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#it's in the afternoon and they are nowhere to be found still
baldursyourgate · 9 months
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c suite minthara au is so amusing to me. I kinda have a hard time imagining her working a sedentary job but like. Board meeting and she pulls out the shittiest powerpoint. Curtains transition effect that takes a solid two seconds. And shes dead serious about it too. Laugh and you'd prefer being dead right that instant. Gets frustrated with the projector. what the fuck is a HDMI cable. *snaps fingers* wheres my [hyper specific coffee order]. Walks around in her glass window office and post the most out of touch linkedin post ever to humankind.
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daycourtofficial · 4 months
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Empty Bed Blues
Summary: based on this request - you and Azriel have a spat and he can’t sleep without you. So he takes things into his own hands.
Divider by cafekitsune
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“Do we have to go to this stupid dinner?”
Azriel had nuzzled his face into your neck, attempting to keep you in his arms. You stood from the bath, reaching for a towel.
“Yes, we do.”
“But m’tired.”
You run your fingers through his wet hair, his sounds of contentment permeating the silence.
You two were staying in the House of Wind for the evening, anticipating debauchery. You were planning to drink to your heart’s content and you hated winnowing and flying when you were drunk. The last time you flew while extremely drunk, you made him stop so you could throw up in the bushes of a few Velaris storefronts. You sent copious gifts the next morning in apology, but you still felt incredibly bad about it.
“And whose fault is that?”
Azriel had been working like a dog all day, having left your home before the sun rose. His grip tightens on the tub, a pause before he says, “Rhys’s.”
You laugh, “you’re the one who left at the ass crack of dawn to go work when you knew we were going to see everyone tonight.”
He groans, tilting his head back against the porcelain. “Why can’t we stay here? We know exactly what’s going to happen. Cassian’s going to make a crude joke to you to get me riled up, Mor’s going to drink and talk about who she saw the past week, and Amren’s going to sit in the corner and make me uncomfortable.”
You move closer to him, looking at him incredulously, “Wow, do you even like your family?”
“No,” he replies, his lips in a pout. “But I like you.”
You laugh at his attempts to keep you here and his blatant lie about not liking his family. However, you’d been looking forward to this dinner all week and you wouldn’t let a pouty mate keep you from it.
“Baby, I love you, and I’d do anything for you,” his eyes light up at your praise of him, “except miss out on this dinner.”
He deflates, sighing. “I’ve been gone all week and you’d rather see my family?”
You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your agitation to a minimum. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing them all week - you’ve been off on a mission, and I’ve been in Summer all week for Rhys. I’m just excited to let my hair down.”
His jaw ticks, “I just wanted to rest tonight.”
You blow out a breath, “you’re the one who decided to work all day after being gone all week.”
You can feel his annoyance down the bond, and you push some of your own back at him. You two stare each other down, withering gazes trying to get the other to back down. You clutch your towel closer to yourself, walking away calling over your shoulder, “well then, you can get some rest up here, alone.”
-
You retreat down the stairs, having dinner with your family. You refused to see your mate after your argument this afternoon. You had been looking forward to seeing everyone all week, and yet it wasn’t the same with the seat next to you empty.
Nesta had walked past you as you had exited your room, so you’re sure she had heard your argument based on the look she gave you. You’re also sure she told Cassian, who spent the evening trying to keep you in good spirits.
You appreciated his efforts, and you loved your family, but it truly wasn’t the same without your mate next to you.
Upstairs Azriel huffed, turning once again in an attempt to get comfortable. Nothing felt right. The comforting weight of you was nowhere to be found, leaving him in a sleepless fit. He swears he can hear your laughter from downstairs where you’re talking with his family at a dinner he elected not to attend because he was being stubborn and just wanted his stubborn, beautiful mate to lay in bed with him.
He runs his hands down his face, remembering the years where he could sleep wherever necessary. His romanticized version of those years doesn’t last long, as he also remembers how little he slept, weeks where his time spent asleep tallied in the single digits.
Your presence has made it nearly impossible for him to sleep without you nearby, but it also makes him actually sleep. The once permanent purple and blue bags under his eyes have slowly disappeared thanks to you.
Your presence is a luxury he’s been afforded, and damn it all, he’s going to indulge. Azriel gets out of bed, not even bothering to put on a shirt. He moves with speed, determination moving his feet through the halls and down the stairs. He reaches the entrance to the living room, his family lounging across various sofas and couches. His eyes find yours immediately, your lips parting in surprise. You’re standing next to Cassian and Nesta, looking at something in Nesta’s hands.
