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#because the good and bad times come and go
nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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you know the killer doesn't understand
in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.
angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3
Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)
You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 
So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 
They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 
Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 
Or so he’d like to think. 
Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 
Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 
In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 
He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 
Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 
You don’t make another sound for hours. 
He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 
Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 
“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 
Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 
“Good morning. You sleep okay?”
Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 
“I think so. I had weird dreams.”
He hums. 
“About what?”
It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 
“Do I have to tell you?”
That hurts. 
“No. But it might help.”
Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 
You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 
He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 
Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 
“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 
“That’s not… you’re…”
“What? What is it?”
A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 
“You’re not being fair.”
He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.
“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”
His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.
“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”
It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 
Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 
Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 
“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 
Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 
“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”
He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 
You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 
Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 
It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 
He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 
Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.
The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 
Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 
Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 
At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 
Penelope: She’s at my apartment
Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!
The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.
It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 
For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 
“How’d you get home?”
You swallow. 
“Penelope.”
Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 
“You really should have brought your phone.”
You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 
“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”
It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 
“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”
“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”
“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”
You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 
“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”
You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 
“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”
There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 
“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 
“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”
At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 
Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 
On instinct, he catches your wrist.
There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—
But it doesn’t. 
He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 
In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 
“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”
“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question born of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 
“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”
“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”
When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.
Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  
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svtswhorehouse · 2 days
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DATING MINGYU INCLUDES…. — sfw
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• you honestly have no clue how you managed to cuff a man as attractive as him, yet here you are.
• anytime he drives (which is always when he is with you) one of his hands are on the steering wheel while the other is ALWAYS on your thigh. the only time he ever takes it off is to switch gears.
• he's your personal heater. mingyu is so big and bulky that he radiates so much body heat. it's perfect on nights that are cold which are literally always since he's over six foot and hogs the comforter. you have to rely on cuddling close for warmth.
• sitting on his shoulders to change lightbulbs !!! (bonus, sitting on his shoulders during christmas time to put the star on the tree.)
• i hope you enjoy being babied because this man will do it to no end !!!
• whenever you're talking to him, he has the habit of looking at your lips to read them and it makes you feel nervous and giddy like a teenager all over again.
• he is always cooking for you !!! even when he's not going to be home, he would still make you something to eat for dinner that night. who are you to complain though? his food tastes like heaven.
• he yaps ten times more when he is with you. he can't help it, he's just so excited to tell you everything about his day.
• he gives the biggest and the best bear hugs. you truly try to hide away from the rest of the world whenever you're in his arms.
• if you asked him if you could tie a bow around his arm, he would say yes. no questions asked. would even flex just for fun.
• he looks at you as if you strung up all the stars in the sky.
• he is a giant teddy bear in disguise. he has the softest spot for you and isn't afraid to let the world know.
• he is constantly making sure you eat. what do you mean you're not hungry??? what do you mean you'll eat later??? no. he's already in the kitchen whipping up a mingyu special.
• whenever he tries out a new recipe, you're the first person who gets to taste it. he's always asking for your opinion after he feeds you a spoonful.
• people (especially men) tend to shy away from you in public settings because mingyu just looks so big and scary standing next to you.
• you will constantly be smothered in kisses. he thinks you're the cutest and just can't resist.
• he's definitely the type to tease you whenever he catches you ogling him. (you can't help it, he just looks TOO good.)
• may not be good at talking back to his members, but when it comes to anyone disrespecting you, oh he is READY to raise hell.
• you would definitely have to hold back from being jealous when in public and seeing how many woman have their eyes on him. your boyfriend is a VERY attractive man and you would be fooled to think no one would glance in his direction. too bad for them though cause you're the only person he's looking at.
• you would have this joke that he's your housewife. for some reason he likes doing chores???? for fun??? whenever you get home the laundry is always folded, sink is always empty, and bed is always made. the house is clean at all times.
• you would definitely be close to his sister which he loves because mingyu is such a family oriented person.
• late night swims are a must ! just the two of you under the stars. he would indulge in your playing mermaids agenda. (his mermaid tail is blue!)
• one of his favorite domestic things to do with you is grocery shopping. he comes in handy whenever something is on the top shelf.
• he would teach you how to ride a bike just so you can join him whenever he goes cycling. honestly the best teacher, he won't let go until you say so and even then he's hovering to make sure you don't fall.
• he would constantly encourage you to fall asleep on his shoulder or lap whenever he can tell you're tired.
• his biceps make the BEST pillow.
• he would send you his gyms pictures before he even posts them because at the end of the day, you're the only person he wants to be praised by.
• physical touch is his love language !!! good luck getting him off of you.
• he definitely uses his height to an advantage. he would constantly hold things above your head just to tease you and say the only way you're getting it is if you give him a kiss.
• he would be holding your hand at ALL times.
• he gives the best head scratches, you love when he plays with you hair. (bonus, you taught him how to braid and he's fully mastered it.)
• he is a VACUUM when it comes to food, but regardless he always saves a few bites for you whether you want it or not.
• he would make breakfast almost every morning. protein pancakes would definitely be on the menu and he would also definitely be shirtless while making them. (he's a master at flipping pancakes too, it's low-key hot.)
• would try his best to protect you from small things like the dark or bugs, but if we're being real, he's probably screaming on the inside too.
• he would constantly be calling you cute and adorable.
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emmyrosee · 22 hours
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Random thought #45 (02:50)
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Dad!Sukuna who tears up every time Akiara cries.
He can’t help it. His tough exterior crumbles when it comes to the pitched wails of his spawn, a bit of his soul cracking and crumbling in absolute despair when her little face is scrunched in displeasure and wails fall from her little mouth.
When she was a baby and first got her shots, she squirmed and sobbed in Sukuna’s big arms, and you watched sadly as he used the tips of his fingers on his free hand to press into his eyes, revealing wetness underneath. He sniffled and held her tighter, and when it was over, he pulled her up and into his chest, burrowing his face against her.
When she trips while playing, and she comes to her daddy crying, arms extended up to be held, he rocks her gently while looking up and blinking away the foreign sting in his eyes.
Daycare is the worst, she’s plopped onto the floor before absolutely wailing for her dad to not leave, to stay with her, and Sukuna has to take in a few deep breaths in the car before driving- and not going back inside to grab his little girl and call out of work.
The only other time you’ve seen sukuna tear up, verge of crying over anyone and anything, was when you walked down the aisle to meet him at the other side, sinking his teeth into his lip to try and distract himself from the stinging pinching at the back of his eyes, tears desperate to fall.
And now all you can do, is comfort him.
Even after Akira calms down, back to playing or reduced to simple sniffles as she comes down from her heightened state, you make sure to, when she’s not in his arms, gently cup his face in your hands to ground him, pressing kisses where you can reach and mumbling about how good he handled her.
“I made her cry,” he grumbles, angry at himself.
“You did not make her cry,” you assure. “Outside forces did, and she came to you for comfort.” You kiss the side of his nose, “because she loves you.”
“I’ll fucking demolish every outside force that dare make her cry,” he snarls, balling his fists.
You chuckle and shake your head, “as much as I would love for you to take care of every single thing that makes her cry, you can’t destroy concrete. Or the boy in her class that pushed her.”
At the reminder of the twerp’s actions, his nostrils flare and his breathing hitches. You’re quick to shush him and kiss the corner of his mouth, “bad example, bad example. That was on me.”
“I outta demolish you for bringing it up.”
“Yeah,” you snicker. “Going to demolish your pretty wife?”
“Yeah,” he grins, gently pinching your side to make you squirm. “Watch your back.”
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erwinsvow · 1 day
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omg please do something about comforting rafe after his shitty day, like him trying shed a tear while laying on ur chest while u scratch his back and him being all needy for ur touch like nuzzling his nose into ur neck ughhh 🫣🫣
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being nice to rafe was all too easy for you, even though he never felt like he deserved it.
you don't know exactly what had happened today. you'd been out with friends and then home with your family all day, but only because rafe had been busy. you knew it wasn't necessarily good, but you'd drop your plans in a heartbeat if rafe was free.
so you had gone all day without him—which was fine. you were able to handle it, you'd even had a good day.
but you had forgotten something—something important. so concerned with your own dependency on rafe and how much you wanted to see him, but still trying to behave as normally as possible around him, you didn't remember that rafe had also gone all day without you.
and normally, he could handle that too. if he was having a good day.
bad days without you were something entirely different for rafe, something close to unbearable. he couldn't pinpoint exactly why or when this had started, but over time, it had turned into a beast of its own.
even thinking about it made him angry. all rafe knew was that if he didn't see you in the next ten minutes, he was either going to break a door or break someone's bones.
and you, like the good girl you are, come open your door the second you hear rafe's truck pull up. it doesn't take long for you to see something's wrong, inviting rafe inside and both of you staying silent while you get up to your bedroom.
a haven of soft blankets and sweet-smelling candles, your room is your safe space. you hadn't realized it was rafe's too.
the thing with you and rafe has been, for some time now, that you don't need words to communicate all the time. sometimes looking at each other is enough to tell the other what's going on, and today was one of those times.
when rafe comes in, you close the door gently behind the two of you and then take a seat on the bed. he's still standing at the foot of the bed, and you glance up.
rafe looks, more than anything, tired. and you don't need to know why, or what caused it, or to ask him what's wrong. you just need him to feel better.
you take his hand in yours, smiling up at him when he finally glances down. you move up, resting against the headboard and trying to make as much space as possible for your boyfriend, even though he can never fit on your bed. still holding his hand, you tug it until he comes and joins you.
with still no words, you let him rest his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair. at first he just lays there but after a few minutes, you feel his hands snake around your waist, hearing a small sigh of what you hope is relief. and knowing that he feels better, you feel a little better too.
the two of you stay like that for a while—though you don't mind. you don't want it to end. rafe is always taking care of you and this feels like your chance to take care of him.
when rafe finally shuffles and gets up to sit beside you, you hear a quiet sniffle and look down to see some wet marks on your shirt. you immediately look up at rafe, taking his hand into yours again.
"it's gonna be okay, rafe." you really mean it, and you hope he believes you.
"yeah," he clears his throat and you look away, focusing on the pattern of your quilt. rafe lifts your face towards him, fingers moving to your jaw and tilting you in his direction, before he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "thanks, kid."
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felixknow · 1 day
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Hannie's 🍒 fixation
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Han/f!reader, friends who do something sexual...by accident...? nah, Han is a boob guy and wants to put his mouth to good use
ADULTS ONLY, MDNI, I don't want teenagers reading my NSFW posts
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Since meeting Han, your friendship has been touchy-feely.
Maybe it’s because you’re both introverts who like quality time rather than chatting. Maybe it’s because your love languages are both physical touch.
Either way, a night in at your place watching anime is completely normal. Laying side by side in your bed, both scrolling on your phones, not even paying attention to the plot of the show you’ve both seen a dozen times.
No one has spoken in, like, an hour but it’s honestly so nice you don’t even care.
Han giggles and lays his phone against his chest, covering his bare face as it turns red.
“What’s so funny?” you ask, nudging him.
“Ahhhh, I need this,” he says, turning his phone toward you. It’s a picture of a blonde girl wearing a crop top that reads "Had a bad day? You can play with my boobs."
"This would make literally everything better," he chuckles, looking at you expectantly-- in his head he’s waiting for a giggle or a funny reaction, not for what you actually say.
"Good thing I have a perfectly good pair of tits right here," you blurt without thinking.
"Really?!" he asks excitedly, dropping his phone as he rotates toward you, now laying on his side facing you instead of on his back. His eyes are so bright and excited, and his hand is already sliding up your torso-- how could you say no?
"Yeah," you say softly, shrugging. "I don't mind. We're friends,” you add on, becoming less sure as you talk. “I trust you."
"This is the best day of my life," he says as one of his hands cups one of your breasts and squeezes gently. "Oh-- is this your nipple?" he asks, walking his fingers back a couple of inches until two press down over your half-hard bud.
"Yes," you confirm, laughing softly. Your face warms up, all the way down your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice given that his eyes are so entranced on your chest.
"It's so cute," he coos, pressing your shirt down flat so your nipple pokes against it. Before you can formulate a thought, he's reaching over to your other boob, squeezing and feeling carefully until he finds your other nipple. It perks up in interest as he touches it, and your breath hitches in your throat when he starts very purposefully flicking his finger back and forth, trying to perk it up. 
"Aw, come on," he mumbles to himself. "It was hard and then it got soft again."
Probably because I'm starting to get flustered and trying to be calm, you think but don't tell him.
He pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers and rolls harshly, sending a very intense and quick shock through you. You bite your lip to stop a noise from escaping. Your heart rate is increasing and your skin is becoming much more sensitive to his touch. And he smells so good…
I'm so pathetic. He's barely been touching me a minute and it's making me horny.
"Ahh, there we go," he says happily now that your nipple is distinct through your t-shirt. You watch as a thought crosses his mind, making his eyebrows furrow slightly as his bottom lip pouts. 
Then he leans down, swiftly sucking your nipple through your shirt.
"Ahhhh," you moan, finally unable to hold it in. You grab fistfuls of your blankets in an effort to keep your hands to yourself. Somehow touching him, even just playing with his hair, would make this far more real than it already is.
"I was wondering when you'd make noise," he says, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes. Then he goes back, sucking you through your shirt while he gets his other hand up and onto your other tit as he turns and half lays on you, working his way until his legs and hips are between your thighs.
He kneads and squishes one boob while sucking the other nipple. Half of this is what you expected him to do-- maybe touch and hold your boobs for a minute or so and then laugh it off. You didn’t expect this. Not him soaking a wet patch through the front of your shirt.
Not one of his hands sneaking under your blanket to find the bottom hem.
Not him yanking your shirt up to your collarbones, breathing a soft "wow" while his sparkly eyes take in the sight of your naked chest.
"Hannie," you say with an unsure tone, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores it. Instead he leans in once more and kisses your nipple. He drags his soft lips against your bare skin and breathes in the smell of you. You're so warm against his cheek and he feels completely lost in the selfish pleasure of playing with you.
“Does it feel good?” he asks, twisting both of your nipples between his fingers. He pouts as he waits for your response, clearly wanting you to say yes.
You nod shyly and pull the collar of your shirt up to hide the bottom part of your face.
He beams up at you, then laughs and pulls your shirt back down.
“Hey, don’t hide from me. I want to see you.” He licks a circle around your burningly sensitive nipple. “And hear you,” he adds, sucking your nipple into his mouth.
You moan softly, cautiously reaching one hand up to rest on his back. He hums and flicks his tongue then releases your nipple with a pop.
“This really is the best,” he says, giving your other nipple equal treatment. He once again lets go with a dramatic pop.
“This is my favorite thing we’ve ever done.”
He switches back again but goes faster, sucks harder, making himself out of breath as he ravenously indulges in your chest.
“Fuck, your tits are so hot, baby.”
“Mmm,” you whine softly, turning your head away and covering your face slightly.
“Hey, I said don’t hide. What, you don’t think your tits are hot or something?”
“They’re not. They’re big but they sag. It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s fucking hot,” he insists, crawling a little higher so he can see you better. You can’t help but to gasp when you feel his hard-on slide against your crotch. “Do you know how many guys like big tits? I don’t care if they’re hanging down to your fucking stomach.” He smirks. “They’re easier to get in my mouth that way.”
“Oh my god, Hannie,” you laugh, playfully pushing on his cheek to move his head away from you.
“I’m so serious,” he says, though he laughs. “I can’t believe you’re letting me play with them. I’m on cloud nine.”
“I can kind of tell,” you say softly, shifting just enough so he feels the movement against his crotch and knows you’ve noticed his boner.
“Oh yeah,” he says, face blushing even deeper than yours. “You know what would be even better than playing with your tits?”
“What?”
“Eating you out.”
