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#how will you keep up a supply line
weepylucifer · 1 year
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So if Precinct 41 is really soooo understaffed and overworked and handling the workload of 4 precincts already, and the whole C-Wing is in shambles bc of Harry’s antics, why do they want Martinaise so badly, to the point of staging a whole cop contest over it? It seems like they’re majorly screwing themselves over just for the sake of posturing? Why take on even more work, all for the dubious privilege of policing a few busted streets? Why don’t they just hand it off to the 57th, who seem to have more manpower and better equipment and less personnel troubles, and focus on the gigantic caseload they apparently already h oooohhhh right they want harbor access for Le Retour. Okay, next-
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arsenicflame · 1 year
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stede is 'oh this place has something related to my interest i must go in immediately' autistic and izzy is 'if we deviate one inch from my plan for today i will murder someone' autistic
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n7punk · 9 months
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i hate scalpers so much fr
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thenarrativefoil · 4 months
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on god my therapist is gonna hear about this <- me threatening the sleep demons when i wake up after a particularly annoying unconscious time
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bi-writes · 16 days
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can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)
greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."
you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.
you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.
you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."
you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.
he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.
he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.
he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.
ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.
yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 month
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post!prison Spencer realizing you’re not always sunshiny and happy when one day he spots you crying in the hall before wiping your eyes and walking into the bullpen with your usual megawatt smile like you hadn’t been balling your eyes out five minutes before
It’s a call with your brother that really gets you started.
Spencer watches you take the phone call that starts off pleasant, you’re all smiles and then you frown, dark and full of an anger Spencer hasn’t ever seen on you.
He knows humans are capable of all emotional spectrums but it’s so foreign on your face and in your body language that he’s shocked a little still.
You walk to a secluded part of the office, hushed, rushed, heated words that Spencer feels horrible for straining his ear to listen to but it’s a strange sight.
He’s never seen you like this.
“How is that my fault? I can’t drop everything and take a plane over there every time shit hits the fan. They’re big kids now.”
What’s worse is your voice cracks and he wants desperately to rush to you, comfort you but he forces himself to stay where he is.
He strains his ear and hears you whisper,
“I’m not doing this again. I can’t be that person anymore. They’re 20, I can’t move back home just to baby them again. I’m not going to be walked all over by them anymore.”
You’re not together, you’re just friends- not super close but closer than anyone else on the team. Spencer feels like he should be comforting you when he moves to the kitchen and watches the first tear tumble down your cheek.
“Hey have you seen, Y/N?” Emily asks and Spencer turns his body to block you from view.
“She went to the bathroom, do we have a case?” He asks, stirring a pound of sugar into his coffee.
“Yeah, when she comes out tell her meet us at the jet.” She hands off a file to him and Spencer glances through the pages quickly.
Spencer watches you compose yourself, swiping at your face, fixing your hair and rolling your shoulders back.
Then he watches almost sadly, as you plaster a smile back on your face.
“Hey, Spence. Where’s everybody?” You open the fridge like you usually do and reach for the canister of whipped cream you keep tucked away.
“We have a case,” Spencer watches you shake it and spray some into your palm, connecting the dots over the many times he’s seen you do that in the last couple of months.
You’d always said it was just a, ‘pick me up’ and Spencer hadn’t thought twice about. You all have little things you do to keep you going in the job, but he realises now it’s less to do with work and more to do with your upset.
“Oh shit,” you spray another heap of cream in your palm. “I’ll get my go bag, can you fill me in while we walk, Spence?” You’re already turning to your desk, fiddling about the last draw for your go bag.
Your eyes are still a little red, and he watches you switch your contacts for glasses as soon as you get hold of the bag. “They burn a little right now,” you supply when you catch him looking and he nods like he doesn’t know the truth.
“Alright, let’s go,” he opens the case file Emily handed to him and starts, “So the unsub seems to be a woman hater? I’m not sure how no one figured him out before this is his sixth victim.”
You frown as you tuck your go-bag over your shoulder, “And the geography is all the same? No crossing state lines?”
Spencer admires how easily you slip back into work mode, but as soon as the case is over he needs to find a way to have you talk to him.
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togenabi · 7 months
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pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
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♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
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word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
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“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 
“Because they were overbored!” 
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 
“I’d like that.” 
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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strang3lov3 · 8 months
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VS
Summary: Yours and Joel’s newest patrol task is exploring the old mall not far from Jackson. You learn what Victoria’s Secret really is. (She was NOT having an affair with former president of the United States Colonel Sanders) AKA grumpy cranky joel and you get down and dirty in an old Victoria’s Secret.
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This is part 1 of my new series “Mall Rats”
Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, doin it in front of a mirror (thanks gracie!), reverse cowgirl, joel is a dick, joel is condescending, reader is charming just like me, Joel does all the work because reader is a lady and Joel is an asshole.
W/C: 4.7k
“Weird looking stairs,” you mumble as you take in the unique environment. Beneath your feet are metallic steps with deep lined grooves, in front of you is Joel, stepping down the staircase. In the enclosed building, the walls are lined with different shops, there’s a few different seating areas. Old posters, advertisements. Colorfully painted walls are overgrown with roots and vines. 
“S’cause they’re not regular stairs,” Joel says with a gruff voice. “S’called an escalator. Didn’t have to walk up and down the steps, you could stay stationary and it’d move ya up an’ down.”
“Sounds cool.”
“No,” Joel mutters. “Not cool.”
None of this is cool to Joel. In fact, it’s the opposite. 
Tommy and his crew had stumbled across this mall while on patrol. Of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but they deemed it largely safe of infected. He wasn’t sure how picked over it was, but he figured it would be a good task for you and your curious mind. Comb it through for supplies, clothing, entertainment. Take notes and report back to him. 
So what was Joel there for?
To chaperone you, of course. Keep you out of trouble, keep you safe, answer your million and one questions. 
It was Tommy’s sick and twisted idea of a joke. Joel’s new patrol project involved two of the things he disdained the most: Malls, and you.
 Comedy gold.
“No,” you mock his tone with a silly face, “Not cool.”
Joel rolls his eyes and ignores you. When you reach the bottom of the steps, he looks at his surroundings as he reaches in his bag for his flashlight. Turning it on he says, “We’ll start down here and work our way up. Scope everything out, get familiar. Then you can start combing through the stores for supplies and what have you. You stick by me. No wanderin’.”
“Don’t you mean we?” you ask. “We comb through the stores.”
“No, sweetheart, I don’t. S’your job, not mine. I’m just here to keep ya from gettin’ killed.”
Whatever. Joel can bitch and moan about this all he wants, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to explore the infinite wonders of the mall. It’s not like you’ve got much else to do. You’re indoors, safe from the elements and infected. You’re not complaining. 
You reach into your own bag and pull out your flashlight. You turn it on, and the light flickers dimly. You smack it with your palm a couple times before the light finally goes out, then turn to Joel with a sweet smile on your face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple extra–”
“You’re lucky I do,” Joel glares at you as he digs through his belongings to find a couple of double A batteries in his pack. You hold out your hand and he begrudgingly drops the batteries in your palm. “Quit fuckin’ around. Be prepared next time.” He’s certainly jolly today. 
You replace the batteries and turn your flashlight on, and begin to make your way through the bottom level of the mall. Joel’s said nothing since giving you the batteries. 
“So what did you do here? Or, not here specifically. Just like, malls in general,” you ask as you make your way through tables and chairs. A big sign on a nearby wall informs you that this area is called the food court. 
“I did nothing. Malls were always packed with people, way too busy. Too many teenagers. Expensive too,” Joel scrunches his nose as he catches a whiff of something foul at an old hot dog stand. “But other people, they’d come here and shop for clothes, get somethin’ to eat. Could catch a movie f’ya wanted.”
“So where’d you get your clothes from?”
Joel shrugs. “Dunno. Just kinda always had them in my dresser, I guess.”
Sounds like Joel. 
There’s a Panda Express, something called Auntie Anne’s that you and Joel are looking through together. He’s eyeing the cooking equipment and you’re baffled as you stare at a five gallon drum of nacho cheese on the floor.
“That cheese is probably still good,” Joel comments. 
“You’re joking.”
“It ain’t the real cheese like we got back in Jackson. Auntie Anne’s was a pretzel shop, lotta people would dip ‘em in that cheese.”
Auntie Anne’s doesn’t have much to offer, so you and Joel move right along. Next stop is Kentucky Fried Chicken. You point to the man on the logo. “Who’s that?”
“Colonel Sanders. He was the president way back when.”
You know better. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Sure he was,” Joel says. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
He’s such a dick. You roll your eyes and leave him and Colonel Sanders to their own devices as you walk through the rest of the food court. 
Joel doesn’t realize you’d left. He tells you another Kentucky Fried Fun Fact and when he’s met with no answer, he looks up to find you at Cinnabon at the end of the food court. 
He makes his way to you then kicks you with his boot. “Didn’t I tell you to stay next to me?”
You ignore his question and ask him your own. “What’s Cinnabon?”
“M’serious,” he says. “No more wanderin’.”
“Yeah, yeah. No wanderin’.” you mock his Southern accent once more. But more importantly, you demand answers. “Tell me about Cinnabon.” 
“They’re just cinnamon rolls. Cinnamon. Bun. S’in the name, genius.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t like those much either, then.”
“Actually, they were pretty good. Big and gooey, covered in icing. You were supposed to split ‘em with someone but I never did.”
“Ah, right. You and your sweet tooth,” You smile. 
“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Joel lies. “Keep movin’.”
So you do. There’s a lemonade stand here and there, but mostly shops now. A bookstore, jewelry stores. Something called “Wet Seal”. You ask Joel what it is, to which he replies “Fuck if I know.”
A shoe store has piqued Joel’s interest. He’s looking for a new pair of boots as you stare out the window of the shop, wondering who the hell Victoria is and what secret she’s hiding. Joel taps you on the arm to tell you to follow him as he leaves the shoe store.
“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”
“Oh,” Joel says. “Nothin’. We don’t need to go there.”
Oof. Bad move, Joel. Now you have to find out what the deal is with Victoria’s Secret. You take off for the store, ignoring Joel’s orders to stick by his side. “Did she have a secret affair with President Colonel Sanders?”
“No, god dammit. Get back here. We ain’t goin’.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t wanna.”
But you do. So you ignore his bitching and approach the store, stopping when you realize exactly what kind of store it is. “Oh.”
Joel catches up to you. “Mhm,” he mumbles. “S’just underwear. Now c’mon, I’m tired of chasin’ ya.”
“No way,” you argue. “I need new underwear. I’m actually going commando right now, so this is perfect.”
 Joel makes a face like he’s in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Boundaries.”
You don’t believe in TMI. 
You enter the store, entranced by the women in the photos and the black sparkly floor. There’s a big table with panties laid on top, drawers underneath that indicate sizing. You open the drawers with your size and begin sifting through the underwear. All different styles, patterns, colors. Way cuter than the few you have back in Jackson. 
You pick out a few different pairs. Brown with pink polka dots, pink with red roses. Some bikini styles, some boyshorts. You hold up a white pair with lace and a little blue flower sewn on the center of the waistband. “Joel, look! Aren’t these cute?”
“Just adorable,” he mumbles without bothering to actually look. If his voice were any more full of sarcasm he’d choke. Joel keeps his eyes firm on the ground, like he’s being intimidated by the mannequins and their threatening panties. You giggle and he shoots you a warning look. 
You look for a few more pairs, then find a few pairs that look a little different. You hold one up, trying to figure out which side you put your legs through. When you look at the nearly bare-assed woman in the advertisement that reads 5 for $20 above you, you realize how it’s meant to be worn. Oh, you think. Neato. You stuff a few of the thongs in your bag. Could be fun. 
Joel’s still behind you, eyes still focused on the floor, off in his own, prudish little world. You wonder what he’s thinking. There’s a fire engine red thong in the drawer, with sparkles and lace. You know, the works. And you know it’ll be just perfect for a special someone. “Hey, Joel. Found some for you.”
“Not interested.”
You loop the thong over your index finger and pull back with your other hand, then shoot it at Joel like it’s a hair tie. It hits him square on his nose and he catches it in his hand, then throws it on the ground as he pouts. “Alright, enough. You’re done. We’re leavin’.”
You shake your head. “Tommy said I’m in charge.”
Joel groans. “Oh, for the love of god. In charge, my ass.”
You know better than to keep arguing. So you just walk towards the bras, ignoring Joel’s voice in the background telling you to get back here. He hates it when you walk away from him when he’s speaking, so he always follows you so that you hear every last word. It works out, though. You get to do what you want, and Joel gets to give you his stern talking-to. How’s that for a compromise?
The bras are set up similarly to the panties, with different drawers for different sizes. Joel’s still going off about how you never follow orders, how you probably don’t even need any of this, you’re just doing it to get under his skin. And it’s working. Something about how when we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to take me off of patrol with y–
You interrupt. “The fuck?”
“What?”
“What does any of this mean? 30A, 30B, 32A, 34C, 34DD?” You hold up different bras and show him the tags. 
“Those are sizes, sweetheart.” 
“Yeah, I gathered that, thanks. But what’s my size?”
“Why’re ya askin’ me? Just grab one so we can go. Christ almighty.” 
Men. No help at all. 
Surely a store that specializes in bras must have some sort of sizing chart or something. There’s end caps with different beauty products, you stuff a strawberry flavored lipgloss in your pocket as you search. The register might have something, you guess. And lucky you, you’re right. Under the counter are a few measuring tapes and charts. 
Predictable Joel follows you, of course. He says nothing as you read through the instructions. First wrap around your back, under your armpits and just above your bust. That’s your band size. Then do the same with your bust, and subtract the band size from the bust. There’s your A, B, C, D and so on.
You take off your hoodie and stand in just a tank top, no bra. When you said commando, you meant it. Joel watches you as you wrap the measuring tape around yourself. 
“Sweetheart,” Joel interrupts, and he sounds exhausted. “What are you doin’.”
“Making you a Cinnabon, what’s it look like?” you mumble with your chin smushed into your neck as you try to read the numbers on the tape. 
And Joel thought Ellie was annoying. 
You’ve got the measuring tape twisted and tangled behind you, and you don’t even realize it. The inner contractor in Joel can’t bear to watch any more of this fuckery. “Give me that,” he spits, yanking the measuring tape away from your body. “You’re useless.”
Joel looks over the directions for a moment before tapping your arms. You lift up, he wraps the measuring tape properly around your body. There’s a nearby pen and he scribbles the number down, then lowers the measuring tape, his thumbs skating over the clothed flesh of your breasts. Your nipples harden as his fingers brush them accidentally. 
