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#i like to make jean suffer >:)
bizarreandjarring · 2 years
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they were there all night
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lesmisscraper · 18 days
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Valjean and Cosette's official introduction to the Petit-Picpus convent.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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shorlinesorrows · 2 months
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just got the time to start the sunshine court and I'm Vibrating out of my skin
#i did not think it was possible for me to like a character this much three chapters into a book#i might actually end up liking Jean better than Neil which is saying a Lot#something about a character whose route to survival had to be giving in and staying small instead of fighting back or running away#something about a character who has been taught to lock up their emotions for years or suffer the consequences#something about a character who is resigned to what happens to them because that's the only way they can survive in their environment#I am desperately hoping that Jean learns how to be ANGRY outwardly without permission.#I need that boy to be able to Rage out loud and do it MESSY#because I'm not convinced he's going to be able to really smile until he does#Also I'm really appreciating both the Renee and Thea content we've desperately needed more of both of them and they showed up so quick#privately hoping both stay present for a while but tbh i'm just excited for where this is headed#Anyways I also just fixated on Jean Moreau then discovered that (SPOILERS) he's 19???? Almost the same age as me??? hate riko hate riko HAT#anyway sorry riko enjoyers i know he's Complicated but I never liked him in the first place#and this book is making me look forward to his death even more than I did when I first read aftg. So.#listen i know he has Issues. I know Ichirou killing him without a second thought is probably the cruelest way that he personally can die#I also want him dead and gone. Those statements can and should coexist imho.#the sunshine court#jean moreau#really looking forward to finding out more about Jeremy too#this is gonna be a wild ride#jeremy knox#all for the game#love how nora's writing and characters can grab me in a chokehold and refuse to let me go thank you nora for the food
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palms-upturned · 2 years
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#meg talks#ok so here’s my issue right.#well i have a billion issues rn and this one is rlly a non-issue but let’s distract ourselves for a moment sksnsnxnx#anyway. my issue is i like harrykim but also im so picky.#ig partly bc so much of it has them remain cops which is like. ok fair that’s more realistic#but dammit they should suffer for it SMSNSBDK#anyway there’s that but also like… and this is where it’s all me being subjective LOL#i think it’s cute seeing them be all happy and affectionate n all that#but also i have this specific itch that i never rlly know how to scratch#like how jean says that nobody gets married in revachol anymore#the idea of harry and kim existing in this more ambiguous space#where between kim’s reservations and harry’s problems and issues™️#and both of them feeling generally unsure about the future (both their own and that of the world)#and (ideally… maybe…) leaving the rcm and having to totally redefine themselves and how they see/interact w the world#the idea of them being like totally lost and not necessarily optimistic#but sticking together nonetheless#and maybe they’ll never rlly be able to define what they are or want to be to one another#and there might be certain gaps that never close#but the fact that they’re still sticking w one another despite all that is all the more proof that they love each other#like does that make any sense??!!?! i have no idea KSSHDKDH but god i wish i had time to sit and draw and write The Content
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fouralignments · 2 years
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Is the X-Men Film series equivalent of this:
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p0rchc0ll4ps3 · 2 months
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One thing about me is that I can make a really awful character be sooooo empathizable with. I am so skilled at writing guys who suck so so so bad that you want to run over with your car until you find out how much they're hurting and suffering in there 😏 love it when a guy sucks bc the world sucks for him
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neverendingford · 3 months
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m-ayo-o · 5 months
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 ✦ ˚ pink skirt . no underwear ★⋆. ࿐࿔
𐙚 afab reader x shy alt bf Choso Kamo
* ✦ .  nsfw cw: fingering  ˚ .   * ✦ ˚ .   
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Choso is starting to think you're doing it on purpose.
He's losing his mind.
If he sees you bend over like that one more time, he swears he's gonna have to--
"Fuck-"
He mutters and looks away.
His fantasies of pushing the skimpy material up to feel your creamy pussy in his hand riddles his mind until he goes pink in the cheeks. He has to play with the ring hooked through his bottom lip to distract himself. But he knows that you'll find out what he's thinking eventually. You always do.
He sighs and feels his boner strapped tight in his jeans that's rubbing with every movement of his body. If he so much as breathes he can feel the heavy pulse of his cock. It's beating hard for you and he can't stop it.
"Baby, you okay?"
He tries to adjust himself under your gaze and he props himself up, attempting to hide the massive bulge.
"Mm," he nods stiffly, but you can see he's suffering.
Your eyes drift over his body in those black jeans, his black tank, admiring the tattoos adorned on his rippling muscles. His silvery studded necklace gets your attention, then his lip and ear piercings and the faded, violet shadows around his deep eyes.
He stares back at you; your tits nearly spilling from your tiny white vest, the pleated pastel mini skirt that just hides your ass, and the way you look at him with such wide eyed adoration.
Fuck, how did a guy like him end up with someone like you.
"Come here, please."
Choso has got a bit better about telling you when he needs you.
"Here, yeah," he nods and watches you mount his lap. Your skirt fans over his thighs and he can't stop imagining your pussy underneath.
"What is it, baby?" You coo and twist his spiky locks in your fingers, that are flicking down over his neck.
You never thought someone who looked like him could be so... clueless.
He seemed quite inexperienced when you met him, yet he insisted he'd had a few sexual partners before. It's not as if he's innocent. Oh no, far from it. You know, with the way he stares at you, there are all sorts of perverted thoughts in his head. He's just a little shy.
"I, uh..." the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart race. He's so endearing.
You lower yourself onto him, sitting on his lap and feeling the bulge of his cock through his hard jeans.
"Baby, tell me," your delicate fingers trace the ink up his neck to where it stops at his jaw, "tell me what you need."
"W-want-" he stutters and sighs.
You smile sweetly, encouraging him.
"I- I want to touch you."
"Oh, baby, good boy," you place a chaste kiss on his cheekbone.
"Where, hm?" You press, stroking his swollen chest.
"I..." he finds the courage to snake a hand up the curve of your back. The rings on his fingers feel cool where he settles around your neck, stroking you softly.
He pulls you close and gives you a nervous look before quietly admitting-
"I want to finger you."
You smile and giggle, knowing that this big, scary looking man could barely tell you that.
You give his lips a peck, then take his breath away when your tongue slides over his. He's so stunned he almost forgets to kiss you back, until he regains an inch of composure and starts licking and sucking at you.
"You're so sweet, Choso~" you smile over his lips before pulling away and dragging his hand down south. Your tiny hand encircles his inked wrist, barely fitting around the muscle of his forearm, and his fingers start twitching when you guide him under your skirt.
"Mm- warm-" he groans and slides his fingers over your bare pussy, parting you slowly, rubbing up and down. Despite his shy nature, he has got very good at touching you.
His hand parts your legs wider and his eyes dip up and down your clothed body. You look so pretty like this. His dark eyes focus on your face and you feel his fingertips edge into your entrance. Your expression starts to contort and your mouth hangs open. His breathing gets a bit shaky now, his eyes trained on your parted lips.
He sinks inside. Two fingers; ringed, thick and deep.
You shudder and his free hand caresses your back, steadying you on his lap as he presses his palm all the way to your pelvis.
"B-big-"
There's a pleased spark in his dull eyes and he bites his lip, feeling your silky, wet walls around him. He spreads his digits, opening you gently with your mouth gaping wider in tandem.
"Oh-"
You let out a little noise that encourages him to dip and curl his fingers. He finds his favourite spot inside you that makes his angelic girlfriend look like some kind of pornstar.
He massages you there with his fingertips, barely moving, feeling you grinding down on his knuckles.
"M-more-"
"Baby- I, I-"
"More, please-"
You should know better.
"I can't take it when you beg for me like that."
He holds your thigh gently and drags his fingers out, pulling them from under your skirt and oggling the slick juice all over his hand. Just from a few gentle movements you get like this. For him.
You watch lust completely take over and he sinks his fingers into his mouth, sucking every last drop of you off and leaving his digits coated in saliva.
He brings them back under your skirt and plunges inside you, hard rings nudging your entrance with every rough pump.
And he watches you scream.
Every time he slams his fingers into you his palm slaps your clit and you get sweet, jolting pleasure through your abdomen. You feel tense and hot and his thumb suddenly slips over your bundle of nerves, circling you quickly and making you cum hard and fast.
"Ch-cho - Choso-"
You pant for breath but his fingers are unrelenting.
"Again."