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masterlist | Click here for part 2
315 notes · View notes
b14augrana · 19 hours
Text
'Spar'
Your sister throws a party for you after you win your first official fight, and you end up having a talk with her girlfriend
Ona Batlle x teen!Bronze!reader
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masterlist
Warnings: reader is a boxer but i have 0 boxing knowledge + pretty badly written 😬😬, bunch of sister-in-law bonding time, short little fic
A/N: bit of a different fic, i didn’t want to write this prompt and it took a lot of back and forth decision making but i hope you enjoy 💁‍♀️
Football has never been your thing. Growing up, you’d sit in the backyard and watch your older sister practice all sorts of football-y things, occasionally urging you to give it a try in, but you were never interested. Your thing was boxing.
It was a bit random to most people, granted how good your sister was at football and how much everyone in your family seemed to like it. You could almost perfectly imitate the looks on people’s faces when you told them you were a boxer and you disliked football.
All of the confused faces and questions and people trying to convince you to switch sports never managed to stop you. Sheer determination is what got you to where you are now.
Obviously, you’re not like your sister. Lucy is a world class defender with more accolades than you can remember on top of being one of the faces of women’s football. What most people don’t know about her though, is that she is better at being your big sister than being anything else. She’s the only person you trust without a second thought.
When you’re sad about something? Lucy. When you’re angry? Lucy. When you need help with homework? Lucy. When you have a super important secret that’s bugging you? Lucy.
Your first fight was super important to you. The whole week leading up to it, it was all you could talk about. When you got out of school early and went to Lucy’s training, you spared nobody from your rambles of excitement.
So, when you totally didn’t want a party after your first official boxing match that you ended up winning and you need to count on someone to throw you a party? Lucy.
You didn’t want a party, not really. That didn’t stop Lucy from throwing one anyways. Your basement turned into a dark blue haven, voices barely audible over the music blaring from multiple speakers.
She had invited your friends, as well as some of her teammates. You recognised Aitana and Fridolina, and you had a conversation with them, which Lucy crashed to talk their heads off about your fight and how incredible it was to watch before proceeding to insist that they come watch your next fight. Y’know, classic big sister things, because she knew how much you hated non-family members watching your matches. Like, seriously, you hated it.
If you knew your sister at all, you knew she would’ve invited her girlfriend to this party, so as she was talking to Aitana and Frido about the boxing match, you scanned the room for her. You had met Ona before but your conversations were always brief; either between breaks at training or while she waited in the living room for Lucy to get ready to go out somewhere.
She was nice, but you’ve always been wary of people your sister dates, especially after her and Keira called it off.
You found her sitting on the sofa, scrolling on her phone with her drink in the other hand. You felt bad, because she was all alone, and obviously her other teammates and girlfriend were in the middle of a conversation.
She looked up when she realised you approaching her, and a smile crossed her face when you occupied the vacant spot beside her. “Hi (Y/N),” she greeted.
“Hi Ona. I knew you’d get dragged here,” you responded, reciprocating her bright smile. She laughed at your comment and nodded, placing her phone in her lap.
“I heard about your fight. Congratulations!” she said, and you shook your head. “I think everyone’s heard about it and if not, Lucy will make sure they do,” you grumbled.
“She’s proud to be your big sister, that’s all it is,” Ona replied, and a slightly awkward silence lingered between you two after her words. There wasn’t much silence due to the music, but no words were exchanged, until you spoke.
You turned to her, squinting slightly to see her properly in the light. “I don’t normally like people dating my sister, because she’s my best friend and I have very high standards for who I’d accept as her girlfriend since she deserves only the best…” you started.
Ona looked at you, and you didn’t know it, but her stomach sank just then. Her muscles tensed as she looked at you, her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly with worry that she was trying to suppress. She knew how much Lucy loved you, her little sister, so being accepted by you came above all. She had an inkling that was all about to come crashing down.
“…But you’re different. If I want anyone to date my sister, it’s you.”
The brunette’s expression completely shifted from nervousness to surprise. Her mouth fell agape slightly, and it was near impossible to combat her smile. A warm and fuzzy feeling is what she’d call the emotion blooming in her heart.
In a shy voice, you spoke once more, convincing yourself that you’ll manage as you asked her your question.
“Would you, maybe.. want to come watch my next fight?”
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borathae · 3 days
Text
moonlight
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"Taehyung asks you to sneak out with him and you end up making passionate love to him in a hayloft."
Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, Slice of Life Fluff
Warnings: a romantic horseback ride in the moonlight, passionate sex in a hayloft, soft but mean Dom!Taehyung, sub!Reader, listen he's a tease 100, neck kisses, body worshipping, breast worship, nipple play & sucking, oral sex (f.receiving), he licks her over her panties ngng, a very quick rimjob, orgasm control, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), dirty talk, praise, strength kink, good girl kink, he calls her his slut once, the title Sir falls like once, doggy style to pronebone, clit spanking with his cock, frotting, he kinda describes to her in vivid detail how he'd take her anal virginity jsjsjs, he is so unhinged and sexy, subby girl tears, he's the safest Dom, a huge creampie, cuddly aftercare, they're so in love <3
Wordcount: 6.8k
a/n: this is the second story based on my fellow tae girlies' wishes. i needed to write something about them in a hayloft. i would say that it takes place three days after they returned from their magical holiday in Caerula Luna. have fun besties hehe 💙
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You haven’t been asleep for long when someone shakes you awake again. You open your eyes, meeting glowing ruby eyes. 
“Who are you?” you feel awake instantly, tensing up in fright.
“It’s me. Tae.”
“Oh god Tae, you just scared me so bad”, you whine, relaxing slowly as the shock still sits deep in your sleepy mind.
“Why?” he asks, blinking his eyes at you in the darkness. It is rather hypnotizing to watch his two glowing orbs appear and disappear repeatedly. 
“Because you shook me awake and then stared at me in complete darkness with your red eyes like a creep.”
“Ah yes, you cannot see in the darkness. Forgive me, I forgot”, he says and lays himself on top of you to reach your bedside lamp.
You laugh, patting his butt. 
“Gosh you silly.” The lights turn on. “No Tae, too bright.”
Taehyung ignores you, straddling your lap. He giggles, rocking his hips back and forth while his hands dimple the pillow on each side of your head. He is in a flowy blouse and skin tight trousers, wearing jewellery. Almost as if he dressed up for you.
You let out a fond scoff and throw your arm over your eyes, rubbing his thigh mindlessly with your other hand.
“You’re lucky you’re cute”, you mumble with a smile on your lips.
Taehyung leans down and places affectionate kisses along your jawline and neck, eliciting purrs of contentment from you. He also stubs you with the tip of his nose every now and then. 
“I truly have good reasons for waking you”, he speaks softly between kisses.
“Mhm, they better be good”, you are joking, making him smile against your skin. He dances his fingertips along your arms until he has your hands under them. He takes them, holding them tightly as he straightens up.
“Do you want to sneak out with me?”
“Huh?”
“Sneak out with me. Please.” 
“Sneak out? Who are we sneaking out from?”
Taehyung shrugs his shoulders, grinning boyishly.
“Just no one in particular. It sounds more exciting this way.”
You really love his imaginative mind and how he finds so much joy in role playing. Not only in sexual ways, but in general. Taehyung really loves to daydream about different scenarios and then act them out with one of you. He is so adorable.
“Fine.” You slide your hands from his hold to caress his thighs. “Let’s assume that we’re sneaking out, where are we going?”
“That you will only find out once you come with me.”
You laugh.
Taehyung grins. 
“Okay fine, you’ve got my interest piqued. I’ll come with you.”
“Yippie”, Taehyung exclaims and rolls off of you, picking you up bridal style.
“Tae, oh god warn me next time”, you laugh, throwing your head back as he twirls with you.
He sets you down soon after, taking you by your hand to lead you outside. Your journey takes you out of your wing and the estate. His horse is waiting at the end of the stairs.
“What’s Starlight doing here?”
“She shall be our method of escape. Now may I?”
“What are you gonna do?”
Taehyung places his hands on your hips, “allow me to show you.”
“Okay?”
He picks you up and lifts you onto the horse so you were sitting on it sideways. He keeps an arm around your thighs, mounting the saddle in a skilful movement. 
So now you are sitting in front of him while he keeps you steady with his arms. He meets your giddy gaze, giving you a smile.
“Shall we escape, my darling?”
“Yeah, let’s escape”, you say, resting your head against his chest.
Taehyung clicks his tongue to get the horse to move. The horse trots off, walking slowly so you would have it comfortable.
“Oh god.” You snuggle closer, giggling. “This is this craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Isn’t it so wonderful?”
“Yeah, it’s so romantic.”
“Indeed it is.” He agrees and sighs. “Oh darling, the night is wonderful. I am so delighted to spend it with you.”
“Me too. Where are we going?”
“Just someplace no one will ever find us.”
You smile. That doesn’t sound bad at all.
Your journey takes you away from the estate, past meadows and through the forest until another meadow is before your eyes. In the middle of it, an old barn is standing, waiting to be used again.
“Do you see the building in the distance?” Taehyung asks you.
“Are we going there?”
“Indeed we are. We must take shelter before the weather changes.”
You look up at the sky. It is so clear that one can see every single star in the universe. You feel yourself smiling. Taehyung is being playful again.
“Thankfully we found it when we did. I would have hated to get wet.”
“Indeed”, Taehyung agrees, sneaking a glance at you. He is visibly giddy because you are playing along.
Taehyung helps you off Starlight once you have reached the barn.
“Do you perhaps want to close your eyes for me?” he asks.
“Don’t tell me you have something prepared”, you say, closing your eyes.
“Perhaps I have”, he says and takes your hand, “open them once I tell you to.”
“Okay I will. Gosh Tae, you’re getting me so excited right now.”
He chuckles, leading you and his horse inside the barn. He ties Starlight to one of the pillars then wraps his arm around your waist.
“Don’t frighten, I will jump.”
“Ju-aah!”
Your feet leave the ground as Taehyung leaps up onto the second floor. He lands without sound, setting you down carefully.
“Holy moly, that was so scary”, you curse.
“Forgive me, but the good news is that you can open your eyes now.”
You open your eyes to dozens and dozens of candles illuminating a small area of the hay loft. Taehyung laid out a blanket on top of the hay and made it even more comfortable with pillows. 
“Tae”, you gasp, looking at him in flabbergasted breathlessness.
“Surprise.” He smiles. “You mentioned how you wanted to try love making in a hay loft and so I figured that I could fulfil this wish of yours.”
“Tae, oh my god…”
“Obviously only if you wish the same. I brought many blankets so if you only want to talk or hug or fall asleep again, we can do so as well. I merely thought that we could do what we couldn’t do at your grandparents’ home.”
He studies your features shyly.
“What’s the matter? Why are you not saying anything? Do you not like it?”
You shake your head and close the distance, hugging him tightly.
“I love it so much. I’m just speechless because it’s so nice. Oh Tae, I love it so much.”
Taehyung hugs you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your pulse is heightened. 
“You do?”
“I do. So much. Gosh, you are so cute.” You melt into him. “I can’t believe you prepared all of this. It’s so romantic. And beautiful. And nice. And amazing.”
He breaks away just so he can gaze at you, holding both your hands as he does.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it so much. Gosh Tae, thank you so much. I appreciate it so much.”
He smiles, guiding your hands to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles.
“Based on how often you said so much, I can sense your honesty”, he jokes, making you laugh.
“I am. I’m honest.”
His eyes soften. “I love you very much, my darling.”
“I love you too, Tae darling.”
You and he gaze at the other, sharing silence. You are the one to break said silence, showing him your giddiness by lowering your eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, it’s just weird to know that we’re going to have sex now.”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” You meet his eyes. “I’m more of a spontaneous lover. I don’t know how to start stuff like this.”
“I see. Shall I start it then?”
“Yes.”
“May I help you relax?”
You feel tingles in your stomach. Yup, he is definitely doing magic already. With a fluttering pulse you nod your head.
Taehyung closes the distance with a kiss to your neck. You roll your head to the side, sighing his name. His kiss feels so good when it promises sweet love making. His big, tender hands let go of yours so they can travel along your torso. Being touched likes this truly shows you how thin the fabric of your sleeping clothes truly is. The heat of his touch is sinking into the deepest fibres of your body, exciting you comfortably.
“You have the most beautiful neck, my darling”, Taehyung whispers.
“Tae…”
“Mhm”, he bites your earlobe playfully, making you gasp and clutch his waist. It brings in his flowy shirt, showing your hands how small his waist actually was. “Allow me to help you get comfortable.”
“You can do whatever you want to me.”
He smiles, squeezing your waist, “mhm, don’t test me. I might be tempted to get rough with you.”
He is being playful, making you giggle and squirm. He definitely knows how to get you into the right mindset.
He chuckles and presses his lips to your ear.
“Jump.”
You do so, sighing when he catches you in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, burying your hands deep in his dark locks. They feel a little cold from the nightly ride, hugging your fingers softly. 
He is gazing up at you, giving you his giddiest smile, “my beautiful. You are so incredibly beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful too. Oh Tae”, you say, claiming his lips in a kiss.
Taehyung sighs, kissing you back eagerly. He craved the taste of you and the softness of your lips. 
Lost in the kiss, he carries you to the blanket. He kneels down, making sure to lie you down carefully. Once you are on your back, he places himself over you, kissing you like this while his hips move against you carefully. 
It isn’t long that you have to break the kiss to gasp and look at him. Your legs squeeze his waist, your fingers fall from his hair to grasp his upper arms instead.
“Is this alright for me to do?” he makes sure, caressing your cheeks.
“Yes”, you sigh, rolling your hips into him. He shivers from the sensation, moaning quietly. He is getting hard. It turns you on a lot.
“You are so beautiful. Oh darling, you are so beautiful”, he whispers, making your heart race. 
“Do you love me?”
“I love you like the moon loves the sun. Because without her, he wouldn’t shine.”
“Oh god”, you giggle, hiding away in his arm. “Taehyung, oh my god. This was so romantic.” 
He smiles fondly, kissing your newly exposed neck and jawline.
“You are adorable, my sweetest”, he whispers and moves the collar of your dress aside so his lips could worship your shoulder and collarbone. He caresses the parts he isn’t currently kissing. His fingertips are so tender against your body.
Only once he truly kissed every inch of the exposed spot, does he move on to another. He guides your head into a different position with his hand gently around your throat. 
The way you gaze up at him makes his heart feel alive. Submission. The kind of safe, warm submission only someone dearly trusted can bring out.
“Do you feel good?” he asks.
“Yes”, you sigh.
“That makes me happy. Relax, my darling. I have you”, he says and exposes your other shoulder to shower you in the adoration you deserve. It is the same than before and yet different because you beg him for more very soon. “What do you want?”
“Can you touch my boobs?” 
“Of course, everything my darling wants. I am here to serve you.” 
And so it happens that Taehyung kisses your exposed shoulder and sucks hickeys to your neck and collarbone while his left hand cradles your breasts. He massages them gently over the thin material of your sleeping gown, dragging the warmest tingles to the surface. He squeezes them as tenderly as possible and rubs your nipples when the affection brings them to the surface.
“Oh god”, you get out breathlessly.
“Is this good for you?” 
“Yes…”
“Good, that’s good. You are so beautiful, my darling sweetheart.” 
Taehyung fixes the collar of your dress before he takes another path. He wouldn’t want you to feel chilly in the nightly air. He kisses his way to your chest, moaning in delight because there is nothing better than worshiping you. You should know how remarkable you are. Taehyung is still struck in awe about your magical potential, how you took them to another realm and gave them a chance at being human again. He is grateful for it, grateful that he got to experience racing heartbeats and proper warmth again. And he needs you to feel the appreciation he harbors for you. There is so much of it. And it is never ending.
“My beautiful darling. How I adore you.” 
He is careful at first, only brushing his lips over the paths of your breasts. But you moan and sigh so sweetly and your nipples are so hard each time he brushes against them, that Taehyung cannot control himself any longer. He wraps his lips around one of them, sucking and licking the swollen bud through your dress. 
“Ahng”, the noise you let out assures him that he is doing a good job. You arch your back, chasing the fiery sensation. The fabric in his mouth is soaked entirely, his mouth is so warm. You can feel each lick. But the true peak of his affection is when he releases your nipple to suck on the other and the coldness of the air soaks the wet fabric. The spot is freezing, forcing goosebumps to the surface of your sensitive skin. 