And you thought the thong you shot at Joel was red. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the shade of crimson Joel’s face turns as he realizes what he’s done. Quickly, he drops the measuring tape and writes down the second number and your bra size. “Ther-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “There. Go find your bra. Then we’re leavin’, and I’m not arguin’ this time.”
You smirk at his vocal mishap. “Okay. But I have to try them on first.”
“You never make things easy for me, do you?”
Joel follows you as you look for a few different bras in your size. You pick out a few that match your panties, and a few others. There’s a silky black bra with so much memory foam padding that it rivals your pillow at home. Again, perfect for your special someone. 
Joel’s smelling different perfumes when you sidle up to him and lay the bra on his head, the large cups sitting on either side of his scalp. “Mickey Mouse,” you tell him.
Joel glares at you as he removes the bra and drops it on the floor. “You are giving me a fuckin’ aneurysm.” 
You look pleased with yourself, which only makes him more pissed off. But the table next to Joel catches your eye. There’s a pretty satin babydoll dress, with a matching pair of panties. It’s a nice light pink color, with pretty floral lace. “Hmm.” you mumble, thinking to yourself.
Joel watches your eyes leave his face as you become distracted. “What?” he turns his attention toward where your vision is focused. “Oh. Nope. You don’t need that.”
 “Why not?”
“You said you needed underwear. S’lingerie. All them frills and lace…” Joel trails off.
“I think it’d be nice for a date night.”
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “I do not envy the poor bastard who takes you home,” he says. He’s probably just annoyed, at his wit’s end with you. Probably not jealous. Definitely not jealous. “But guys don’t give a shit what you’re wearin’, honey. Just wanna get what’s underneath. S’a waste of time.”
You shrug and grab your size in the lingerie anyway. Then you take off towards the dressing rooms to try everything on. You enter the first room on the right, and Joel sits at a bench directly across, just a few feet away from you. 
You try on a couple of bras and feel pleased when they fit and support you. They make the girls sit pretty, too.
You take off the bra and eye the pretty babydoll and its matching bottom. So you try it on, and it’s gorgeous. It frames you nicely, sits right above your ass to show off the panties. You admire yourself in the mirror for a while before deciding you’ll save it for a date night. Fuck what Joel says. Maybe he doesn’t like lingerie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. 
Things are going smoothly until you try to unhook the babydoll in the back. It’s stuck or something. You fidget with it for a second, accidentally smacking your elbow against one of the dressing room walls in the process. 
“Y’alright in there?” Joel calls out to you.
“Fine, just uh…” You step out of the dressing room. “Need your help with the hook in the back. It’s stuck.”
Joel looks like a deer in the headlights when you stand before him, clad in your pink satin babydoll and matching panties. You leave the changing room door open, Joel stares at your ass on the mirror attached to it. He’s all flustered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Lord have mercy.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not a lingerie guy.”
Joel swallows thickly. “I don’t know about that, exactly.”
“No?” You raise an eyebrow. Joel, suddenly a man of few words. How much nicer he is when he’s quiet, you think. “How about you unhook it so I can change?”
“Yeah I could uh…do that.” Joel stands up, then carefully holds the straps of your dress between his fingers. His featherlight touch leaves goosebumps on your shoulders. “Shouldn’t be wearin’ this. It’s very impractical.” 
“I know, Joel. You mentioned that.”
His hands trail lower down the straps, his fingers resting against your skin. “Uh huh. Cheap material…could get torn very easily f’ya aren’t careful.”
And then his fingers are moving up the straps again. He places two hands on your hips and turns you around, fingers skating across your ass cheeks. You feel his body step closer to yours, his hot breath on your neck as he whispers, “M’sure it's not stitched too good. Probably not easy to clean, either.” He catches you off guard when you look at yourself in the mirror. He’s staring intently at the reflection of your body, then his eyes flicker to yours.
“Right,” you agree. 
Joel’s scanning your body again, observing how the fabric falls around your curves just so. He looks hungry, like the moment you peel your eyes from him he’ll devour you.
“Are you gonna take it off of me?” He ignores your question as he pinches the bottom of your babydoll between his fingers, the soft satin tickling your skin as he moves the fabric. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon. I’m gettin’ there. Be patient f’me, now.” Your stomach flutters at the low timbre of his voice, the way he purrs in your ear. Joel absolutely does not like lingerie. Not one bit, god dammit.
His eyes are darkened with lust as he sucks in a breath, admiring the way your breasts sit beneath the clothing, the way it drapes over your stomach and rests on your hips. One of the straps falls off your shoulder and he clicks his tongue. “See? S’no good.”
“Guess so,” you agree, and he places the strap back on your shoulder, his fingers lingering for a moment too long as he contemplates his next move.
“Closer,” he pulls your hand towards himself, and you step backward. He lets his hands slide down your body over the lingerie and you watch him frown in the mirror, his hands stopping when he reaches the bottom of your dress. “N’it covers up all these pretty curves…” Joel lifts up the fabric, inspecting the craftsmanship of your panties. He takes note of the way they’re darkened beneath your core, sticky with your arousal. “These panties…thin, huh?” He traces a finger delicately over the strap on your hip, pulling it back and snapping on your skin. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “Joel,” you breathe shakily, “You’re teasing me.”
“M’sorry, darlin’. Just tryna show ya somethin’.” You watch as he trails a finger over your mound, dragging it across the damp cloth and finding your clit over the fabric. He rubs steady circles as he whispers, “See, now look at that. You’re stainin’ em. Makin’ a big fuckin’ mess of yourself.”
You bite back a moan. “Joel, what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like, I’m makin’ a Cinnabon.” Joel mocks you from earlier, but you don’t catch his snide teasing. You’re foggy headed and lost in this moment. “I just said I’m tryna show ya somethin’. Now hush while I’m speakin’.” He pushes your panties to the side, smirking when he feels how soaked your soft folds are as he drags his fingers up and down your slit. Your knees weaken and wobble, and Joel wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back some more. He sits on the bench with you on his lap, tapping a foot in between yours. You spread your legs and your stomach flutters feeling his hardness press against you. You watch him through the mirror as he speaks quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you as two of his thick fingers breach your entrance and push inside. “You said this lil’ number would be nice for a date, right?”
You nod while whimpering, turning your face into his neck. With his other strong hand, he holds your jaw and turns your attention back to the mirror in front of you. “S’matter? Don’t be gettin’ all bashful on me now,” he murmurs.  He’s curling his fingers, swirling them inside you and memorizing every inch of your walls. “Watch how I touch ya.”
You watch his fingers twitch and dance under your pretty pink panties. You peel your eyes away to look at his face, and he’s focused on his hand between your thighs. 
“S’pose it could be nice for a date,” Joel breathes. “You’d wear this, what, under a pretty dress or somethin’?”
You nod again.
“And then when that pretty dress comes off that evenin’, then what happens?”
“I-I dunno, Joel.”
“I know you don’t, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what happens. Your gentleman's gonna take one look at this little getup and rip it right off. Leave it in shreds on the floor and break your poor heart.”
You’re waiting for Joel to do just that. But he doesn’t, he just keeps fingering you under your panties. Two fingers deep inside you, thumb painting circles into your clit. There’s a heat building in your stomach, tickling you from the inside. Joel takes a moment to lift you up, undo his jeans and pull himself out before he begins to rock against you. His head nudges between your cheeks, warm and smooth and hard. How you wish you could see it, hold it in your hand, feel him with your tongue. You squirm against him and find his free arm, hugging it tight to steady yourself on him. Joel chuckles in a low tone.
“But I know you feel pretty,” Joel continues, “M’gonna work around it for ya, baby, but only if you’re good t’me. You know what that means?”
You’re irritated as you shake your head no. Joel’s using his fingers to taunt you, tease you. He knows just how he’s working you up, giving you just enough to keep you squirming but not enough to send you over the edge.
“It means–” Joel pulls his fingers away from your core and you groan. “Shush. Quit your whinin’.” He pushes you up by your hips so he can pull his pants down a little further, then sits you on his lap again, this time with his cock sitting between your folds and your panties pulled as far to the side as he could get them. With his hands still on your hips, he guides you up and down, up and down, coating himself in your arousal. You can just barely make out the shape as his tip rubs against your clit. He continues, “Means no more wanderin’,” he pulls the top of the babydoll down and watches your tits fall out, his both hands leaving your hips and sliding up to play with your breasts. “Y’come prepared for patrol,” he notches his stiff cock at your dripping entrance, “And I’m in charge. Not you. We clear?”
You nod. You’re not sure how he did it, but with Joel’s teasing, he’s seemingly melted away every bit of attitude in you.
“Good girl. Now don’t say I don’t do nothin’ for ya.”
With that, he thrusts up into you, parting your insides. You watch his cock disappear inside of you before throwing your head back on his shoulder with a moan. Joel smirks before using a firm yet gentle hand to guide your head back where he wants it. “Watch,” he coos, reminding you. “You’re pretty like this.”
Joel uses his hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock, then lets them glide up your body. He palms your breasts, squeezing and watching your flesh move and bulge under his fingers. He gropes you a couple of times while pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying the way your moans change pitch with the action. 
While Joel plays with your nipples, you ride him. Your thighs ache and tremble, knees shaking. You bounce yourself on him a little longer before letting yourself go limp. 
Joel takes the hint, drops his hands to your hips and picks up where you left off. You lean back and let him do his thing. “Gonna make me do all the work for ya, huh?”
You say nothing, just let those sweet sounds fall from your lips as he fucks you. You reach between your thighs and touch what you can of him, unsatisfied with the way you didn’t get to before. Joel makes a noise, seemingly enjoying it.
He kneads your ass as he uses his strong arms to move you up and down, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck,” he hisses. He lets out breathy sounds, grunts and growls tickling your ear and making the hair on your neck stand straight up. He’s sweating, soaking through his shirt and making your back feel damp. You’ll take what you can get of Joel right now, but you’re wishing you could see him better. Feel him more, his skin, watch his muscles twitch under you. Or above you. You don’t have a preference at the moment.
“Joel,” you moan. “Oh, Joel.”
He smirks, pleased with the noises you make. Pleased with your lack of words, your lack of attitude. How docile for him you are. He would have fucked you long ago if he knew you’d be like this. So well behaved. 
He turns his face into your neck and bites down. Hard. He soothes the marks over with his tongue, whispering nothings into your skin. You find your clit with your hand and begin circling it while Joel fucks into you. You think you have the right. Joel, however, disagrees.
“Hey,” he smacks your hand away. “What’d we talk about? Who’s in charge?” You move your hand between your thighs again, and Joel circles your wrist with his fingers and holds it away from you. “I asked you a question.”
“You are, Joel,” you breathe. 
“S’right. Means I take care of ya,” In the mirror, you watch Joel let go of your wrist and find your clit himself. “Thought you’d know better. Just sit pretty. S’all ya gotta do.”
“Joel,” you whisper, “Let me come,” 
“What’s the magic word, hon?”
“Please,” you beg. “Please. Make me come for you, I want–I wanna come on your cock, please. Please, Joel.”
“Wrong,”
You huff, exasperated and frustrated. 
 “It’s Cinnabon.”
Joel shifts himself on the bench, finding the perfect angle. He continues fucking you, effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside you. He pulls back the hood of your clit, fingers painting the sensitive nub as he begins his work. Your thighs tremble and shake, he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. 
He’s magic. You’re moaning with abandon, eyes darting between the picture between your thighs and his face, and he’s playing with you like he owns you. 
“Right there,” you tell him. “Right there, Joel.”
Soon enough, your moans become breathier and broken, spread out between a medley of curse words and Joel’s name. 
“Yeah,” he says. “Look at you, comin’ so nice on my cock.”
You squeeze Joel’s working arm as you come, nails digging into his hot skin, feeling his tendons and muscles twitch under your fingertips. Your walls pulse and contract with your orgasm, the pleasure built up deep inside you spilling over and coursing through your veins. 
You’re limp against Joel, letting him use you as he chases his own release. He sits you straight up, bounces you harshly for a moment before breathing through his gritted teeth. You pull your attention from the mirror in front of you and focus your vision on your lap, watching as he comes inside you. Watching yourself soak his cock. He keeps you moving, his spend spilling out of you and over your pink panties. 
Joel pulls your body off of him and sits you back down. His spend continues dripping out of you, spilling onto the bench. He gets your clothes out of the dressing room and places them next to you, then stands you up and unclips your babydoll dress in the back. You forgot about that. But he did say he was getting to it, after all. 
He pulls the garment off of you, then helps you out of your stained panties. He helps you into a new pair of panties, the white pair with the little blue flower on the waistband. “So you’re not goin’ commando anymore,” he says. Then he dresses you in one of your new bras, your shirt and your pants. The lingerie lays crumpled on the floor. 
“So you still don’t like lingerie?” you ask.
Joel shrugs. “Keep it. I don’t care,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You tried your shit on, we’re leavin’.”
That’s fine by you. Next stop is Bath and Body Works. You spotted it earlier, and you actually know what that store is. You’re low on body sprays and you’re gonna make Joel help you pick out some new ones, even if you have to drag him kicking and screaming. 
‘Cause Tommy said you’re in charge. 
Part two here
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joelsgu4tar · 22 days
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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS
⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽
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an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3
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Series
— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...
— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.
— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...
— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.
— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.
One-Shots
— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.
— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.
— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.
— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.
— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?
— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.
— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.
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msgexymunson · 2 months
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Brand Spanking New
Description: You unlock a new kink with your boyfriend Eddie: Spanking. 
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I will clobber you (and not in a good way), established relationship, sub fem reader x dom Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, p in v unprotected sex, rough but aftercare 
A/N: My phone keeps changing the word ‘spanking’ to ‘Spanish’. Don't you know me at all???? Also just trying to break writer's block by slamming out a lil smutty smut. Enjoy!
Reblogs and comments supply the oil that keeps the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart running. 
1.2k words
Masterlist
Grinding hot and heavy in his lap, your lips slip against his, sucking at the bottom one to attempt to satiate the need to have something of his inside of you. He’s groaning loud in your mouth, firm hands gripping into the flesh of your bare thighs for dear life, need radiating out of every subtle thrust of his hips. 
It's too much for him suddenly, the need spilling out as he taps your leg to silently ask you to lay down. If you feel the slight tap, you don't let it affect you, continuing your harsh grinding motions over his heavy bulge. 
His lips lose contact with yours, trailing burning kisses to your neck, as he whispers deeply in your ear. 
“Lay down baby girl.” 