His voice sounds rough, deep and full of confidence.
It makes you quiver and shake and he grabs you more firmly, seeing your eyes go wide with shock when he picks you up.
He plants you on the fluffy carpet and kneels between your legs, pushing up your skirt to reveal his wet dream.
His fantasy.
"I love you"
You don't know if he's talking to you or your pussy but you really don't care.
He stares at all the gushing, clear liquid that's leaked all over your folds, over your thighs, dripping from one hole down to the other.
He sinks down and has a smile on his face, shoving his fingers back inside and toying with your clit with his spare hand.
He loves playing with you like this, adoring the look on your face every time you cum. He wants you to do it again and again, making you call his name, spilling more of your essence, all for him. He licks it off his fingers and hand like some thirsty beast and doesn't show any signs of slowing down.
But you knew what you agreed to. When Choso asks to touch you it usually is for a very long time.
He has to take you over the edge numerous times, obsessing over the feeling of you cumming and the way your face looks. And when your orgasms start to fade and you're just a wet, leaking mess with a hole spread wide from his greedy fingers, you have to take a few deep breaths and tell him to calm down.
He gets the message and slowly draws his fingers out one final time, tugging your hole with his thumbs and seeing you gape open. He bows his head down, sinking into your stomach where he presses soft kisses.
You play with his hair gently and he coos into your soft skin, telling you how much he loves you and needs you till you feel his hot tears running over your tummy.
You comfort him and tell him he did so well, until he dries his eyes and gives you a smile, bringing you up for a hug.
"W-won't get so carried away- next time- promise."
You hope he does. In fact, you're counting on it.
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choso | m.list
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jmmoreaux · 2 months
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like every aftg stan, tsc destroyed me and i can't stop thinking about it but there's definitely one thing that makes me go feral and it's when riko is about to hurt Neil and Jean grabs the tv as if he can take Neil out of riko's reach and then begs for Andrew to run to save him... like???? The way neil-kevin-jean protect each other??? The way all of them suffered in a different way but somehow understand each other so well???
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prettygiri222 · 10 months
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Stress Relief
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summary: Armin gives the best head
Armin x Black Reader SMUT
you were beyond frustrated at this point, work pissed you off today. it was originally your day off and you were gonna spend it with your boyfriend Armin, but your boss called you in last minute because someone couldn’t make their shift. then they spent the whole day up your ass complaining about the littlest things and even getting you for being late? you almost put your two weeks in when your coworker spilt your much-needed iced coffee, she didn’t even offer to buy you a new one! you got home with tears in your eyes when your lovely boyfriend offered to help you relieve some stress.
“Arminnn” you whined out. you were at the point of tears. you and Armin have been at it for almost an hour and you haven’t had the mind-blowing orgasm you craved. you were bouncy so desperately on Armin’s dick, like a rabbit in heat. 
you should’ve been embarrassed at the state you were in: your edges were long sweated off after a long day at work, your makeup was running from your sweat and tears, your blowout was starting to frizz up, you didn’t even have time fully take off your clothes so your jeans were caught on one leg, your panty was pulled to the size and your tits were suffering from the constraints of your bra.
“c-calm down babe” Armin placed his hands on your hips to slow you down. Armin was struggling underneath you, what was once pleasure was becoming torture. unlike you, Armin had already came 2 times and was nearing his third. he was overstimulated and he was trying to hold out to help you but he was nearing his limits.
your eyes were squeezed trying to focus on building the growing feel inside your stomach missing out on the pornographic image in front of you. Armin was flushed a deep shade of pink, his lips a deep shade of red as he bit down on them trying to slow the growing feeling of his climax. his pants were around his ankles and his shirt was pulled up past his chest in your haste to get him inside you as soon as possible. 
“fuck Armin, right there!” you moaned out as you finally got him to reach the deepest part you so desperately craved. the sight of you so bouncy so desperately on his cock brought Armin to his climax faster than he wanted.
“wait babe, p-please… i can’t, i can’t” Armin whined out as you grinded into him. you finally opened your eyes to see the mess underneath you. Armin hips were jerking into you deeply despite his pleas and you knew he was close, his voice always rose an octave higher during his orgasms.
“not yet,” you were so close you could almost taste it. Armin however, couldn’t take it anymore. he was growing weak underneath you, becoming a mess of babbles and whines.
“c-cumming!” Armin went cross-eyed at how intense his orgasm took over his body, spasming on the couch. beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. you however, were still going at it, chasing your climax. you looked so beautiful above him but it was starting to hurt. Armin could barely feel his dick anymore.
“I’m close ‘rin, s-so close, fuck-” you orgasmed was denied when a strong grip picked you off of your boyfriend's flushed cock. “Armin!” you cried out frustrated. that was the closest you got to an orgasm during the whole day and your boyfriend just denied you.
“you’re so fuck-” “relax, I’ll take care of you angel,” Armin said as he put a finger to your lips stopping your rant. Armin sat you back on the couch and took his place on the floor in front of you. after taking off his own shirt he finally took off your jeans and underwear before taking off your top and releasing your tits.
he took you in a slow deep kiss while he played with your nipples, twisting and pulling at them. “Armin,” you moaned out.
“i know, i know, i’ll make it better. i promise,” Armin said as he kissed down your neck leaving hickeys in his path. he slowly made his way down to your clit drawing out whines that were like music to his ears. you were already squirming underneath him and he barely did anything. “my poor baby needs this badly?” he mockingly questioned, already knowing the answer.
you could only nod afraid your voice would give out. you held on to Armin’s hair for dear life, “oh god! please don’t stop Armin, please!”
“mhm,” Armin groaned from in between your legs. one of his hands was used to hold up your leg and the other was playing with your tits. “yough tath ahmahzin” Armin didn’t bother to remove his mouth from your clit to speak. his lips latched onto your clit licking and sucking on it before he started to get messy.
you would think Armin received the most pleasure when he ate you ate the way he was moaning into you. he was spitting and slobbering into your soaking wet heat. he removed his hands from your tit and inserted them into your cunt when you lost it.
“min! f-fuck minnie, ‘m close” you could barely form a sentence Armin was fingering the sense out of you. you held his head in between your legs as you started to grind into him hard. you whined when you felt the growing feeling begin to disappear as you tensed up.
“relax.” Armin gave your thigh a quick slap before holding it up. the sight beneath you would’ve been enough to make you cum any other day. Armin looked up at you with glazed-over eyes, his bangs were stuck to his forehead and his fingers going in and out of you as he ate you out with haste.
“give it to my baby,” Armin’s other hand rubbed your thigh trying to coax your orgasm out of you. you started to squeeze around his fingers, biting your lips to stop yourself from bucking into his mouth. Armin knew you were close so he kept up his ministrations.
“min, ‘min, ‘min!” you chanted out in a trance. your vision turned white as your climax finally hit. no noise left your mouth as it was stuck in an O shape. your body was trembling now and the only thing you could feel was Armin's wet tongue going in and out of you. 
“min?” you moaned out as you came back to your senses. you tried closing your legs but his hands had a firm grip on them to stop them from closing. he kept nipping at your overstimulated clit holding you in place as you tried pulling away.
“my pretty girl, i think you can give me a couple more.”
Safe to say you totally forgot about your day at work🤭
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knxfesck · 1 year
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sending hatred and malice towards artists that terminally draw keith kogane in skinny jeans that man wears carhartts and only got stuck in spandex and/or motorcycle pants out of circumstance. Ok???
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earthtooz · 1 year
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fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3
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suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.
the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.
amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.
“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.
regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them. 
“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.
his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”
you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him. 
so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special. 
he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.
“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.
suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?” 
“suck it up, i guess.”
“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”
“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.
this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker. 
“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal. 
“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.
suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”
you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”
the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.” 
“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”
“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.
“and watch me study? do you really want that?”
“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”
“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”
“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”
“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile. 
the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”
“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”
“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.
“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection. 
you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”
“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does  a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?” 
“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.
and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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alrightieaphroditie · 24 days
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wipe my tears away | j.m.
*:·゚✧ series masterlist | previous part!
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pairing *:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·゚6.6k  warnings *:·゚18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones!  an *:·゚this is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format!  check the series masterlist for the series tags!
synopsis *:·゚ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps. 
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The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life. 
But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection. 
Because it was a different story, now. 
Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it. 
Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face. 
In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today. 
Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning. 
But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.
 And so, that’s what you did. 
Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely. 