He stalks over to you, not letting you get a word in before ducking down and lifting you over his shoulder.
“Hello?” You call out, hands gripping onto his hips to stabilize yourself. You can hear Cassian whistle while Nesta mumbles, “dumb brutish male,” after you. He carries you up the stairs, the sounds of your family’s snickering dying down the further you go.
He doesn’t speak as you wind down the hall, or as he opens the door, or as he sets you down on the bed. He’s silent as he lays back down, and you start to ask what this is all about when he reaches a hand out, wrapping around your bicep. He pulls you towards him, settling you on top of his chest.
He sighs contentedly, finally opening his eyes and looking at you.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbles, and his eyes start drooping, his body finally able to relax.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile on your face as you ask, “and why’s that?”
He wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. “Needed you,” he breathes into your neck, nuzzling you with his nose. “Can’t sleep without you.”
“You’re spoiled,” you tell him, hands grazing over his cheeks.
He pretends to bite one of your fingers without opening his eyes. “I’m a male who knows what he wants.”
“Can I at least change into a nightgown?”
“If you can do it without getting out of my arms, yes.”
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surftrips · 5 months
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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3
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i. i think you have a type, and it's not me
Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 
She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 
Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.
The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?
Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 
Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 
ii. mold me how you want me to be
Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 
Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?
At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?
Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.
Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 
And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.
iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 
A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.
Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 
After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 
As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 
“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.
Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.
“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 
“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 
“Why?”
“Why…. am I sorry?”
Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 
When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”
“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 
“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 
“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.
“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 
“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 
“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 
Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 
At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 
“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 
“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 
“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 
“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 
“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 
The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 
“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 
“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 
Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 
“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 
You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 
“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—
“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 
“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 
“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 
Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 
Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 
“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 
Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.
That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.
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whoistartaglia · 6 months
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delirious
does a confession count when it comes from someone delirious with fever?
alhaitham x reader
you’re clearly sick with fever, you know it, alhaitham knows it, and even your professor to whom you’ve never said a single word knows it. so why are you, wearing a black mask, coughing up a lung, and a second away from sleep, in lecture?
alhaitham has his own hypotheses to that particular question, but the fact remains is that there’s still about ten more minutes of lecture and he doesn’t know if you’re going to make it. not because of death—at least, he certainly hopes not—but because he meant it when he said you’re a whisp away from dreamland. one blink might send you head first into a fever dream, and you honestly think you might be in one when alhaitham silently packs his bag and silently moves through the lecture hall to sit next to you.
“what are you doing?” you whisper.
“taking you home.”
you cough before responding, and alhaitham cringes at the sound.
“home?”
“back to the dorm,” he clarifies.
you and alhaitham both live in the same dorm, though you only realized it when he came knocking on your door, with only the message of “you’re being too loud, i’m trying to study, please quiet down” when you opened it. your roommate was understandably annoyed by his obtrusiveness, and you were too, to an extent. until you told your roommate the very next day you thought he was cute and recognized him from lecture.
a lost cause, your roommate called you.
a lost cause was right.
“why?” you ask again through another cough.
alhaitham shrugs. “consider it me doing something nice.”
“but you’re not nice?”
alhaitham raises an eyebrow. your face is pale and laced with confusion, and if the statement didn’t come out as a sincere question, alhaitham would be much more offended. presently, he’s a little miffed—of course he’s nice, just when he wants to be, which may or may not be less than the average person—and has just realized something very interesting.
you don’t have much of a filter when sick with fever.
you’re also not very… present. he had to nudge you when the lecture ended and the professor started packing up. he had to subsequently coax you to pack up, because you told him you were so tired you could fall asleep right there and then.
“you can’t do that.”
“but why?”
“it’s too warm in here and lecture chairs are uncomfortable, and another class is coming in.”
“i don’t care,” you told him, a pout gracing your features.
“well, i do,” alhaitham says, standing. he looks down at you. “now, are you going to let me walk you back or are you doing to stay?”