“Tae…” 
Taehyung purrs happily as he sucks on your nipple, sliding his fingers to the other to massage it. It is cold to the touch. The fabric sticks to it and gives him a perfect feel of its shape. So he merely brushes his fingertips over it, giving it minimal attention so you can continue to shiver underneath him. 
It isn’t until Taehyung is stuck in the blissful moment of changing sides with both hands playing with your nipples that you stop him. You tug on a bundle of his hair, whimpering softly.
“Stop, please.”
He sits up. Your legs are around his hips that way.
“Did you change your mind?” 
You shake your head vigorously, “it, it makes me want to cum.”
He smiles, “well this…oh darling, this”, he leans down again, nipping at your breasts, “this is indeed a predicament. What should I do with you, mhm?” 
The teasing tone in his honey voice makes you shudder.
“Oh god, Tae.”
“May I continue? Is this your wish?”
“Yes”, you whimper, arching your back.
“How wonderful. Relax, you are in safe hands”, he whispers sweetly and gives you time to breathe by guiding his kisses to your stomach instead. He moans and sighs, worshiping every inch of it because you deserve to feel loved. 
He loves you so much and he hopes that through his kisses and touches he can make you experience it. Oh, how he adores you. How he wants to make you feel good. 
It isn’t long and he has reached your legs. Your sleeping gown ends a little over your knees. He stops, playing with the hem of it.
“May I lift it?” 
“Yes”, you answer him, lifting your hips eagerly to which he laughs and pins them down again.
“Patience. I shall tell you when you need to raise them.”
“Are you taking it slow?”
“Of course I am, my darling”, he assures you with teasing playfulness in his voice, smiling against your skin when you whine in impatience. But he doesn’t let you rush him. He kisses your thighs slowly and thoroughly. He sucks hickeys into your skin, gives the softest parts gentle love bites, guides his hands over your silken skin. He wants you to feel breathless from all the love he pours into his affection. 
And you do. You feel breathless, bucking your hips up in impatience. Your pussy aches. You haven't felt her throb and pulse as much as she does right now in a long time. You experienced the tenderness of his lips all over your body and you need it on your pussy. Now. Instantly. Right this second.
“Please.”
“Please what? You have to tell me what you need”, he coos, head hidden in your dress.
“Lick me.”
“Like this?” he taunts, guiding his tongue down your inner thigh. He is doing this on purpose. He is acting oblivious just to get you to tell him. He is playing with you because he is mean like that.
“No”, you mewl, shivering.
“What possibly could you mean then?”
“Oh god Tae, please just lick my pussy”, you beg, fucking the air aggressively. 
He chuckles, pinning you down easily.
“You are adorable.” 
“Please.”
“Adorable. You are just adorable”, he rasps and places his mouth against your pussy. He darts his tongue out, licking a thick stripe along your sensitive heat.
“Aah a-ah, aah, aah, a-ah”, you are noisy instantly, twisting the blanket because you cannot twist his hair.
It is important to mention that you are still wearing your panties at this point of the night. And that Taehyung doesn’t let this stop him from tasting you. He sucks out your taste, purring deeply because there is no taste more saccharine than that of your heat. Especially when it is soaked deep into your panties and he needs to work for it. He sucks and sucks and sucks until the fabric is soaked in his spit. 
“So sweet. My darling’s so sweet”, he lulls and presses his tongue against your clothed clit. He uses his neck muscles to move his head, grinding the flat of his hot tongue against your clothed heaven. 
“Oh god, oh god, oh god”, you are out of breath, completely flabbergasted by what he makes you feel. The sensation of his skin is missing, but everything else is there. His heat, the slick wetness, his moans. And because he is soaking your panties, the parts he doesn’t lick are cold in the night air. You are in a constant state of different temperatures. Hot mouth and cold panties. Your pussy weeps to make sense of it. Quite frankly, you want to weep as well. 
“I can’t get enough. Mhm darling, you taste so good. So sweet. Darling, oh darling, my darling”, he babbles between his licks, humping the floor needily. 
He will make you climax. You didn’t think it possible that something like this could make you orgasm, but thinking back, you are foolish. Of course he could make you orgasm this way. It is Taehyung and Taehyung will always show you new ways of how sex can feel. It is never boring with him. 
Although tonight, you wish that he would be just a little bit boring. You are burning up and it’s so unfair that you are already close. 
“Stop please, you’re making me cum” you beg him, trying to grasp him through the fabric of your dress.
Taehyung growls playfully, breaking away from you even if you instantly whine for more.
“Adorable. You are simply adorable”, he coos and appears from your dress to smile at you. His lips are puffy, his hair ruffled from being buried under your dress. 
“Why are you like this?” you keen, wiping at your eyes so you wouldn’t cry.
“What do you mean?”
“I, I don’t know. Oh god, Tae.”
“Did you like how I licked you?” he is taunting you.
You spill tears, making grabby hands at him. He places himself over you instantly, holding your hands on each side of your head. 
“Yeah, liked it”, you sniffle, “Tae, I feel droopy.”
“You look droopy. And beautiful. So very beautiful”, he praises, kissing the tip of your nose, “don’t be scared. Allow it to happen. I am here.”
You sink into the droopy headspace further. You are completely his’ right now, so vulnerable that it would break your heart if he stopped it. But he doesn’t stop it. Because as much as you are floating in a safe subspace, Taehyung is floating in a warm Domspace. He loves every second with you, feeling high with you. 
“I love you”, he tells you.
“I love you too”, you tell him.
“So beautiful”, he says and disappears between your legs again. He lifts your hips with one hand, using the other to take off your panties. He gives them a deep sniff and a kiss, “so sweet”, then places them aside. He uses the position to push the dress over your butt, letting it punch around your waist. Only then does he lower your hips again, lifting your legs next to prop them up. You are spread like this, exposed to his eyes and the cold air. 
It is sinful how he is still entirely dressed while you are already showing him your parts most private. It is as if he is inspecting you. You can’t breathe properly at this aspect. This is so arousing to you.
“I know that I am repeating myself, but you are so beautiful, my darling. Look at you. Look at the shape of you, the beautiful colours of you, how wet you are. Oh, I want to treat your petals like they deserve to be treated.”
You clench around nothing. Taehyung delights at the view.
“How adorable. May I touch?” 
“Yes, please”, you beg him, spreading your legs further.
Taehyung places his left hand on your lower tummy, using his fingers to spread your pussy. He traces the shapes of you with his right hand, using only his fingertips. 
You are mewling instantly. You are aware that you sound needy and desperate, but you can’t help yourself. He makes you sensitive and each touch he places feels like the one able to break you. 
“How soft you are. How warm. How wet”, he rasps, gazing at you, “does this feel good, my darling?” 
He pulls you apart just a little more and rubs your newly exposed clit in circular motions. He makes sure to put special emphasis whenever his fingers rub up and down. 
“Yes ah, aaah Tae…”
“How beautiful, oh so beautiful.”
You are so wet that his clit massage is easy. And he makes you feel so good that you keep leaking more and more slick. His initial plan was to massage your other parts as well, but you are moaning so sweetly with his finger on your clit that Taehyung doesn’t have the heart to move away. He massages you eagerly, keeping track of your orgasm by looking at your glistening entrance.
Whenever you get close, you clench it involuntarily. He learned this about you from paying attention to whenever you played. 
“Keep breathing for me, there we go. Such a good girl”, he talks to you each time you get a little restless. And it works at first. It works perfectly, but soon all the breathing in the world couldn’t bring you down again. You clench. Taehyung’s only option is to pull away. 
“No please don’t edge me anymore. Please”, you wail, shaking in desperation. He has been playing with you for too long. He kept telling you to breathe, slowed down whenever you felt it coming closer. It’s been too long. You just want to cum.
“Breathe darling. I know it hurts, so I need you to breathe.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“You asked me to relax you and so I did.”
“What?” 
You meet his eyes, having to gulp. Crazed playfulness is burning in them. It is as if he is fucking you raw with just his gaze.
“My darling, your pretty cunt has never looked more ready to take me. Look at how wet you are, how swollen your petals are, how empty your hole looks. You are so perfectly prepared. I merely did what you asked of me.”
Taehyung is normally such a gentleman that you sometimes forget that behind this mannered mask a huge, nasty pervert is hiding. You are reminded again and it’s messing you up.
He is right. You are empty and swollen and wet and you need him to fill you. Now. Instantly. Right this second.
“Please fuck me, please.” You sit up and begin tugging at his clothes. “Please fuck me, please Tae. Take it off, please.”
“Calm down darling, calm down”, he chuckles, guiding your hands away, “I would hate to have to tie up your grabby hands. Let me and be patient, yes?” 
“I want to be fucked.”
“I know darling, but the more you hinder me, the longer you have to wait. Are you going to be my good girl now, mhm?”
“Yes Sir”, you get out obediently because he managed to put you back in your place with just his words.
“There we go. That’s my good girl. You know, the better you behave, the harder I will fuck you. Only good behaviour will get you rewarded”, he talks as he undresses, riling you up even more. He takes off his pants first.
You ogle his cock. It is thrashing around, leaking droplets of his excitement. You want to suck him off, but you hold back. You need to be his good girl.
Taehyung doesn’t pay mind to his cock, unlacing his shirt so he could pull it off. He talks as he does it.
“Although don’t misunderstand, shall you misbehave, I shall fuck you just as hard. I will simply stop listening to your pleas for a break.” He pulls his shirt over his head. “But I am certain that you want to be my good girl tonight. Am I wrong in my-”
He forgets to talk. To breathe. To even properly function. You are naked, presenting yourself to him on all fours. You are arching your back, showing your glistening pussy and hole to him.
“What the fuck?” is all he gets out as his shirt slides from his weakened fingers.
You have him cursing. Your position has the desired effect on him. You mewl in realisation, sticking your ass out more. 
“What, what”, he stutters, gasping for air, “what…dar-darling, what are you do-doing?” 
“Please fuck me.” 
“Holy fuck”, he runs his hand through his own hair in distress, “darling, I should be so angry at you. Oh you drive me insane, you perfect goddess”, you gets out and attacks you with bites all over your buttocks.
You giggle, fleeing him with minimal effort.
“I’m going to eat you. You are too perfect.” He babbles between his eager bites. "Perfect. So fucking perfect”, he growls and sticks his tongue into your hole just long enough that you start gasping. He couldn’t help himself. When you present yourself so deliciously, Taehyung just needs to steal a taste. 
He doesn’t linger for long because ever since you presented yourself like this, his cock started aching unbearably and he really needs to be inside you. 
He still manages to get you breathless and twisting the blanket when he pulls back. He closes in, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy. Gently. Right against your clit to make you flinch with each spank. 
“One day I shall fuck your beautiful ass full of my seed”, he lulls his words, twitching each time his cockhead slaps against your clit. It feels just as good for him as it does for you.
“Taehyung, ah Taehyung”, you moan as your head begins to turn. You didn’t even know how much you needed your clit spanked until he gave it to you. And to make matters even worse, Taehyung gives you breaks by rubbing his cock through your puffy folds. He does so until you gasp, exchanging the grinds with new spanks. He will definitely make you climax if he keeps this going.
“I’ll play with you all day, make you wear different toys and take you out on a date. I’d make you carry a bag with all the toys I’d work up your tolerance with. Just imagine. I’d take you to the bathroom and make you bend over so I can exchange the damned toy in your ass.” He growls the last sentence, spanking your clit especially hard.
You flinch forward, twisting the blanket. You can only mewl because all your concentration is on not cumming accidentally. He grinds against you after the spank, staring at your ass with darkened eyes.
“Just imagine once we reached the last toy of the evening. How big it would be, how stretched out you’d be. You would feel it with each step, would feel it when I sit you down in my car to drive you home. By the time, I have you in my wing, you’d be fucking begging for my cock. Fuck darling”, he grits his teeth, huffing out air. “Look at what you are doing to me. You have me cursing and spitting such disgusting things.” 
He spanks your clit again. Doing so over and over and over…he makes you cum. It’s going to happen. You can’t hold back anymore and so you ready yourself. A mistake, because Taehyung picks up on it instantly and pulls away. 
The wail of agony you let out almost makes him feel bad. Almost. He leans down and kisses your spine, rubbing your sides gently.
“Breathe darling. Be my good girl and breathe”, he speaks sweetly again. The once feral Taehyung from before is tamed. “I am sorry for losing my composure. That must have been scary for you.”
You sob. He is actually making fun of you. Holy fuck. This is just a game to him.
“Please”, you beg weakly.
“Please what? I told you darling, I can only give you what you want when you are using your words. Please don’t disobey me, my darling.”
You shudder. He is so good with his words.
“Fuck me. I can’t do this anymore. I need your cock. Please.”
“There we go. See? It wasn’t that hard to use your words”, he speaks sickeningly sweet and presses his tip against your puffy entrance. He applies no pressure and he is already slipping inside, whimpering in surprise because your pussy is practically sucking him in. 
“Thank you”, you mewl, pressing back into him until he sits inside you entirely. It isn’t often that he fits inside completely, making you sob his name because it feels so good to you. 
“Do, do I hurt?” he stutters, fighting with his air. He wants to move, but holds back for your sake. He couldn’t live with himself if he knew that he was causing you discomfort.
“No, it feels so good, please move.”
“I am keeping my, my cock human. To make it seem as…as if we…are…” he barely gets his words out as he rolls his hips into you. He grasps your hips, guiding them so it would feel the best for both of you. “Heavens, it is difficult to talk.”
“You don’t have to”, you squeak out.
“I don’t, good”, he says and moans, rolling his head back sensually, “just tell me that you feel good.”
“I do. I feel so good.”
“Darling…You feel good too, so good…” 
The sex becomes more intense now that you got rid of the pressure of talking. When you and Taehyung are like this, it is impossible to talk and knowing that it is okay to only moan makes this feel like an acid trip. He fucks into you deep and hard, moaning and growling while you answer him in high pitched squeaks and ecstatic sobs. 
The wooden planks feel hard under your knees and against the cheek you are squishing down on them. The blanket makes it comfortable.
“Are your knees alright? Is it not too hard?” Taehyung still checks up on you because he is starting to feel the hardness of the boards as well.
“Good. Is good. Tae, I love this”, you mewl, throbbing around him.
“I love it too. Such a good girl. You are taking me so well”, he praises and looks at where you are connecting. He pulls out completely, spanks your hole just once then pushes back inside, growling deeply at the sinful view. He has you even puffier than before, his cock is so thick inside you that it squeezes out your juices. Taehyung buries himself into you until his crotch sits against your pussy and you can soak his pubes with your sweet nectar. 
“You are getting me so messy”, he lulls and grabs your buttocks to spread you on him. The view is so arousing to him. You on his cock while your soft body jiggles each time he slams his hips into you.
Something happened to Taehyung. You have no idea what, but the way he fucks you suddenly feels way too good. You can barely breathe or stay on your knees. Constant waves of hot electricity shoot through your entire body and the warmth between your legs makes you weep.
What you aren’t aware of is that Taehyung found his composure again. He may have been lost in the sensation at first, but he found his control again. And now he is going to bring you to ruin. The view of him fucking your pretty cunt motivates him. The constant squelching of your juices and the sensarion of them on his dick makes him want to fuck you better just to increase them. The ecstatic sounds you can’t control from coming out, urge him to keep them going. 
Taehyung is back and he is going to make sure that you lose yourself completely. He slides his right hand to your front and pinches your clit between his fingers so he can roll it quickly.
You scream, collapsing on the ground. Taehyung lets you, but pulls up your hips so he can still reach your clit. The position tightens you and he has to growls from the deepest parts of his stomach to bear the heaven you make him feel. 
“Taehyung, Taehyung please. Taehyung too much. Taehyung”, you sound panicked, kicking the floorboards as best as your pinned down legs allow you to. 
“Don’t be scared. I’m here. Let go my darling, let go”, he encourages you, rolling your clit between his fingers. 
“You’ll keep going afterwards”, you wail.
“Of course I will.”
The aspect of being overstimulated is scaring you, but you can’t hold back anymore. It’s been too many times he denied you. You have to cum.