You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling. 
Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread. 
The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway. 
“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.
It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up. 
Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body. 
The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows. 
“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.
This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response. 
When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils. 
And the occasional sniffle. 
You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about. 
“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body. 
Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he���d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go. 
“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously. 
“Joel…”
“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see. 
“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking. 
“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response. 
“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream. 
Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace. 
You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps. 
You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it. 
He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material. 
You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it. 
Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever. 
And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him. 
He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice. 
Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared. 
Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him. 
His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin. 
He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours. 
Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven. 
“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body. 
The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh. 
“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg. 
“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close. 
Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed. 
His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you. 
“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream. 
“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core. 
The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out. 
His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down. 
His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you. 
“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open. 
He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?” 
A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock. 
Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger. 
“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm. 
Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers. 
“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.” 
His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested. 
Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body. 
Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up. 
Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even. 
“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours. 
Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together. 
“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure. 
“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless. 
“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure. 
Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.” 
This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you. 
Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit. 
You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent. 
With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.  
“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours. 
Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse. 
“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed. 
“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh. 
A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house. 
Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly. 
Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit. 
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm. 
“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body. 
Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach. 
Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself. 
It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?” 
A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men. 
He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open. 
He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up. 
“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up. 
After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom. 
There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence. 
“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours. 
“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.” 
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rafesaddiction · 8 months
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It's still not cheating when he's your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2)
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see here for part 1 and here for part 2.5
Summary: You just want to make a living, but Rafe Cameron keeps showing up and disturbing you while you're working. He's so damn annoying – and hot.
Concept: enemies, Who did this to you?
Warnings: mdni! – smut, rough sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), aggression, violence, manhandling, choking, cursing, name calling (reader is called a whore), mentions of assault (not by rafe), mean!rafe, also dark!rafe and protective!rafe
Word count: 4.7k
tagging those who asked for a part 2 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @niyahwhoreworld @luvagirlsworld @elizzzzz143 @ghostlycrystobalove @fabienne6656 @noodle81937 @sadexact @marauderssmut @daydreamerblues I hope you'll enjoy this.
“I knew that ass looked familiar!”
You frowned as you heard that dark voice behind you, but you didn't turn around. You pretended not to have heard anything and went on scrubbing the wall with the sponge. You were kinda good at that – not at the scrubbing, but at ignoring catcalls. You had suffered like a lot in the last 30 minutes or so alone. At least half of the dozen cars that had passed behind you on the street had honked at you while you had been trying to clean some graffiti off the supposedly historical wall of this supposedly historical building. They wouldn't let you use any hard chemicals (not that you could've afforded them) to get rid off the paint because they would destroy the precious stone, or whatever. So cleaning the wall took ages. Sadly you were not paid by the hour, but by results alone. The graffiti was actually some insulting – and very true – statement about kooks. You thought that the handwriting looked somewhat familiar. And you almost suspected your boyfriend’s best friend to be the unknown author. You could almost hear him say that he did this on purpose just to create jobs, which was absolutely stupid, and therefore could've been true.
“Hey!” that voice again, and you rolled your eyes, unseen by the one addressing you. You still didn’t turn around to the car that was driving by slowly. And now it seemed to have stopped. You heard a car door open, but you ignored that too as you bent down to soak the sponge in the bucket of water, which was almost black by now from the paint and the dirt from the wall.
It was still early morning, not too hot, but cleaning this damn wall was hard work, and a light film of sweat had gathered on your forehead. You wiped it away with the back of your hand, before stretching your arms high above your head to start scrubbing again. The foamy water ran along your bare arms. You were wearing a cropped top and jeans shorts. You should’ve worn gloves to protect the skin on your hands from the cleanser, you thought, when you heard that voice again. So close, it made you freeze and your breath hitched.
“Did no one ever tell you it’s impolite not to answer when spoken to?”
A shiver you tried to ignore ran down your spine as you felt his presence so very close behind you. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, when you smelled his scent; his dark, expensive cologne filling your lungs, your senses, and as if your body remembered, light goosebumps covered your skin – and you felt that throbbing between your legs.
“Or do you think I'm just a daydream?”
The arrogant tone in his voice drove you mad. You opened your eyes, your jaw clenched, but you continued staring at the wall.
Whereas before you had only felt his presence, you could now feel his touch. He was standing directly behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he leaned closer, his face next to yours, his lips moved close to your ear, while one of his hands found the exposed skin on your stomach. His long fingers slowly travelled under your top, shoving it up.
“I promise I'm real,” he whispered into your ear.
You shuddered, his hand cupping the underside of your breast, and you hated how your body reacted, how your traitorous nipples perked up, how your stupid legs got wobbly. You involuntarily let out a moan as his lips found your skin, touching that very sensitive spot under your ear.
You couldn't have this, not here on a public street in broad daylight, and not with him, not with Rafe fucking Cameron.
You spun around, saw a smug grin on his ridiculously handsome face and shoved the wet sponge right into his arrogant face – and you again wished that you'd have been able to afford more aggressive chemicals.
“What the fuck!” He exclaimed, moved a step back, rubbing his face, blinking, and looking at you both angry and in confusion, his mouth slightly open, his head tilted to the side, as if he expected you to explain your behavior to him when his behavior had been anything than appropriate or normal!
You looked at him with a little triumphant grin on your lips. But your small victory didn't last long.
His hand shot to your throat, gripping it so hard, your back was forcefully pushed against the wall, making you wince. Your hands wrapped around his arm, trying to fight him off, already struggling to breathe. And on top of that, his sudden proximity overwhelmed all your senses as his body was caging you in, making you feel his power over you. The look on Rafe's face was menacing; his brows furrowed, his eyes darkened, he seemed ready to kill.
Rafe moved so close that you felt his breath on your face, brushing against your skin. You could do nothing but gaze at him as you struggled to get out of his grip, in vain.
But suddenly Rafe's tense features changed. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed and he tilted your head to the side, inspecting your face, to be precise inspecting the left side of your face. And you knew what he was looking at.
“Who did this to you?”
He was looking at the bruise on your left cheek. Not just cheek, the black and blue mark covered almost half your face, from your eye to your jaw.
Rafe let go off your throat, placing both his palms on either side of your head on the wall. He was in fact caging you in now.
“No one,” you snapped, scowling at him. You tried to cover the bruise with your hair, but Rafe didn't allow it. He grabbed your wrist, held it, made you flinch at his strength. He would probably leave his own mark there.
“Bullshit,” he growled. “Tell me. Who did this? Your boyfriend?”
You detected something strange in his voice, but you couldn't quite place it, it sounded almost like he was being cautious, which was ridiculous. Rafe Cameron was never cautious or hesitant with his words. And despite that somewhat strange tone in his voice, it was commanding and he seemed to believe that he was entitled to get an explanation from you.
“No!” You frowned at him and managed to pull your hand free, so you could use both your hands to shove him away – or try to. He didn't move an inch while your hands lay on his broad chest. You could feel the hard muscles underneath his shirt. You could feel his rapid heartbeat. His chest rising and falling as he stared at you intensely.
“Like you would care anyway…” Your voice soft and unsteady.
You expected him to say something disregarding like that he didn't give a fuck and that would end this conversation – this tense situation. But he didn't. Rafe looked at you with a stern expression and when he spoke, there wasn't even a hint of mockery in his voice.
“Who did this to you?” He asked again.
There was something so earnest in his tone that you just looked at him, stunned, for a second. You felt your heart beat so violently, it felt like he must have heard it too.
You bit your lips and averted your gaze.
But Rafe wouldn't let you. His fingers under your chin, guided your face, made you look at him. And he gazed at you. His blue eyes so dark, so intense, they were penetrating you. And you shuddered.
“My landlord,” you answered his question, unable to resist his demanding tone any longer.
Rafe didn't say anything, but looked at you, waiting for you to continue.
You felt a lump in your throat and your voice sounded weak when you spoke more.
“I couldn't pay the rent and he ‘suggested' another form of payment. But I –” The fresh memory made your voice trail off and you felt tears gathering in your eyes.
“Did you?” His voice was low.
“No!” You glared at him, some of that familiar anger returning and making your voice stronger. “I'm not a whore!”
Rafe's words from the other night were still clear in your mind and fueled your rage anew. You tensed up and suddenly realized that your hands were clawing at his shirt. You kept them there and you looked Rafe straight into the eyes when you continued, “I told him to shove it and kicked him in the balls.”