“stay.”
so you have a streak of stubbornness when you’re sick, too. alhaitham rolls his eyes and starts packing your stuff himself, tossing in your laptop (which hasn’t been touched the entire lecture) and notebook (which also has remained unopened) and even takes your phone, plopping it in before zippering the bag shut, tossing it over his shoulder, and heading towards the exit.
it takes you a second in your hazed state to realize what happened before you pull yourself up and out of your seat and into the hallway. alhaitham’s nowhere to be found and you’re about to unleash a string of curses on his good name before you hear footsteps behind you.
“ready to go?”
you glare at him. “isn’t it a crime to mess with someone who’s sick?”
“a crime? no. morally wrong? maybe.” alhaitham shrugs, a slight smile tugging on his lips. “but that’s something for the philosophers to decide.”
you huff as you walk along side him, out of the lecture hall and onto the main campus. it’s a cold winter afternoon and you pull your sweatshirt around you tighter. maybe you wouldn’t have gotten sick if you didn’t insist on not wearing a winter coat when the temperature is near freezing. but then again, if you hadn’t gotten sick, then this serendipitous exchange might not have occurred.
as if reading your thoughts, alhaitham asks, “did your forget your jacket?”
“i didn’t wear one.”
“why not?”
“i am immune to the cold.”
“i assume that’s why your sick.”
“i’m not sick,” you tell him. a following series of coughs proves you wrong and has alhaitham raising his eyebrows. “okay, maybe i’m a little sick.”
“maybe just a little,” alhaitham agrees with you.
you spend the remainder of the short walk in silence, and it’s only when alhaitham leaves your side to open the door to your dorm that you realize you’re back. you think that, if this were any other time, you’d be thrilled and blushing that your crush walked you back to your dorm. he even insisted upon it. a part of you is, but it’s unfortunate you can’t outwardly show it—that is, you don’t really have the energy to.
you also can’t believe this is actually happening and real. your mind is currently afloat in a realm of feverish haze, a sign that you need a nap, but before you can unlock your dorm door, alhaitham pauses ourside of it.
he clears his throat and looks down at you staring up at him, like he’s a comet in the sky. “why did you come to lecture today? you’re clearly not feeling well.”
you stare at him through a sick-filled haze, like you might currently be lost in a fever dream you can’t quite wake up from. like you don’t know if it’s him asking or a fragment of your feverish imagination playing a trick on you.
“because i wanted to see you.”
the words, said so innocently, echo in alhaitham’s ears. you look as if you’ve either forgotten what you just said or unsure if you said anything at all. in the back of his mind, alhaitham wonders if him prying you for your feelings on him would also be a moral debate for the philosophers, but decides to press a little harder, dig a little deeper.
“why did you want to see me?”
“because…” you hesitate, tilt your head, consider the question. “because i like you?”
like the statement from earlier, it comes out as a question. as if it’s something obvious that you’re having a hard time believing alhaitham doesn’t know. as if it’s a simple truth, like the sky is blue, so simple it shouldn’t need explanation.
if you weren’t so sick right now, you might have blushed and looked down at your shoes before blinking up at him through your eyelashes and saying something coy. but like alhaitham realized earlier, you have little to no filter right now.
“i’m going to take a nap,” you tell him, before unlocking your door, waving goodbye, and shutting it firmly in his face.
alhaitham blinks, looks around for a second, then focused on your closed dorm door. he thought you might have liked him—especially when you started glancing at him more during lecture, and even asked to be his partner for a homework assignment. but could he really trust a confession from you in your addled state?
alhaitham shrugs and turns away from the door and walks down the hallway to his own room. when he enters, his roommate looks at him inquisitively, because alhaitham’s blushing, and alhaitham never blushes like this, but he brushes him off. alhaitham decides he’ll ask you again for confirmation when you’ve recovered, just to make sure.
but now he’s starting to feel sick, and wonders if he also might have a fever—from whatever sickness you have or a newfound lovesickness, he can only hypothesize. (it’s probably the latter.)
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 1] Ikebana
Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Morning Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Spitting, Praise Kink, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Shower Sex, Death (Not Major), Slight Angst, Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Satoru doesn’t remember much about his childhood– Not the parts that didn’t involve you anyway. He remembers playing with you when you were kids, but apart from that, he can only remember pivotal moments. Important moments that to no surprise, always managed to involve you.
When Satoru was five, he walked into his kitchen with a scraped knee, searching for help from someone that worked around the house. That’s when he saw a girl around his age, and he got excited. So excited that he forgot about his scraped knee. The girl hadn’t noticed him though, as she tried to get her mother’s attention. 
