl has finally gotten the courage of taking the leap of faith of love once more. this is a little tribute to that, and to my boyfriend who's the cause of it. also sorry for having been dead! real busy with school and being bombared with exams all the time (the things i do to get into medicine...)
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Wriothesley
It had become routine for you to leave the Duke's bedroom with tangled hair and knots that would only come out by putting balm in your hair when you showered. The cause of it? The Duke himself, of course.
Alas, as the saying goes "there's always a peace before a storm". You feel yourself get thrown off of Wriothesley, hitting your back against the matress with a small huff before you feel his weight shift ontop of you, squeezing the air out of you as giggles erupt from you while you try shoving him off of you to no avail.
Finding yourself with half of your body outside of his bed, having long ago accepted that this was the way you'd be handled by your big, strong lover, you hear Wriothesley chuckle and grabbing hold of your wrist to pull you up, back up on his queen-sized bed.
"What are you doing with half your body outside of my bed, sweetheart?" He asks teasingly, causing you to loudly exclaim at him with mock irritation in response "you're the one throwing me around the bed like a dog with its chewing toy!" causing a laugh to erupt from his chest as he pulls you ontop of him to engulf you into another long, warm hug.
It was part of the routine for him to shove his hands under your shirt, his hands roaming across your body as if mapping every part of you out. Unfortunately for you, the Duke had also made it a habit to go on search for your bellybutton for some odd reason. You'd often find yourself kicking your legs to pry him off of you, screaming and laughing as you'd feel him tickling you as his fingers was searching for his destined goal.
"What's wrong with you?! Why are you so fixated on my navel?!" You'd yell at him between laughs, squirming and fighting against his freely wandering hands that come to a halt upon your words and being met by his icy grey eyes staring softly down at you before he so casually says the sentence that has you limp and melting into his touch.
"I'm fixated on you. All of you, and I'm trying to appreciate and love all of you. Am I so wrong for doing that?"
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Tartaglia
There wasn't any special occasion today as far as you knew. No anniversary to be celebrated nor a sappy couples holiday to rub in all the singles people's faces with, so why was it that you could spot your boyfriend with a bouquet of roses in his arms from afar as he waits at the spot the two of you would always meet up on before heading out for your date?
"Am I not allowed to spoil my girl with flowers whenever I feel like it?" He had responded with a mock offended laugh as his free arm wrapped around your waist to return your gesture of pulling him into a tight hug (in all honesty you had just wanted to burrow your face into his chest to hide your teary eyes from him). You can feel his hand rub your side comfortingly, traveling its way up to pet the top of your head before pressing his lips against your forehead reassuringly, an unspoken 'I love you' before pulling you away from his chest to show you his soft smile, reserved just for you.
Inspecting the lovely roses enthrusted upon you, taking in their lovely red, almost pinkish, color as you walk besides Tartaglia. You can't imagine them having been cheap, given both their look of long stems, healthy leaves and from just how fresh they look, along with just how strongly they smelt of roses. Tartaglia's hand finds your free one as you aimlessly walk. A lighthearted laugh that escapes Tartaglia makes you turn your focus to him, noticing the way he's beaming at your fondness of the flowers. "You know I looked a really good while for those flowers you said that you liked, only to have the florist tell me that they only grew wild in another nation. I was super upset that I couldn't get you your favorite flowers!"
He'd give you the world if he could.
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Alhaitham
Matching Alhaitham’s thirst for knowledge, you’d often find yourself searching for new subjects to learn about. It wasn't uncommon that the facts you had learnt for the day were things Alhaitham already were somewhat versed in, but to immerse oneself further into a subject was anything but adverse, and even if nothing new was added to his knowledge a bit of repetition never hurt either.
It did happen from time to time that you’d come across information that would never come to any use. Just fun facts to share with someone, and Alhaitham would often fall victim to your ramblings (not that he minded, much less had any complaints about that). As always, you find yourself walking hand in hand with the scribe, your mouth having gone dry from how long you had passionately held a monologue with yourself of a new useless fact you had learnt. Thinking that Alhaitham couldn’t be bothered with trivial, impractical information and that his silence was a sign of that, you can’t help but let a thought slip past your lips. 