Was that a hint of a smirk on Rafe's lips?
“But when I tried to get away, he gripped my hair, yanked me about and smacked my face against the doorframe. I wriggled out of his grip and ran. End of story.”
You gave Rafe's chest a shove and this time he moved a little back. So you ducked under his arm and walked off.
But you didn't get far.
His hand caught your wrist. He spun you around and you slumped against his chest, gasping in surprise before his lips covered yours.
You reacted without thinking. Your mouth opened, your lips moved against his. It was pure impulse, so strong you couldn't resist. You felt his strong hand grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you, kissed you deeply.
Waves and waves of intense electric tension were rushing through your body. For a moment you felt like you could let your guard down and just melt into his touch, melt against his body.
But you couldn't let that happen. This was never going to happen. The harshness of reality woke you up.
You pulled back and smacked his cheek with your hand, so hard, so loud, your palm burned.
Rafe looked at you, his lips parted – so dangerously close to yours…
“I could give you the money –”
His features were so soft, and the way he looked at you, it made your chest tighten and you felt your tears returning.
“Fuck you! I told you I’m no whore! I'm no one's whore! Not his and certainly not YOURS!” You screamed those words right at his face.
And Rafe just stood there. He did not attempt to grab you again, to pull you close, to kiss you, to hold you...
He just stood there and looked at you. Then his mouth closed and he nodded and his lips moved again, but you couldn't hear what he was saying, as if he was talking to himself. And then he just turned around and walked away, got into his jeep and drove off.
And you exhaled, and all tension fell from your body. You were shivering and no longer held those tears back. You cried out and a passing driver looked at you in confusion and you yelled after him to fuck off and kicked at the water bucket – and regretted it a second later. You would have to get fresh water and then start working again. You had wasted more than enough time already. Because of Rafe fucking Cameron.
***
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A few days later.
“What you doing here?”
Fuck, was he everywhere? You looked up from your phone and saw Rafe Cameron on his dirt bike, just having taken off his helmet, smoothing down his hair with his free hand – and grinning at you.
You glared at him and focused on your phone again, leaning with your back against the shop window. You tried your best to ignore him, hoping that he would for once get the hint.
It had been only three days since your last encounter; the bruise was still showing on your face, the cheap make up you had wasn't enough to cover it completely, but you had arranged your hair in a way that hid most of it – at least you hoped it did.
“Waiting for clients?” Rafe’s voice sounded closer. Obviously he hadn’t taken the hint.
You didn't look up, but you could see and feel his shadow on you. He had gotten off his bike and walked over to you.
“Fuck off, asshole. I have no time for your bullshit.”
You looked up from your phone to glare at him.
He stood directly in front of you, had stopped about two feet away. It annoyed you how much your body already reacted to his presence. Your skin buzzing without his hands even touching it.
Rafe's hand moved to his head, combing through his hair.
“What are you doing here?” You hoped you sounded as annoyed as you were.
“Buying a new 8-iron.”
You knitted your eyebrows.
“So what are you doing here? All dressed up – like that,” Rafe asked, pointing at your outfit.
You had to admit it was an unusual look for you. You were wearing a white blouse, all buttoned up, and a black pencil skirt reaching to your knees, the fabric stiff and making your thighs itch. It wasn't yours. You had to borrow that skirt from your neighbor.
~~~
When you walked over to your neighbor's door that morning, you looked around nervously, making sure not to accidentally run into your landlord. You wouldn't want to repeat that kind of encounter, especially not today when you had a job interview for a position at a stationery shop on main street. One of those fancy-ass shops where kook parents bought school supplies for their spoiled offspring. With school starting in a few weeks, they had a new position to fill. Though it was just temporary, it was good money, and maybe even a chance for something permanent.
“Try this on, I think it might fit.” Your neighbor held out a black skirt from her closet, handing it to you.
You were standing in her small bedroom, trying not to step on the stuff scattered on the floor. You pulled down your shorts and put on the skirt and frowned at the image of the young woman in the mirror. You did not like it at all, but the skirt looked like something someone working at a kook stationery shop would wear, so it would do.
You thanked your neighbor and were about to leave when you remembered that it had been days since you had last seen your landlord, which was unusual, since he was always lurking around, sitting by the empty pool, shouting at kids or harassing his female tenants. Your neighbor always knew the latest gossip, so you just asked her about his whereabouts.
“Haven't you heard?”
“Heard what?” You frowned at her in confusion.
“He got run over by a car three days ago.”
“Oh,” you said. “Is he alive?” You knew it was bad to wish someone ill, but part of you couldn't help hoping for the worst.
“Barely. He's in intensive care. Can't move a single bone in his body. His jaw is completely crushed.”
“By the car?”
“No. After he'd been hit, the driver got out of the car and beat him up. With a golf club.”
You raised your eyebrows. “With a golf club?”
She nodded.
“And did they, did the police catch whoever…?”
She shook her head. “Strange thing. No one saw anything. Though it happened in broad daylight. On the street right in front of our compound.”
“Huh,” you said.
“Yep,” she shrugged, folding clothes and putting them back into her closet. “And he can't remember anything, he says. Well, he can hardly speak with that fractured jaw. Only liquid diet for him for the next couple of weeks and I guess he won't be around that soon.”
~~~
“I have a job interview, if you must know.”
You put your phone away and pressed your now empty palms against the cool glass behind you.
“A job interview?” Rafe cocked his head.
“Yeah. You know, some people actually do have to get jobs and work for a living.”
You expected him to snap or at least frown at you, but he just grinned.
“So you're nervous?”
You glared at him. “What do you want?”
He chuckled and lifted his hands in a defensive way. “What? Can't I just make friendly conversation?”
The frown on your forehead deepened, your muscles tensing so much, it hurt your damn bruise.
“We are no friends.”
“True,” he shrugged, but he still didn't leave. He just stood there and looked at you. You wondered if he didn't have to be somewhere, but didn't bother to ask, because obviously, the answer would be ‘No'.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head in another direction.
Your foot was tapping on the ground, because, yes, you were fucking nervous. This was important and Rafe Cameron standing there and staring at you like that made you nervous in another kind of way. But you couldn't have that now. Or ever.
“I could help you relax, you know.”
Your head spun around to face him, and he looked like he actually meant it.
You glared at him, but fuck, your traitorous body reacted in an instant. Your skin was buzzing, you felt a restlessness that had nothing to do with being nervous about the interview.
“When's the interview?”
You checked the time on your phone. “Twenty minutes.”
“Ah, not nearly enough time,” he said with that cocky grin.
Why the hell could you practically feel his voice crawling under your skin when he was just standing there?
You pressed your legs together, and feeling the rough fabric of that damn skirt on your skin made you even more itchy.
And Rafe just stood there and he looked so fucking handsome, almost sweet with his baby-blue polo shirt, those fucking curtain bangs and that smile. His hand casually touched his lips, effectively drawing your attention to both his lips and those fingers – god, those fingers…
You growled – at least you hoped it sounded like a growl.
“Fuck it.” You exhaled. “Where's your car?”
“I'm afraid the jeep is at the auto shop. I had… an accident.”
Your eyebrows moved up. Did he just grin?
“But I know a place...”
Rafe moved his head, pointing with his chin in the direction before he started walking, and he just grabbed your wrist to pull you along. You mouthed a complaint, but followed him into an alley behind the storefront.
“I’m not gonna let you eat me out between dumpsters.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, but did not say anything. He tugged you along to a door which he somehow managed to open.
He held it open for you to walk inside, which you did, while eyeing him.
“How do you know about this?”
Yet instead of answering, Rafe grabbed your neck and hip and his hungry lips found yours. And this time you didn't push him away. Your hands found his hair, tugging at it as you reacted to the kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, something so hot, so feverish was ignited, and you had no intention to stop it. Your eyes closed and you heard the door fall shut and some clicking sound that must have been a light switch, but you had no intention of checking. Your body and his were so closely entangled, and you just let him move you in the direction he shoved you, practically clinging to each other.
With your eyes closed, you had shut out any rational thinking. All you wanted was feel. Him. Your own hands eagerly slipped under his shirt – under that damn baby-blue shirt that suited him so well. You couldn't wait to get it off of him.
Rafe seemed to be reading your mind – or just your body – he obliged, broke the kiss to take off his shirt.
And you gazed at his perfectly sculptured torso, those abs made you literally lick your lips.