“Hi! I’m Satoru” were his first words to her. That’s when you turned to see him, and you like to think that a beautiful friendship blossomed.
Satoru never really understood why you lived there, or why his parents never acknowledged you when you two played together. They’d address Suguru, one of his closest friends, or literally anyone else that would come over from school. Just not you, even though you’d play together every afternoon.
When Satoru was seven, he understood that your mother was a servant and lived in the servants’ quarters along with the other people that worked in the house. Satoru didn’t quite understand how important his family was or how rich they were at that time. 
When Satoru was eight, he was turning into a spoiled brat. He was already spoiled before but he wasn’t quite a brat. He’d throw tantrums more often, and not only was he rude to his friends, but especially to you. That attitude went on for months until you said,
“I don’t want to play with you anymore.” which made Satoru realize that maybe he wasn’t being the best person to his friends. That same afternoon you received your first flower. A lily that he picked out from his mother’s garden, something that if she knew, she’d be livid. That was the first time Satoru ever apologized to anyone, and the first time he gave a girl a flower.
When Satoru was ten, he remembers how his parents started to argue about topics he didn’t quite understand. He just remembered being uncomfortable as he heard their aggravating yelling, and feeling embarrassed because you’d be there playing with him. As an adult, Satoru wonders why they decided to argue so close to his room when they lived in a literal mansion. He guesses it’s not their fault that their bedroom was right by Satoru’s. But in the end, Satoru is grateful because you decided to help Satoru out by dragging him out of the room.
He remembers being annoyed at first, claiming he didn’t want to play outside. The playroom was close to his parents’ bedroom as well. There was nowhere he seemed where he could escape, although the house had a multitude of rooms. You dragged him to your mother’s room and showed him the few toys you had. You still had fun, and Satoru was able to forget about his parents’ problems.
When Satoru was eleven, he begged his father to allow you to go to school with him. The problem was that he went to a private school, and the tuition was something your mother could definitely not afford. But he begged and begged until his father finally pulled some strings and got you into the school, and the Gojo family paid for your school’s tuition.
When Satoru was twelve, his father’s work was in vain. Satoru’s group of friends didn’t really like him hanging out with someone else so much while at school, especially a girl who was just the daughter of a servant. Satoru got defensive about it at first, until he wasn’t. He stopped hanging out with you at school, ignoring you at lunch or whenever you found yourselves in the classroom together. You didn’t understand Satoru’s cold behavior until you heard one of his friends talk about you to him.
“Why do you even keep looking at her? She’s probably all dirty.” And those words broke your heart. You knew what he meant. You also remembered Satoru not saying anything. 
You didn’t try to talk to him back at his home, and he really didn’t mind. From that moment on, your friendship deteriorated since Satoru wouldn’t try to talk to you, locking himself in his bedroom.
When Satoru was thirteen, he thought he got his first crush. It was one of your friends from school, he recalls her name being Shoko. He found her cute, and thought about asking for your help to ask her out, but you two didn’t talk anymore. You didn’t acknowledge each other, even though you went home together. 
When Satoru was fifteen, he no longer had a crush on Shoko. He doesn’t know if he ever actually liked her or if he just liked the fact that she was so close to you. Satoru found himself missing the friendship you had, wondering how he could get it back. It had been three years since it came to an end. He didn’t know how to get that friendship back. During the summer, he did the same thing that he did when he was eight years old: picked lilies from his mother’s garden and gave them to you. That was the second time that you got flowers.
“Hey!” Satoru yelled when he spotted you walking around the backyard. It confused you because Satoru doesn’t talk to you anymore.  What confused you even more was Satoru holding two flowers from his mother’s garden. He walked up to you, and you stared, trying to figure out what he’s planning.
“Mr. Gojo… What do you need?” You asked him. He extended his arm, attempting to hand you the flowers. But you didn’t take them.
“I want to apologize. I haven’t been… the best person to you. You were my best friend for seven years and now I don’t even know your interests. All because I listened to some stupid boys.” He said, and you pouted. You took the flowers from him before you wrapped your arms around him. “I miss you as my friend.”
“I miss you too, Satoru.”
A friendship formed again, but it wasn’t quite like the one you had ten years ago.