You break with a scream of his name. 
“Yes! Good girl”, he exclaims, fucking you gently as you shake and writhe. He knows exactly when to speed up again. He doesn’t miss the window for even a millisecond, drilling into you at the perfect time to completely ruin you. 
You wail his name, clawing at the boards as he makes you see stars. You genuinely only exist for pleasure right now. He fucks you so good and with such precision that you would dissolve if he stopped right now. You were scared of the overstimulation but now you need it as if it was your air. 
Taehyung holds you down with both hands. He knows your clit is swollen enough that his rough thrusts are enough to stimulate it as well. You are sucking him off with how tightly you are squeezing him. It messes him up to the point where he can’t pretend to be proper anymore.
“You are such a perfect slut. Keep fucking screaming like that. Oh, I’m going to fill you up until you can’t hold it in anymore. Hear me? I’m going to make you my pretty cumslut.”
“I can’t hold it anymore, please take it out of me”, you wail, meaning something entirely different. He is going to make you squirt, but you can’t let go because of the squeezed position. 
“My cock?” 
“No, no the, the liquid.”
“Liquid?”
You can’t be blamed. Your brain is dead. Liquid is all you could think of.
“Please”, you cough out a sob, “please make it stop. I can’t take it out.”
“Oh! Darling, just tell me”, he finally understands and pulls you back onto your knees, pressing down on your clit to finally set you off. 
You squeak as it happens, shaking against your will as you spray it everywhere.
“There we go, fucking wet yourself. I’m sorry for not noticing sooner. I bet you must have felt so full. That’s my good girl, let it all out.” 
His rough fucking makes it so that it goes everywhere and it feels so good. Such relief you haven’t felt in a long time. He is right. You felt so full and it’s finally leaving you. 
“Urgh, I can’t hold back like this. This is really turning me on, darling”, Taehyung gets out between his gritted teeth.
“I want your cum please”, you allow him.
“Thank you, darling thank you”, he moans and throws his head back, emptying his plumb balls deep inside you. The strength with which it shoots out of him and the masses he produces, are indicators that he was truly human no more. For just a second you feared for the strength of your cervix as he shot his sticky cum against it with such force that you could feel it. If you didn’t feel fucked already, the way he stuffs you does the rest. 
He pulls out after his high, moaning with you when big dollops of his seed leak out of you. With how well he fucked your pussy, it is unavoidable that your lose hole can’t hold it in. 
“Sorry”, you still apologise, trying to clench.
“Don’t. Relax. I’ll clean you up later”, he assures you and drops down beside you, pulling you with him so you are resting on his chest.
“It’s going everywhere.”
“I told you that it is alright. I have an eager tongue. I can clean whatever mess you make.”
“Oh god, Tae”, you finally melt into him, letting yourself relax even if that means his cum is seeping out of you in a constant trickle.
“Doesn’t that feel better? To relax and to let it happen?” he asks, caressing the back of your head.
“Yes, better. Good”, you sigh, melting into a puddle of giddiness. You feel so safe with him.
“That’s what I like to hear. Relax, my darling”, he whispers and kisses the crown of your head. “How are you feeling otherwise?”
“Good”, you whisper and shiver, “oh god, I feel so giddy, this was so good.”
“It was incredible”, he rolls to his side so you were nuzzled into him, “I am so proud of you. You took me like such a good girl. I loved every second with you.”
You gaze up at him, spilling new tears when he wipes your old ones with such tenderness and care.
“I feel so safe with you”, you squeak out.
“You are safe with me. I promise you”, he says honestly and kisses your forehead, “my darling girl. Oh, how I want to treat you right.”
“You do. You treat me so right.”
He smiles, kisses your forehead again.
“That is good to hear.”
“I’m so happy that we went on this trip. I feel so much safer with you.”
“You do?” 
“Yes. Yes, like, like I felt when we first started out. I was so scared back then, so confused and helpless, but you were my safe space. I feel like this again when I’m with you.”
“Oh.” Taehyung lowers his head. Tears escape him.
“Why are you crying?” you gasp, wiping them instantly.
“Because I wished for you to trust me like this again for ages. What you and I had back then was magical to me. I feel so happy knowing that we have it back.” 
“Oh Tae, you are so sweet.”
“Thank you for saying this. Oh sweetest”, he kisses your forehead, “I am grateful for this trip as well. I feel so much closer to you as well as Kook and Yoongi.”
“Me too”, you say and giggle.
He giggles with you.
“But now, you must tell me how it was. How did you like your first time in a hayloft?” he asks afterwards.
You wiggle in his arms happily.
“I actually kinda forgot that we are in a hayloft.”
“You did? How sad”, Taehyung pouts before he reaches over you to get something. Moments later you have a few pieces of hay in your hair and one of it poking your forehead as he tickles your face with it.
“Tae, what is that?” you cackle, escaping him with zero effort. Quite frankly, you are snuggling into him.
“The proper hayloft experience. You have something in your hair, darling. Let me get it for you.”
“Yes, because you put it there”, you laugh, squeaking in laughter soon after when Taehyung rolls you into the hay and begins kissing your neck.
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bbyobbyo · 1 day
Text
content: hard and soft thoughts, extremely suggestive (18+), dad!cheol
Thinking about Choi Seungcheol and how both of you have ridiculously high sex drives and can't keep your hands off of each other especially at the beginning stages of your relationship.
How both of you would be the type to jump each other as soon as they come home, and even more so after the times where either of you are traveling and couldn't see each other for extended periods of time.
How you'd always find ways and excuses to push the limits and do it anywhere anytime. Birthdays? You're at it as soon as the clock hits midnight. Anniversaries? So many weekend getaways where you two hardly leave the bed. New hairstyle? Of course you pounce on him to show him how good he looks. Bad day? He will literally take the day off to worship you in every way imaginable.
How you two gain sort of a reputation amongst the members. Whenever you get invited along for group trips, everyone has to play a game to pick rooms and losers will always take the room next to yours where they're submitted to all sorts of noises throughout the night.
How the members ask him out of pure curiosity how often he actually gets lucky and are in jaw-dropping shock at his smug response of “every day if possible. sometimes more than once.”
How even after years of being together, there's always something new to try because he loves spoiling you with spicy gifts and lingerie whenever he can.
How one year when Father's Day comes around, you finally ask the question if he wants to be a real daddy. It doesn't take long before he's all over you again, determined to put a baby in you.
How emotional he gets when you tell him that the tests came out positive, with a newfound determination to dote on you more than he has in his entire life for the next 9 months.
How giddy he'd be going shopping for all things baby related. He will stop at nothing to ensure his kid gets the best things in life, doing hours of research with you on what products are safest and most highly rated for new parents.
How absolutely SPOILED ROTTEN his kid would be by his 12 godfathers. Emergency childcare wouldn't even be an issue in your household with a dozen competitive men all trying to win uncle of the year.
How despite all the anxiety and doubt that comes with being a first time parent, he knows it will all be ok because he has you by his side.
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starfxkr · 1 day
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can we have trailer park JJ, rubbing your puffy pussy after you’ve had a long day at work. just laying on his chest, daddy takes such good care of you littering you with soooooo much praise and telling you to let it out. maybe u cry bc it feels so good and you squirt
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
today was a nightmare, you were in the weeds for 70% of your shift because the new hostess kept putting people in your section, and you wanted nothing more than to just come home and relax after you wrung her neck like a wet towel.
but jj helped you forget all that, sitting you on his lap naked as the day you were born with your legs spread as he circled your throbbing clit so gently you wanted to scream, but you didn't. you just let him take the reigns.
"you're doin good sweet pea, just take it easy. gonna make yo open right on up for me." jj kissed your cheek but he didn't pull back, instead letting his lips linger as he trailed them to the sensitive spot under your ear, ghosting them just enough to make you moan. he spread your lips open with the v of his fingers on one hand an circled your twitching hole with another, barely dipping in despite your frustration, "your pussy's hungry ain't it? i bet you been needing this all day."
tearfully you nod, practically gasping when he finally gives you want and you struggle not to cum right then and there, "ne-needed it so bad, today was so bad-"
"shh, don't gotta worry bout that now, papa's got you." he curls his fingers up, and the squelch of your cunt is so loud you'd be embarrassed if you didn't feel so good. he continued kissing you, whispering soft praises in between of how pretty you were and how good you were at taking his fingers. it was no surprise you dripped a wet patch onto his sweat pants.
you shifted slightly to look at him, batting your lashes at him in a way that had his already hard cock throbbing against your ass, "i-i love you..."
jj groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss that makes a surge of wetness coat his fingers, and moves faster, now rubbing your clit in quick motions and stroking harder against that sticky spot inside you to make you shake, "fuck i love you too sugar, more than you even know."
by now you can barely keep up with the kiss, even as he chases your lips and you can do nothing but lean your head against his shoulder--eyes screwing shut as your begin to tremble around his fingers, and he knows you're there.
"just let it go, i wanna see how pretty you are when you cum go ahead.
with a long shuddering moan you cum, vaguely aware of the stunned oh shit coming from jj as you squirt in quick, hot gushes--more than you ever did before and your body feels it because he doesn't stop, smacking your sensitive clit and he wrings you dry and your left crying and blubbering for him to slow down, that it's too much and with one last he stops, cupping your puffy cunt as you sob and he shifts you in his arms to cradle you instead.
"shit, m'sorry sweet pea, you okay?"
shivering, you nod, taking a death breath as your body settles, "uh huh, just- jesus christ that was a lot."
"i know it was, thought you needed it though i don't like when you're so stressed."
this time you just hum in agreement, sniffing slightly as you bury further into his chest, "we can talk about it later...i'm hungry now though."
jj snorts, leaning down to nip at your shoulder just to hear you giggle, "yeah, i fuckin bet. you're gonna eat me outta house and home."
he gets up and sits you in his chair instead, kissing you one good time before he walks to the kitchen to fix you something to eat.
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soupuurr · 1 day
Text
𝑠𝑢𝑏!𝑐ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠 head-cannons
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pairing. sub!chris x dom!reader
genre. smut
content warnings. explicit content, extreme sub!chris, bratty!chris, dacryphilia, dumbification, overstimulation, ruined orgasms, begging, bondage.
ೃ⁀➷
sub!chris who piteously watches his own cum pool up on his stomach. pathetically grabbing at your wrist with tear-stricken eyes until you finally take mercy on him and let him cum once more. just when the poor boy would think you’re done, you’d coat his sensitive cock with his slick. scooping up the lukewarm cum on his stomach and fisting him at an unforgiving pace. he would helplessly cry out—back arched and squirming against the soft sheets stained with fluid.
sub!chris who acts all bratty in public because he secretly seeks your punishments. he can’t wait to come home only to be tied up like a little slut—ruined orgasm after ruined orgasm until his throat is sore from his frustrated pleads. he can’t stop his moans, hanging his head low as you push him to another orgasm—only to release his cock at the last second and watch as more cum leaks down his tip.
“n-no more! fuck! ‘m gonna cum again! please keep going this time, please!”
sub!chris who stubbornly challenges you and always loses. his pride is too big for his own good, muttering things like “is that all you’ve got?” just to get a kick out of you. you make sure to put him in his place, pushing a vibrator down on his tip until he’s babbling incoherently and fisting the sheets with white knuckles. the smug look from before is completely wiped off of his face, instead his blue eyes beseech for an ounce of forgiveness—nose and cheeks rosy pink from his regretful tears.
“please! i’m sorry, ‘m sorry! i won’t do it again i promise!”
sub!chris who is always so horny. something as innocent as a simple kiss would make his cock hard in his pants. you mess with him often, pretending to drop something before bending over right in front of him. he can’t focus until you fuck the horny-ness out of him—letting you ride him with your hands around his neck, his eyes can’t help but roll back into his skull as you scratch your nails down his chest.
“‘m so horny, can you feel me underneath you? i need you so bad. need you to ride me.”
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a.n.
since i did sub!matt, why not do sub!chris?? 😝😝 this one is def a little more intense than the matt one tho…
on a real note, thank you guys for 50 followers!! it means a lot to me! i’ve been writing a shit ton, definitely a lot more than i thought i would. hopefully i’ll lock in and keep on my writing grind.
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vivwritesfics · 17 hours
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hiii!!! if you can can you please make a fanfic like (sorry for my bad explaining) basically a fluff fic with oscar piastri and y/n where they meet at like the streets of paris or something romantic like that? (you can give it any ending you want lols)
one of my best friends is from paris and we talk about how it's not the romantic place we all fantasize it to be. but i got you boo
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Paris, France:
The hotel was awful, just awful. But that was what she got she got for booking her holiday on a budget.
The bed must have had bedbugs. She saw one review online (after she had checked in) that suggested it. And, ever since, she could feel the little fuckers crawling all over her skin.
If the bathroom wasn't down the hall, she would have been throwing up from anxiety. But, instead, she shut her eyes and tried to fall asleep.
And then her neighbours started shagging. Like, bed hitting the wall behind her kind of shagging. Holy shit, she needed to get out of here.
Grabbing her jacket and placing her valuables into her pockets, she headed out of the hotel.
The streets of Paris were a little bit terrifying in the dark. If one of her friends had just done with her, they could have gotten a nicer hotel and she wouldn't have been terrified to walk the streets in the dark. She shouldn't have been out there, she knew, but it was either have a panic attack on the disgusting floor of the hotel room or get out for some fresh air.
It was like there were eyes on her all the time she was walking. She pulled her jacket closer to her body and walked a little faster. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she pretty much marched down the streets of Paris.
Her body collided with somebody else. "Shit," she cried as this persons arms wrapped around her, stopping her from falling.
"Are you okay?" He asked, voice not accompanied by a French accent. "Sorry, I should have been looking at where I was going." He shook his head, floppy, Prince-Charming-from-Shrek hair falling in front of his face.
"It's okay," she said, tightening her grip on the things in her pocket.
He released her. "I'm Oscar," he said, holding out his hand.
She didn't take it, but she did smile at him. "Nice to meet you, Oscar," she replied, not giving her own name.
It was almost like a game, on the streets of Paris. Oscar twisted his wrist and looked at his watch. "Where are you headed? Do you need me to walk you there?"
The red flag in the back of her head was taking a long ass time to raise. "I'm good," she said, because he was still a stranger on the streets of Paris. She began to walk past him. "It really was nice to meet you, Oscar," she said and began walking again.
Santorini, Greece:
The view from her balcony was so fucking pretty. The glittering ocean, the pale sand, the gorgeous architecture. It was a far cry from Paris.
Even on a budget she'd managed somewhere nice. A lot nicer than that hotel room in Paris. Here she felt safe. She left her valuable things in her hotel room (in the safe) and went out to dinner.
It was so damn peaceful. This was the getaway she needed, not those few nights in Paris. This was fucking bliss.
But then he showed up. She was in a little beach front restaurant, having a drink when he came walking past. What did he say his name was? Oscar? What the hell was he doing in Greece?
Her initial reaction was to think he had been followed. But the way he was looking at her, all confused before that look of familiarity crossed his face, it was all so genuine.
"Are you following me?" He asked it in such a teasing way, she immediately knew he wasn't serious.
She kicked out the chair in front of her. "Come have a drink with me, Oscar."
He obeyed and sat himself in the seat opposite her. Almost immediately a waiter came over to take his drink order. As soon as the waiter was gone, she was staring at him. "So, tell me about yourself, Oscar."
"Aren't you gonna tell me your name?" He asked as she sipped her drink.
She thought about it for a moment. "Tell you what, tell me about yourself, and I'll tell you my name."
He held out his hand, and this time she took it. "Deal."
Italy:
Italy had never been on her list of destinations. She didn't understand why not, because it was gorgeous.
But seeing the sights was such a small part of it. She walked behind Oscar, Oscar Piastri the Formula One driver, as he led her through the paddock.
"This can't be real," she said for the fourteenth time since they'd climbed out of the car.
Oscar laughed at her. "It's real," he assured her as he took her to the McLaren garage. He stopped for a second and gave her a minute to step closer and take his hand.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were a race car driver," she said as she squeezed his hand. It wasn't a comforting squeeze, but it had Oscar laughing, again.