You were slightly panting, when you quickly took in your surroundings. You were in some dusty storage room that didn't seem to be used – except for Rafe's fuckdates probably. The thought should appall you, but fact was, you were so hot for this guy, you were aching for his touch. And the way he looked at you told you, he was as hungry as you were, maybe even more – blue eyes so intensely gazing at you, you felt naked when still fully clothed. That throbbing between your legs was getting unbearable and you knew that your panties must be soaking wet by now. Just from that damn kiss. That damn hot kiss.
You saw him lick his lips and your breath hitched.
“So are you gonna get on your knees now?” You tried to make your voice sound firm when you felt your body trembling with anticipation.
Rafe chuckled and shook his head.
Stunned for a moment, you just gaped at him, but the next moment he grabbed you and turned you around, and you managed just in time to brace yourself with your hands before colliding with the wall. You let out a gasp.
You craned your head back, as you heard him unzip his pants.
“Fuck, you promised to go down on me!”
“Never said that. I said I'd make you relax.” You could only hear his dark voice, but you were sure he was smirking.
You felt the hot touch of his fingertips on your thigh, felt his hand moving under your skirt, moving between your legs that just parted on their own. You shivered, mewled, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Such a light touch shouldn't affect you that much. You frowned at yourself and reached back to slap at his arm, a rather half-hearted attempt to stop him.
“Oh, you don’t want my cock inside you? I can just leave…” The arrogant tone in his voice made you growl. And the touch of his fingertip grazing over the fabric of your panties – your soaking wet panties – made you moan.
This guy made you so incredibly mad – and needy.
You scoffed and mumbled a curse.
You gripped the hem of your skirt and shoved it up over your waist, pulled down your panties, and they dropped to the floor. You faced the wall, pushing your naked ass out, arching your back and spreading your legs.
“Fuck me. And make me cum”, you commanded – hoping he wouldn't realize how much you were aching for his cock to fill you.
You heard him exhale and shuffle behind you. His large hand on your hip, you felt his length brushing along your slit, pulsing.
“And make it quick,” you said, already panting.
“That I can't promise.”
You were about to talk back, when Rafe's grip got firmer and his hard cock pushed into you, taking all your breath away.
And that was everything you felt from that moment on; your whole being was literally centered around Rafe Cameron’s cock buried deep inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, but he pushed harder, thrust into you with his whole length. You heard him inhale sharply and he remained still for a moment. Then his cock slowly retreated, before thrusting even harder into you.
You found your breath again, panting, moaning, whimpering as he fucked you.
His arms wrapped around you from behind, one hand grabbing your throat, causing you to tense up more, and feeling another rush flooding your senses. He growled close to your ear. Your back arching, moving at his will. You were burning up and shivering at the same time. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach as he continued fucking you from behind, causing you to flinch. His fingertip rubbed your clit – damn, it shouldn’t be so easy for him to find exactly the right spot right away and to give you what your body craved for.
His touch was rough and ruthless, nothing tender about the way he fucked you and pushed you quickly close to the edge. You couldn't even try to hold it back. Your orgasm hit you hard and you moaned shamelessly as he was fucking you through your high. Your body not feeling like your own anymore but something Rafe was in charge off. And he was in absolute control over your sensations, your body, your desires. You were still riding on that high, legs shaking, when you felt another climax building up inside you.
You lost all sense of time or place or anything. You didn't just feel his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his breath on your skin. You felt him everywhere. Every cell of your body was filled with him, his power, his greedy nature. And you'd never felt so much like yourself.
He made you cry out and whine, moan and whimper pathetically as he fucked you relentlessly, turning you into something he used to satisfy his seemingly insatiable appetite.
When you thought you couldn't take anymore, when your body was nothing but a trembling mess at his mercy, he grabbed you harder, fucked you deeper, and hotly groaned into your ear.
You screamed his name, so loud, your lungs burned.
Your body convulsing as you felt his hot cum spilling into you.
His hand turned your face sideways and he whispered something into your ear, but you didn't get the words, only felt his hot breath, only felt his hard cock pushing again into you, up to the hilt.
You had no chance of stopping all those pathetic sounds coming from you, as your body was convulsing around his.
He held you, for a while. You were panting heavily, as you felt his heartbeat at your back.
Your whimpering sounds stopped and your breathing was eventually calming down.
When he pulled out, you almost collapsed to the floor, as your legs seemed unable to carry your own weight. He caught you. Rafe slowly turned you around and held you.
You looked at him, his face flushed, his lips parted as he seemed out of breath too. There was something in his eyes, something so soft. Something that was ripping at your chest.
He slowly moved closer. And the tightness in your chest was unbearable. You pushed him away.
He stepped back and bent down to pick up your panties, handing them to you.
You watched him through narrowed eyes as you put them on. You winced when you felt his warm cum dripping out of you. You glared at him as he grinned.
“Don't you ever use a condom?”
He grinned more and shrugged. “Consider it a lucky charm. For your interview.”
You froze as reality hit you hard.
“Fuck.”
Hastily you smoothed down your crumpled clothes and checked your phone. You were late for the interview. And looked like a fucking mess. Your hair in disarray, your face glowing, sweat covering your body. You looked like you had just been fucked into oblivion.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You looked at the camera and tried to at least wipe away the smudged mascara from your cheeks.
You looked up and saw Rafe, who was just standing there, shirtless, his heaving chest covered in a light film of sweat. He looked at you with that look.
“I hate you.” You scowled at him.
And he just shrugged. “I don't care as long as I get to fuck that fine pussy of yours.”
A surge of hot rage was about to make you jump at him, scratch his blue eyes out, kick his balls, hit his handsome face – but you just let out an exasperated growl, and pushed him out of the way as you left the storage room as fast as you could – thanks to Rafe Cameron that wasn't too fast, as your legs were shaking and you were goddamn sore from being fucked so thoroughly.
a/n This got kinda long and has a lot of plot. Sorry. Reader and Rafe somehow wouldn’t shut up. I appreciate all your feedback and thank you for reading!
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dalliancekay · 3 months
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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE
Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.
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Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.
Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.
WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.
But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.
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And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?
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How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?
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How did Aziraphale spent the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.
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ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?
Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?
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He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.
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Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?
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Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. He was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, I' sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.
Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment
It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).
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pockettwinzz · 1 month
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Bully - P.JY
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୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Lots of bullying, degrading, blood, hitting, trauma, sick parent, kissing, smut, NSFW, fluff, angst
୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : sorry for such drastic turns in this- (i was just trying to make a happy ending or else y'all might kill me kksksks) and yeah there's a poem in it too, i wrote it lolol. I'm not satisfied with this but oh well.. I pray that all some of my moots(who are also my faves) don't read this shi-
𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 <3
୨୧ Word Count ୨୧ : 6.6k | 35,514 characters
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You hated this place. The oppressive humidity sticks to your skin like a second layer of clothing. Even the air feels heavy, as if the atmosphere itself were a physical weight dragging you down. The sky is a relentless shade of gray, like someone smeared charcoal across the horizon, and the constant drizzle turns everything into a uniform shade of drab. You were sitting on the edge of the school's roof, your legs dangling over the edge. Your school backpack sat beside you, its contents scattered around you like a pathetic offering to the gods of lost hopes and dreams.
The sound of footsteps echoes across the rooftop, growing louder with each step. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see a teacher or a security guard approaching. But it's him, Jay. He struts across the rooftop with an arrogant swagger that you know all too well. His dirty-blond hair is slicked back, and his piercing brown eyes are narrowed into a predatory glare. He's dressed in a tight black T-shirt and dark jeans that hug his muscular frame. You can't help but feel a shiver of fear run down your spine.
Jay stops in front of you, his hands planted firmly on his hips. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little mouse herself," he says with a sneer. "What are you doing up here, Yn? Trying to run away from your problems again?"
You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the venom in his voice. "I just need some time alone, Jay," you reply, your voice steady despite your racing heart. "Leave me alone."
He laughs, a cruel sound that grates on your nerves. "Oh, I'm not here to leave you alone, Yn. You know that." He steps closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I'll never leave you alone"
Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to remain still and calm. You know what he's capable of, and you don't want to provoke him any further. "What do you mean, Jay? I don't have anything that belongs to you," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.