“Are you even listening?” you had asked him with a whisper, your hand giving his a light squeeze as your footsteps had come to a stop, halting the man beside you and forcing him to face you. His light turquoise eyes scan over yours, softening before a faint smile traces his lips as he nods. “Of course I’m listening. Don't mind me if I just want to listen. It's where I find the most comfort."
Alhaitham’s unwavering focus is on you. It’s always on you.
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"Tada!" You hear his voice burst your little bubble, a curious hum erupting from you as you glance in Lyney's direction. A faltering swan is handed to you from him, looking soggy and sad due to the tissue's soft material and perhaps even because of the magician's untrained hands from lack of practice of origami. You don't miss the way your boyfriend smiles at you before staring intently at you, awaiting your approval of his creation.
Lyney
Sitting across you at the small café Lyney can be seen fiddling with his tissue, his plate having long been empty with only crumbs left behind of the pastry that had formerly been there. Too distracted by the scenery around you, you fail to notice the magician's hands working away on a little surprise for you.
You can't help the laugh that escapes you, due to the cute gesture of his, causing the poor man to deflate in embarrassment and shame, mistaking your laughter as being directed at him because of how just pathetic the swan looks like- The piece of paper faltering too in solidarity with its creator.
Quickly placing down the gift from Lyney, you wave your hands in the air defensively, quick to reassure him, "No, no! I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing over how cute you are being, Lyney! Thank you."
Your encouraging words is all that he needs to regain his confidence and smile right back at you with the same adoring gaze you always have saved for him.
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writingforstraykids · 5 months
Text
Keep it together
Pairing: Chan x femReader
Word Count: 2199
Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.
Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort
A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤
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Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home. 
You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties. 
Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it. 
And all you wanted was him.
A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids. 
Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…
You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied. 
Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.
Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…
As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest. 
You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you. 
But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied. 
“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned. 
Strange.
Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.
Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?
“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..
He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes. 
“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze. 
He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time. 
“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms. 
Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”
“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms. 
The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”
“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately. 
“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”
You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely. 
“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”
“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.
Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back. 
You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee” 
“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. 
You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage. 
But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. 
Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”
“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago. 
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honnelander · 1 year
Text
busgirl
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once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji
WARNINGS: none
word count: 3.4k
pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help
masterlist
taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319
You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.
Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.
But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.
Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.
But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.
The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.
But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."
"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"
Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.
You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?
"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.
"Hold what off?"
He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.
You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"
"And you know I always will love you, right?"
"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."
His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."
You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.
Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."
You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.
Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."
A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.
"Y/n-"
"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.
"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."
"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"
"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."
Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.
You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"
But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.
"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."
Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.
But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.
You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.
The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.
Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.
"Y/n?"
"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."
If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.
Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."
"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.
Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."
Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.
--------- -----
Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.
The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.
What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.
But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?
If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?
As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.
With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.
"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"
But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.
"PLEASE! I beg you!"
As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.
"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."
"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.
The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."
"What?"
"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."
Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.
"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."
You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.
Shit. You had to hurry.
You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.
It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.
You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.
"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."
"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.
"Please," you urged. "It's important."
The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.
His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"
As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.
What a day this was turning out to be.
You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."
"Anything I can help you with?"
What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.
"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."
The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"
You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.
The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."
"So you're a pirate chef?"
The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."
You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"
"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."
You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.
"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."
The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.
"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."
Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.
"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."
Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."
You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."
"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."
Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."
"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."
Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"
You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."
The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.
"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"
Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."
The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"
You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.
"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.
Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"
Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."
"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.
From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.
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atinycafe · 1 year
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"ew! i have a boyfriend, so hands off," you slur, your words tumbling out in a jumble. you wobble in the grasp of the larger guy, who effortlessly holds you.
mingi lets out a sigh as you try to break free from his embrace. the man is naturally stronger than you, with his muscles showing off the hours spent at the gym. moreover, the alcohol in your system makes your feeble attempts to push him away even more pointless.
"tiny, i'm tired and you're totally wasted," he says, crouching down to fix the mini skirt that's riding up on your bare thighs. "let me take you home."
"my boyfriend's on his way. he's gonna kick your ass," you groan, slapping his hand away from your thigh. he chuckles at the sight, the same hand you just hit now gently stroking your hair, offering you comfort as the impending migraine creeps up on you.