"I did," he insisted.
"Yeah, after we'd had four cocktails!"
He led her through the garage, to his drivers room. "Okay, okay. How can I make it up to you?"
He shut the door behind him and she stepped closer. "Hmm," she said and pushed his hair out of his face. "Take me back to Paris?"
"Paris?"
She hummed.
"Okay," he answered, still holding her hand. "I'll take you back to Paris."
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 8 hours
Note
Hi dolly!!
This is my first time asking for a request and i hope it’s okay… but is there anyway you can write something smutty for Eddie?
Bully Eddie x shy reader? Eddie is surprised she got detention so he teases her about it the whole time ! When it’s over he “rewards” her for being good and taking the teasing ??
Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺🥺
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So I took a lil tiny bit of a different approach with this, Reader isn’t as shy as I set out to make her because I’m not the best with shy reader but I hope you still like it, my love!! Also not so loosely based on “good girls” by 5SOS.
Warnings: All characters are 18+, Bully Eddie, “good girl” reader, hair pulling, teasing, unprotected sex, edging, a lil choking, clit slapping, pet names, fluffy ending. 18+MDNI! Wk: A lil over 2k
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Everyone labels you as a “good girl” but the funny thing is, that you aren’t really. You sneak out. You party. You’re no stranger to skipping class. But when you sneak out you just go on night walks for some peace and quiet. And when you go to those parties you tend to keep to yourself, find a nice dark corner to hide in while you sip your drink and observe your peers, hardly noticed. Everyone thought you were a prude virgin, but that wasn’t true either. Thanks to Eddie Munson.
Eddie probably knew the real you better than anyone. The first night you hooked up he happened to be walking through the park you always stop to swing at on your walks and offered you a ride. At those parties he would always find your dark corner and slither his way into it, offering to pass joints back and forth, inevitably ending up with you both sweaty in the back of his van. But that didn’t stop him from calling you things like “Angel” and “goody two shoes” you would always disagree but he would always retort that with “bad girls get caught, and you’ve never been caught, so as far as everyone else is concerned, you’re a good girl.”
So he had this obsession with keeping it that way. He would talk to you at school and parties, but only for so long. He never gave any indication that you guys were hooking up on a regular basis to anyone and he even went as far as to tease you in front of your classmates. He was always tugging on your hair, knocking your books out of your hand, throwing little balled up pieces of paper at your head in the middle of English. You always just roll your eyes, maybe flip him off, tell him to fuck off. But in all honesty? It kind of hurts a little, because you’ve come to really like Eddie, even if you never meant to. That’s why when you heard girls in the locker room talking about how Eddie is probably “an animal in bed” but “they’d never touch him with a ten foot pole because he probably doesn’t shower” you might have seen red.
Not only did you feel territorial of him but you felt protective. So you might have grabbed Nina Johnson by the back of her hair and punched her directly in her nose. The entire locker room went silent aside from the sound of her groans as blood started to drip down her nose. If every single person in the room hadn’t unanimously agreed your gym teacher probably would’ve never believed it was you.
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“Sooo you really aren’t gonna tell me why you’re in here?” Eddie is turned sideways in the chair next to you with his legs spread. His thick ringed fingers tap on the chipped wood of the desk and his boot clad foot shakes against the cracked linoleum as he gives you a pointed look.
“Nope.” You glance over at him with your lips formed into a pout, your eyes wide while you bat your lashes at him innocently.
“C’mon, angel, don’t be like that.” His tongue darts out to wet his plump bottom lip as his eyes roam your figure. “Tell me what my good girl did to land herself in detention with the likes of me. I’m dying to know.”
“Nice try. But still no.” You roll your eyes as you turn back to your book.
“Oooh, she’s sassy today. Why not? Was it something really bad? Did you go to the bathroom without a hall pass? Maybe you stole a book from the library? Wait, wait, don’t tell me you skipped class, angel? Thought you were a good girl.” You know he’s teasing you, trying to get you worked up, in more ways than one and you hate that it’s working.
“Shut up, Eddie, can’t you see that I’m reading?” The next thing you know your book is being ripped from your hands and held in front of Eddie’s face.
“What’re you reading, anyways? Oh - shit, this is kinda dirty, isn’t it sweetheart?” Eddie’s chocolate mischief filled eyes peek at you from over the cover as he wiggles his eyes eyebrows at you. “The knight did what to the princess now?”
“Eddie!” You feel your entire body warm with embarrassment. You reach out to try and grab the book back but he holds it above his head as he chuckles. “Stop being a dick! Give it back!”
“Don’t be greedy, princess, what if I want to know what the knight does next?” You shoot up from your chair and try to reach for the book again but Eddie easily moves it behind his back before you can get it in your grasp. “I think I’ll hold onto it until detention is over, and maybe if you act like a good girl for the next thirty minutes I’ll give it back after.”
“Whatever.” You huff, flopping down in your chair with your arms crossed.
You don’t look at Eddie for the rest of detention, deciding instead to stare out the window and pout while he continues to try and pester you. You were frustrated and tired of his teasing. You immediately grab your backpack and head for the door when the teacher comes into the room to dismiss you, totally ignoring Eddie as he calls after you. You roll your eyes when you hear his chains clanking behind you.
“Hey, princess, wait up! Don’t you want this back?” He catches up to you easily, his hand grasping onto your wrist to get you to stop walking. You whip your head towards him with your eyes set into a glare.
“Honestly, Eddie? I don’t really care anymore. I just want to go home.” You pull your arm from his grasp and try to walk away but he steps in front of you with a concerned look on his face.
“Hey, are we good? You know I just like fucking with you, right?” He holds your book up between you, offering it to you.
“Yeah, that’s just about all you like.” Eddie’s face drops at your tone. You're never like this. You usually get all giggly and embarrassed when he messes with you but he’s never seen you genuinely pissed off at him. As much as it unsettles him it also makes his cock twitch a little.
“You’re kind of hot when you’re mad, you know that?” Eddie bites his lip and gives you that look that makes you swoon for him every time. He reaches his hand out to cup your jaw, his thumb running across your pouty lips. “Quit pouting, let me drive you home.”
“No.” You whine, pouting even further as you look up at him through your lashes. He has you and he knows it.
“Alright, fine then.” Eddie shrugs, giving you a devilish smirk before turning to walk away, he only makes it a few steps before you’re calling out for him. “That’s what I thought, there’s my good girl.”
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“Yeah, fuck, taking me so well, angel.” Eddie is pounding you from behind, your cheek is squished against one of the pillows he started keeping in the back of the van while one of his large hands is laced through your hair. The other roughly grabs onto your hip for leverage, his hips slapping loudly against the fat of your ass.
“Maybe you’re not a good girl after all, huh? Getting dentition. Giving me an attitude. Letting the freak fuck you in the back of his van a block away from your house? Maybe you’ve just been a naughty girl this entire time?” That has you clenching around him, loud moans leaving your lips as you cum hard on his cock.
“Fuck, Eddie, fuck!” He continues to fuck into you hard and deep, using his grip on your hair to pull you up so your back is flush against his chest.
“Tell me why you got detention.” His lips brush your ear, his voice rough.
“Uh-uh” Your eyes roll back when his finger tips brush across your puffy wet clit. He pounds into you a few more times before stilling inside you.
“Tell me, or I’ll stop. I’ll make you lay there and watch me while I jerk off on your pretty little face.” His teeth sink into the nape of your neck, causing you to throw your head back, your walls constricting around his thick cock.
“I don’t know why it matters so much - fuck Eddie -“ you gasp when his hand comes down on your clit, smacking it.
“Tell me.” The hand in your hair grabs onto your throat, adding just the right amount of pressure.
“I punched Nina Johnson in the face, okay!?” You whine when he pulls out of you completely, flipping you on your back. He leans over you, with his hands on either side of your head and a smile plastered on his face.
“Princess, you what!?” He chuckles.
“You heard me.” You pout, avoiding eye contact.
“Did you really? That’s so hot.” He grips onto your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Why’d you do it?”
“Eddie, you said you’d fuck me again if I told you why I got detention I don’t think it’s really fair that you’re asking more que -“ You’re cut off when he takes his cock in his hand and slams inside of you, he doesn’t even give you time to think before his cock is bullying your sweet spot.
“Guess you're officially a bad girl now, huh? Since you got caught?” Eddie chuckles as one of his hands snakes down to rub circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. “But you’re still gonna be a good girl for me, right?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll be so good for you, so fucking good. I’m close, I’m gonna -“ His thrusts and the circles on your clit stop simultaneously causing you to gasp.
“Then be good and tell me why you punched her and I’ll let you cum.” He slaps your clit again and it has your eyes rolling back. “You a little pain slut too? Guess we will have to explore that later. Now answer the question.”
“I just did, okay? I don’t know why it matters, she’s always been a bitch to you anyways.” You whine, any and all fire you had gone, all you want is to cum on Eddie’s cock. “Please, please let me cum Eddie, wanna cum.”
“There’s an easy solution here, princess.” Eddie chuckles as he lands another slap on your clit. “Why’d you do it?”
“She said something fucked up about you, okay!? Now can I please cum? Please?” Eddie’s eyes widen, his heart warming a bit at your words. You got detention for him? He’s going to rock your fucking world.
“Oh, angel. I really have corrupted you, haven’t I? Punching girls in the face for little ol’ me?” He grips onto your calf, throwing it over his shoulder so he can fuck into you deeper, his fingers find your clit again as his cock bullies your sweet spot over and over again. “Cum for me.”
“Fuck, Eddie, want you to cum too. Want you to fill me up.” You’re usually pretty shy with dirty talk but Eddie is seeing a whole new side of you today and he really fucking loves it.
“Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up? Paint your walls with my cum? Maybe I’ll mark you up so everyone knows what a bad girl you really are?” Eddie leans down, letting your leg fall so he can bury his face in your neck. He sucks on your skin, determined to leave his mark.
“Oh god, I’m gonna cum, Eddie. I’m gonna fucking cum, please mark me up, want everyone to know who I belong to.” Your tight wet pussy constricts around him, sending him over the edge with you. He cock twitches inside you as spurts of his cum fill you.
“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Naughty little pussy taking all my cum just like she was made to.”
Eddie fucks you both through your highs before flipping onto his side, pulling you against him. You lean up so you can bury your face in his neck and give him a mark of your own causing him to let out a groan.
“You’re gonna get me going again if you keep doing that, baby.” He chuckles, running a hand along the back of your head to encourage you to look at him. When you do, he’s looking at you in a way he never has before. Almost with adoration. “You’re really badass, you know that?”
“Yeah? That’s a high compliment coming from you, fair knight.” He lets out a loud, signature Eddie laugh at that.
“I am but your humble servant, princess. I am indebted to you for defending me from the evil witch of the locker room.” You both burst into a fit of giggles. “But really though, you should let me read more of that book, maybe we can act it out one day.”
“Oh my god! You’re so annoying.” You snort, playfully slapping his chest.
“Yeah? And you’re my certified badass girl.”
“Yours, huh?” You look up at him and he cups your jaw, rubbing circles along the apple of your cheek with his thumb.
“Yeah, if you’ll have me.” His cheeks turn a tinge pink as he looks down at you bashfully.
“Duh.” You connect your lips with his in a tender kiss that feels different from any other kiss he’s given you. You were Eddie Munson’s girl and that’s all you ever really wanted to be.
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Divider is by @strangergraphics
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 hours
Text
Flag II
Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader
Summary: You go hiking
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When Mama returns to Sweden after her season ends, you go on more hikes. You go on hikes a lot anyway with Mummy and Jordan but you go out on more with Mama.
It's summer when Mama comes home so you get to take your basket out to forage.
Mummy's been foraging with you for ages now. She's very smart and Jordan's very good at finding the best truffle mushrooms. Mama's not quite as good as Mummy but that's okay because she's learning just like you.
You can learn together.
You're up on Mama's shoulders right now as Mummy lets Jordan loose off his leash at the edge of the forest.
"Got everything, squish?" She asks you," Because this is the last time we can go back to get something if you've forgotten it."
You shake your head. "Got everything, Mummy."
"Good girl."
Mama walks for a while before letting you down and instantly, you're hurrying up the path to catch up with Jordan.
"Squish!" Mummy calls out," Slow down, please."
"Okay, Mummy." You slow down and Jordan waits for you to catch up before walking by your side, bumping against you occasionally as his tail wags.
His snout goes down out of nowhere and he's running off the path like a shot. You follow after him and you can hear the thunderous steps of Frida and Emma behind you.
When they finally catch up to you both, you're gently placing truffles into your basket as Jordan wags his tail proudly.
"Good boy," Emma says to him," Who's a good boy? Is it you? Yeah! Of course it is!"
Frida crouches next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple now that she's found you safe. She knows you know your way around this forest like the back of your hand but seeing you off the path still scared her a little.
"Jordan found truffles," You tell Frida," He's the best boy!"
Frida laughs a little. "The best boy for the best little girl," She says warmly and your cheeks go a little pink at the praise.
"Squish," Emma calls you over," Why don't you show Mama about the tracking I taught you?" She points at a singular paw print in the mud. "Can you tell me what kind of animal that is?"
You study it.
It's got a big rear pad and five toes capped off with a long claw mark on each.
"Badger," You answer," We shouldn't go that way. Badgers are mean to dogs sometimes. We don't want Jordan getting hurt."
"Good girl," Emma says, laying a kiss to your head," Can you lead us to the thicket?"
The thicket is your favourite place in the forest. It's got lots of berry bushes perfect for baking into pies and making jam.
You could make your way there in your sleep and Jordan can too so you both take the lead as Mummy and Mama follow a few steps behind.
The thicket is full of ripe berries and the three of you get to work picking them all.
You stumble a little though, reaching for one of the high-up berries and Mama shrieks.
Frida hurries to pick you up, cradling you close even as your brow furrows in confusion.
"Mama?" You say," What's wrong?"
Frida doesn't have much time to calm her beating heart as she sets you down, pointing at the plant you nearly fell into. "That's a stinging nettle, Squish," She says," If you fall into it, it'll hurt a lot."
Your brows shoot up in fear. "Really, really bad?"
Frida knows she's exaggerating but she can't help it. She nods. "Really, really bad."
"And I'll hurt forever?!" You look at the plant in horror.
"Not quite," Emma steps forward to explain," This, here, is a dock leave. If you scrunch it up and put it on your stings it'll make it all better."
Frida nods along before grabbing another plant nearby. "And this is jewelweed. It works better than a dock leaf but it's a little harder to find."
"Dock leaf, jewelweed and stinging nettle," You repeat," Okay."
After that incident, Frida hovers near you for the rest of your berry picking and absolutely refuses to let you walk home so you spend the rest of the hike on her shoulders.
Emma helps you change into your apron when you get home and gives you the very important job of washing the blackberries while she grabs the pastry you made earlier.
"Mama!" You giggle as Frida flicks you with water before lifting you up to sit on the counter so you can pour the berries into the pie.
"What?" Frida teases," I didn't do anything?" She flicks you with water again and you shriek with laughter.
Emma watches you both fondly as she puts the pie into the oven to bake. "Alright, silly girls," She says," Pie is in. Hand washing now and then nap time."
You pout, bottom lip jutting out. "Stay up please, Mummy!"
"Yeah, Emma!" Frida agrees," Let us stay up!"
Emma laughs, kissing Frida softly before layering kisses all over your cheeks. "An hour nap while the pie bakes or my silly girls will turn into grumpy girls and we all know grumpy girls don't get pie after dinner."
That does it for you and you raise your arms up for someone to help you down.
"Nap time now!"
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Text
Bane of My Existence - A QZ Joel Miller One Shot
You and Joel Miller have never gotten along, always at odds whether working together or avoiding each other. But when a smuggling job goes bad, you discover that there might be more to his harsh demeanor than meets the eye.
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Pairing: QZ Smuggler!Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers; Joel is bad with emotions; hurt/comfort; canon typical violence; injury that's probably poorly handled because I don't medicine; vague threat of SA (not by Joel, not made to reader); unprotected vaginal sex. Joel carries reader but look... My Joels are all 6'5" and strong as hell, especially in life threatening situations. Man can carry anybody. I'm in love with him because he's a big strong man. No description of reader.