When Satoru was sixteen– Sixteen was a weird year for Satoru. He had gotten his friendship with you back, yet it was awkward. Not because you missed being friends with each other for three years, but more because Satoru had some weird feelings toward you. He thought it was just tension because of his past behavior, but he realized how upset he got when Suguru confessed that he had a crush on you.
“Why do you even like her?” Satoru immediately asked, his blood boiling. The moment those words left his lips, Satoru knew that the reason everything was so weird was because he liked you. When he was sixteen, Satoru finally realized he liked you.
When Satoru was seventeen, he fell in love. He fell in love with the way you expressed yourself, the way you dressed, your interests. He loved the way your face lit up whenever he asked about what you liked. The way you excitedly spoke and stumbled over words. It’s creepy to even say that he loved the way you smelled. Yet Satoru never bothered to confess, scared to be rejected, also because his best friend still liked you.
When Satoru turned eighteen, he got tipsy on his birthday. Even though he invited you to the party, you didn’t show up. You chose to spend the night with your mother because in the end, you wouldn’t fit in with Satoru and his friends. 
He wasn’t having the fun he planned on having, he was just thinking about you. He knew you were around, but he didn’t want to drag you out of your room to spend time with people you don’t like that much. He debated on not celebrating at all, but then he realized how suspicious it’d end up being. He didn’t want you to realize how he liked you. 
His plan was to move on past it all, although it was hard because he was literally so in love with you. The thought of you with anyone else made him sick. He just didn’t know how to tell you, fearful of rejection. He tried to have fun, drinking along with his friends. 
“Satoru, where are you going?!” Suguru yelled as Satoru began to walk away from everyone else, heading to the servants’ quarter. Suguru thought about following him, but he stayed behind when he was approached by some of his friends. Satoru just had a single thought in mind. You.
He remembered your mother’s room clearly, it was the third door to the left. He was about to knock, but he paused. Then he heard your voice, and he wondered if he was hallucinating until he turned and saw you.
“That’s not my room anymore. My mom asked your mother if I could have a separate room… Around five years ago.” You told him as he slowly walked towards you. You stood confused because he didn’t bother to speak. Until his hands cupped your face and he looked down at you. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.” He began, and you looked up at him– At first utterly confused. But it hit you. Pretty quickly you realized why Satoru was so distant. You then thought that you were thinking way too highly about yourself, especially when the breath of alcohol passed your nose. 
“Satoru… You’re drunk. You should go to bed. I can tell everyone else to go home.” You offered while Satoru smiled.
“Drunk? No way. Maybe just a little tipsy.” He dragged out his words and you’d be laughing if his hands weren’t on your face. He forced you to look at him, and his face got closer and closer to yours. “I just want to kiss you right now.”
“You’re really confident.” You responded. Satoru has never exerted this type of confidence before. 
“May I kiss you?” He questioned, and your face got warm at his question. Your gaze lingered on his glossy pink lips, and you wanted to accept. But you knew better because Satoru isn’t in his right state of mind. Maybe he wasn’t drunk but he was definitely leaning more toward being drunk than sober. 
“You’re not thinking straight.” You said. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Satoru. I can put you to bed.”
“I’m not a child– I know what I’m doing.” He answered. He licked his lips, while he continued to look down at your lips. “Please.”
“Why would you even want to do that?” You asked, blinking slowly as you watched Satoru. Satoru bit down on his lip as he tried to come up with an answer. Maybe he’s tipsy, but he isn’t dumb enough to humiliate himself like– He’s no better than that.
“Because I love you. I love you so much.” And with that, Satoru kissed you. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was for sure the most memorable one of his life. He knew he’d regret it the next day, but he couldn’t live his life without at least having kissed your sugary soft lips once in his lifetime. Even if everything ended up awkward between the two of you.
When Satoru turned eighteen, he ruined his friendship with you. But in the end, it all worked out. He ruined his friendship because you ended up as his girlfriend instead, which is more than he could’ve asked. At eighteen, Satoru got his greatest gift.
And now, Satoru is twenty-one, thinking about proposing to his girlfriend. You’re no longer eighteen, so of course a lot of things have changed. Instead of staying in the Gojo house, you’re now hours away at college, while Satoru finishes a useless degree at the best university in the world. 
He’s so close to finishing his degree, but time seems endless when he’s in a different country from you. He can’t wait till he gets to wake up each morning next to you, it feels like that day isn’t soon enough.