How can you when it feels this good? When the shape of his dick is rubbing against your panties, the gusset sodden with your slick. 
His hand leaves your thigh, but only briefly. The crack of sound happens first, bursting in the air. The pain shoots up your leg moments later. Then, the realisation hits your brain. He hit your thigh. Hell, he spanked you. 
And you liked it. 
Time seems to stop as you gasp, locking eyes with him. 
“You liked that, didn't you?” That age old self satisfied smirk of his tugs at his face muscles as you pull your lips into a tight line, attempting to hide the raw desire that simple gesture had ignited in you. 
“What makes you say that?” 
Without a further word, his hand cracks down again, your thigh jiggling with the force. A desperate, ragged moan pushes out of your chest. 
“That.” He says smugly. “Hands and knees. Now.” 
The spell of his words have you acting without thinking, bending to his will with an empty mind and parted knees. 
“Just like that, good job baby girl.” 
Crack! His large hand lands again, this time on the supple skin of your ass, body nearly falling with the shock of it. Eddie's fingers dig into your hips, forcing you back into position. 
Crack! This time on the other cheek, a pornographic moan expelling from your chest so fast it hurts your throat. 
“Fuck, you do like that, don't you,” he says as his fingers rub at the wet spot on your panties. Moaning, you arch your back, moving into the touch of his fingertips. 
Crack! Again, a stinging blow that rips another groan from you. 
“I asked you a question,” his voice is hard, but the faintest sign of amusement clings to it like a gossamer web. 
Y-yeah, yes, I do Eddie, please-” 
Fresh air hits your cunt as he pulls down your underwear, strings of your arousal refusing to let go of them.
“Fuuuuck,” he says, fingers whispering through your wetness, spreading it around, “didn't know you wanted it like this. Was trying to be all sweet with you.” 
The next thing you hear is the jingling of his belt as he slips off his jeans and boxers. Wiggling in anticipation you back up a little, begging to feel the tip of his length. 
“Hey, stay still,” he says, using his swollen dick to tap at your clit, “or I'll just cum all over this ass instead. Understood?” 
“Yes Sir.” 
The sharp intake of breath and the sudden feeling of him crowding your back tell you all you need to know. 
“If I'd known all it took to get you obedient was a few spanks I'd have been smacking you around for months… Wait, no, that doesn't sound right.” 
You can't help but giggle, but it's swallowed whole by the feel of his member swirling around your entrance, gathering slick. Then, he pushes into you, mutual moans dragged out by the feel of him sliding against your quivering walls. 
Rough fingertips hold you steady as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. 
“You OK baby girl?” 
“Uh huh,” you manage, eyebrows knitted with the sheer stretch. 
“You know I really care about you, right?” 
“Yeah?” You respond, nearly a question as you tilt your head to try and get a look at him over your shoulder. 
“Good, ‘cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't.” 
There's no further warning, just the harsh grip of blunt fingernails denting into your hips and powerful thrusts forcing you closer to the mattress with each push. Each move makes your eyes roll back and whimpering sounds spill from kiss bitten lips. 
“Come on, stay up, atta girl.” 
His voice is steady, just a few puffing breaths like he's on some Sunday morning jog and not pounding you into next week. Its punctuated by a fiercer slap to the side of your ass that makes your pussy convulse. 
Arms shaking with effort, you try to stay up, but the pounding rhythm is too much. There's just too much Eddie. Eddie, forcing his fingers into you hard enough to bruise, Eddie, grunting meanly with each thrust, Eddie, his cock grinding into your sweet spot so hard it almost hurts. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 
You don't even realise that you're chanting his name over and over until you hear him chuckle behind you. 
“That's it, keep saying my name. And. Stay. Up.” 
Each word is punctuated by a drive forward that ripples through your body in waves, the sound of him gritting his teeth while he says it making you wetter by the second. 
“I- I can't, y- you're making me- fuck.” 
He laughs mirthlessly, humping into you even harder somehow, and winds his fingers into your hair, pulling it by the root. 
“Aww, have I fucked you dumb princess? You gonna come?” 
Words are beyond you, not even able to nod your head due to his tight grip. Seconds later you're screaming your release so high and loud you'd be surprised if no one called the police. It certainly felt like a near death experience, your vision darkening and fuzziness expanding through your limbs. 
It's not long before Eddie's yanking you upright and groaning into your ear as he looses his load deep in your cunt. 
He sits back on his heels, pulling you close so you can perch in his lap. Gone is the dominant, mean side. Your Eddie is back; stroking your hair and making soothing noises as he wipes stray tears you didn't even know had fallen. 
“You OK sweetheart?” He asks, voice brimming with concern. 
“Hmmmm.” It's nearly a purr, still incapable of speech. 
“You just lay down right here, that's it, arms here, lemme grab a cloth.” 
Coming back moments later, he cleans you up and offers you some water. 
“Sorry if I went overboard princess.” He sounds almost sheepish as he says it, a blossom of embarrassed colouring tattooing his cheeks. 
“No, you didn't, honestly. I think I could sleep for a week though.” Giggling, you lace sleepy fingers with his. 
“Good, ‘cause there's other stuff I think you'd like.” 
You're not even sure you heard him right, eyes drooping already. 
“Other stuff?” 
“Shhh, sleep baby girl, I don't wanna scare you just yet.” he chuckles, kissing your temple as you drift off to the feeling of his fingers carding through your hair.
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes
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lovelettersfromluna · 2 months
Text
Not Strong Enough
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Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.
an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍
Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!
Read part 1 here!!
Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.
She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.
Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.
She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.
But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.
Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.
Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.
She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.
She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.
Ellieeeeee
Where are you?
Haven’t seen u in the longest :((
Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.
At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.
Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.
Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.
Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.
As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.
It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.
She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.
And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.
But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.
She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.
You always remind her though.
Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.
She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.
If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.
“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.
She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.
Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.
Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.
And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.
Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.
But you knew immediately that this was different.
The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.
So, why did you feel so bad that morning?
You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?
As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.
You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.
And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.
Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.
With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.
To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.
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You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.
Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.
You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.
Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.
You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.
And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.
It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.
You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.
Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.
Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.
All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.
Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.
“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.
“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.
She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.
You however, have other plans.
You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.
Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.
“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.
Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.
Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.
You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.
“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.
But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.
When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.
“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.
Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.
It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.
Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.
She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.
So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.
Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.
“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.
You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.
Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.
She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.
“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.
And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.
Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.
It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.
Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.
“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.
It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.
“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.
“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.
“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.
She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.
“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.
You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.
“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.
You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?
Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.
She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.
“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.
“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.
“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.
“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.
You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.
“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.
She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.
“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.
And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.
And you have no choice, but to kiss her.
It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.
It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.
Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.
“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.
You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.
“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.
“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.
But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.
And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.
“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.
“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.
Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.
“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.
“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.
Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.
Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.
You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.
You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.
“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.
“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.
Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.
And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.
You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.
It made your head fucking spin.
You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.
“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.
Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.
“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.
“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….
“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.
You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.
Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.
“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.
She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.
“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.
“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.
Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.
Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.
You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.
She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.
“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.
“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.
And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.
You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.
“I love you, pretty girl..”
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ominouspuff · 3 months
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Kote’s House
Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.
The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 
His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.
He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.
He tries to explain how wonderful it is —
“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”
—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.
Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.
Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.
“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.
“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.
He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 
They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 
Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?
Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 
“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.
Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.
Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.
“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 
“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”
Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”
Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.
He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 
What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.
Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.
Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 
He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.
“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 
“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.
He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 
“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 
Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.
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You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.
Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷
Word Count: 3.8k
The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain. 
He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.
Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect. 
But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.
He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you. 
Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren. 
---
Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment. 
So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon. 
He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.
His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside. 
Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.
Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps. 
Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”
He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.
“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.
That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.
Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?” 
Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. 
You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.
---
The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing. 
He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer. 
You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river. 
The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.
Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.
Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?
Had he ever felt like this?
After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then. 
“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.
You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about. 
“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.
Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight. 
“Are you a painter?” he asked.
“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”
Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.
On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought. 
You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”
You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.” 
“Can I walk you home?”
Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air. 
It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”
You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”
Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”
---
Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet. 
Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet. 
He waited. And waited.
Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?
He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.” 
Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly. 
Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”
His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you. 
You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”
Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated. 
“Dancing,” you grinned.
“I can’t dance.” 
“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.” 
“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.
“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”
Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”
You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.
By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.
But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music. 
He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.
You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”
He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded. 
You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders. 
“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing. 
He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.
“There you go,” you grinned. 
Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again. 
He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his. 
Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there. 
Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his. 
He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air. 
Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red. 
“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight. 
“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face. 
The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his. 
For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.
At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.
---
Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow. 
Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.
But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.
He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.
So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.
There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway. 
The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”
Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”
He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”
Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”
The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”
He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.
You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.
“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”
There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.” 
You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”
Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”
“Jax.”
“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”
You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”
He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”
That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies. 
Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining. 
---
Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages. 
You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations. 
“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.
Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints. 
You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting. 
Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him. 
By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel. 
You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”
“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.
Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting. 
“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.
It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.
“Do you like it?” you said quietly. 
“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”
He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you. 
You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”
Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public. 
---
By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.
Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand. 
The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break. 
The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars. 
Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.
“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.
You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly. 
“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.
“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.
“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you. 
Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars. 
“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.
889 notes · View notes
frantic-fiction · 3 months
Text
Unexpected
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Pic: @cheekylittlepupp (I love her posts)
Astarion x gn!Tav, Astarion x gn!reader
Summary: A night of seduction takes an unexpected turn, leaving Astarion to realize just how deep his feelings for Tav have developed.
Warnings: Astarion not knowing how to handle affection. Mild disassociation. Astarion has a lot of confusing feels.
Word count: 2.8k
Masterlist
Astarion sprawls across the blanket, his spine cracking against the stretch. A reflexive groan escapes him. His arms are crossed to cushion his head while the sun's heat seeps into his bones. The last time he felt this warm and relaxed was when his heart still beat in his chest. He feels like he could trance, in just a moment.
It still baffles him, the luck of it all. Being ripped right out of that bastard's chains, only to be dropped in the middle of nowhere with a tadpole in his head and a bunch of problematic weirdos for company. And Tav. Tav, who Astarion has yet to fully figure out. 
At first, he thought the naive little hero thing was all an act, but no, that was just Tav. And a sweet, naive person was exactly who he needed to keep his place in this group. He had already seduced them; now, he just needed to keep them on his side.
Astarion is pulled from his thoughts. He's not sure why until his ears twitch at the sound of boots scuffing on dirt. Pushing up on his elbows, Astarion looks up towards the tree line. 
Tav, slightly obscured by clouds of disturbed dust, is trudging up the west trail. Their body seems to have deflated, shoulders slumped, both hands gripping their pack straps as if the moment they let go, the heavy bag would pull them to the ground.
Tav looks exhausted, not the kind brought on by a poor night's rest or a long day's travel. But one that builds up slowly, from continuous tasks and responsibilities, with constant eyes looking for guidance in a time none could imagine experiencing. The suffocating feeling that claws its way under the skin, burying deep behind fake smiles and pleasantries.
Sitting up further, he watches Tav start to make their rounds. First to Gale, they pull a necklace out of their pocket before placing it in his palm. The wizard makes what's sure to be a subpar joke, and Tav's delicate laugh rings out—Astarion glares in annoyance. 
Tav says goodbye and moves over to Wyll. They unsheaths a polished rapier- a replacement for the one Wyll managed to break when they fought against a pack of minotaurs. It's ridiculous if you ask Astarion, but Tav tells him to keep his comments to himself and, as they say, "don't bite the hand that feeds." 
After a quick hello to Lae'zel, Tav's eyes find Astarion. They perk up a bit, a timid smile stretching their plump lips. Astarion is now fully on his feet, returning their smile with a smirk of his own.
"Hello, my sweet," Astarion says, moving behind Tav. "Let me," he pulls the straps off Tav's shoulders, letting the heavy pack fall into his arms. "Hells, my dear, you carried this all the way from town."
"It's not that heavy," they mumble, reaching for the bag.
Astarion swiftly pulls the pack from Tav's reach. "What did you get?" He quirks his brow and unlatches the pack to begin sifting through its contents.
Tav huffs something under their breath and crosses their arms, but makes no further attempt to reach for the bag. 
The pack is brimming with food, potions, arrows, daggers, and scrolls, all basic supplies. "Boring," Astarion says, tossing the bag to the side carelessly.
"If anything broke, it's coming from your gold pouch."
"Yes, yes, of course," Astarion says, waving his hand casually before turning up the charm. They look up at him with lidded eyes and a glaze over look . "Are you alright?" Astarion asks, his voice laced with played-up concern.
"Hmm... O-Oh, yeah, yes, I'm fine." Their eyes dart away, seeming to look for the next lie. "You know me; I'm always doing good."
Astarion glances around the camp, looking at the others. None seemed to be paying attention to the two of them. He steps forward and brushes a strand of hair behind Tav's ear, trailing his fingers down their neck.
"I've begun to know you very well, my sweet, and I can tell you are exhausted."
"I'll be fine," Tav catches his hand and starts to play with his fingers.
Astarion freezes, brow furrowing in confusion. They're just pulling slightly at his hand. An odd feeling settles in Astarion's stomach.
Why are they doing that?
They let go a moment later, and Astarion pulls his hand back quickly.
"I've got to talk with Shadowheart; if you'd like, you can feed on me tonight." Tav hesitates before quickly pecking his cheek and skipping off.
Astarion is left staring after them with this dreadful fluttering in his stomach. A hand absentmindedly touches his cheek. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows hard. 
Astarion has an idea brewing that would please Tav, and maybe he would even get another of those soft kisses.
Why would he care for another damn kiss? Gods, what is happening to him? Is it the damn tadpole?
It's nightfall when Astarion finds Tav again. They are sat on the ground, suffocated between a growing owlbear cub and a slobbery dog. Scratch's tail wags and the subtle movement of Tav's hands petting each animal's fur are the only movements. Tav's eyes are closed, and their face is relaxed.
"Should I grab the cleric?"
"No, I think the rogue will do just fine." 
Tav's eyes open, their face breaking into a bright smile. They sit up, displacing the animals who no longer consider Tav a suitable bed. 
"Time for dinner?" Tav wiggles their fingers at them, beckoning for assistance.
Astarion scoffs but grabs their wrists and pulls Tav to their feet. Tav stumbles forward a step and presses into him. He gets the urge to kiss them for no reason other than he wants to and almost leans down to do just that when Tav speaks.
"So… my tent or yours?"
Astarion blinks out of his thoughts. "Right, I think my tent tonight,” he offers his arm, which Tav takes. "This way, my dear."