Length: 8.9k (sorry)
A/N: A lil one shot gift for my beautiful bestie @dundienominee :)
Full Masterlist | AO3
“Hell no.” 
Of course Joel Miller said hell no to working with you. Of course he did. 
You weren’t surprised at Joel’s reaction when his smuggling partner, Tess, brought you to their safe house in the QZ. He’d never been the president of your fan club. 
“Joel,” she sighed. 
“Fuck no,” he said. “Not bringin’ her anywhere, she’s a goddamn liability.” 
“Joel,” she said again, sterner this time. 
You, however, just smirked, watching him pace and glare at you, his face getting flushed as he did. 
“She takes stupid fuckin’ risks,” Joel said. “She’s cocky, she’s…”
“Saved your ass from infected?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 
You knew you were adding fuel to the fire. Tess glared at you for it. Your smirk grew. 
“Wouldn’t have been near the fuckin’ infected if it weren’t for you,” he snapped. “Not. Goin. With. Her.” 
“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Tess said, standing up a little straighter and crossing her arms, staring her partner down. “She’s the one with the contact, they agreed to two people meeting them and she has to be one of them…” 
“How the hell’d you make a contact?” Joel turned his full attention to you, his eyes molten hot and angry. “Anyone you touch ends up fuckin’ dead…” 
“Oh fuck off,” you snapped before you regained your composure. “Don’t get pissy with me because big bad Joel Miller isn’t the top of the smuggling heap in the QZ…” 
“I ain’t pissy!” 
“…Not the top of the heap in anything at all, really…” 
“That’s it!” Joel stalked over, looking like he wanted to slug you. Instead, he just put his finger in your face, a slightly unhinged look in his eyes. “You think I’m doin’ a goddamn thing with you…” 
“You don’t have a choice, Texas,” Tess came and stood beside you, her arms crossed as she looked to Joel. “You burned the bridge we had with the FEDRA officer I need to buy off to get our next round of pills inside, I can’t go on this run because I have to deal with the mess you made when you couldn’t keep your shit together. We want to actually be set before shit gets snowed in for winter? We need her connection. So. You’re going, you’re leaving tonight, and you’re not going to fuck this up. Got it?” 
His jaw tightened. 
“Got it.” 
“Good,” she looked to you. “Your contact knows you’re coming?” 
“They do,” you said, serious now and completely ignoring the wall of muscle who was still standing uncomfortably close to you. “The walk back is going to fucking suck but it should be worth it. Good with the split?” 
“Good might be a strong word for 60/40,” Tess said, shaking her head a little but grinning all the same. “But I’ll take it.” She looked between you and Joel. “Trusting you two to not kill each other out there. Don’t make me regret it. See you in a few days.” 
She left the two of you there in the threadbare apartment without another word, Joel’s glare practically drilling a hole into your skull. 
“Together again, eh Miller?” You smirked at him. 
He didn’t respond. He just went and sat heavily on the worn couch before lying down and closing his eyes. 
“What, didn’t get enough sleep?” You asked, going and standing over him. 
“Slept fine,” he said, eyes still closed. “Just would rather spend the few hours we have before we leave the QZ not listenin’ to you.” 
You rolled your eyes but took a moment to look at Joel when he wasn’t glaring at you. 
It was a rare occurrence, seeing him when he wasn’t scowling and pissed. He let himself relax down into the cushions and the lines in his face eased. As much as you hated to admit it - and you did hate it - Joel was beautiful. Frustratingly so. What’s worse, he’d somehow gotten better looking in the years you’d known him. Jerk.
You’d first met him before you came to the QZ, almost 10 years ago now. You were holed up in your own little corner of Boston, doing your best to stay out of the way of FEDRA, infected and raiders alike. 
It was basically a full-time job, even more so since you’d become the last person standing. A job that you failed at the day you met Joel Miller. 
And, as much as he liked to blame you for it, he was the one who showed up in your corner of town. You’d been napping through the worst of the afternoon heat in mid-July when you heard a clatter: someone tripped one of your alarms. 
“Fuckin’…” 
He swore loud enough that you heard him from your perch and you watched him shake glass out of the wrinkles of his shirt. 
“Someone’s here,” the second man said, much quieter. “That ain’t no accident…” 
The two men moved slowly, cautiously, their rifles raised as they searched for whoever it was who set that trap. When you thought they were far enough away, you started to move, slowly and quietly, going to sneak up on them and take them out before they could do the same to you. 
But as you drew close, you heard it. The clicking. 
You gasped, close enough to the strange men that they heard it and close enough to the clickers that they did, too. 
“Move!” The larger man snapped out of his moment of shock first, shooting forward and grabbing you and throwing you to the side before shooting at the incoming infected. You scrambled to get back up, fumbling to get the knife you’d been readying to thrust into that man’s back. 
It turned out, you didn’t need it. At least, not for the infected. The two men made quick work of the clickers and turned to you, your knife raised and ready to take at least one of them down with you. 
“The fuck are you doin’ out here?” The larger man said instead. 
“The fuck do you think?” You snapped. “Go on, do it! Kill me, take my shit, whatever it is you’re going to do…” 
“Don’t much like killing women,” he said, looking to the other man, their guns still in hand but pointed to the ground. They looked alike, these two. Like they could be related. 
“What, because I’m a woman you think I’m not a threat?” You asked, brows raised before realizing that you probably shouldn’t be egging on the large, armed men in front of you. 
“Not really, princess,” the younger man said, voice teasing, and you considered throwing your knife at him. 
“Should count yourself lucky that we don’t,” the older man said. “Why don’t you come with us, out pickin’ up just a few things and then headin’ back to the QZ…” 
“Right,” you scoffed. “Because I really wanna live under fucking FEDRA.” 
“Guessing you want to live,” he said. “Got news for you, princess. Even we’re steerin’ clear of this area of Boston after this. Lot more infected than we bargained for. Your little hideout ain’t gonna be safe much longer. Assuming you want to keep on living, QZ’s your best bet.” 
“And you’re just, what, inviting me along out of the goodness of your heart?” You scoffed. “Please.” 
“Don’t much like killing women and don’t much like leaving people to die, either,” the other man said. “Seem capable enough. Come with us, at least out of this part of the city. Would rather not have you added to the infected population.” 
You ground your teeth for a moment, considering. They could easily over power you. You were out numbered, out gunned and they were both large and strong. 
But… you had been noticing more and more infected lately. You hadn’t left your hideout in almost two weeks and you were low on supplies. Part of the reason you hadn’t dared venture out in so long was the seemingly constant press of infected you could see from the best vantage points in your building. You’d been starting to worry that you wouldn’t have a good opportunity to leave for supplies again. And, if you did, you were starting to worry your home would be overrun when you got back. 
These two were the closest thing you had to a safe option out. 
So, you took it. The pair introduced themselves and you were right, they were related. Joel and Tommy Miller, smugglers who lived inside the Boston QZ. They were strong, smart, capable. Handsome, too, not that it really mattered. What mattered much more was your ability to keep each other alive. 
And, it turned out, you were useful to them. Enough that they wanted you around as help for other runs outside the QZ. It made sense, you knew certain corners of the QZ better than anyone else seemed to. It had been your territory - at least, in some way - for a long time. 
Then, it happened. You’d taken to calling it ‘the incident’ for lack of any better word. You were out on a smuggling run with Joel and another man, Harvey. In spite of the fact that you’d been working together for years, Joel had never really warmed up to you. He tolerated you at best and it seemed like growling was his preferred form of communication where you were involved but you always made it back to the QZ in one piece when you went out together. You watched each other’s backs - you were proud that your kill count was higher than his and that you were almost positive he’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you. 
The three of you were at the edge of the city, heading to rendezvous with someone from a small settlement in New York State when you heard it, the first, distinctive shriek of infected. 
Suddenly, there were dozens of them, maybe more than 100, far more than you were capable of handling even if you had unlimited ammunition. 
And, like a fool, you froze. 
You’d scouted ahead and saw no signs of them, no indication of anything more than one or two strays that had been ambling around. You had no idea where they’d come from or how they’d come to be here but that didn’t matter. They were here, they were bearing down on you and you couldn’t seem to make your body move, the shock of the sight making you completely shut down. 
It was Joel who saved you. 
“Move!” He’d grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and thrown you behind him as he fired at the infected, pressing back as quickly as he could while laying down cover fire. Harvey joined him, their guns up and blazing as you tried to force your body to listen to you. “Fucking run!” 
Your limbs decided to obey then and you moved as quickly as you could, turning and firing behind you when it felt like you had a moment to spare. 
But you misjudged that moment once. Just once, but that’s all it took. Infected were closer behind you than you realized and Joel dove in between you and the reaching, groping thing. 
“Joel!” You shrieked, desperately trying to get a shot off that wouldn’t hit Joel as he strained to hold back the runner who was snarling near his throat. You were about to shoot when Harvey tackled the creature, knocking it off of Joel but into the mass of infected that was closing in quickly. 
They swarmed him and he screamed and you took aim as Joel scrambled to his feet. He shoved you on before you could fire and you stretched to shoot around him but he nearly threw you away from the swarming monsters and your screaming companion. 
“He’s gone!” Joel yelled as you stared at him, aghast. “He’s gone, we have to fucking move, now go!” 
You kept turning, looking back toward the sound of the snarling and the screams. 
“We have to go back!” you said. “We can’t just leave him like that, we have to at least shoot him we can’t just leave him, we…” 
“You should’ve thought of that before you fucked up!” He kept pushing you forward, toward the QZ. “No point in gettin’ us killed to save a man who’s already dead.” 
Joel had gone from seemingly finding you to be a nuisance to hating you then. He refused to even be in the same room as you let alone leave the QZ with you again. 
It took you a long time, after that split, to figure out how to survive. You’d become dependent on the cards you got from smuggling to get by but you couldn’t leave the QZ on your own and expect to make it back in one piece, not with how things had devolved with raiders and infected in recent years. You found a small group who was going out from time to time - which is how you met Tess - and you cobbled together a living. 
You never worked with Joel again. 
At least, not until now. 
You sighed and perched in the window, watching the QZ go by and thinking of the best way out of the city once the sun went down. You tried not to think about the likelihood that Joel would kill you while you were outside. 
It was a long walk ahead of the both of you, 30 miles each way through infected no man’s land, not that raiders hadn’t been trying their damndest to get a foothold. But you had a connection there who had been growing marijuana and had a hell of a crop they were willing to trade for plenty of ammunition and antibiotics. You’d been orchestrating this trade with Tess for weeks, both of you carefully avoiding the sore subject of Joel. The initial plan had been you and her heading out but then Joel beat the shit out of a FEDRA guard for some imagined offense and they were suddenly without the connections they needed and suddenly, Joel became part of the plan. Lucky you. 
Once darkness started to fall, you picked up a little stone that was stuck in the frame of the cracked window. You took careful aim and flicked it, watching it sail to hit Joel square on the forehead. He twitched in his sleep, grimacing, but he didn’t wake. 
You looked around a moment, searching for something else to use against him. You found it in the form of a wad of paper that you had to stretch to reach but you did. You tightened the ball and aimed, throwing it. It didn’t make it quite as far, bouncing off his hands as they sat folded at the base of his chest. He didn’t even flinch at that. 
“Dammit,” you muttered, looking around again. You found a rubber band then, perking up a little as you picked it up. You arranged it carefully on your fingers, pulling it back and aiming it like a gun, targeting Joel’s nose. His oddly beautiful nose. Not that you ever really thought that way about him, of course. You shot the rubber band and it flew, snapping right where you’d aimed it. He jerked awake and you turned quickly so it seemed like you were just looking outside into the night. 
“Wha…” He mumbled. 
You turned your head to look at him as he sat up, seemingly disoriented. 
“You hit me with somethin’?” He asked. 
“What would I hit you with, Joel?” You asked. “I was about to come wake you up, though. Can’t get a late start because of your lazy ass…” 
“Show you lazy…” he muttered, hefting himself up off the sofa. “Let’s move.” 
You gave Joel this much, the man was efficient. You’d forgotten just how efficient in the years it had been since you’d last worked together. He cut through the QZ quickly and smoothly, the knowledge of routes run by FEDRA guards seemingly innate as he knew exactly when and where to avoid and how to do it. In what seemed like no time at all, you were outside the walls and starting into the ruins of the city. 
“Got a safe house about an hour’s walk,” he said, setting an almost punishing pace as you moved alongside him. “We get there, wait for daylight, press on in the morning.” 
“Oh, because you’re the decision maker?” You asked, brows raised, even though you agreed with him. “Just expect me to fall in line…” 
“You know what, princess?” He rounded on you, forcing you back into the wall of a building you were passing. “You’re lucky I came out here with you after the shit you’ve pulled…” 
“Shit I pulled? I fucked up!” You all but yelled at him. “I know it! I think about that all the fucking time, that he’d still be alive if it weren’t for me! I don’t need you to fucking remind me, I know what I did and I’m sure you’re fucking perfect and that no one’s ever died because you fucked up…” 
“You don’t know a goddamn thing,” he growled, pressing closer to you for a moment and his eyes were dark and dangerous. For a moment, you thought he might kill you. Or kiss you. He didn’t do either. Instead, he just stepped back, looking you up and down once. “Keep your shit together this time. Don’t want to die because of you.” 
Tears burned your throat and eyes and you swallowed them and walked a few steps behind Joel, trying to keep an eye out for signs of infected and raiders and trying to make sure that Joel didn’t die. Even if it was just out of spite. 
The next day was easier than you expected, too. You made it quickly out of the safe house in the morning and dodged a hoard of infected, skirting around the writhing mass of them lying on the street. You didn’t really feel like you could breathe until you were outside the city, where the air was cleaner and you didn’t feel the specter of what happened years ago looming over you. 
You and Joel mostly ignored each other, watching the tree line as you kept an eye out for whatever might be lurking for you there. But, every now and then, you thought you caught Joel looking at you out of the corner of your eye, his head snapping around the moment you seemed to take notice. 
After walking for most of the day and covering 20 miles, the two of you stopped and made camp, Joel deeming it safe enough to make a small fire. You watched him after the two of you had eaten and settled, the light casting flickering shadows on his face. 
Joel, you were almost loathe to admit, was an incredibly good looking man. There was a roughness to him that you found almost comforting in the world you were both trapped in but there was beauty to him, too. The symmetry of his features, the plush of his lips, the cut of his jaw. You wondered what he was like before all this, not just when he was younger but before this world had a chance to sink its teeth into him. Maybe you would have been friends then. Maybe something more than friends. 
“How’d you end up smuggling?” You asked, not able to keep sitting here in silence any more. 
“What?” He asked, looking up from where he was cleaning his gun. 
“Smuggling,” you said. “Doubt you were born a smuggler and you don’t seem like you were a drug mule or something in the before times. How’d you end up doing it?” 
“How does anyone end up doin’ anything?” He asked. “Needed cards, people needed drugs. If people want to pay me for ‘em, I’m not about to argue.” 
“So that’s it,” you said. “You woke up one morning and thought to yourself ‘I think I’m going to tell FEDRA to fuck off today by running drugs’ and started a whole new career.” 
He sighed but didn’t say anything. 
“I don’t buy it,” you continued, sitting back against the tree you were propped against. “There’s something else…” 
“Not your business if there is.” 
“So there is something else!” You said, almost smug. “I’m on the right track, excellent.” 
“You always this nosy?” 
“Usually,” you said. “Let’s see… Maybe Joel Miller just likes an excuse to hit things.” He scoffed but didn’t say anything. “Not that? Interesting… Maybe Joel Miller gets off on breaking the rules. Is that it? You have authority issues?” 
“Can we go back to not fuckin’ talking?” He asked. 
“Not authority issues then,” you nodded, ignoring him. “Well, that leaves just one other theory.” 
You were quiet, looking away from Joel and fighting the urge to smirk as you did. It only took a minute of silence before he sighed. 