“How’s school, baby? Nothing too stressful I hope.” Satoru says, looking at the small device in front of him that displays your face. It really does you no justice. He’d give just about anything to be with you right now, but he’ll be flying you out soon so you’ll spend some quality time together. The more time you spend apart, the more romantic your reunion ends up being.
“Annoying. Boring. Stressful.” You list, and he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see you, baby. It’s what motivates me nowadays.”
“Aw, I’m flattered. It’s the same with me though. I’m just thinking about you all day and night. I can’t wait to see your pretty little face.” He tells you.
“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?” You respond, and he ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. Every time you call each other, you talk on the phone for hours, and Satoru never gets bored of it. Usually, the call ends with one of you falling asleep, and this time it ended up with you falling asleep.
“I love you.” Satoru says, his eyes droopy as he hangs up the call. He smiles, thinking about spending the rest of his life with you. He can’t wait to propose, just thinking about giving you the ring he bought for you. 
He succumbs to slumber, not hearing as the phone rings. He doesn’t return the call the next day either, assuming that his parents don’t have anything important to say. They never do.
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Satoru waits eagerly at the airport, his eyes looking around to find his love with her luggage. You texted him when you were on the plane, and texted him once you landed, so it’s now a matter of time for him to find you. He anxiously glances at his phone every thirty seconds, waiting for you to send him a text. He’s hoping that you’re okay and you haven’t gotten lost.
“Satoru!” You yell, and Satoru’s eyes brighten up as a smile overcomes his face. He waits for you with open arms, and you run to wrap your arms around him. Two months since your last encounter, your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. He doesn’t want to pull away, but he knows he has to before he ends up doing something that he shouldn’t be doing in an airport. 
“My love, how was your flight?” He asks, taking the luggage from your hands so you can walk without having to carry anything heavy. You begin to walk toward the elevator.
“It was good. There was a baby crying the whole way here though, I was a bit annoyed not gonna lie.” You share, and Satoru almost laughs, but he feels as if it’d end up insensitive. He offered to get his parents’ jet, but you refused. You don’t want to shove the relationship in their faces, knowing that they don’t like you– His father does, however, Mrs. Gojo doesn’t.
“You have all day to rest. But tomorrow we have our schedule all packed.” Satoru says, causing you to groan. You get into the elevator and Satoru clicks on the third floor to go to the floor he parked at.
“I’ve barely landed and you’re already making me think about work–”
“It’s not work if it’s fun… Unless you don’t like getting massages.” He cuts you off, and you quickly change your mind. You were wrong. “You know I’m not going to make you work while you’re with me. Ever.”
“Then why am I getting a degree?” You question as the two of you exit the elevator and begin to walk to Satoru’s car. 
“To kill time before you can officially become Mrs. Gojo.” He answers, and you fight back a smile as you think about the possibility of marrying Gojo. When you were thirteen, you liked him, but you thought that getting with him was impossible. Now he gets on your nerves because he can’t stop saying how much he loves you.
“Why do you think I’d change my last name?” You ask as he opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he leans down to peck your lips before he says,
“Why would you pass up on the opportunity of becoming Mrs. Gojo?” He replies, and before you can say anything, he closes the door. You weren’t going to say anything anyway, you don’t want to offend his mom by saying that you’re afraid that by getting the last name, you’ll end up like her. Satoru knows that his mother isn’t the easiest of the bunch and he often complains about her, but you doubt that he’ll like hearing you complaining about her.
You check your phone while Satoru puts your luggage in the trunk. You don’t have many messages except the ones from your mother asking you how the flight was. You begin to text her back while Satoru gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car.
“Are you hungry?” Satoru asks and you shake your head. “Are you sure? I don’t have anything that you can snack on at home.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” You answer. You know that Satoru frantically went shopping the previous day, and if he didn’t have anything, he’d order anything for you. He squeezes your thigh as he begins to drive.
“I just want to make sure you eat something before getting home. It’s an hour-long drive.” He informs you, and you still shake your head before you kiss his cheek.
“Thank you for caring about me.” You tell him. He grins from ear to ear. “Right now, all I want to do is take a nap.”
“You can nap while we drive back to my apartment. Then you can sleep for the whole afternoon.” He says, his hand caressing your thigh.
“I want to spend some time with you though.”
“We have all week to do that. Sleep a little bit.” He responds. You don’t have to hear him twice before your eyes shut and allow yourself to relax for the rest of the ride.