Tav allows Astarion to escort them to his tent, where upon entrance, on a small table sits a platter containing a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese he nipped from Gale's pack, alongside a fresh vine of grapes he may or may not have gone all the way to the bloody town for. Tav mentioned it was their favorite fruit, and hearing the shocked gasp made that obnoxious trip at least worth it.
"What's all this for?"
"I was feeling a bit peckish tonight, so I decided to have a nice meal. I merely wanted to rub it in your face."
Tav rolls their eyes and punches him in the arm dropping to the ground. They pluck a grape from the vine, pop it in their mouth, and pierce the skin with their teeth. 
"Where did you even get all this?"
"If I told you the lengths I went," Astarion says, pulling out a bottle of wine and popping the cork. "I would have to kill you, Darling. I've got an image to keep."  He pours out a glass and passes it over.
Tav chuckles and thanks him and takes a sip. Astarion sits on a cushion beside Tav with his own glass, watching them slice the bread. It quiets long enough for Tav to finish the slice of bread with some cheese along with a couple of grapes. 
Astarion couldn't help but think how cute they looked, cheeks puffing slightly from too big of a bite. They swallow it with a mouth full of wine, a droplet falling down their chin. He wants to catch it with his thumb.
"But seriously, isn't this time reserved for your midnight snack?"
"Typically, but you looked so tired, my dear." Astarion places his goblet to the side and scoots closer to Tav. "I wanted to help you relax, help you sleep. You are always doing so much for everyone."
He plucks a grape and leans in, guiding it to their wine-stained lips. Lowering his voice, he whispers deep and low, "Let me help you."
Tav instinctually opens their mouth, letting the fruit fall in between their lips; their tongue catches Astarion's thumb briefly before his hand retreats. He cups their jaw, and traces over Tav's cheekbone.
 Every time he gets a chance to look, really look at Tav. Astarion can't help being captivated by their beauty. The shine of their hair, the softness of their face alway so warm and inviting, their nose scrunching up anytime he teases. So gorgeous. 
Tav's doe eyes flick down from his eyes to his mouth. Their tongue peaks out gently swiping across their bottom lip. 
Who kisses who is irrelevant. Only the feeling of their smooth lips gliding against his, the shaky exhale of breath, Tav's warm hands curling around his neck, fingers carding into his hair. 
Tav pulls away to breathe, running their nose against his. Astarion can't remember the last time a kiss left him wanting more. And having Tav rush back into the kiss as desperate as he feels sent unfamiliar shivers down his spine.
Astarion's hand presses against the small of their back, pulling Tav close to his chest. The other falls on their thigh, gripping gently like a lifeline. Astarion sighs low in his chest and runs his tongue against the seam of Tav's lips. They tentatively part, and Astarion chases the taste of grapes and bread.
Hells, he wishes to stay in the moment- in the softness of this kiss, the closeness of their bodies. His chest felt light, and the warmth of Tav's body under his hands is something he never wants to stop feeling. It feels as if nothing more needs to happen if either party deems it so.
But that wasn't how this worked. No one ever wanted a simple kiss. Astarion was never the innocent kiss that had you blushing the whole walk home. He was the sinful whisper and dirty looks. The pleasure before the end. Never this.
So Astarion begins the routine he's done a thousand times before.
His mouth leaves Tav's lips, trailing hot, wet kisses down the column of their throat. Tav releases the softest whimper when he bites at the flesh of their shoulder. Their fingers tighten in his hair. He grunts.
Astarion no longer feels quite present; it is more like he is simply observing the scene as a third party. Just finish the task. 
His agile fingers snake up their waist, pulling their shirt from their pants and caressing the smooth skin underneath. Astarion begins to unbutton their top when Tav grabs his hand.
"Wait." They say out of breath.
Astarion focuses back in, eyes taking in the look of Tav's flushed face and kiss swollen lips. They look flustered, and he's suddenly confused about why they stopped him.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. I was…" They trail off, looking away then back again. "Could… we not do this tonight?"
That wasn't what he thought they’d say and it has Astarion momentarily at a loss for words. What does he do now? Tav's looking at him, and he's still frozen. No one has asked him not to have sex before.
"Yes, of course. Would you like me to pack this food and escort you back to your tent?" He sounds robotic to his ears and cringes. 
"No."
Astarion's brow furrows. Do they want his tent? Okay, he can work with this. Let them have his tent for the night; he'll be fine. And it's a nice thing to do since they don't want sex. He can still win favor. Right?
"That will not be a problem, my dear. I was going to be out late hunting anyway- probably until morning. You're welcome to sleep here. Rest well."
Astarion moves to leave- flee more like when Tav grabs his wrist.
"Wait," Their voice is so tiny.
Astarion turns back to Tav. They won't meet his eyes and are playing with his fingers again. Is this something people do? Or just Tav?
"Would you hold me?" A subtle blush began to bloom across their cheeks.
"I can't sleep; I keep having nightmares. I keep waking up trapped in my body." Tav released his hand to hug themselves. "I just don't want to sleep alone again."
Tav. Fearless, reckless, heroic Tav. Who killed more goblins and helped more people than any hero he could think of. To see them look so small, so vulnerable. And ask him. Him. To hold them, protect them from the monsters that torment their sleep. 
His mind is ricocheting around. Who was this person before him? So kind, so beautiful, so trusting of him, who deserves none of it.
Astarion has been quiet for too long. He knows this when he sees hope drain from Tav's wide eyes. They are looking for a way to leave.
"Okay," Astarion croaks, nodding before clearing his throat and repeating the word more confidently.
Tav beams at him. "Okay."
They stay rooted in place, awkwardly staring at each other. Tav bites their lip, tugging it between their teeth. Astarion feels like he's been plunged into the deep end. Every physical encounter he's partaken in was sexual and one he quickly left feeling used and disgusted.
This was new territory; did Tav want him to initiate? How did he initiate this without sex?
Astarion looks down when he feels a tug at his arm. "Um, would it be okay if we laid down?"
Astarion nods rigidly, his tongue cemented in his mouth. He moves to his bedroll and lays back. Astarion's body felt like a wood plank, he couldn't seem to relax. Tav sees this of course, because they seem to alway notice him. 
Everything Astarion wished to keep buried, all his dirty secrets, he kept behind the facade he perfected over the centuries. Tav seemed to see through everything. Read him in a way no other had.
"Astarion," he looks up, Tav's kneeling beside him, eyes full of concern. "If you're uncomfortable, I can-"
Astarion snaps back to himself. He shakes his head and props himself up on his elbow. A flirtatious smirk automatically stretches his lips.
"Me? Uncomfortable? Pfft, Darling, to have you pressed against me all night," Astarion reaches out to pull Tav's arm hard enough to have them stumble onto his chest with a small yelp. 
His voice drops to a husky whisper. "I don't think there's anything I'd like more."
Astarion chuckles at how reactive Tav always is to him. Their hands are splayed against his chest, face inches from his. 
They open their mouths to speak, but Astarion cuts them off with a kiss long enough to leave Tav chasing him for another.
"Though I will admit, having you so close, it's going to be very difficult to keep my hands to myself."
"I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself. I want you to hold me." Tav speaks plainly as they adjust til they are pressed against his side.
Their head is in the space between his collar and jaw. Astarion takes a deep breath. The smell of pine, rosewater, and something distinctly Tav hits his nose. The scent alone acts like a cool drink of water during a searing summer day, calming his anxiety. 
Tav grips the front of his shirt loosely and tangles their legs with his. Astarion was initially unsure what to do with his hands, hovering them slightly over the contours of Tav's body. But he adjusts quickly enough, and pulls them tighter against his chest, chasing the addictive warmth of their body.
This was strange, unfamiliar, but…nice. Tav's nose brushed against his neck, and the heat of their mumbled words fans over his skin. Astarion hums in question.
"Thank you," Tav repeats, yawning, their words slightly slurs from exhaustion. "You make me feel safe."
Tav was trying to break the record for how many times they could shock Astarion in one day. But before he could come up with a charming retort, their breath had already evened out. Tav fell into the world of dreams, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Astarion didn't trance that night, just staring up at the roof of his tent, listening to the soft breaths and steady heartbeat, rubbing absentminded patterns to the planes of Tav's back. 
Why couldn't he have found them when he was still so hopeful? Less broken. Because he think he might have been able to make it through just about anything with Tav by his side.
Tav, whose eyes find him first. Who makes sure he's fed and comfortable and okay with the plan even though he could give two shits about the poor fools that need saving. 
Who asks to be held at night when the dreams are too dark to handle alone, and they trust Astarion of all people to keep them safe? Where was Tav when he needed and pleaded for someone to care for and protect him from the cruelty of this realm?
Gods, he thinks he loves Tav. The thought turns his stomach to lead, but he stops and takes a deep breath. That is something he will have to think about tomorrow. 
All Astarion wanted to think about right then was the person in his arms. He kisses the top of Tav's head and closes his eyes. Astarion doesn't believe he's ever felt more at ease.
I really enjoyed writing this, so please let know what you thought. Astarion discovering his feelings for Tav past his survival instinct is a personal favorite type of fic for me, so I want to write one of my own.
Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive
Want to be added? DM me please!
1K notes · View notes
multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months
Text
Cats and Coffee for Two
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pairing: photgrapher/barista!Wonwoo x barista fem!reader (ft. other sebongs)
genre: fluff, comedy, coworkers to lovers!AU, mutual pining, smut - minors dni.
warnings: mentions of food, alcohol and cat hairs, mentions of headaches and insecurities
smut warnings: oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex (contraception is mentioned but wrap it), creampie, praise, use of petnames, body worship, semi-public sex, manhandling, marking, making out, aftercare
word count: 12.2k
summary: Job hunting is a tough sport and Wonwoo has experienced it to its core. One fine autumn day comes where he's finally free from the shackles of unemployment, but he will soon find himself in the shackles of coffee, tea and cat hairs, But most importantly, he will have to share these shackles with you.
Author's note: this is my entry for the fall-ing for you collab hosted by @svthub! another long piece written by yours truly lmao
p.s.: huge thank you to @bitchlessdino, @gyuwoncheol, @wongyuseokie, @onlymingyus, @wonwussy, @horanghater and @shuadotcom for helping me out with the fic in more ways than one💕
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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“....We received your CV and cover letter. While your educational details are impressive, the lack of working experience does not make you a suitable candidate for the work position in our company. 
We thank you for your time and effort, and we wish you the best of luck.”
“Well fuck off, autogenerated e-mail response.” Wonwoo grumbles and sends the mail straight to the trash bin with an annoyed huff.
Another job opportunity flushed down the drain, to the point where another headache punches its way into his skull. 
He’s tired. He’s tired, drained and disappointed as fuck. He knew job hunting is a tough sport, but he didn’t expect to be kicked to the curb for such a long time. He was hoping to get a chance for an interview, but not even that? 
It makes him wonder if the years he spent in college were worth it after all. 
Wonwoo’s headache gets stronger, to the point he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He closes his laptop and gets up from his seat, making a beeline to the cupboard where he stores his medical supplies.
He swallows a painkiller, followed by a generous gulp of water from a bottle, hoping it will soothe the pain soon enough.
He walks over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. His energy levels have dropped to absolute zero and the maroon colored couch pillow suddenly seems like a gift sent by the Heavens. He takes off his glasses and lays his head on the pillow, eyes closing shut within a few seconds.
Two hours later, his sweet slumber is disrupted by the familiar ringtone of his phone, but the noise doesn’t make him any less terrified. 
“H-Hello?”
“Hi loser, it’s me, your professional emotional and mental support!” A bright voice echoes from the other end of the line.
Wonwoo checks the ID of the caller and groans when he sees Seokmin’s name.
“What is wrong with you, Seokmin?”
“Bold of you to ask that question.”
“I am serious, Seok. Haven’t you heard of afternoon naps?”
“Dude, it’s eight o’clock.”
Wonwoo checks his watch and sighs in disappointment. “Fuck, I overslept, damnit.”
“Just how long were you asleep for?”
“Doesn’t matter anymore. Why did you call me?”
“Oh I don’t know, because you’re my friend and I want to check up on you because you’ve been in a slump lately?”
“Damn, way to call me out, I guess.”
“If I don’t call you out, then who will?!”
“....Fair point.”
“Anyways, I’m planning to grab some drinks with Minghao in an hour.”
“Oh nice, hope you have fun.”
“And you’re coming with us.”
“No.”
“Oh come on! It won’t be anything wild, just the three of us drinking some alcohol!” Seokmin whines. “Please? Just this once?”
Wonwoo ponders over his friend’s request and grumbles from his end.
“Fine, if it means to make you hop off my ass, I guess.”
“What ass?”
“You know what, I changed my mi-”
“I’m just kidding!”
“You better be.”
“Okay okay, no need to get your claws out!” 
“Anyways, I’ll see you guys in an hour.” 
“Nice! Make sure to shower before getting out of the house.”
“Fuck you, Seokmin.”
Wonwoo ends the phone call and gets up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a whiff from his shirt and he scrunches his eyes in disappointment.
“He’s right, I should take a shower.”
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Wonwoo is glad he accepted Seokmin’s invitation, because he had no idea how much he needed this. Not that he would ever admit it.
“You seem less tense than earlier.” Minghao comments.
“It’s all thanks to the alcohol.” 
“And the good company!” Seokmin butts in with his soju glass. “It’s okay to admit I was right.”
“And let it get to your head? No thank you.”
“Wonwoo is right, it will get to your head.” 
“I hate you both!” Seokmin whines and downs his shot.
“Now that’s a lie and you know it.” The younger man deadpans.
Wonwoo watches the bickering between his friends, the rim of the soju glass resting on his bottom lip. But his mind is wicked enough to slip back into his own worries, his face frowning once more.
“Wonwoo? Are you okay?”
Minghao’s voice snaps him out of his trance.
“Hm? Yeah, all good.”
“Buddy, with all due respect, you were looking like your pet cat died or something.” Seokmin narrows his eyes.
“Fuck off, Salem is perfectly fine!” Wonwoo shivers.
“Are you still worried about finding a job?” Minghao asks, hitting the nail on the head.
“Well, how can I not be? I have been struggling ever since I graduated and all I’ve managed to do is photoshoots for stupid influencers!”
He realizes his voice was louder than it was supposed to be, judging from the side-eyeing glares he earned from other customers.
“Damn, you really had to stoop so low?” Seokmin scratches his head.
“Money makes the world go around, or something like that.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Minghao asks again.
“I don’t have enough work experience, let alone serious one, which means my CV doesn’t look very professional right now.”
“Hmm….”
“What?”
“I may have a solution to your problem.”