Jay's laugh is cold and mocking. "Oh, I don't want anything you have, mouse. I just want to make you suffer a little bit. You've been so lucky for so long, hiding behind your friends and your teachers. Well, today's the day that all that changes."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, worn leather book. You recognize it immediately; it was your diary. Jay snickers as he holds it up for you to see. "I found this little gem in your locker today. It's been so entertaining reading about all the things you've said about me." He winks, and the gesture is so revolting that you feel a shudder run through you. "Oh, and speaking of things you've said…"
He takes a step back and then, with a swift motion, kicks you as hard as he can in the stomach. The air is forced from your lungs in a painful whoosh, and you collapse to the ground, curled up in a ball. Tears well up in your eyes as you gasp for breath, the wet pavement pressing uncomfortably into your back. You feel a hot stinging sensation spread across your abdomen where he kicked you.
"That's for talking shit about me, mouse," he says, his voice cold and cruel. "And if you ever think about telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you regret it." With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you there on the ground, hurt and frightened. You want to cry out, to beg for mercy, but you're too scared to make a sound. All you can do is lie there and try to catch your breath, the taste of bile rising in the back of your throat.
You try to pull yourself up onto your elbows, wincing as the pain in your stomach flares anew, but you can't seem to get any air into your lungs. It feels like Jay has punched the wind out of you, both literally and figuratively. You close your eyes, feeling hot tears well up in the corners, and try to will yourself to breathe.
A few shallow gasps manage to find their way into your lungs, and with each one, you feel a tiny bit more like you can handle this. You force yourself to sit up, pressing your back against the walls for support, and take several deep, ragged breaths. The pain in your stomach begins to subside a little, and you're finally able to focus on something other than the ache.
"What am I going to do?" you whisper to yourself. You know you can't go to the teachers or your friends; Jay would only deny everything, and they wouldn't believe you anyway. And even if they did, they might not be able to protect you from him. You feel trapped, helpless, like there's no way out of this nightmare.
You close your eyes, trying to think of some sort of plan, but all you can see is Jay's angry face and the pain in your stomach. You decide to wait until the end of the day, when everyone else has left the school grounds, and then you'll find some way to get home without him noticing. Maybe if you can just stay out of his sight for a little while longer, things will eventually go back to normal.
Well, it's safe to say things aren't going as planned. The following week passes by in a blur of fear and avoidance. You manage to stay out of Jay's sight during school hours, but you're always on edge, waiting for the moment when his gaze will fall upon you. You're constantly looking over your shoulder, feeling like he's watching you even when you know he isn't. It's exhausting, and the stress starts to take a toll on your grades and your friendships.
Finally, one afternoon as you're hurrying to your next class, you catch a glimpse of him in the hallway. Your heart stops in your chest, and you feel like you can't breathe. He sees you, too, and starts to walk purposefully in your direction. You break into a panicked run, trying to lose him in the crowd, but he's too fast. He catches up to you and grabs your arm roughly, yanking you into an empty classroom.
"What do you want from me?" you choke out, tears streaming down your face. "I didn't do anything!"
Jay just laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Oh, you didn't do anything? Is that what you're going with?" He shoves you roughly against the chalkboard, pinning you there with one hand. "You're a pathetic and dumb liar, you know that?"
You cough, trying to catch your breath. "Jay, I swear I didn't-"
He cuts you off with a harsh shove. "Save it. You know what you did." His grip tightens on your arm, and it feels like he's crushing your bone. "Now, I want you to tell me where it is."
You try to pull away, but he's too strong. "Where's what?" you choke out, tears streaming down your face.
Jay sighs, as if you're being painfully dense. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I know you have it. And I want it back."
You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your face. "I don't have it! I swear! I don't know what you're talking about!"
Jay's grip tightens painfully, and he yanks you closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Don't lie to me," he whispers menacingly.
You cry out, trying to pull away from him, but it's no use. "I'm not lying! I swear I don't have it!"
Jay's face turns red with anger, and he shoves you roughly against the chalkboard again, the sharp edges biting into your back. Jay laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Oh, come on. You expect me to believe that?" He presses the heel of his hand against your cheek, forcing your head back against the chalkboard. "You're just as bad a liar as you are a thief."
He's not letting up. Every blow feels like it's breaking something new inside you. You want to scream, but you can't find the breath. You feel like you're choking on his anger, like it's filling your lungs and blocking everything else out. The pain is intense, but the fear is worse. Fear that this will never end, fear that he'll really kill you this time, fear that no one will ever believe you if you do survive.
He throws you to the ground, your head hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. The pain shoots through your skull, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Jay stands over you, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. You try to crawl away, but your body feels numb and weak. You can feel warm blood trickling down your face and neck, stinging your skin.
"I'm sorry," you manage to choke out between ragged breaths. "I'm so sorry." You spoke before you passes out, before your body completely gives out.
Jay watches you, unblinking, as your eyes flutter shut and your chest barely rises and falls. He stands there for a moment, his anger slowly dissipating, replaced by a strange sort of feeling. Regret? Maybe. Guilt? Hard to say. But he knows he can't leave you like this. He reaches down, rolling you onto your side gently, shaking your figure, "H-hey" he whispers "Wake up!"
"YN!! WAKE UP!" Jay shouts, shaking you harder. He feels tears streaming down his face as he tries to wake you up, but you just lie there, motionless. Panic surges through him as he realizes that he might have gone too far.
One of his friends, Jungwon, suddenly bursts into the room, taking in the scene before him with wide eyes. "Jay! What the fuck is going on?"
Jay looks up at Jungwon, panic still etching lines on his face. "I-I don't know. She just wouldn't wake up." He points at you, the tears streaming down his cheeks now.
"Call an ambulance right now" Jungwon says, his voice quivering. He looks at Jay, then back at you, and then back at Jay again, still unable to process what's happening. He dials 911 and hands the phone to Jay, who takes a deep breath before giving the operator their address.
--
You wake up to open curtains and a soft bed beneath you. The room is white, clean, and quiet. You take a deep breath and sit up, your head throbbing. You don't recognize the room or the person sitting by your bedside. Hell, you don't even remember why you were there.
Your parents rushed into the room, relief and worry etched on their faces. They flank you, their arms around your shoulders. "Oh, sweetie," your mom whispers, tears streaming down her face. "We were so worried." Your dad nods, his voice thick as he says, "We don't know what happened."
"Well," you manage, still trying to piece it together, "I d-don't remember anything…" You trail off, frowning.
Your parents exchange worried glances. Your dad squeezes your shoulder. "That's okay, sweetie. We're just glad you're here and safe now."
--
The following months are a blur of doctors, therapy. They think you don't remember anything but; You remember everything. The feeling of Jay's hands around your throat, the sound of his voice raised in anger, the pain of your body hitting the ground. You try to convince yourself that it was all just a terrible nightmare, but you can't shake the sense of foreboding that follows you everywhere.
You hadn't told anyone about the dreams. You didn't want them to worry, or think that you were losing your mind. But they were so vivid, so real, that it was hard to pretend they were just nightmares. Sometimes, when you were alone in your room, you could almost feel Jay's hands around your throat again, could almost hear his voice raised in anger. It was like he was haunting you, reminding you of what had happened and what could still happen if you didn't stay careful.
Going to school back after all this was a struggle. You felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You could feel the weight of their eyes on your back. You couldn't help but wonder if Jay was still out there, watching you too. Sometimes, when you thought you saw him in the hallway, your heart would skip a beat and you'd feel a cold sweat break out on your back.
Your friends were there for you, or at least they tried to be. They made sure you never walked home alone, and they always stayed close by your side. They didn't understand what had happened, and they didn't want to push you. But you could see the worry in their eyes, the fear that maybe this wasn't the end of it.
One day, as you're walking through the hallway, you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. You turn around, expecting it to be one of your friends playing a joke on you. But it's not. It's him. Jay. He looks different - his hair is shorter, he's lost some weight. But it's definitely him. His eyes are cold and hard as he says, "I've been looking for you."
You try to remain calm, but your heart is racing. You can't think of anything to say. "What do you want?" you manage to choke out.
"I-I'm sorry." He says, his voice shaking. "I don't know what came over me that night. I was just so angry…I lost control. I never meant to hurt you that badly." He steps closer, his voice lowering.
Your heart races as he says this. You can feel the fear rising up in your throat, choking you. You want to believe him, but you can't help but remember the way he felt when he had his hands around your throat, the sound of his voice as he screamed at you.
"It doesn't matter," you manage to choke out. "Just leave me alone." You turn away from him, wanting to put some distance between you. But he grabs your arm, his grip gentle.