“Goddammit,” he said. “What. What’s your theory.” 
You let the smirk happen then, looking back at him. 
“That Joel Miller doesn’t feel alive unless he’s about to die,” you said. “And that Joel Miller needs to feel something so he decides to do the thing that almost kills him because what else is there to have?” 
He watched you for a moment, his eyes hot and angry, before he looked back at his gun. 
You laughed once. 
“So predictable…” 
“And why do you do it?” He asked, looking up at you, the rage barely contained on his features. “Must have a reason, right? Livin’ outside the QZ as long as you did, fuckin’ around outside it now, what is it? You got some kind of death wish?” 
“Yes,” you said, looping your arms around your knees. He blinked at you in surprise for a moment and you laughed a little. “I’m not nearly as mysterious as you, it’s not some secret…” 
“Why?” He cut you off, gun set aside now. You frowned but he pressed on. “You got a life, why do you want to just throw it away…” 
“You call what I have a life?” You asked, brows raised. “Never thought you’d be so generous in regards to anything related to me…” 
“Ain’t it?” He asked. “Sure, it’s not what it was before, can’t just do what we did then but…” 
“You think that’s it?” You gaped at him. “That I miss being able to go to fucking happy hour with my coworkers or grab dinner at Chili’s so I might as well drop dead?” 
“That’s not…” 
“I lost people, Joel,” you snapped. “I know everybody did but when I say I lost people, I mean I lost everyone. By the time you and Tommy found me, there wasn’t a single person left on Earth I knew. My parents turned in the outbreak, they bit my brother and his wife and their daughter. I survived with my fiance for a while but he got shot by a FEDRA officer when we were trying to make our way to the fucking QZ and then I was alone. I stayed out there because, what, was I supposed to go live with the people who killed him? No thanks. What the fuck is there? So yeah, you know what? I smuggle shit. I like the risk. I like telling FEDRA to fuck off. I like being able to handle myself because I’m the only thing I can count on. Don’t act so fucking surprised that I’m not thrilled with life in the QZ just because you brought me there.” 
Joel was quiet for a moment and you just squared your jaw and looked away, arms crossed tightly over your chest. You knew you shouldn’t let Joel get to you the way he did - especially not after you’d picked at him and pushed him here - but he got under your skin the way no one else left alive really seemed to. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about your fiance, not in years. It was a wound you’d long set aside, a casualty in the war on humanity that had hollowed you out so much that it seemed like you couldn’t really feel anything unless you were on the edge of your own destruction. Or, apparently, picking a fight with Joel fucking Miller.
“Could be worse,” he said eventually. 
“Yeah, well.” 
“M’sorry.” 
You looked at him then, brows knitted together. 
“What?” 
“Said I’m sorry,” he said, voice a little gruff. “Didn’t… didn’t know. Wasn’t trying to… I’m sorry.” 
You blinked for a moment, trying to get your bearings. Of everything you’d expected to hear out of Joel Miller’s mouth, I’m sorry wasn’t it. 
“I’m sorry, too,” you said eventually. “If you want to talk…” 
“I don’t.” 
“Right,” you nodded. “Well…” 
“I got first watch,” he said, picking his gun back up. “Get some sleep.” 
The next day, you reached the trade you’d arranged, the woman you’d run into a few times when outside the QZ there with her partner. They hauled so much marijuana out - wrapped tightly in old newspaper - that they had to use wagons to carry it all. You unloaded your haul and the trade went smoothly, Joel lurking toward the back and standing guard, keeping a surly watch over the whole proceeding the entire time. It took some doing to pack all the pot into your bags but you managed it, thanking the couple and starting back toward the QZ. 
You were close to where you’d stopped the night before when it happened, the snarl of infected crawling over your skin. 
“Fuck,” you slung your rifle down from its place over your shoulder and turned to where the sound was coming from, seeing a cluster of at least a dozen infected moving for you. You shot, catching the first in the head and you watched it drop. 
“Go!” Joel yelled, planting his feet and taking aim. 
“Fuck you!” You snapped, ignoring him and shooting. “I can handle myself.” 
He growled at that but didn’t say anything else. Instead you stood with him, side by side, trying to pick off the group that was charging for you. For a moment, you thought you’d done it, that you were in the clear. 
And then, Joel’s gun jammed. 
You realized it when you didn’t hear any more gunfire coming from beside you as the remaining infected drew closer. 
“Joel!” Your eyes darted his way and you saw him trying to force the lever back, to no avail. He looked to you and the infected and back to you, his jaw squared. 
“Get back to the QZ,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond. Instead, he charged forward, gun held not like a firearm but a staff and he swung it, hard, so the butt of it slammed into the skull of an infected as three others dove for him. 
“Fuck!” You yelled, ignoring him again. Like hell he was going down out here like this, like fuck you were letting this asshole die for you. You took careful aim, taking down infected that you were confident you could headshot without putting Joel at risk, just one bullet going wide and exploding on the bark of a nearby tree, the rest finding their mark. And then he was on the ground, just one infected left, too close to him for you to be able to shoot and it wasn’t that you chose to do it, not really. It was more like instinct, flying forward, shedding your backpack and dropping your gun as you did, wrenching your knife from its place at your hip and jumping onto the back of the creature, your arms going around its neck as you yanked back on it, hard. 
Your weight threw it off balance and it shrieked, starting to claw at you, twisting in your hold to see if it could sink its teeth into your skin. It bit as best it could at your arms but the thick of your coat kept it from getting any further and you struggled to adjust your knife to drive it into the thing’s neck but you couldn’t get it, not without letting it go.
“Goddammit!” Joel was panting for breath and you could barely see him out of the corner of your eye as he scrambled to his feet. You tightened your grip on the infected, the stink of the rot of it from the inside out making you gag, and it slammed you back into a tree, catching you off guard. You barely registered the sound of your skull hitting the wood before you passed out. 
***
You didn’t listen. You never fucking listened, why could you never fucking listen? 
You were the single most infuriating person Joel had ever met. Stubborn as hell, independent to a fault, seemingly desperate to pick every fight you could find. Of course you didn’t fucking listen to him. You never had before, why would you start now? 
Seeing you that close to infected - again - was terrifying. 
This was why he didn’t want to go out like this with you. This, right here. Because he knew you wouldn’t listen, he knew you’d wind up in this situation, knew he’d have to deal with the fear and the pain of you dying when it was his fucking fault why couldn’t you just fucking listen?
He’d thrown himself at the infected to give you a chance. One of you was probably going to die out here and he wasn’t about to let it be you. Not when he’d already done so much, gone so far to try to make sure you fucking survived. Because dammit, if he couldn’t make sure one of the few people he actually cared about actually lived, what was the damn point? 
But did you take the chance he was giving you? No. Of course you didn’t. 
And all he could do was watch in horror as the thing you’d jumped on top of slammed you into a tree with a sickening thud, one he could hear above the snarling and snapping of jaws. Your body went limp and you slid from its back to the earth, landing in an unnatural looking way. No one who was in control of their limbs fell like that. His blood was ice and he moved without considering, roaring as he ripped his knife from his belt and tackled the infected who was turning to go after your throat. He hit it so hard he rolled with it, the creature’s mouth reaching for him as he held it back. They came to rest on the ground, that thing on top of him and Joel slammed his knife into its neck again and again, until it went quiet and still and Joel was bloodied and panting for breath. 
He shoved it off him and he half crawled to you as he got to his feet, not willing to wait until he was standing to start moving. You were still when he reached you, your head thrown back, half on your side, mouth open. 
“No, no, c’mon,” he pulled your coat open to get at your chest to try to do what he thought was CPR - not like there were fucking certifications for it in the QZ - but, when he did, he realized you were breathing. He lowered his head near your mouth and could hear the soft, shallow sound of your life and he sat back on his heels, taking a deep breath. 
So he hadn’t gotten you killed. Not yet, anyway. At least there was that. He let himself sit with the relief for a moment before checking you over, looking at your throat and wrists for signs of a bite but didn’t find any. Another lucky moment. 
“Alright princess,” he said, tapping your cheek lightly. “C’mon. We gotta get movin’, let’s go.” You stayed still. His stomach twisted. “Know you like to fuck with me but now ain’t the time, we need to get out of here, time to wake up…” 
He half expected you to respond then. You’d love this, the fact that he was damn near panicking because you were hurt. He knew you’d want to draw it out. 
But you wouldn’t be stupid about it. You wouldn’t put them at risk, not really. 
“Fuck,” he swore, adjusting your limp body as best he could before lifting you to his chest. The hair at the back of your head was matted with blood. He tried not to think about what that might mean. “S’alright. You’re gonna be fine, just… You’ll be OK.” 
He kept thinking that, over and over, as he carried you, looking for somewhere he could protect you for a while. 
It took him time to find it, a farmhouse with overgrown fields that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The door was hanging open, creaking on its hinges, and Joel brought you to the kitchen island, setting you gently on the dust-covered formica. 
“Stay there for a minute,” he said, leaning against the counter to recover his strength and his breath for a moment. “Gotta… gotta make sure we don’t got company.” 
He went through the house room by room, barricading the doors on the ground floor and pleasantly surprised to find most of the top floor intact, no holes in the roof or broken windows. He gathered some blankets from the main bedroom and carried them down to where he’d left you. He propped your head up gently, pouring some water on a cloth and cleaning the cut there with care before covering you with a quilt and pulling a kitchen chair up beside you. He checked to make sure you were still breathing before sitting down, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, hands folded almost in prayer. 
He should have told Tess to fuck off. He knew better, when it came to you. There was a reason he’d avoided you ever since that day everything had gone wrong. Hell, he’d been avoiding you before that, too. 
From the moment he’d met you, he liked you a little too much. You were the exact kind of woman he’d gone for before, one who was capable and strong and a total fucking smart ass. He liked a woman who challenged him, one who made him think. You did those things, you did those things like it was second fucking nature, all while being one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, before the outbreak or after. 
He knew he had to keep his distance from the beginning, that he’d get too attached if he let himself. But you were a valuable partner, so he did his best to keep you at arm’s reach while going on runs with you and his brother. He thought that had been enough, that he’d done a good job of protecting himself from the disaster that waited at the end of any form of attachment in the life he led now. 
And then he saw you freeze in the face of infected. 
He was so afraid in that moment that it shocked him how fast he made the call. The decision to put his body between you and the infected was an easy one. He wanted to make it back to the QZ, to his brother he’d found some reason to live for over the last few years, but he wouldn’t want that if you didn’t come back, too. But you didn’t fucking listen then, either, too busy trying to do the same damn thing he’d have done in your position. If you hadn’t been with him, he’d have tried to save Harvey. He was a good man, he’d watched Joel’s back plenty, Tommy’s too. He deserved a better end than the one he got. 
Joel just couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you. 
He let himself rage at you about it. Even though it wasn’t your fault, none of it had been. He’d known it then but even more so after. Years later, outside the QZ, he watched as a large hoard worked its way south for the winter, just passing through. You couldn’t have seen them coming, no one could have. 
He never told you that. Because, after the day you froze, he was far enough away from you that he wasn’t going to have to watch you die and he wasn’t going to have to carry the blame if you did. He couldn’t do that again. He knew that much of himself, he knew what he wasn’t capable of surviving. If you were out of reach, he’d have room to breathe. 
But you were still leaving the QZ. He hadn’t known that, at first. He’d just assumed you’d stay put and take the shitty jobs FEDRA offered to get by. He hadn’t even known that Tess knew you, not for years. It wasn’t even her that told him you were still smuggling, it had been a FEDRA guard. He’d overheard your name when Tess was handling a trade and put two and two together. He damn near marched over to your apartment that second and demanded to know what the fuck you were thinking. But he didn’t. He kept it together, he kept listening for news of you, kept waiting for the day that he knew was waiting for him, the one where you didn’t come back and he’d find out about it from some other smuggler or some asshole guard who found out when you didn’t show up with his supply of pills.
And then your name came up when he was trading with a FEDRA guard. It was a small deal, some pills for cigarettes and liquor, just enough for one guy. He was a new client of Joel’s, one he was happy to have. His demand was low and he was good leverage for bringing shit through the gates, turning a blind eye for a good deal on drugs. He just hadn’t seemed to learn quite yet that Joel wasn’t a friend. 
“You know other smugglers, right?” He asked, glancing at Joel as he counted the pills out in his palm. As though Joel was stupid enough to short change a fucking FEDRA officer. 
“Suppose,” Joel shrugged. “Why?” 
“There’s this one…” he talked about a woman who was coming and going, one who was cocky and beautiful and hadn’t caved to his demands for sex the last time she came through and he tried to blackmail her. Joel ground his teeth but kept quiet as he prattled on, eventually pocketing the pills and handing over the cigarettes and booze. “Anyway, wondering if you think she’s the type who’ll give in or should I stop wasting my time and just take it?” 
Joel’s hands curled into fists. 
“Take it?” Joel asked. “Take what, exactly.” 
He looked at Joel, incredulous. 
“C’mon,” he said. “You know. They never fight too hard against a uniform but it’s more fun when they’re at least a little willing.” 
Joel’s punch came so quickly the man didn’t have time to put his hands up. He took him to the ground fast, blow after blow raining down on the man’s face until the air smelled like copper and his knuckles were split. The man gargled on his own blood below him, desperate gasps that sounded something like “please” but he couldn’t be sure. Joel grabbed him by the collar, his head lolling limply to the side as he tried to breathe. One of his teeth was hanging on my a thread.
“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel panted. “Tell your fuckin’ friends. I hear about any of you messing with women around here? I’ll kill you.” 
Joel dropped him back to the ground and flexed his fingers. He thought he might have broken part of his hand. Wouldn’t be the first time. At least this one was worth it. 
“Pleasure doin’ business with you,” he said, fishing around in the man’s pocket and taking a pill from him. He popped it in his mouth, chalky and bitter on his tongue. “For my trouble.” 
He left the man there in the alley, knowing full well that he’d just shot his whole team in the foot. He didn’t much care. 
The irony that it had landed him here, outside the QZ with you unconscious and your haul on the forest floor was almost too biting. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he’d been doing this wrong all along. 
You groaned and Joel’s head shot up as you started stirring on the counter, your hand going to the injured part of your skull. 
“Easy,” he said gently, getting up slowly so he wouldn’t startle you. “Took a nasty hit to the head, you were out for a while.” 
“Ow.” 
Joel laughed a little at that. 
“Glad you think it’s funny,” you said, sitting up. He rushed to help you and you gave him an incredulous look as his hands found your back and your hand. “Jesus, I feel like I got put through a meat grinder…” 
“Well, s’long as you ain’t bitten, think we can handle that,” he said, taking his hands back now that you were sitting up. 
“Amen to that,” you said, stretching a bit before looking him over and then looking around, a small frown on your face. “Where are we?” 
“Farmhouse,” Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets just to give them something to do. “Think about a mile from where we were. Can find our way back OK. I’ll have to, your pack is still out there.” 
“Shit,” you said. “Yeah, we can’t afford to come back without it, I traded my entire stash for my share of the pot…” 
“We’ll find it,” he said. “Don’t think anyone else is comin’ through here any time too soon.” 
You nodded slowly before looking back to him, your eyebrows knitting together before you flinched, your hand going to the back of your head again. 
“Will you actually listen for a change and take it easy?” He asked, going to check the wound. “Jesus, bane of my fuckin’ existence, not doing a goddamn thing I tell you…” 
“Why are you still here?” You asked, ignoring him yet again, fingers finding the gash on your head and tugging at it until it started bleeding again. Joel sighed before pulling your hand away. “Hell, why’d you bring me here at all? You just said I’m the bane of your existence, why the fuck did you go through this much trouble? You could have just left me there, taken my pack, kept all the haul for yourself…” 
“You really think I’m capable of that?” He asked, brows raised. He knew he hadn’t exactly been kind to you over the years but fuck, he didn’t think it was that bad. He pressed the wet cloth to your head again, watching as the red filtered over it. 
You shrugged. 