Wonwoo’s eyes go wide, his irises filling with hope.
“Do you remember Joshua? From the Social Relations department?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“He’s currently working at SVT Cat Cafe, he manages the paperwork and stuff. He could put in a few words for you, if you don’t mind.” Minghao sips the last of his soju.
“You should take the offer, Wonwoo! The cafe is really cute and you will love the kitties!” Seokmin grins excitedly.
“It’s…It sounds really good, to be honest. Almost too good to be true.” Wonwoo lets out a breath he was holding all this time.
“You can always check out their website and send your CV in their email address. They are still hiring people, so it’s a good chance.” 
“Hao, I don’t know what to say, seriously.” Wonwoo laughs nervously.
“People usually say thank you.” Seokmin jokes.
“One more word and I’ll shove the entire soju bottle in your mouth, I swear.”
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The view through the window is nothing short of idyllic, almost like the aesthetic images you see on Pinterest and Instagram. Maple leaves are dancing to the rhythm of the November winds, adding color to the dull concrete of the pavement, even if you know they won’t stay there for long.
You can’t say you’ve gotten used to the chilly weather, especially after your late vacation in Greece - it’s always too warm there, as you were warned beforehand. But you’re definitely glad you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee with cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles before the opening.
You hear tiny meows behind the mahogany counter and you walk in front of it, letting out a sigh when you pinpoint the source of the noises.
“Tofu, I swear to God.” You put the cup down and pick the white kitty in your arms. “I know you like roaming around but your cat hairs are invisible and I don’t want them in the beverages.”
The feline just tilts her head sideways and purrs in your arms, her green eyes staring at you, as if she is the most innocent creature in the universe (she is, most of the time).
“Your boba eyes aren’t working on me, missy. I know your true nature.”
Tofu responds with another meow, as if she’s asking you ‘who, me?’.
You go back and forth with the cat’s meows and purrs, utterly unaware of the presence of two men just a few feet away.
“Does that happen on a daily basis?” Wonwoo asks with a hushed voice.
“Yeah, with almost every single cat.” Joshua responds. “Although Tofu is her favorite.”
“I think I can see that.” 
You hear a couple of whispers behind you and you turn your attention to the two men.
“Oh, Joshua! You’re early today.” You comment. “And who is the gentleman next to you?”
“U-Uh, hi. I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” The man fixes his glasses nervously.
“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.” You stretch your arm, waiting for a handshake. 
“L-Likewise.” Wonwoo hesitantly shakes your hand.
“Wonwoo will be the photographer for our social media accounts and official website, starting today.” Joshua adds.
“Oh, that’s great news!” You exclaim. “I promise you’ll have a wonderful time working here, Wonwoo.”
“I sure hope so.”
“Well, I’m afraid I have to take my leave now, business is calling.” Joshua announces after checking his watch. “Do not worry, Wonwoo. I’m leaving you in great hands. And paws.”
“See you later, Shua!” You bid your coworker farewell.
Tofu walks around Wonwoo’s legs and rubs herself all over him.
“I think she likes you.”
“You think so?” Wonwoo asks as he bends down to pet the cat, a fond smile on his face as the feline leans into his hand.
“She’s pretty picky with people, so seeing her so warm towards someone she has never seen before is pretty much a miracle.” You chuckle.
“Well, I should feel honored then.” He responds with a small smile.
“Would you like to order something? I could fix you a cup before the opening.”
“Um, could I have an iced americano then?”
“Wow, you’re brave.” You laugh in disbelief.
“What makes you say that?”
“You just ordered iced coffee in the middle of autumn. Does your throat have a death wish?” You put a few ice cubes in a plastic cup.
“Force of habit, I guess.” Wonwoo replies.
“That sounded very…moody.”
“Sorry, it wasn’t my intention…” He laces his fingers together and purses his lips together.
“You aren’t quite the extroverted one, are you?” You place the cup with the bitter liquid in front of him.
“Not really.” 
“It’s okay! You will be able to overcome it with time.” You try to reassure him.
“If you say so.” Wonwoo takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ll go check out the rest of the cafe, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, feel free to explore a bit!” You smile at him while you wrap your apron around your waist.
“The coffee is really good, by the way.” 
“Thank you! It’s my job, after all.”
Wonwoo searches for his wallet in his backpack, but you stop him before he finds it.
“It’s on the house, no need to pay for it.”
“But-”
“Good luck today, Wonwoo.”
“T-Thanks. You too, Y/N.”
He looks at you one last time before he goes to the open space of the cafe to familiarize himself with his surroundings.
The day progresses without any problems - if anything, the regular customers have already started gossiping about Wonwoo, although most of it revolves around his God-like facial features.
You kinda wish you were serving the coffee instead of making it behind the counter. At least you would have been able to see Wonwoo up close in action with his camera. But you can’t say you haven’t been stealing glances through the window that separates the two spaces of the cafe.
“Eyeing the new guy, are we now?” One of your coworkers leans on the counter in an attempt to gossip.
“Oh, shut up, Chan.”
“What? I’m just asking!”
“Define asking?”
“For someone who claims to be the sunshine type in this business, you’re pretty snappy right now.” The ashen-haired man snickers.
“I’m not snappy! It’s rush hour and I’m trying to focus on my job.” You defend yourself.
“It’s rush hour for everyone here, you’re not special, Y/N.”
“Either way, you’re not getting anything out of me, Chan.” You place two porcelain cups filled with hot chocolate. “Now get these to table four.”
“Vibe killer.” Chan grumbles under his breath as he places the cups on the disk.
“I heard that, shortie!” 
“No cupcakes for you tomorrow!” He mocks you before disappearing into the outer space of the cafe.
You let out an exasperated sigh, followed by a short laugh and you return to the coffee machine, checking the orders you have received and start making them one by one.
While the cafe hasn’t been operating for long, you’ve been part of it since day one. You feel glad to be finally putting your barista working license to work and do something that you love dearly - blame your undying love for coffee and cats.
Chan was also one of the first employees who joined the team, but he’s on the service part and he’s damn good at it (even if he did break a couple of glasses on his first week). The regular patrons know him by name and he never fails to make them swoon over with just a single smile of his.
Chan is a sweetheart, but also a little shit when it comes to teasing you. Although he never once overstepped with teasing. But he always goes overboard with the treats he gets you from the bakery across the street. You still remember the six pieces of cinnamon rolls he got you two weeks ago and how persistent he was for you to eat them all (you ate them all eventually).
Late in the afternoon, your shift comes to an end and you hang your apron, starting to pack up your stuff. Wonwoo walks into the main area and starts dismantling his camera to put it back in its box.
“So, how did the first day go?” You attempt to strike conversation.
“It was….interesting, I suppose.” He shrugs.
“You sound a bit tired….”
“My social battery died about halfway through the shift, to be honest.” He admits with a heavy sigh. “At least the cats are sociable enough to let me pet them.”
“I think you should go home and get some rest.” You give him some advice.
“I don’t think rest is going to happen anytime soon, but thanks.” He zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “Goodnight and see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He bids you farewell and disappears through the doors of the cafe.
Shame, he’s cute but so uptight, you think. It’s not like there’s anything else you can do right now, so you leave the cafe, locking it shut and you walk towards the bus station to catch your ride back home.
A while later, you’re laying in your bed under the covers and decide to scroll through your socials for a while before falling asleep. You open Instagram and check your notifications, your eyes zooming on the purple circle around the profile picture of the cat cafe.
You click on it and a smile creeps on your face when you see Wonwoo’s picture on one of the Instagram stories, tagging Wonwoo’s account and welcoming him to the team. Curiosity gets the better of you and you click on the tag, leading you to his personal account. You frown a bit when you notice it’s private, but you don’t hesitate to send him a following request.
You hope he won’t think you’re a creep or something. I mean, he can definitely recognize you from your profile picture, right?
To your luck, a notification pops up on the top part of your screen and you squeal when you realize that Wonwoo has followed you back.
You waste zero time to check the pictures he has posted over the years and you quickly understand that he’s not the type to show off his face. But the one thing that’s prominent in his account is the astronomical amount of breathtaking pictures from the places he has visited throughout his life. You break into a giggling fit when you click on a post with his cat and you read a few comments from his friends, lovingly making fun of his ‘cat dad’ tendencies. Your heart swells when you see more photos of him playing with a black cat and petting him until said cat slaps his hands away.
Now you know why Tofu liked him at first sight.
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One week later.
Today is an off day for you and you plan to sleep until midday. But your boss has other plans.
You want to cuss at everything around you within a radius of ten kilometers when your phone rings and you rub your eyes to forcefully wake yourself up and answer the call.
“Good morning, Boss.” 
“Good morning, Y/N. I’m sorry for calling you so early, but you need to come as soon as you can at the cafe.”
“Why is that? I mean, it’s my day off today.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yoona just called me from the hospital, she had an accident yesterday.”
“What?!” You nearly jump out of the bed. “Is she okay?!”
“She’s out of harm's way, but her arm has suffered a fracture and she won’t be able to work for the next two months.”
“Oh my God….”
“We really need you here, Y/N.”
“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.” You say and end the call. 
You grumble and get out of the bed, your feet taking you to the bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Once you’re out, you go back to the bedroom and pick a hoodie with jeans to put on.
You walk out of your apartment and fasten your jacket around you, jogging to the bus station to catch your ride to work.
Twenty minutes later, you arrive at the cafe and you’re welcomed with a literal mess in the barista bench and a yelling Chan and a frustrated Wonwoo. 
“This isn’t how you’re supposed to turn it!”
“And what do you know about coffee machines?!”
“All corks are manufactured to fasten towards a certain direction!.”
“You’re just a photographer, not an engineer!”
“And you’re just a waiter, not a barista!”
“Whoa, whoa! Both of you, get away from the machines!” You yell at them and shoo them away to get to work. “Jesus, what the hell did you do here?!”
“We were just trying to make the orders!” Chan defends himself.
“You could have just told the customers that coffee won’t be served until the barista is here!”
“That’s what I suggested as well, but he said ‘he knows better’.” Wonwoo shrugs.
“Yeah, that’s because I’ve been here longer than you!” The shorter man retorts.
“Sometimes, it’s productive to listen to other people’s ideas, they might help you in ways you could never imagine.” You sigh as your hands fiddle with the machine and check the orders one by one.
“Finally, someone with common sense.” Wonwoo points towards you. “At least some people know how to think in here.” He walks away and picks up his camera again, resuming his initial tasks.
“I can’t believe you took his side!” Chan complains to you.
“I didn’t take his side, our opinions just happened to collide!” 
“Oh my God, you’re so into him, it actually sickens me.” The man fake gags.
“Can you stop bringing that up?! What if he listens?!” You whip your head around and glare at your friend.
“So you admit it! You have a crush on him!”
“Yeah I do. You can get your ‘detective of the year’ honorary badge now.” You groan.
“I- Ugh, whatever.”
“Look, Chan, I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” 
 Chan lets out a deep breath to calm down as he picks up the serving disk.
“I know, Y/N. I hope the remaining apple pie in the box will lighten up your mood and fill in your empty stomach. It’s freshly baked.” 
“......You idiot.”
“I love you too, work wife.” He flashes you a grin and runs back to the customers.
You take a peek in the pastry box and the aroma of cinnamon and apples hits your nostrils like the early morning sunlight enters a cold room.
Your fingers don’t hesitate to dip in the box and pick a bite from the dessert, putting it in your mouth to eat it. You hum in approval when the sweet warmth envelopes your taste buds, giving you a much needed energy boost.
You return to your work at hand, completely unaware of Wonwoo’s eyes watching you like a hawk, an unreadable expression overcoming his features. The tuxedo cat jumping on the shelf next to his head snaps him out of it, letting out a cranky meow at him.
“What is it, Taro?” He raises his hand to pet her fur.
Taro meows back as she flops down on the surface to stretch herself out for more pets.
“Jealous of not giving you enough attention?”
She meows even louder this time, as if she’s saying yes.
“I’m sorry, your Highness.” Wonwoo ruffles her belly. “A man has to work to get by.”
Taro narrows her eyes, as if she’s doubting his words.
“Okay fine, I was looking at her! What are you gonna do about it?”
The cat raises her front paws in the air and Wonwoo lets out an airy laugh, positioning his camera towards the long-haired feline to capture her in a few poses.
“Hope those pictures will be enough for you to stop blackmailing me.”
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Two weeks later.
God, these double shifts are fucking killing me, you mentally groan while sitting in one of the tables next to the cat trees. But it’s nice working early, since you get to come here and chill with the cats before opening time.
One of the resident cats jumps next to you, rubbing himself on your thigh.
“Good morning to you too, Dino Nugget. Did you sleep well?”
The orange cat jumps in your lap and sits in a loaf position without even asking you.
“Wow sir, it’s not even free real estate.” You laugh and run your hand over his fur.
He turns around and starts pawing at your hand, as if it’s a toy. He then opens his jaw to nibble at your finger, his teeth grazing your skin a bit harsher than usual.
“Ow, dude! That’s my hand, not your chew toy!” You yelp lightly.
You hear the clicking sound of a camera not far away from you and you snap your head to the source of the sound, your eyes falling on Wonwoo.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-”
“No no, it’s okay! You were just doing your job.” You wave your hand.
“Do you….mind if I sit with you?” He asks sheepishly.
“Of course not! I was about to ask you, actually.” You smile.
Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you, smiling towards the orange cat.
“You seem to have loosened up a bit.”
“Yeah. But moments like those are also nice.” He says. “It can get….hectic sometimes and I don’t always deal well with pressure.”
“That’s exactly why the kitties are here! They have this magic ability to take away the negativity from you.” 
“Including this one?” He points towards Dino Nugget.
“Yeah. But he will try to bite you, no matter what.”
“Well, he’s an orange cat. What did you expect?” Wonwoo deadpans and you look at him with a shocked expression.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-”
You cut him off with a laughter loud enough to scare Dino Nugget off your lap.
“You’re so serious about cats, it’s actually funny!” You admit between laughs.
“Of course I’m serious about them! And you aren’t?”
“I am! I just didn’t expect that random orange cat fact, y’know.”
“Oh, okay.” Wonwoo purses his lips.
Silence befalls the outer space.
“Great, now I made things awkward again.” He sighs in defeat.
“No, you didn’t! It was just…. well…”
“Awkward behaviour.”
“.....Yeah, actually.”
“God, Seokmin is so fucking right.” Wonwoo curses at himself.
“Who’s Seokmin?”
“One of my best friends and the bane of my existence. He has been pestering me about my lack of social skills and stuff like that.”
“I would say he sounds almost like Chan.”