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When you wake up, you’re in Satoru’s soft bed, and the sun isn’t out anymore. You slept the whole afternoon. You were barely awake while walking from the car to the elevator, and from the elevator to his apartment. You fell asleep on Satoru’s couch, and he carried you to his bedroom.
You see light coming from the bottom of the door, and you stand up and walk towards the door. The aroma of the food he’s cooking fills up the area, and it brings you to smile, knowing that he’s cooking something up. He usually tells you about the great meals that he’s learned how to cook, and you never believe him. Every time you’re reunited, he’s usually back at his house so he can’t cook for you, but he finally has the opportunity to show off his skills, so he’ll do so.
You walk to the kitchen to find him cutting up some tomatoes for dinner. You walk over to him, trying to be as quiet as possible since he hasn’t noticed you yet. You love scaring Satoru, and you’ll take every chance you can take to do it. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind. He jumps up a little, startled. You kiss his shoulder before you say, “I was dreaming about you…”
“Really? Was I shirtless? I hope so.” He says, causing you to laugh. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“Good. I’m starving.” You tell him. “Where’s everything? I want to start setting the table.”
“You can sit down and watch some TV. You’re not lifting a finger this whole week.” Satoru tells you, and you certainly can’t complain. You never have had the chance to sit back and relax, and since your boyfriend wants to give you that opportunity, you’ll take it. “I still haven’t made reservations for tomorrow’s dinner, do you want anything specific?”
“I really haven’t thought about anything. You can pick.” You answer. You surf through channels, trying to find something that you’re entertained by, and when you finally find the right one, Satoru announces,
“Everything is set. You can come now.”
You stand up and walk over to the table and take a seat. You look at the food and your stomach growls at the sight, causing Satoru to chuckle. He serves your food while you comment on how delicious everything looks.
“I have so much for us planned.” Satoru shares as he passes you your plate. You begin to eat without waiting for him, simply too hungry to wait for him. He laughs, seeing how eager you are to eat. “I’m not sure if we’re going to do it all.”
“Why not?” You ask, genuinely curious.
“Do you really think we’re getting out of the house much when you’re not so tired?” Satoru asks, and you feel your face warm up. You sheepishly smile at him, then you focus on your food to try, trying to hide your embarrassment. He notices and tries to change the topic, “I’ll be visiting home soon too.”
“Really? I can’t wait. One week isn’t enough.” You say. “You should come by more often.”
“Staying home isn’t that fun, baby. First day is fine but then my mom gets annoying.” He responds. “When I move back I’ll get an apartment for the two of us. Or maybe a house so we can start a family right away.”
“A family? Aren’t we too young?” You question, and he chuckles. If only you knew all the plans he has already made in his head, all of them to be completed within five years. “Not that I’m opposed–”
“If it were up to me we’d get married tomorrow.” He interrupts you. “But of course, we have to give it some time. However, I’m not moving back till a year or so, you might change your mind then.”
“Really?” You respond. You love Satoru more than you could ever imagine loving someone, but you have a couple of other priorities that come before starting a family with him. “I’m not opposed to getting married soon, but I do think we should wait before starting to have kids and such. We’re still so young, even if it’s in a year.”
“Well–”
“Plus, your mother would probably want us to have a lavish wedding, even if she doesn’t like me. Lavish weddings take a long time to plan. We can’t have a child out of wedlock, can we?” You argue, and he ends up sighing defeated.
“You’re right, baby. You win.”
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Sunlight peeks in through the gap between Satoru’s curtains, and they hit you directly. You fell asleep without a problem last night, and now when the sun has barely risen, you’re awake. You feel a large arm wrapped around you, and smile as you hear Satoru’s heavy breathing. You take in his fresh, clean scent before you attempt to escape his embrace to begin getting ready for the day. But he doesn’t let go. He pulls you close to him, burying your face into his bare chest.
“Where are you trying to go?” He murmurs, barely comprehensible. “You’re not getting up from here until I’m ready to wake up as well.”
“I can’t just spend all day here in bed. You’re going to take a while to wake up.” You respond, yet he doesn’t let go. You’re not going to fight it, after all, Satoru is much stronger than you. You spend around five minutes, laying in bed, doing nothing before you tell him, “Toru… C’mon.”