"hey baby, look at me," he shushes you and he grips your chin, making you meet his gaze. he examines every single feature of your face, noticing how the glitter that was once on your eyelids has now found its way to your cheekbones. with his thumbs, he gently removes the specks, and you instinctively close your eyes, feeling a pleasant tingle where his touch lingers.
"don't call me that, am not your baby," you retort with a scrunch of your nose and he can't help but find you utterly adorable even though the disgusted action was directed at him. mingi clicks his tongue disapprovingly, looking down at you. he's tired, and you had convinced him to go out tonight, promising a good time since it had been ages since you both went out together. he agreed, unable to resist your begging, completely smitten with you. but now, as he reflects on his actions, he's starting to regret it a little.
"fuck, you're lucky i love you," he mutters quietly, playfully pinching your cheek. he crouches down, bringing his face closer to yours. your wide eyes gaze up at him, filled with uncertainty, wondering why this "stranger" is getting closer to you. "don't you recognize me tiny? you're breaking my heart." mingi says, taking your hand and guiding it to his hair. without thinking, you instinctively tug at the strands, as if it's a reflex ingrained in your mind. "you begged me to dye my hair this color and you don't recognize me?"
he watches with delight as recognition flickers in your eyes upon seeing his blond locks, and your face breaks into a wide, toothy grin. bursting into fits of giggles, you exclaim, "mingi!!!" and leap into his sturdy arms, as if it's been ages since you last saw him. taken aback, he grabs hold of you, momentarily stumbling backward in surprise. he erupts into laughter, declaring, "there she is." with one hand supporting you beneath your behind, your legs wrap around his waist. he then bends down to retrieve the pink heels that slipped off your feet during the leap, and you tighten your grip around him, laughing uncontrollably as you almost lose balance, but his hold remains strong.
"let's get you home tiny," mingi murmurs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you. closing your eyes, you surrender to sleep, trusting him to guide you back home safely.
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#399
“Oh man, Fuck!...  Oh sorry you had to hear that call.  Didn’t mean to interrupt you enjoying your brew.  It’s just that my girlfriend makes me so fucking pissed off….  Get this, she knows I work 14 days straight busting my ass on that drilling rig.  I am about to head home for four days of rest.  That’s a 7-hour drive, each way.  So she tells me that her sister and mother are in town staying with us.  My days of relaxing are shot to shit.  And worse yet there’s no way I’m getting her pussy.  I probably won’t even get head.  Ain’t that shit?...
“Oh sorry.  I forget that I’m not with a dozen or so other roughnecks out in the field.  All they talk about is pussy.  Most of them don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.  Hearing them go on and on about fucking and getting a blow job, I forget that other people might talk about something else.
“My god, I just wanted to get home and kick back with a beer and get some head.  You know the kind of blowjob that goes on for an hour and it relaxes your entire body.  That doesn’t even include blowing your wad.  You know what I’m talking about?
“Oh there I go again.  Sorry if I’m telling too much....  I do that when I start drinking.   Do you care if I talk about getting blown?...  Good.  Thought so.  What man doesn’t want head at the end of weeks of working damned hard? 
“…Here’s to blowjobs!  Cheers! 
“Hey Frank! Get my friend here another beer….  Nah!  Put your money away.  I got this. 
“So your car broke down?...  We are one of two taverns for twenty miles.  The other is by the interstate one mile away.  At this time of day it’s quite deserted.  We typically only get locals in here.  That is, unless you are having work done at Mike Larson’s garage.  There’s not that much out here, just the garage, Frank’s tavern, the lodge, and the oilfield’s main office over there across the creek.  Was I right?  Is it your car?
“…That was not a happy nod.  So, you’re here for tonight… Oh wait, the garage is closed for the weekend.  You are here until Monday?  …Again, that nod tells me everything.  Well to make matters worse, there are no available women for at least 50 or 60 miles.  This is what this hellhole has to offer. 
“I don’t know about you but it looks like it’s going to be an evening of pounding the pud.  And when I get done, I’ll use my other hand to make it feel like I’m getting a handjob from someone else.
“Goddamn my girlfriend fucked this all up.  I only had this weekend off, before I have to report back here to start filling in for a bud on Wednesday.  She thought that I would want to spend time with her fucking family.  Sometimes I wonder why I’m still with her.