“Seokmin doesn’t buy me pastries every day.”
“Did you just emit jealousy, Wonwoo?”
“No, I’m just stating the facts. I’m 100% sure he will show up today with another box of fresh desserts.”
“You can always get a bite from them.” You nudge his shoulder.
“I don’t think he would like that.”
“Why are you so negative about Chan?”
“I’m not negative! He’s just… you guys seem really close with each other, that’s all.”
“Wonwoo, we’re just friends! The work husband and wife thing is just for funsies!” You reassure him and his features soften almost immediately.
“If you say so.”
“Wonwoo, I’m being serious.”
“I know. I don’t mean to call you a liar or something.”
“Okay…” You trail off with an uncertain look written over your face.
Another moment of silence passes until Wonwoo speaks up again.
“How are you handling the double shifts?”
“Terribly. My sleep schedule has been fucked up and I don’t think I’ll be able to fix it any time soon.” You slouch in your seat.
“Any updates about the recruitment?”
“Absolutely nothing so far. Unless a miracle happens.” You scoff.
“Can you teach me how to make coffee then?” Wonwoo asks you and your eyes shoot up in surprise.
“I- Uhm, yeah I can, but why?”
“I want to help you.”
“With making coffee?!”
“Yes. What’s so weird about it?” 
“N-Nothing! I just didn’t expect you to offer to help me.”
“The truth is that I haven’t been the best towards you, while you’ve been very warm and welcoming towards me since day one.” He admits while averting your gaze.
“But giving you extra work outside of your expertise is outrageous!”
“But I’m the one asking for it!” 
A loud chirping sound comes from behind you and you notice Henry shooting a death glare at you for disrupting his beauty sleep.
“Go to sleep, Henry.” You roll your eyes at the tabby cat and the feline yawns before stretching his hind legs.
“So? What do you think?” Wonwoo asks you again.
You look at him and you can see a fire being ignited in his eyes, as if he really wants to do that.
You check your watch and look between Wonwoo and the inner space of the cafe, solidifying your decision.
“Get up.” You pat his back.
“Does that mean yes?”
“It means that you need to pay a lot of attention and catch up quickly. We have less than an hour and a half until the cafe opens.” You walk into the cafe and towards the barista counter.
Wonwoo goes towards the cat trees, smiling brightly towards the felines.
“Watch me learn how to brew coffee and win her over, okay?”
Two sharp knocks on the window wall snap him back to reality and he looks at you furiously waving at him to come inside.
Wonwoo jogs back in the cafe, joining you behind the counter.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You put your hands on your waist.
“Uh, to watch you make coffee?”
“Rule number one: Never enter the barista area without lint-rolling your clothes first.” You point towards a shelf away from the counter, where a couple of lint rollers are.
“When did you even clean yourself up?” Wonwoo asks while running the roller over his hoodie and jeans.
“When you were talking to the cats.” You deadpan.
“Okay, my clothes are clean. Now what?”
“Rule number two: Always wear a barista apron while working behind your counter. We hang them right next to the window wall.”
He picks one of the aprons and puts the top strap around his neck, tying the lower one around his waist. You don’t miss the double loop and you wonder how slim his waist must be and how you hands would-
“What is rule number three?” His question cuts your train of thoughts and you try to get yourself together.
“Wash your hands thoroughly, of course.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The first steps of Wonwoo’s barista adventures go rather smoothly - he realizes he’s good at memorizing the various coffee blends. Handling the machine isn’t that much difficult, but it’s definitely not as easy as assembling his camera.
His eyes never leave your skilled hands, effortlessly maneuvering a glass under the machine, clicking the proper buttons to make a serve of espresso. 
“That looked so easy, but something tells me it won’t be as easy as I think it is.” Wonwoo laughs awkwardly.
“It’s actually not very hard. You just have to be careful with the amount of coffee you will put in the portafilter.” 
“Can I try now?”
“Don’t be impatient. You need to throw away the used shot and then purge the machine with water first.” You explain with a smile.
“Hm, okay. I think I can do that.” 
He takes out the portafilter and disposes of the used espresso shot. He cleans the portafilter separately while running the machine with only water. 
“Good job! It was smart to clean the portafilter during the machine run.” 
“Thought it would save me time.”
“And you thought well. This can be really useful during rush hour.”
“What’s next?”
“You dry the filter and fill it in with the desired amount of espresso. But remember, it needs to be even!”
“Got that.” He grabs the bag of ground coffee and takes a few spoonfuls of the blend and puts it in the clean filter, tapping it on the counter to flatten the surface. 
“Use the tamper to tamp it down and make it compact enough.” You remind him of the next step.
He wordlessly follows your tip and does exactly as you told him, locking the portafilter in the machine. He grabs a demitasse glass and places it under the machine and presses the button, watching the dark brown liquid flow into the cup.
“Congratulations, you just made your first cup of espresso!” You give him tiny claps and he smiles sheepishly. 
“Moment of truth.” He breathes out and hands you over the glass to taste the coffee he made. You take a sip and allow your taste buds to absorb the rich flavor.
“Not bad for the first time!” You hum in satisfaction.
“Thank God, I thought I would poison you or something.” Wonwoo lets out a heavy breath.
“Why are you so critical of yourself?”
“I have been classified as a kitchen hazard.”
“Well, this isn’t a kitchen, as you can see.” 
“But still-”
“No buts. You asked to learn how to make coffee and you have to accept that you’re going to make mistakes in the process.”
“I know, but it’s kinda scary.” 
“It was scary for you to work among so many people the first week, but you didn’t give up, did you?” You cross your arms over your chest.
“I am doing it for the cats, Y/N.”
“If that’s what makes your boat float, then who am I to disagree?” You laugh and clean the machine all over again.
The words die down in Wonwoo’s throat and he tries to find something to occupy himself with.
“You don’t have to do anything else around here now.” You tell him.
“Oh. Was that all?” His voice comes out almost disappointed.
“Only for now. It’s not like we have a lot of time left until customers start coming in and I would hate to throw you in the den of wolves right away. Besides, your friends seem to miss you already.” You turn your head to the window wall and Wonwoo follows suit, breaking out in laughter when he sees Dino Nugget scratching against the window.
“Oh my God, not him again.”
“Hey, don’t be mean to him!”
“Y/N, he literally bit you an hour ago.”
“He’s just an orange cat - or so you said. He’s also Chan’s fave.”
“Well too bad I already have a fave.” Wonwoo unties his apron and hangs it.
“Ooh, who is it?” You ask with curiosity.
“That’s my secret.”
“Okay mister secretive.” You scoff lightly.
Secretive. What a great word to describe me, Wonwoo thinks with a tight-lipped smile that fights to become a grin when he returns to the cafe cats, sitting down on one of the tables to fiddle with his camera.
He skims through the picture he has taken so far, stopping at the one where Dino Nugget is in your lap and you’re petting him with a loving smile on his face.
As if on cue, Tofu tip toes her way next to Wonwoo and puts her paw over his hand, raising her body on her hind legs.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” 
The feline purrs loudly and rubs her head on the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
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Hours later, at Joshua’s place.
“So you’re telling me that Wonwoo is smitten with Y/N?”
“Yeah! You have to trust me on this, Shua, I just know it!” Chan repeatedly taps his soju glass on the table.
“Okay, but why are you so pressed about it?”
“Because none of them are doing anything about it! And I hate mutual pining with a burning passion!”
“Sounds like you’re scared of losing your work wife to me.” Joshua smirks in his glass.
“I’m not scared! I just want to look out for her!”
“As her work husband?”
“And her bestie, duh!” 
“You’re so dramatic about this.”
“And you’re so nonchalant about this!”
“It’s their business, not mine, Chan!”
“And since when do you not care about gossip, Joshua?” The younger man raises his eyebrow.
“Don’t you see I’m making an effort to stay gossip-free?” Joshua whines in defeat. 
“And it’s failing miserably.”
The older man sighs and drinks a bit of his soju. “Yeah, it fucking did.”
“What, you know things I don’t?”
“Let’s just say that running the HR of an establishment grants you perks that someone like you doesn’t have.”
“Just tell me already! I wasn’t there today, come on!”
“Wonwoo and Y/N were both seen behind the barista counter today.”
“Okay….Maybe he was taking pics of her during the deed? Y’know, for promotion purposes?”
“You don’t understand - Y/N was showing him how to operate the coffee machine. He even managed to make a few batches of espresso.”
Chan chokes on alcohol and starts coughing loudly, smacking his chest.
“Whoa, whoa, breathe!” Joshua offers him a glass of water. “I didn’t mean to kill you!”
“Well - gah - I certainly felt like dying!” He gasps for breath. “But - How? When did things escalate so fast?!”
“From what I’ve heard, Wonwoo wanted to help Y/N until someone applies for the position and Boss agreed to it, as long as he’s under Y/N’s supervision.”
“Fuck this, I can help her too!”
“Bitch you don’t even know which way the corks turn!” Joshua laughs.
“Fuck you too, Hong!”
“You know, this could work in their favor. And yours, eventually.”
“How?”
“They will get to spend more time together and grow closer, you idiot!”
“Well yeah, but that also depends on whether one of the two will fuck up the process or not!” Chan retorts.
“Just….have some faith, okay?” Joshua tries to convince him.
“If you say so, I guess.”
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Two months later.
“Did you have a secret glow up or something?” Seokmin scans Wonwoo from the top to the bottom.
“You can just admit you were checking me out.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“As long as the right person isn’t checking you out, my eyes don’t matter, friend.”
“Oh my God, just say you want to talk about Y/N.”
“Yes I fucking do, because she’s clearly the reason you’ve changed!” Seokmin slams his hands on the table. “And for the better!”
“I don’t feel like I’ve undergone any drastic changes, though.” 
“That’s because you’re extremely harsh on yourself and refuse to see the truth!”
“And the truth is?”
Seokmin grunts in disappointment. “That you are head over heels for Y/N, you idiot.”
“And what if I am? I mean, she hasn’t really shown any real interest towards me.” Wonwoo shrugs.
“Dude, she has literally taken you under her wing and taught you how to make coffee! While she was swamped with work!”
“I just wanted to help her, she was doing double shifts for two weeks straight!”
“And I’m more than sure that she likes you even more because of that!”
“I was just trying to be nice, just like that.”
“Wonwoo, nobody is nice just like that. Everyone has their own agendas.” Seokmin smirks. “It all boils down to the benefits these agendas hold. And yours is going to benefit a lot of people.”
“Let’s say you’re right then. Why didn’t she just confess? She’s like, the definition of an extrovert.”
“Not everyone has the guts or lack of tact to just go to their crush and confess their feelings to them, you know.” 
“How can you be so sure that Y/N has a crush on me?”
“I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer them truthfully.” Seokmin puts his palms together.
“Yes, dear therapist.” Wonwoo crosses his arms in front of his chest and mocks his friend.
“Does she know your coffee order?”
“Yeah, but she knows the coffee order of most regulars, it’s her job.”
“Fair point, but does she make coffee for you during work and accompany it with a snack?”
Wonwoo racks his brain for instances that match Seokmin’s question and to his surprise, he recalls a lot of them.
“You don’t even have to say anything, I can see the answer written all over your face.”
“Is that even enough to count as proof?”
“I’m not done yet.” Seokmin takes a sip of water to clear his throat. “Moving on to my next question - does she ask you about your day, how did you sleep and stuff like that?”
“Yeah, but that’s basic human decency.”
“Ugh, whatever. Have you ever complimented her appearance? Like, ‘Hey, that color looks very pretty on you!’ or something like that?”
“.....No.” Wonwoo replies with an awkward expression.
Seokmin rolls his eyes and drags his palms over his face dramatically.
“Why are you acting like this?! I’m not ignoring her on purpose!”
“Then why aren’t you doing anything?!”
“How can I do something when she’s so pretty and popular and a fucking sunshine and I’m….this?” Wonwoo vaguely gestures at himself.
Seokmin sighs audibly and rests his elbows on the table. “Can you tell me what’s really going on? Because I am not buying the shit you’ve said so far.”
Wonwoo’s expression turns bitter the moment Seokmin calls him out.
“There’s a contender?”
“Yeah, that fucking dipshit called Chan. He never misses a chance to show off that stupid smile of his to everyone and call himself Y/N’s ‘work husband’. He has the audacity to buy her snacks whenever their shifts overlap!” 
“Oh my God.” Seokmin bursts out in laughter.
“I’m sharing my problems with you and you’re laughing?”
“I am laughing because you’re green with jealousy!”
“I- I’m not jealous! I’m just stating the facts here! Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Wonwoo, it’s just you and me here, you can be honest.”
“I- Fine, I am jealous of that short bitch and the relationship he has with Y/N.”
“And that’s fine! But you also need to keep in mind that Y/N probably knows this Chan guy longer than she knows you, so it’s kind of natural to have a closer relationship with him.”
“You are not helping right now, Seok.”
Silence befalls the two friends as they pick on the leftovers of their food, contemplating their discussion.
“Something just popped into my head.” Seokmin speaks up again.
“It better not be another brain fart of yours.” Wonwoo grimaces.
“You should go to work tomorrow with your motorbike!”
“Okay. And?” 
“And….You should dress up a tad bit fancier for once.”
“Why should I even-”
“Shhhhhhh, just… Just do as I say, okay? Now zip it, I wasn’t finished yet.” Seokmin shushes him. “Let me think…. a white button-up and those dark blue wide leg jeans you have?”
“What about those?”
“You’re wearing them tomorrow. No questions asked.”
“Seokmin, it’s the middle of November, I’m gonna freeze to death.”
“You’re gonna wear a heavy jacket on top, you idiot. Besides, it won’t be that cold tomorrow.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Ever heard of weather forecasts?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not the one you want to fuck, let’s be real here.” Seokmin smirks and Wonwoo throws a fried potato at him. 
“I swear to God, if I end up making a fool of myself or catching a cold, you won’t hear from me ever again.” 
“Cool, does that mean I get to adopt Salem after your death?”
“Keep your grimy hands off my cat, bitch.”
“I will, because you’ll be alive and Y/N will be in your arms within the span of….twenty four hours. Maybe less, if you play your cards right.” Seokmin winks.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look scary when you have something specific in mind?”
“You can just admit you like it when I look scary because it makes me even sexier.”
“You’re fucking gross.”
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Wonwoo wakes up at 7:30 sharp, as always. But today is different - today is the day he finally confesses to you. Blame Seokmin’s idea, blame Chan’s behavior towards you, blame his own cowardice - whatever the reason is, Wonwoo is dead set on achieving his goal today.