"Please, I need to talk to you. I can't explain it, but I feel like things have been so messed up since that night. I don't want us to be like this anymore." He looks at you pleadingly, and for a moment, you almost believe him.
You hesitate, your heart racing. You can't help but wonder if this is all some sort of twisted game. But you can't deny the desperation in his eyes, the way he seems to truly regret what happened. "Okay," you say slowly.
He nods, looking relieved. "Thank you," he says, his voice softening. "I don't want things to go back to how they were before."
You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and hope in your chest. "Okay," you say slowly.
He nods, seeming to gain confidence from your agreement. "I just want to say that I'm sorry for what I did," he begins. "I don't know what I was thinking. I've been so lost since my mom has been... not so well and I've been taking it out on everyone around me. I never meant to hurt you."
You listen carefully to him, trying to decide if you believe him or not. A part of you wants to trust him, but another part of you can't help but remember the way he looked in your eyes that night, the way he hurt you. You stay silent, not sure what to say.
"I know it's hard to believe me," he says, "but I swear I'm not the same person I was before. I've been going to therapy, trying to work through my issues. I just want to start over with you." He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness.
You're still not sure what to think. A part of you wants to believe him, wants to trust him again. But another part of you is scared, afraid that if you let your guard down, he'll hurt you again. You decide to give him a chance, "Okay," you say softly. "I'll try."
He seems to relax a little, taking your words as a sign of hope. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise I'll never hurt you again. I'll do everything I can to make it up to you."
--
Jay had become a total sweetheart since that night. He was always checking in on you, making sure you were okay, and constantly apologizing for his behavior. He even started including you in his plans with his friends, making an effort to get to know you better. It felt like he was really trying to make things right.
He'd been true to his word, and you found yourself beginning to trust him again. You enjoyed spending time with him, and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that he was a good person deep down. He'd just been going through a rough patch. You forgave him for what happened, and slowly but surely, you began to feel closer to him again.
One day, as you sat together at lunch, you noticed a group of girls from your class glaring at you. "What are they looking at?" you ask Jay, feeling a little self-conscious.
He follows your gaze and frowns. "Probably just jealous," he says with a shrug. "They're just mad because they can't be us." He grins at you, then leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, you're really special to me. I mean, you're the only person I've ever really cared about. It's like, with you, everything just feels right." His words make your heart flutter, and you can't help but smile back at him.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you stand up to gather your things. "Hey," Jay says, taking your hand in his, "do you want to hang out after school? We could go get coffee or something."
You blush, feeling warmth spread through your chest. "Sure," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "That sounds nice."
After school, you and Jay walk to a local coffee shop, hand in hand. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the city as you step inside the cozy little shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and you can't help but feel relaxed.
You find a table in the back, away from the crowds, and Jay orders you both a drink. As you wait for it to arrive, you can't help but marvel at how different things feel between the two of you now. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you can finally just enjoy being with him.
"So," Jay says, taking a sip of his coffee, "I've been thinking about what we should do for our next date. I was thinking maybe we could go see a movie or go out for dinner. What do you think?"
"Already thinking bout another?" you tease, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. "I mean, we just got here." You take a sip of your coffee, savoring the warmth that spreads through your chest. "A movie does sound nice, though. What about that one with the cute animals? You know, the one that's been out for awhile but you haven't seen yet?"
Jay chuckles. "Yeah, that one sounds good. I've been meaning to catch it too. And as for another date, well, I'm just excited to spend more time with you, that's all." He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his again, giving it a squeeze. "You really are something special."
You could feel the butterflies in your stomach return. "Thanks," you manage to say, not quite meeting his eyes. You take another sip of your coffee, savoring the warmth that spreads through your body. It feels good to be wanted, to be loved. You glance around the coffee shop, taking in the people walking by, the sound of coffee being made, the soft murmur of conversation.
"So," you say, trying to change the subject, "what have you been up to lately? Anything interesting?" You want to know everything about him, to know what makes him tick.
"Oh, you know, just the usual. School, work, trying to find time to sleep," Jay says with a laugh. "But I've actually been working on this side project, something just for fun. I'm making a small song for someone." He grins at you, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride.
"Really?" you ask, genuinely excited. "That's so cool. I'd love to hear it sometime."
Jay leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You'll have to wait then." He winks, and you feel your stomach flip-flop. "But I promise you won't be disappointed."
The evening passes by in a blur of laughter and conversation. You and Jay find yourselves completely lost in each other's company, hardly noticing the time slipping away. You can't help but squeal and giggle at all the right moments. As you walk out of the café, hand in hand, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. You've never felt this way before, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
You decide to walk around the city for awhile, taking in the sights and sounds. The air is crisp and cool, and the lights of the city twinkle like stars against the night sky. Jay's arm is around your waist, and you can't help but feel safe and protected when he's near.
He dropped you off at your apartment earlier than usual, knowing that you had an early class in the morning. You didn't want him to leave, but he insisted, giving you a soft kiss goodnight. As he drove away, you stood in the doorway, watching his car until it disappeared from sight.
--
It had been a few days since your date with Jay, and you can't help but feel a little antsy. Every time your phone buzzes, you hope it's him. You've texted him a few times, but he always seems to be busy with school or work. You're trying not to be too clingy, but it's hard not to miss him.
He hasn't been coming to school lately, and you're starting to worry. You check your phone obsessively, hoping for a text from him, but there's only silence. You decide to take matters into your own hands and track him down. You had even asked Jungwon about it, but he just shrugged and said that Jay had been pretty secretive about his personal life. So, you send Jay a message, telling him you're thinking about him and hope everything's okay.
It wasn't until you received a call from him that you finally heard his voice again. Your heart skipped a beat as you answered, feeling a rush of relief wash over you. "Hey, what's up?"
You could hear crying on the other end of the line, and your heart sank. "Jay, what's wrong? Are you okay?" you ask, your voice shaking.
He sniffles, and you can almost feel the pain in his voice. "I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you. It's just… my mom. She's really sick, and the doctor says…" His voice trails off, and you can tell he's struggling to hold it together.
You're stunned into silence for a moment. You didn't know Jay had a mom. "Oh, Jay… I'm so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" You're sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching the blanket in your hands.
"No, no, it's okay. I just… I don't want to talk about it right now. I just wanted to let you know, so you wouldn't worry. I'm sorry I worried you in the first place." He sniffles again.
You pause, taking a deep breath. "You don't have to apologize. I care about you, and I want to be here for you, okay? Whatever you need, I'm here. Should I come over?"
Jay's voice is still shaky, but there's a hint of relief in it. "No, no, that's… that's really sweet of you, but I don't want you to see me like this. I'm a mess." He sniffles again. "I just wanted you to know. I'll… I'll let you know if there's anything I need, okay?"
Your heart aches for him, and you want nothing more than to be there for him. "Okay, Jay. You know you can call me anytime, right? If you ever need someone to talk to"
He sniffles again, and you can almost picture him wiping his eyes. "Thanks, Yn. You're really sweet. I'll… I'll keep you posted. I gotta go now, okay?"
The call ended, and you're left with a heavy heart. You stare at your phone for a moment, feeling helpless. There was a weird feeling in your stomach, like a mixture of sadness and fear. You knew that Jay was going through a tough time, and you wanted to be there for him. But you also felt selfish, like you wanted him to be there for you too.
You couldn't focus on anything for the rest of the day. You kept thinking about Jay and his mom, wondering if there was anything you could do to help. You knew he'd said he'd keep you posted, but the wait was agonizing.
A few days later, you receive another call from Jay. Your heart leaps into your throat when you see his name on the screen. "Hey, Yn. I'm… I'm really sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know… things aren't looking good with my mom. The doctor says her chances of surviving... Aren't much" His voice breaks, and you can hear the pain in his words.
You're stunned into silence, your mind racing with all the things you want to say but can't find the words for. Finally, you manage to croak out, "Oh, Jay… I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"
Jay sniffles and clears his throat. "C-can you come over?" he stutters. "I-I don't want to be alone right now."
"Of course, Jay. I'm on my way. Just send me your address"
You hang up the phone, feeling a mix of sadness and fear. You quickly find Jay's address and input it into your GPS. As you drive over to his house, your mind races with all the things you could say to comfort him. You know you can't take away his pain, but you want to be there for him in any way you can.