“You have a wife or girlfriend?... 
“…Huh!  Well, sometimes I wish I was like you, single.  But sometimes I really need to get my balls drained.  She gives great head though.  She’s the only girlfriend I had who can take my head in her throat.  I have a big schlong, and every woman I dated complained about its size.  It takes her a long time to throat me.  Most of the time I get frustrated, and I wind up grabbing her head and fucking her mouth.  Eventually it ends in her throat.  She has never taken me down to the root.
“But I really have to be buzzed to get into skull fucking the bitch.  The part she really hates is me dick slapping her.  As I said, I have a gigantic dick.  Smacking her upside her head with my cock usually throws her off balance.  So does a face slap with my hand. 
“When I get in the zone, I am all kinds of aggressive.  I am only after one thing, to bust my nut.  If that means roughing up the bitch, then she’s going to get roughed up.  If I’m drunk enough, I’ll not only fuck her cunt, but she’ll take me in her ass.
“Right now, if she were here, I would be fucking her in every position in every hole.  I wouldn’t care if she was enjoying it.  I’m so fucking horny.  I would use any woman right now.  I can’t have a weekend of jerking off.  Hell, if there was a faggot, I would use him the same way. 
“And it’s a good thing that I have a faggot sitting not ten feet away from me, paying attention to every word I say, licking his lips every time I mention blowjobs, and responding with awkward silence when I asked if he had a bitch back home.  No straight man acts this way.
“I would ask you if you are a cock sucking faggot, but we both know the answer.  Don’t we?  So this is what is going to happen.  I’m going to walk over there, to the men’s toilet.  You want my fat hog in your faggot throat, you follow me in.  Don’t say a word.  Get on your faggot knees and open your faggot mouth. 
“I’ll give you until I drain my piss.  If you don’t come in at that time, then you better be out of here and hide in your room at the lodge.
“I really got to piss, so you don’t have much time….
“…Well fuck.  I would have thought you would have taken some time to think about it.  But OK.
“I really have to piss.  While I do that get in the stall and on your knees.  Be ready for me.  I swear, the beers just pour right through me.  Oh, this feels good—
“What the fuck?  I’m not done pissing….  Oh?  So, you are one of those kinds of faggots.  Nasty piss drinking faggot!  Oh fuck, your mouth feels good.  You are definitely getting a reaction out of my hog.  That’s it for my piss for now.
“Faggot, see how big it is?  You think you can take it?
“Jesus fuck!  Right to the root with no problem!  Holy shit.  You faggots know what you are doing.  Oh man.  This is… fuck!  Oh my god! 
“Bob up and down.  Go head-to-root-to-head-to-root.  Fuck!  This is the blowjob I have been looking for all my life.  Lucky me I found me a faggot with car problems.
“Pull off.  I said, ‘Pull off!’  Look up at me.  Hold still…. 
“…What?  Nothing?  I just gave you one of the hardest bitch slaps I have ever given and you just take it….  Wait, what did you just say?  Did you just thank me… for bitch slapping you?
“Get up.  Get your faggot-ty ass up.  Let’s go.  Move!
“We are going to my room at the lodge.  You are going to spend your night with me. 
“Pay Frank your tab and leave a good tip.  Meet me outside…  A fifty?  You know what a good tip is, that or you didn’t care to wait for him to give you change.
“OK faggot.  I have never used a fag before.  But damn, that one minute in the toilet told me I have been missing out. 
“Over here.  I’m the last room.  The lodge is free for us roughnecks.  The company pays for our housing.  My room is at the end.  It’s a glorified motel room.  I have tons of beer.  You won’t get any, at least not without it going through me first.  Never did that before, but fuck I liked it.
“I plan on being here for four days.  You are going to spend your time with me and my cock down your throat.  You probably take it up your ass.  I will definitely try that out.
“Now listen up.  I have no interest in you or your dick.  I ain’t sucking you or getting fucked by you.  You try anything like that, and I will beat the shit out of you.  Understand me?...  Understand me faggot?
“And keep up the ‘Yes Sir!’  I like the sound of that.  Here we are.  Faggot this is all new for me.  But I will tell you this, I am liking what has been done so far.  I’m so ready to do this.  My cock has not lost it’s hard on.  I may never go back.  Faggot get inside and strip!”
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