He opens his closet and skims through his clothes until he finds the ones Seokmin specifically told him to wear.
He’s worried he might catch a cold with just a white button down and jeans, but there’s always his trusty fuzzy jacket - the cold never passes through that and it definitely won’t pass now, no matter what he’s wearing underneath.
The thought of wearing this particular outfit to work in order to impress you makes him feel stupid and giddy at the same time, as if he’s the nerdy highschooler in love with the pretty girl of the class. 
“How damn cliché.” He chuckles to himself and takes out the clothes to hang them in front of the closet. He goes to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick refreshment. It only takes him five minutes to wash his hair and body, wrapping a towel around his waist. He takes a quick look at himself in the mirror and nods in satisfaction. 
The gym has definitely paid off, he thinks and grabs the hair dryer to dry his hair. Once he’s done, he chooses to lightly run his fingers through them, not wanting to disrupt the curly form.
He returns to the bedroom to put on his clothes, humming in approval when he sees his reflection in the full body mirror. He spritzes his favorite perfume all over him and wears his horn-rimmed glasses to complete the look and wears his jacket on top to keep himself warm. 
He really doesn’t want to admit it, but Seokmin might be right on the money this time.
He’s about to leave when his eyes fall on the spare helmet he keeps in the corner of his closet and decides to take it with him - in case the plan works out, he wants to keep you safe while you’re riding with him on his bike.
He just hopes you aren’t afraid of motorbikes.
Salem walks in the bedroom and meows at Wonwoo to get his attention.
“Hi buddy. How do I look?”
The cat purrs loudly as he rubs himself on Wonwoo’s jeans.
“Thanks for the approval. I hope Y/N approves too.”
Salem meows again and paws on his dad’s leg.
“I’ll see you later, pal. Hopefully with some pretty company.”
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“So it’s official?” 
“Unfortunately, yes. Yoona has completed her rehab, but she has decided to move out of Seoul.” Your boss notifies you.
“I see…” You think and mixed feelings wash over you. You’re sad that Yoona is leaving so soon, but that also means you’ll get to spend even more time with Wonwoo behind the barista counter.
“But on the bright side, we managed to get a new employee!”
“W-What? When did that happen?”
“Just yesterday! I asked them if they could start soon and they will be here tomorrow morning.” Your boss grins widely. “Can I count on you to show them the ropes?”
“Oh, um, yeah, of course!” You form a fake smile.
“Great! You’ll get an extra this month for this, do not worry about that.”
“I appreciate it, Boss.” 
The lady walks away and your shoulders slouch in defeat, your dreams of watching Wonwoo’s forearms operate the coffee machine.
“A penny for your thoughts, wife?” Chan comes up to the counter.
“A penny might be too little for the amount of thoughts I have, Chan.”
“You don’t seem excited today.”
“Boss just told me that Yoona is leaving and we already have a replacement for her.” You frown.
“I know you’re sad you probably won’t see Yoona again, but at least you won’t have to work overtime again!” Chan tries to lift your mood.
“That’s not the only problem, Chan.”
“What is it then- Oh. Oh.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Well, I mean…It’s not like you won’t see him ever again.”
“But it’s not the same!” 
“Oh my God, can you just confess already?! I’m tired of this rom-com!” Chan whines.
“You know what?” Your mouth falls open. “I might do it today.”
“Finally! But why is your mouth hanging like that?”
You point towards the door and Wonwoo who walks inside, looking like the male lead of a k-drama.
“Can you please close your mouth? A fly could enter and you could choke.” He snickers and you slap his arm.
“Good morning!” Wonwoo greets the two of you with a bright smile.
“Good morning Wonwoo! You seem to be in a good mood today.”
“Yeah, you could say that. By the way, I bought you some honey cupcakes.” He puts the pastry box on the counter and he walks next to you to wear his apron.
“What?! They told me they had run out today!” Chan is flabbergasted.
“Well, you weren’t lucky enough to catch the fresh batch, Channie.” Wonwoo smirks and the younger man grimaces and almost slams the water glasses on his disk.
“Who are you and what have you done to the Wonwoo I know?” You narrow your eyes at him.
“I am him. Just a bit elevated.” He puffs out his chest ever so slightly.
“Does the elevation come with a brand new motorbike?”
“Oh that? I already had it, but it was under repair for a good chunk of time.”
“But now you can ride it again, right?”
“Of course! Otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.”
“It looks really cool by the way.” 
“The motorbike?”
“Everything, actually.”
“Everything?” He tilts his head sideways.
You clear your throat. “By the way, Boss told me we’re getting a new barista tomorrow.” 
“Oh, I see.” He replies with a monotonous voice. “So no more sessions?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But I’m sure you probably miss your camera.”
“It’s not like I wasn’t touching it at all. Besides, working with you is really fun.”
“Not anymore, since it’s the last day today.”
“Well then, we should make the most of it, right?” He looks at you with a swirling mix of warmth and seduction.
“B-Be careful with the cinnamon, you don’t want to overdo it.” You stammer over your words, turning your head away.
“Yes ma’am.” Wonwoo chuckles, not missing the light flush over your cheeks as he resumes his task.
As if your brains are connected to the same thinking bubble, they both repeat the same phrase over and over again.
This is going smoother than cream.
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“Is it legal to do this?” Wonwoo asks with uncertainty.
“Relax, we’re not gonna commit crimes. We can just say we stayed behind to clean up! Not that anyone will care that we made two cups of coffee.” You reassure him.
“But the machine isn’t on. How are you going to make coffee without it?”
You flash a warm smile. “This is exactly why I wanted it to be the two of us.”
You search under the counter for a few seconds and you pull out a black box that has been tightly sealed. You open it carefully and take out a coffee pot made of copper, a sealed bag of coffee blend and a mini gas heater.
“What is all this?” Wonwoo’s curiosity is piqued.
“This is something I learned during my vacation in Greece. I will show you how to make traditional Greek coffee.”
Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he finds himself walking behind the counter and right next to you.
You open the sealed bag and the rich aroma quickly spreads in the air, satisfied hums echoing in the silent cafe.
“You get it now, don’t you?”
“It smells so good.”
“Wait until you actually taste it.” You giggle. 
“Judging from the tools, it must be hard to make it.”
“You’re not entirely wrong.” You fill the coffee pot with cold water. “It requires a lot of technique and “meraki”, as the locals usually call it.”
“What does it mean?”
“It’s the love and passion poured in the coffee brewing process. Even if it’s served as a product to a customer, it’s always created with fine motions and the hope of conveying said effort to the customer through a cup of Greek coffee.”
“This sounds more like a confession of love to me.” Wonwoo comments and you are happy the lighting is dim enough to hide the creeping blush on your cheeks.
“Well, that’s one way to put it.” You set the coffee pot on the table and take out two small porcelain cups from the box.
“That’s really pretty.”
“Thanks. I got them as a souvenir from a local shop, along with the briki.”
“The what?”
“That’s the greek word for the coffee pot! They use this specific one because it’s the best at storing the heat in its walls and allowing the coffee to roast slowly.”
“I stand corrected. This is a ritual of love, not just a confession.” He chuckles at your excitement.
That’s why I’m doing it, you four-eyed hot bastard! You mentally scream but keep your smiley facade on.
“Why did you get only two of these?” He keeps asking you questions.
“The old lady at the shop had made only two of those.” You explain. “But she did think I was buying it for my boyfriend and myself.” You end your sentence with an awkward laugh.
“I think that’s adorable, Y/N.” He rests his hand on his palm, almost 
“It would be, if I had a real boyfriend.”
“Well, you can always share a cup with your work husband.”
You raise your eyebrow. “Are you jealous, Wonwoo?”
“Me? No, not at all.” He brushes it off. “I just mentioned Chan because you’re really close to him.”
“Hmm, if you say so.” You shrug.
A beat of awkward silence passes and Wonwoo attempts to shift the mood to his favor.
“Can you guide me? Making the coffee, I mean.” He almost stutters.
“O-Oh, of course I can!” You slide behind him and watch him tighten his apron around his slender waist. Since when did he have such a slender waist?!
He picks up a teaspoon and puts four spoonfuls in the water, turning on the heat.
“The heat should be medium to low. Stir it only at the beginning and then let it heat through.”
He gives the coffee a few stirs to evenly spread the blend in the water, until it starts heating up.
“Be careful not to stir the coffee all the time, while it is roasting. Give a little bit more love and attention to create the right amount of kaimaki.” You give him gentle directions and he follows them to the last detail.
“What is kaimaki?” 
“It’s the creamy foam that forms on top of the coffee after brewing it.”
“It’s dark brown because of the blend?”
“Exactly. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” You give him a sly smile.
“I have a great teacher.” He reciprocates the smile and your heart skips a bit for the umpteenth time today.
Watching him brew such a difficult type of coffee with his sleeves rolled up and his deft hands carefully looking at the kaimaki makes the butterflies in your stomach dance like a hurricane.
Everything feels so intimate - from the cafe itself to the set of porcelain cups you bought as a memento from Greece, the words of the old lady who thought you bought them for a lover echoing in your head once again.
“I am turning the gas off now.” Wonwoo announces and you nod affirmatively. He does as he said and picks up the briki, but he accidentally touches the side of it and almost burns his hand.
“Fuck!”
“Wonwoo!” You gasp and immediately grasp his hands, knocking down the coffee and spilling it over the counter. “Are your hands okay?!”
“I’m okay, but-”
“Oh shit.” You curse and grab a bunch of paper towels to wipe the spilled coffee before it seeps into the wood.
He notices the coffee reaching up to the base of the cups and he picks them up, putting them in the sink to wash them. He washes and dries them thoroughly, followed by the copper coffee pot.
Hurried movements and a curse of strings are heard through the glass wall, the eyes of multiple cats staring at the two of you trying to clean up the mess you made.
After a few minutes, the counter looks as good as new, but both of you look frustrated and even more tired than before.
“Well, this was an ordeal.” You let out a huff as you throw the wasted paper towels in the bin and hang your apron next to the others.
“Y/N, I am really sorry.” Wonwoo sulks, not daring to look you in the eyes.
“Wonu, it’s okay! It was just an accident, accidents happen all the time here.” You try to make him feel better.
“But you were looking forward to this-”
“Wonwoo.” You stop him from completing his sentence. “It’s okay. I am not mad at you.” You gingerly hold his face with your hands, the rate of your heart reaching Mach speed because of the heat on his skin.
You realize you’re too close for comfort and retract your hands, scared you might have overstepped his boundaries. 
“Don’t.”
Wonwoo holds your wrists with his hands and gently places them on his chest. He can feel your fingertips almost trembling, the tension skyrocketing. 
“Wonu, I don’t understand-”
He gently holds the side of your neck and kisses you with the desire he was holding for the past two months. He lets go of his uncertainty and embraces his feelings for you, expressing them through this kiss.
It feels like you’re in a fever dream, every fiber of your existence is standing on the edge of inferno and you don’t want it to stop. Yet his mouth feels like an oasis - and you won’t let anything separate you from it.
You let out a whine when Wonwoo breaks the kiss, but you shudder when he rips his glasses off his face and lifts you up to put you on top of the counter.
“You have no idea how long I wanted to feel your touch on me, Y/N.” He rasps. “You’ve been plaguing my thoughts ever since I met you and I just couldn’t-”
You cut him off by pulling the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on him again, seizing control this time. You wrap your legs around his waist and jerk his body forward, colliding with your chest.
Your hands are deeply rooted in his permed locks, raking your nails on his scalp. He’s no better than you, his palms glued to your thighs.
“I’ve been feeling the exact same way, Wonu.” You moan against his mouth.
“God, please don’t stop calling me that.” 
“I had no intention of stopping, Wonu.”
He breaks the kiss again and pushes you on your back, planting his hands on each side of your head. 
“Please tell me you want this.” He begs you. “I want, need to touch you, take care of you, fucking worship you.” 
“Do it. Please do it, Wonu, I need you so bad.” 
He lets out a shaky breath and unbuttons the first three buttons of his shirt and bunches up your sweater to reveal the hem of your jeans and unbutton it with the same dexterity he uses his camera. He pulls them down and lets the fabric pool in front of his feet, his hands caressing your naked legs.
“Pretty.” He fiddles with the lacey details of your panties.
“Me or my underwear?” 
“Both.” 
“Smooth. But as much as I’d love you to sweet talk, I think you should do other things with your mouth.”
“Your wish is my command, sunshine.” 
Wonwoo puts your legs over his shoulders and tenderly traces his lips on your inner thighs, giving you a glance before sliding your panties to the side.
He gives your clit a quick peck and glides his tongue through your folds, all the way down to your entrance. And repeats the motion, again and again, speeding up with each drag of his wet muscle.
You drag your nails on the mahogany counter and bite your bottom lip to suppress your moans, but his mouth is being so kind and loving to your pussy that it makes you want to scream his name until the windows crash in tiny pieces from the volume of your voice.
He stops to take a breather, a glossy film coating his lips. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
“Never thought the shy photographer slash barista would be cursing after eating pussy like a God.” You laugh breathlessly.
“I can do much more, if you let me.” He suggests with a gaze full of desire, lips parted again and ready to engulf your clit again.
“I will, but not here.” You put your hand in his hair to stop him. “I don’t want to risk being seen by bypassing people.”
“I don’t know about people, but there are a bunch of cats staring from the glass wall.” Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you gasp when you turn your head towards the window and you see thirteen pairs of glowing cat eyes staring at the two of you.
“I love them but they are fucking scaring me right now, can we please get out of here?” You ask him.
“My place or yours?” Wonwoo picks up your jeans and gives them to you to put them on.
“Mine is a twenty-minute ride with the bus from here.” You say.
“My place it is, then.” Wonwoo grins as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Hope you aren’t scared of motorbikes.”
“Would you laugh if I said I’ve been thinking of being your backpack princess?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I brought an extra helmet just in case you wanted to be my backpack princess?”
“Who are you and what have you done to the cute and super shy Wonwoo?” You shoot him a playful glare.
“He’s still here. He just decided to act according to his desires and feelings.”
“I would like you to pass him my earnest thanks.”
“He accepts them with pleasure. Ready to go?” He offers you his hand.
“Yes sir.” You giggle and button your jeans, lacing your hand with his, as he guides you out of the cafe.
You make sure you turn off the lights and lock the doors before Wonwoo hands you over the extra helmet, checking up on whether you fastened it good enough. As soon as you settle on the bike behind him, he turns on the engine and grabs your arms, putting them around his waist, as if he’s telling you to hold on tight. You let out a squeal when he speeds away from the cafe, but the helmet around your head mutes your voice. Even though it’s your first time riding on a bike, you’re not scared at all. If anything, you find it very fun and kind of liberating.