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Yeah, alright, you piss me off more than… shit, about anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re the bane of my existence…” 
“So…” 
“Will you let me talk?” He snapped. “Fuck, woman, always gotta be right, always gotta have the last damn word, always gotta do whatever’s gonna get you into the most trouble…” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry that I managed to save your fucking life today,” you snapped back. “Please forgive me!” 
“I don’t want you saving my life if it costs you yours!” He yelled. 
You pulled back from him sharply, eyes wide as you blinked at him in shock. He shook his head and pulled the cloth away from your skin. At least the bleeding had stopped again. 
“Don’t fuck with it anymore,” he said, dropping the bloody fabric to the counter. “Gotta leave it alone so it can start to heal, head wounds bleed like a motherfucker…” 
“Joel,” you said quietly, watching him. 
“What.” 
“Joel,” you said again, eyes still on him. “You… What did you mean you don’t want me saving your life if it costs…” 
“I don’t…” He cut you off before he took a deep, centering breath. “I don’t want anybody dying for me but… Christ, it can’t be you. Yeah, you’re the bane of my existence, you piss me off so much sometimes I swear it’s like you got a goddamn degree in just how to do it but you make me feel more alive than anything else left and I can’t…” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like a bruise. “I can’t lose you, especially not when I could stop it. Not when I could save you. I need you to stay alive, OK? I don’t want anyone else to piss me off the way you do, I want you to be the one getting under my skin every goddamn day…” 
“Joel…” 
“Still not gonna let me finish?” He gaped at you. “Fuck, I’m tryin’ to…” 
You didn’t let him finish that time, either. Instead, you kissed him, your arms going around his neck and pulling him roughly against you, your lips so soft and warm and demanding on his that it felt like you were trying to swallow him whole. 
It was like the logical part of his mind only worked for half a second after that. He knew, in that moment, that he should probably hold you back. Talk things out, make sure you didn’t hurt yourself - you’d just had a head injury for fuck’s sake - but that part of him vanished, consumed by you and the way you kissed him like you were trying to climb inside his skin. 
His arms went around you, pulling you to the very edge of the island so your pussy was pressed tight against his quickly hardening cock. 
He couldn’t help but grind himself against you, the zipper of his jeans harsh contrast to just how soft he knew your pussy would be and the last bit of resolve he should have held snapped. Your fingers fumbled at the snaps on his coat, pulling it open before going to the buttons on his shirt and he did the same, desperate to get at your skin and suddenly not caring that it was nearly freezing or that the two of you had nearly died not all that long ago.
His hands found your breasts, sliding inside the cups of your bra to cradle the soft warmth of them and you moaned into his mouth when his thumbs found your nipples, gently brushing them before working them in little circles as they pricked against his skin. 
Joel had tried to not think about this with you. It was tempting, always tempting, but he knew better. He tried to limit his thoughts of you to frustration and anger but he often failed at that. He had failed at it often enough that he had an idea of how you would feel in his hands, how you would taste on his tongue. He thought he would have known enough to be prepared for it if it ever happened. 
He wasn’t. 
You were, somehow, so much better than he’d ever let himself imagine. You were so goddamn soft, like the whole of you had been spun out of silk, tenuous and tender. There was something almost inherently wrong in how he was touching something as soft as you but he shoved that nagging guilt aside, too obsessed with feeling more of you. If this was how your tits felt in his hands, how your lips felt on his, how your hands felt in his hair, he had to feel inside you. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think about anything else if he didn’t get to be inside of you, his mind would always be trying to create the way you would feel, to know how warm you would be, how safe he would feel in you and how calming it would be to know that you were safe, too, because nothing could reach you if he was there inside you, nothing. 
His hands reluctantly left your breasts and slid down to your waist, finding the button on your jeans. You quickly, clumsily kicked off your boots and lifted your ass from the countertop so he could slide your jeans and panties down, leaving you all wet and swollen and bared for him. 
“Fuck,” he panted, looking down at you for a moment before reaching one callused finger forward and almost reverently tracing your dripping slit. You groaned, your head going back in pleasure, your hips almost jumping toward him. 
“Joel,” you whispered, voice so goddamn needy. The sound went straight to his cock, skin stretched tight and balls aching. “Please…” 
“I’ve got you baby,” he said, opening his pants and tucking his jeans and underwear below his throbbing sex. “Make you feel so good, just…” 
He took his cock and brushed the head against you and you looked down to where he was about to push inside you and gasped. 
“Holy fuck,” you panted, looking at him, your eyes wide. “Joel, you’re… Are you going to fit?” 
“I’ll fit, baby,” he said, looking down again and notching the head of him inside your wet heat. You groaned as you stretched around him, fingers digging into the skin at his nape. He pushed the first inch of himself inside and stopped, looking back to you. He took your face his hand and your eyes searched his, desperate longing written there. “Just watch me, I’ve got you.” 
You didn’t say anything, you, just nodded quickly. His other hand went to the small of your back, angling you just so as he started to thrust into you, pushing in a little and then pulling back before going again, claiming more and more of you with each stroke until he was fully within you. He stilled inside you and pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes on his own, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. 
He’d been right. Inside, you were fucking perfection. He could feel how you stretched over him, how your body perfectly took and held his own. You were so soft there it seemed impossible, like the world should have destroyed anything this delicate and supple. But you felt so like you, too. The heat of you was almost overwhelming, the strength of you sharp and clear when your cunt fluttered over him, already nearing your orgasm with telltale little spasms holding him tight.  He wanted to consume you and be consumed, devour and be devoured and he needed to fuck you deep and hard and leave part of himself inside of you or he might never think of anything else ever again. 
“Fuck, Joel,” your breaths were sharp and shaky. “I’m so… you’re so big, I’m so full, I… You have to move, I need you to fuck me, please fuck me, please, I need…” 
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, gently angling your head just so. “Give you just what you need.” 
He kissed you as he started fucking into you, setting an almost punishing pace as he moved inside you. He drank down your desperate groans, savored the way your fingers scrabbled over his shoulders and neck and back, got lost in the spread of your thighs as you kept trying to take him somehow deeper. As if there was more of you for him to take, as if there was more of himself to give. 
Your channel grew tight over him and he knew he wasn’t going to last once you came but he was afraid he wasn’t going to even make it that far. He’d already given up on pulling out, he’d deal with the whatever fallout came from filling you up, but he had to feel you come when he was inside you. He was desperate for it, needed to feel how you’d draw so tight over him and pull his come from his body into yours, he needed it. He drove deep and found the spot inside you that made your legs clench a little tighter, fingers clutch a little harder. He pressed into it and held himself there, more rocking into you than fucking into you, grinding the head of him into the very softest part of you as your cunt drew tighter and tighter over him and you pulled away from his lips to cry out as you came. You throbbed around him and he could feel every part of you there, the pulsing of your body and the satisfaction of your cries damn near ripping his own orgasm from him. 
He pulled you close and tight as he came, feeling like his whole being was pulled down low and sharp inside him as he spilled deep into you. Your arms loosened on him but you still held him gently as he all but collapsed into you, his head on your shoulder as he panted for breath. 
“Fuck,” he managed after a moment, still deep inside you. 
“Yeah,” you laughed a little. 
He sat back from you, eyes searching yours again now that you’d both started coming back down to Earth. You reached up and ran your fingers through his curls, brushing them back from his face as he started to notice the cold air again for the first time. 
“Bane of your existence, huh?” You asked, teasing lightly. 
“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “My whole damn existence.” 
You smiled a little back. 
“Think I can work with that.” 
246 notes · View notes
allbark-no-bite · 2 days
Text
don’t write checks you can’t cash.
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jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)
summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall
warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)
author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. part two coming soon! loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it
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You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.
Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.
Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.
Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?
The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.
Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.
You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.
——
You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.
"You from around here, [L/n]?"
You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.
As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.
"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."
You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.
You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.
Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.
You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.
This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.
Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.
After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.
Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.
Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.
As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.
“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."
And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.
——
For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.
You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.
"Hawk!"
Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.
“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.
"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.
After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."
You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."
Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."
Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."
Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.
Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."
As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.
An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.
After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.
You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.
Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.
He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.
"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.
Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.
"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.
You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.
"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."
Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."
You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"
"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."
Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.
"I haven't got all day, kid."
He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.
"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."
He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.
The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.
Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.
12:57 am
"Dad, I wanna go home."
"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."
"Want me to show you?"
His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.
Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."
You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.
"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."
"Oh, I didn't-"
Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."
Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."
Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."
Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."
Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.
"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.
"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.
He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."
Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."
Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.
"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.
Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.
"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.
You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.
All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"
It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.
Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.
It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.
"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"
Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."
Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."
The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.
"You can't be serious."
He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."
"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 
"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.
Against your better judgement, you take the shot.
The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.
"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.
"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"
"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.
Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.
"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."
Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.
You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.
"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.
His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.
"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.
Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.
You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.
“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.
He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”
“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.
“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”
With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.
Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”
Inside you know exactly what he means.
His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.
You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.
"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.
You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.
"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.
He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”
“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
182 notes · View notes
b1ravenclaw · 1 day
Note
Azriel has a mate and when he starts spending time with Elain. She becomes distant.
She sees the almost kiss with Rhys and she leaves and Rhys doesn’t say anything for her.
She eventually comes back and is in “fuck him. I’m a bad bitch” era and Azriel has to grovel hard cause she isn’t taking any shit.
You can end it however you want.
Relief
note: I hope I did it justice :)
warnings: unedited, angst
The almost kiss was just the cherry on top of the fucking cake. 
It started slow, of course, but it went at a slow steady pace. Always there to nag at my insides, something so silly and small I could not complain, really. So what if he was befriending the High Lady’s sister, it was expected she made some friends considering her abrupt start at fae life. What was not expected was Azriel would altogether stop making time for you. His mate. His fucking mate.
The lingering glances he once shared with you were now hers, his attention once solely yours was now solely hers. And you did not want to believe, when you clinged to hope on those cold nights alone that he may only be distracted because of his harsh work. You supposed he avoided your touch because his insecurities of not being enough may have crawled and found its way inside him again. 
But, alas, it was not it. It was just her. Fucking Elain, and she was not to blame. He was. How could he neglect his mate? His other half. How could he be so vile and cruel, not only to you, but to himself as well. He did not expect you to forgive him, did he? Or to never find out? 
You did not know what was worse. That, until you saw the look on Rhysand’s face, when his violet eyes left anger daggers at Azriel, to you they only emanated pity. Pure pathetic pity. His mouth opened and closed a few times, the High Lord of Night at a loss of words, congratu-fucking-lations Azriel. 
The walk to your room was shameful, glamouring yourself as to not be seen by no one, not wanting to wait for him, to hear what Rhys had in store for him. You just wanted to go away, your things were quick to be packed, and Kallias and Vivienne were not alarmed to see you at their palace doors unannounced. However they were alarmed by the sad glimmer in your eyes, tears refusing to be dropped and, instead, freezing. Your lashes starting to become white with the cold.
“Oh Dear.” Was all Vivienne, your cousin, said. Your only family member alive. The family you would have now that Azriel fucked everything up. Your hopes of having a family crushed right before you, and you let it happen. Had you fighted him would it have changed anything? Would his interest in Elain have died down or grown further more? You felt your heart growing colder. Vivienne had asked if you wanted company sleeping tonight, but you refused. You did not want her to see how much you could cry about it, and when you thought it was over you felt it. Over the bond you felt it, his feelings, and it wasn’t remorse, it wasn’t sadness or even anger. He felt nothing, almost as if he was feeling contemptment. As if he was fucking relieved you left. 
You cried until sunrise, shame sent you to sleep and hunger woke you up the next morning.
Your stomach was empty and growling, and you were in desperate need of a shower. But the first thing you did that morning was neither bathe or eat. You looked in the mirror at your disheveled image, at your red puffy eyes you focused on your feeling of emptiness and hopelessness and sent that perfectly destroyed image down the golden thread connecting you to the winged male, and closed it. You looked your heart and mind at seven keys, never to be opened again, never to be toyed with. 
That morning after bathing and brushing your long hair you cut it at shoulder length, you found your best dress, one that had a high detailed neckline and went past your feet. 
“Y/n.” Said Kallias, surprised, “Good morrow.”
“Good morrow, my lord.” You said with a courtesy. “My lady.”
“Y/n, your hair… it’s different.”
“And so am I, I thought it would be fitting. Don’t you?”
“Of course.”  Her voice was soft, as if she was scared if she spoke too strongly you would break. But you could not be broken, not anymore. 
“I was…”
“You don’t need to say what happened if you do not wish to y/n, you are always welcome at our home. Your home.” Kallias said, ever the High Lord. 
“Thank you, Kallias. But I wish to, just to clear things up. As I suppose they will want to contact me.”
“Rhysand may have sent word, as well as your mate.”
“I would appreciate it if you called him by his name, as he is no longer my mate.” They both inhaled sharply, the food at the table left untouched. “I supposed I saw it coming, he… Well, he took interest in another female. It has been quite sometime. The final straw was, well, his lack of respect for me and self control.” 
“Oh, y/n.” Vivienne was at my side, but it was Kallias voice that made my heart warm.
“Do you want me to end him?”
“As much as I would appreciate it, I know it would not be good, politically speaking.” 
“We can find our way around it.” “I’m sure you can. But… part of me wants him to live with it, see if he will suffer even if it’s a little.” 
“Your call, Vivienne’ family is my family. You know it.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
It was a week later the day you left, that Rhysand’s letter arrived. It was sealed and it smelled of the home you once cared for, one you did not wish to be in anymore. 
Dear y/n, 
I can not begin to imagine how you are feeling, I am writing to you to make sure you are safe  and well, as well as one can be in your situation. Kallias sent word you are with him and Vivienne, but alas please tell me if you need anything I can help with.  
We all miss you dearly, unfortunately word got out faster than  I could contain, we are all mad at him, and I forbade him to contact you. 
He would like to speak to you, but you owe him nothing. 
I hope to see you soon.
Your dear friend, High Lord of Night, Rhysand.
You answered the letter a few days later, letting him know Azriel was not to contact you, or else he would die. You didn’t think they believed it, you could never kill Azriel, even now. It was a month after that you saw Feyre and Rhysand, and how you missed them. All of them, they were your family once too and as if sensing your insecurity Feyre whispered in your ear as she left that you were still family, and as much as you would like to believe it, you knew they  would never turn on Azriel. 
Eight months later you felt strong enough to return to the night court, Vivienne and Kallias held you as much as possible, but when you were strongly inclined to retrieve the rest of your belongings yourself they hugged you goodbye. And when the inevitable happened, when you crossed his path despite Rhysand telling you he made sure Azriel had left before you arrived. When you looked into his almond eyes, that once gave you immense joy, you felt nothing, almost contempt. You felt relieved, that he could not affect you anymore, would not affect you anymore.
“My love…” “Azriel, it’s Y/n to you. Or Winter Court emissary.” 
“Y/n, please, don’t do this, let’s talk.”
“I will do as I please, Spymaster. Just like you did all those months ago.”
“I made a mistake.”
“And I hope it was worth, I hope you at least got to fuck her.”
“I didn’t. I lo-”
“Oh, that’s a shame. So you did really throw it all away, over what? A silly kiss? It truly is pathetic, Azriel.”
“Y/n, I should never have allowed myself to be lured away from my mate, I see that now.” “Lured away?” You scoffed, you could hear heavy footsteps approaching the room, probably Cassian’s. But you did not care for it. “Is that what you call it? Did she poison you?” “No?”
“Did she give you a love potion?”
“No, she didn’t.” “Did she enchant you with a spell?”
“No, and it does not matter, I shouldn’t-” “Then you were not lured Spymaster, maybe by your own lust and desire, but it was nothing you were physically weak against. She did not force you. You chose to betray me the moment you chose to spend time with her over me. “
“And I am so sorry.” His voice was broken, but you couldn't care less. You wished for him to hurt. “As you should be, and I hope Elain ends up being happier with Lucien than I ever was with you.” And as he tried to call you, tried to tug at the bond you once cherished with all your heart, it was much too easy to drown it all out, to distract yourself catching up with his family, your friends. You slept peacefully, the weight lifted off of your shoulders. The next morning it was much easier to put on the Winter Court colors and behold the tasks ahead of you, to serve your new High Lord. Your new court.
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