When you arrive at his house, you park your car and hurry to the front door. Jay answers it after a few moments, his eyes red and puffy. He doesn't say anything, just stands there, looking lost. You reach out and hug him, feeling his body shake with sobs as he clings to you. You let him cry for a moment, just holding him and rubbing his back.
As you enter the living room. You see it's dimly lit, and there's an overwhelming smell of medication in the air. You sit down next to him on the couch, and he leans into you, still crying. You don't know what to say, so you just hold him and let him cry. After a while, he pulls away and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I-I'm sorry, Yn. I didn't mean to… I just… I don't know what to do," he stammers. You pat his knee and hand him a tissue.
"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be strong right now. You can cry. And you know, I'm here for you. We'll figure this out together, okay?" You say, trying to sound more confident than you feel.
Jay sniffles and nods, wiping his face with the tissue. "Thanks… I just don't want her to be alone. I can't even imagine…" His voice trails off, and he looks away, staring blankly at a photo of his mom on the coffee table.
You take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "You know, Jay, she's not alone. You're there with her, and I'm here with you. We'll get through this together, okay?" You look into his eyes, hoping that he can see the sincerity in yours.
He nods, sniffling, and wipes his nose again. "I-I just don't want her to suffer, you know? The doctor says there's not much more they can do, and I-I can't bear the thought of her being in pain."
"I feel so useless" Jay whispers, shaking his head. "She's the strongest person I know, and I can't do anything to help her." You squeeze his hand and lean in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "Jay, she knows you're here for her. She knows how much you love her, and how much you're hurting right now. That means more to her than anything. Just being with her, holding her hand, talking to her, listening to her… that's all she needs right now."
"B-but-" Jay starts to protest, but you shush him by placing your lips on his. The kiss is gentle at first, a soft brush of lips against lips, but it grows more intense as he responds. Jay's hands move from your sides to your face, holding you to him. You can feel the raw emotion radiating from him, and it only serves to heighten the connection between you.
As the kiss ends, you pull back slightly, gazing into his eyes. "She knows, Jay. She knows that you're here for her, and that you love her more than anything. Just be there for her, okay? That's all she needs right now." You reach up and wipe a tear from his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
"And," you say, taking a deep breath, "I care about you, Jay. I care about your mom, too. You're not alone. This probably isn't the best time for this but, I love you Jay." You look into his eyes, trying to convey all of this with your gaze.
He seems to register this, his eyes widening slightly, before he blinks and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I love you too, Yn." Then he takes your hand, kissing the back of your palm. "Thank you."
--
Months pass by, and Jay's mother's condition gets better. You're there for him every step of the way, holding his hand, listening to his fears, and sharing your own strength with him. There are good days and bad days, but you find comfort in knowing that Jay has someone who truly cares about him, someone who will never leave his side.
One afternoon, as you're watching a movie together on the couch, Jay leans in close, his lips brushing against yours. You melt into the kiss, feeling the warmth of his body and the desperation in his embrace. It's a passionate, intense kiss, and it's clear that Jay has been wanting this for a long time.
It felt so perfect to be in Jay's arms again. The weight of his body pressed against yours, his lips moving against yours, their warmth spreading through you. You moan into the kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair as he pulls you even closer. You can feel his heart racing against yours, the thudding of it in your chest matching the rhythm of your own. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts over your shirt, and you gasp into his mouth as desire surges through you.
He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his own glassy with desire. "I want you," he whispers, his voice husky and raw. "I've wanted you for so long." He kisses you again, more urgently this time, as his hands move to unbutton your shirt. You help him, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.
As soon as your shirt is off, he groans, his lips moving down your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. His hands find their way up your sides, under your bra, cupping your breasts over your lace-covered nipples. You gasp as his touch ignites a fire in your chest. You reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and off, revealing his smooth, toned chest.
Jay leans in closer, their bodies flush against each other. His lips meet yours once more, his tongue darting out to tease and explore your mouth. His hands slide up your sides, around your waist, and down to your hips, lifting you up slightly so that you're straddling his lap. He groans into the kiss, feeling the heat between your legs pressed against his hard length.
You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as he rolls his hips, grinding his erection against you. His hands cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, urging you to move against him. You moan into the kiss, feeling the familiar ache begin to build inside you.
He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. His teeth scrape against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. His fingers slide between you, parting your wet folds, and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out as he smiles against your skin.
You rock your hips against his hand, feeling the need building inside you, growing more insistent with each passing moment. "I need you so b-bad" your voice breathless and desperate. Jay groans, his fingers moving faster, stroking you in a rhythm that matches the ache in your core.
His other hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast over your nipple. You cry out, arching your back as he rolls the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger. His lips find your neck again, sucking and nipping at your skin as he thrusts his hips, pushing his erection deeper against you.
You feel the familiar tugging sensation deep inside you, and with a groan, you begin to climax, your body tensing and convulsing around him. Jay holds you tightly, his fingers still moving as he brings you to the peak of pleasure again and again. He kisses you passionately, their tongues tangling together as your cries of pleasure echo around the room.
His hips begin to move faster, harder, matching the rhythm of your climaxes. You feel him get closer and closer, and with a hoarse cry, he thrusts deeply inside you, his body tense and shuddering as he releases himself, filling you completely. His grip on you tightens, and you can feel his weight pressing you into the bed as he comes down from the high of their shared passion.
You both catch your breath, your chests rising and falling in unison. Jay leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before moving lower, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. "You're incredible," he whispers, his voice husky and raw. .
As you both begin to catch your breath, Jay slides out of you, taking his weight off and moving up to lie beside you. He gently rolls you onto your side, spooning you from behind. His arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting on your hip, while the other cups your breast over your still-hardened nipple. You feel his erection pressed against your back, and you can't help but arch your hips slightly into him.
He kisses your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder. "I could do this all day," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Just feel you wrapped around me like this."
You let out a soft moan "Me too," you reply, your voice husky with desire. "I could stay like this forever."
--
You were giggling as you clutched the blindfold, "Babe~" you whined playfully, you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest, and then his lips pressed into your neck, just below your ear.
"Do you wanna hear my song now?" He asked, his lips moving against your skin. "I've been practicing it all day." You could feel him smile against your neck. He opened your blind fold and placed you onto the couch as he lifted his guitar.
His fingers danced over the strings, the sound filling the room.
"In the realm of love and devotion,
Where hearts entwine in sweet emotion,
I stand before you, my love so true,
With words of hope and promise anew.
Upon a hill, beneath the stars above,
I declare my intentions, my undying love,
To spend forever by your side,
As partners in life, on love's sweet ride.
I bring to you a ring of gold,
A symbol of the love we hold,
A promise made, a vow so true,
To cherish and honor, to always be true.
With each step taken, our love does grow,
A bond that only lovers know,
Through joy and tears, through thick and thin,
Together we'll face life's battles and win.
I vow to be your rock, your guiding light,
To hold you close on every night,
To be your shelter in life's storm,
To keep you safe, to keep you warm.
Our love will be a beacon bright,
A shining star in the darkest night,
Guiding us through life's twists and turns,
With a flame that forever burns.
So will you, my love, be my partner for life,
To stand by my side as husband and wife,
To share in each other's triumphs and tears,
To love and cherish through all the years?
With this ring, I make my plea,
To spend forever in love with thee,
To be your partner, your best friend,
Until the very end.
So let us vow, on this day,
To love and cherish, come what may,
To walk hand in hand, through life's great dance,
With love and devotion, in sweet romance.
And as we stand, hearts beating as one,
Our journey together has just begun,
With love as our guide, we'll soar above,
In the epic tale of our eternal love."
As the last note of the song faded into the air, you felt tears well up in your eyes. Jay had written this song just for you, and it was absolutely beautiful. You could feel the emotion behind every word, and it made your heart swell with love and gratitude.
He set his guitar aside and moved back to spoon you from behind. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade. "So," he began, his voice quiet but steady, "Will you be my partner, my love, my wife?"
Tears streamed down your face as you turned your head to look at him. "Yes," you whispered, "Yes, Jay, I will." You felt your heart swell with love and happiness, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. "I love you so much, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
He smiled at you, his eyes shining with tears of his own. "I love you too, Ynnie. I promise to always cherish you, to protect you, and to make you the happiest woman in the world." He kissed you softly on the lips, his tongue tracing the outline of your mouth before slipping inside.
The kiss deepened, and time seemed to stand still as you were lost in the feeling of being close to him. You could feel his heart racing against yours, and it only served to remind you of how perfectly you fit together.
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