Perhaps it’s the fact that Wonwoo reciprocated your feelings after two months of mutual pining.
You don’t even realize how fast the time passes when Wonwoo taps your hands to let go of him and get off the bike.
“W-We’re here already?” You ask dumbfounded as you take off the helmet.
“Baby, I wasn’t even speeding up.” He chuckles as he turns off the engine of the bike, taking off his own helmet. “But it’s for the better, I suppose.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it means you’re looking forward to what will happen within that house.” He smirks in your face and you grab his hand, pulling him towards the entrance.
“You’re so eager.” He’s trying to fish out his keys from his bag.
“I wonder whose fault is that.” You tease him.
“I intend to make it up to you, sweetheart.” He reassures you and finds the keys after a bit of searching, sliding them in the keyhole to unlock the door.
As soon as both of you are inside his house, you pin him on the door and kiss him hungrily, your hands sliding off your coat first and his jacket second, aiming for his buttoned shirt next.
“Bedroom, please.” Wonwoo breaks the kiss and you nod in agreement. He lifts you up in his arms, his arms under your thighs keeping you safe. 
You’re certain he’s gonna pin you down on the bed, but you’re proven wrong when he pins you on the nearest bedroom wall, grinding his clothed bulge right on your crotch.
“Didn’t peg you for the needy type.” You grip his shoulders to hold onto him tighter.
“How can I not be needy when I have the girl of my dreams right where I want her?” He groans and lets down your legs, hands flying to the button of your jeans. “Can I?”
“Fuck yes, please throw them away if you can.” You breathe heavily.
He eagerly unbuttons your jeans and drags them down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He then unbuttons his own jeans, dropping them down to his ankles with his boxers and kicking them away. He’s just one thrust away from entering you, but his mind goes blank.
“Wonwoo? What’s wrong?”
“I- Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.” He curses under his breath.
“It’s okay. I am clean and on the pill, you can go raw.” You reassure him.
“Y/N, I’m serious.”
“I’m serious too! Are you clean?” 
“Yeah, I got tested two weeks ago and haven’t slept with someone for God knows how long.” He blurts out, cheeks flushed a cute pink.
“You’re so cute.” You stifle a laugh.
“You and your pussy are cuter than me, darling.” He laughs and hooks his forearms under your thighs to pry them open and keep them locked closed to your chest. The wall is cold against your back, but the rest of your body feels on fire.
You let out a whiny moan when Wonwoo starts by pushing the tip of his cock, taking his time to ease himself inside you and not hurt you. When he finally manages to fit his shaft in your hole, he throws his head back and his mouth falls open, deep moans vibrating from his chest.
“You’re- Oh god, Wonwoo, it feels so full.” You dig your nails in his shoulder blades, bunching up the dress shirt.
“Fuuuuck, I know.” He groans and pulls his hips away until only his tip is inside you, pushing back with a fluid thrust. A gasp escapes your lips when the thrust makes your body jerk up against the wall.
“Ah- Please do that again.” You beg, giving him your best pleading eyes.
“Shit, with pleasure.” He licks his bottom lip and thrusts inside you the same way, his eyes glued on your face to study your expressions.
He gets the green light when you nod in agreement and repeats the same thrusting pattern, full-bodied yet slow thrusts that rub your molten walls deliciously.
None of you are able to form coherent sentences, you only express yourselves through wanton moans. You feel your skin getting sticky with sweat and your orgasm starting to build up dangerously close to the climax.
“Are you close, sunshine?” He asks you between pants and you nod furiously.
“Hold on tight.” He instructs you and you claw on him like a rescued cat as he lifts you from the wall and walks over to the bed, gently placing you on your back on the mattress. 
“W-Wonu, please, I need to cum!” You hiccup and try to wrap your legs around his waist.
“I know, baby, I know.” He puts one knee on the mattress and angles your hips upwards to hit it deeper. He bends his torso down to touch your chest, his lips hovering over yours as his breath mingles with yours.
“Wanna cum together, sunshine?”
“Yes, yes, please!” 
“Where do you want me to cum?”
“Inside, fuck, do it inside!”
Wonwoo gasps loudly and loses his balance, crumbling on you at the same time his orgasm crashes upon him. His back shudders while his cock paints your walls white and your lips are busy kissing and biting his neck to muffle your own orgasmic noises. Your walls clench around his cock and you milk him dry until he has nothing else to give, breathing against his neck rapidly.
Both of you take some time and remain still, your breaths slowly regaining their normal rhythms. You can feel your body complaining, legs growing limp and your torso being crushed by Wonwoo’s weight.
“Wonu, you’re heavy…”
“Fuck, sorry.” He gently lifts himself off you and his cock slips out of your pussy, the mixture of your cum and his nearly spilling on the sheets. He’s fast enough to catch it with his fingers and push it back inside you, enjoying the way you shudder for him/
“Wonu!”
“I couldn’t help it, sunshine. Not when you look so pretty.” He sucks his fingers clean. “And taste so damn good.”
“Can you just…clean me up?”
“You didn’t even have to tell me.” 
He picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the tub as he lets the water from the tap run warm.
“Do you mind if I fall asleep in the process?” You mumble tiredly.
“Not at all, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.” He presses a kiss on your temple.
“Thank you, Wonu.”
You end up falling asleep halfway through the bath, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind. The lovesick grin on his face doesn’t falter until he’s done drying your hair and putting you in a pair of clean comfy clothes - his clothes.
As soon as you’re under the bedsheets, you cling onto him in your sleep, chest rising and falling peacefully in his arms.
Wonwoo can’t believe this is real, even if he can touch your face and hug you closer to his body. 
There is one thing coursing through his mind before drifting off to sleep - Seokmin was right after all.
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Your deep slumber is disturbed by the ringtone of your phone and you grumble in your sleep to find the strength and get up to search for your phone. You nearly fall down on your knees when you try to stand up, grabbing the edge of the bed at the last minute to stabilize yourself.
“Nngh……Baby? What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks with a scratchy voice, in a similar state as you.
“Someone is calling me and I don’t know where the hell my phone is!” You curse out loud as you keep searching under the pile of clothes.
Your phone stops ringing and you plop down on the floor dramatically. 
“Y/N, it was just a phone call.” Wonwoo tries to reassure you as he gets out of bed.
“But what if it was something important?”
“Then whoever it was, they will probably call again.”
Suddenly, it hits you.
“Wonwoo, what time is it?” You ask him with fear in your eyes.
“I don’t know, let me check real quick.” He walks back to his nightstand and opens the screen of his phone, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing from his mouth.
“Wonwoo?”
“I don’t want you to panic, but it’s 10AM.” He deadpans.
“Fuck, I knew it! We’re fucking late to work!” You spring up on your feet and pick up your clothes, making a beeline for the bathroom.
You splash water over your face and almost squeal when you notice the vibrant purple marks on your neck and collarbones, mortified at the thought of someone seeing them.
“Baby, are you good there?” Wonwoo yells from the bedroom.
“No! I need a fucking turtleneck!” You yell back and stomp your way back to the bedroom.
“Okay but why?” He peeks his head from the closet and takes a better look at your torso. “Yeah, forget I asked.” He purses his lips and picks a cream colored turtleneck, giving it to you.
“God, I love you so much.” You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately put it on, running back to the bathroom. The scent of cedar and peaches gives you a hard time to focus on making your hair look presentable, but you resist the urge to duck your nose under the soft fabric.
Wonwoo does a double take on himself and decides to go with a black turtleneck, his eyes shying away from the marks you left on him last night. However, part of him feels very smug about them, knowing he’s gonna be walking in the cafe with your marks of claim all over his body.
“Come on, stop dwindling, we’re gonna be even more late!” You appear in front of him again and pull on his sleeve repeatedly.
“Oh my God, stop pulling me!” He laughs at your desperation and follows you to the living room, picking up his coat from yesterday.
About half an hour after riding on Wonwoo’s motorbike and some annoying traffic, you both make it safely into the cafe. You’re welcomed by a very frustrated Chan and the new barista intern, struggling with the coffee machine.
“And here I thought you actually ditched work today.” He gives you a smile full of irony.
“I’m really sorry, Chan, I slept through my alarm clock. I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You defend yourself with a lie while fastening your apron to get to work.
“Whatever you say.” He sighs. “Just…get to work, I’m so fucking done with this monstrosity.”
You quickly greet the new intern with a warm smile and turn your back on the two men to focus on the training at hand.
Wonwoo begins to put his camera together, checking his equipment. He can feel Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on him.
“For how long are you going to keep burning holes in my back?” The older man asks.
“Until you admit that you spent the night with Y/N.” Chan crosses his arms in front of his chest.
Wonwoo puts his camera down and straightens his back, now towering over the guy.
“Yeah, I did. Want me to tell you how exactly we spent our night?” 
“No need, I was able to put two and two together when I came here and cleaned up the entire place.” Chan pinches the bridge of his nose.
“My patience ran thin and so did hers, I guess you already know how things went down.” Wonwoo smirks.
“Well it was about fucking time, dude.” Chan pats Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You were blueballing the poor girl for two months now and I was starting to feel that way as well.” 
Chan goes to the outer space of the cafe, leaving Wonwoo utterly stunned. The younger man gets a few orders from the early customers and makes a beeline for the window seats of the cats, bypassing the table Joshua is sitting on.
“I am so sorry, darlings. I hope none of you were traumatized from whatever vulgarities you witnessed last night.” He pets them one by one, cooing at them as if they were his own kids.
“Why are you trying to console the cats?” The older man asks.
“If I were to tell you, you’d need consolation as well.” 
“Do I smell work gossip?”
“More like work porn.”
Joshua puts his hand over his mouth like a gossip girl, his eyes shining like those of an imp.
“Don’t tell me-”
“Yeah, they did.”
“Damn, I gotta give it to your intuition.”
“How about giving me a fucking break already?!” Chan whispers in frustration.
“What, you saw cum on the floor or something?” Joshua jokes, but the waiter’s expression is stone-cold.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Fucking try me, Shua.”
He turns his head around and watches you and Wonwoo giggling together, his face turning back to his friend.
“At least your work wife is happy now.”
Chan smiles gently as he leans against the wall.
“That she definitely is.”
2K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
Text
silent treatment
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words: 900
warnings: drug dealer rafe, established relationship, arguing but its very fluffy throughout and never actually serious
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl
“rafey, are you almost done?” you ask, causing him to turn his head to look at you for the first time since you both entered the party and parted ways for rafe to do business.
“come here, baby.” rafe beckons you closer, so you cross the line of people waiting and take a seat on the couch next to rafe. “what's wrong?”
“nothing's wrong, i just miss you.” you pout, lacing your fingers through rafes. “i know you're selling right now but i thought we would be able to hang out tonight.”
rafe looks at the line of people waiting, then down at his stash. “im almost sold out, yeah? think you can wait ten more minutes?”
“can i sit here?” you ask, and when rafe nods you curl up against his side. he has to shake your hand loose as the next person walks up, buying some drugs that rafe would never in his life let you touch, but had no problem selling to other people.
you busy yourself with playing with a loose strand on rafes shorts as the packets in front of him dwindle down to only one small baggie of white powder left. rafe pockets it, shooing the rest of the people waiting away, telling them to come find him at the next party.
just when rafe finishes counting the money and you expect to get up and actually enjoy the party with your boyfriend, barry takes a seat on the armchair across from you.
“how was tonight?” he asks.
“sold it all, kept a baggie for myself.” rafe splits the money and hands most of it to barry for getting him the supply, pocketing the rest for himself.
“im getting a new shipment in tuesday-” you stop listening as they start to talk business again, linking your hand with rafes and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. you begin to stroke his arm with your other hand, craving any sort of attention from him.
“baby, stop, you're distracting me.” rafe says, pulling his hand out of your grip.
“sorry.” you whisper, looking between barry and rafe, wondering how much longer they're going to take.
“can i sit on your lap?” you ask, knowing rafe doesn't care about others seeing your pda so he shouldn't mind, he's let you sit on his lap in the past, he's even pulled you onto it himself.
rafe sighs, rubbing his forehead before sitting back, pulling you onto his knee so you're purched on the edge.
you groan, knowing that this isn't what you asked for as you turn to frown at rafe.
“baby, why are you being so clingy tonight?” rafe asks, pulling you by your waist into him so your side is pressed against his chest.
“im not.” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
“yeah, you definitely are. won't even let me talk to barry for ten minutes without getting all whiney.” rafe says, a small smile on his face, but it doesn't placate you, it just annoys you.
you stand up, moving away from rafe and leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wants with barry.
--
“baby, you didn't talk to me all night, please don't give me the silent treatment again today too.” rafe says, attempting to press a kiss to your shoulder, but you just move away to continue making pancakes. rafe keeps his eyes on you as you move about the kitchen.
you plate your pancakes, leaving the rest for rafe to get himself if he wants them and walk into the dining room. you're glad for the music you put on to drown out the silence at rafe sits across the table with his own plate.
you eat without looking up at him, somehow able to keep yourself quiet.
“so you're giving me the silent treatment but still made enough pancakes for me?” rafe asks.
you simply shrug, getting up to finish your pancakes in the kitchen.
“here, let me do the dishes.” rafe comes barging into the kitchen, interrupting you from beginning to clean. you simply shrug and walk away, not even giving him a thank you. you listen to him start to clean up, snickering silently at his grumblings to himself before heading upstairs to get changed.
“what are your plans for today?” rafe asks when you reemerge downstairs, wearing a simple outfit of leggings and a t-shirt. you give rafe a pointed look, one to reinforce the fact that you are not speaking to him before walking away.
rafe leaves you alone for a few hours when he is in the home gym working out. you peak through the glass doors a few times to admire his sweat sheened muscles, but don't let him catch you and go back to scrolling on your phone on the couch when he starts to clean up.
“im gonna go shower.” rafe calls as he passes through the living room. “care to join me?”
“no.” you call back.
you hear rafe stop in his tracks, halting and turning back to face you. “you just talked to me.”
“that doesn't cou-AHHH!” you shout as rafe jumps over the couch, dropping his body over yours as he presses kisses to your face, your phone long forgotten as it falls to the floor.
“im still mad at you, fuck off.” you say, but giggle the entire time, unable to resist his kisses.
“baby, you can tell me to fuck off or that you're mad all you want, just never ever give me the silent treatment again, i was going crazy.” rafe presses your lips together in a kiss and you give in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“it sounds like you're the clingy one now.” you grin at him.
“absolutely.” rafe nods in agreement.
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