“You’re really going to wake me up?” He replies while your fingertips begin to trace down his sculpted body. Your fingers feel featherlike running down his body, and it certainly doesn’t help keep him awake. That’s until your finger hooks on the waistband of his briefs. But you don’t do more than that. “Aren’t you going to continue?”
“Aren’t you sleeping? I don’t want to disturb you.” You say, and he grabs your hand, guiding it inside his briefs. Your hand wraps around his shaft and he begins to move it.
“I’m wide awake, baby.” He responds, and your hand begins to move at its own pace. He takes his hand out, moving it inside your pajama shorts to tease your clothed cunt. Your lips go up to meet his, your tongue pressing against his bottom lip before it enters his mouth. Your hand works ever so slowly on his shaft, and he’s groaning in your mouth. 
You pull away from the kiss and take your hand out, spitting on it before going back to stroke his dick. You’re slowly picking up speed, and Satoru moans with your every move. His mouth lands on yours again, trying to suppress the embarrassing sounds that escape his throat. He also pushes your panties to the side, two fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, while your tongue presses against his. 
Once he gets his fingers wet enough, he pushes them into your cunt. You moan into his mouth while he slowly begins to move his thick fingers in and out of you. This is what you miss most about being with Satoru, the fact that you’re left to play with yourself as if it could compare to what Satoru gives you.
Satoru curves his fingers so they hit just right, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you’re not focusing as much on stroking his cock. Satoru begins to thrust his hips, doing your job for you. You bite down his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss.
“Hmm– It’s so fucking good, ‘Toru.” You moan, holding your breath while his fingers work their magic. You shut your eyes and try to take it all in. You completely stop moving your hand, but Satoru gets himself off, he’s moaning as he approaches his release. You feel the pressure build up as your orgasm approaches. “I love it, baby– Fuck–”
“Moan my name, baby. It’s so pretty when it rolls off your tongue.” Satoru mutters in your ear, his low raspy voice nearly enough to make you come. You begin to moan his name over and over again as your orgasm looms closer and closer. 
You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t feel his cum that has soiled his briefs. Your hand stays wrapped around his cock while he makes sure to make you come. You get louder by the second until you finally come.
Satoru takes his fingers out and brings them up to your lips before he presses his fingers against them. You open your mouth and take his fingers in, and you begin to roll your tongue around them. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”
He takes his fingers out of your mouth and then shoves them into his mouth. You watch him, taking off your pants before you get on top of him, your knees on either side of him. He takes his fingers out of his mouth while he looks up at you. You begin to rub yourself on his briefs.
“I want more, ‘Toru.” You tell him, while his hands go to your hips. Your lips go down to meet his, pecking him a couple of times before he responds,
“Then takemore, baby. I’m all yours to use.” He responds before you push down his underwear. Your hand strokes his cock a couple of times before you push your panties to the side and you align his dick with your entrance.
You slowly lower yourself on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. If his fingers are long and thick, his dick is even better. You’ve been waiting for this for so long. You take as much as you can get before you begin to move up and down his cock, making the man groan.
“What a sweet little pussy. I’ve missed you so bad, baby.” He says while you bounce on his cock, your hands on his chest for support. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying not to be too embarrassingly loud. You don’t want the neighbors to get the wrong impression of you, “Have you missed me? The same way I’ve missed you?”
“So bad.” You respond. Satoru’s hands go to your ass, his nails digging into the flesh. He looks up at you, watching your facial expressions as you take it all in. “Been thinking about you nonstop, ‘Toru.”
“That’s what I like to hear from my girl.” He says as he spanks your ass. He begins to move for you, setting a much faster pace than the one you were going at. Your eyes shut as you take it all in. His hand goes to play with your clit, getting you to the edge even faster. His cock alone is enough to make you come, but he loves making you putty in his hands as fast as he can. “I really miss you so bad, baby. I need you to be on my side all the time.”
“Satoru–” You moan, not really paying attention to the words that leave his lips anymore. He’s just making you feel so good on his cock, hitting every right spot, your thoughts are forming anymore so you’ll agree with anything and everything Satoru says. Even when he says,
“I’ll just give you a baby so you’re forced to be with me. Wouldn’t you like that? Don’t you want to carry my baby?” And all you can manage to yell is, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ which brings a smirk to Satoru’s lips. “I’ll give you my baby. I’ll give you as many as you’d like.”
“Fuck–” You feel yet another orgasm take over, making you completely weak. Your nails dig into the skin of his chest while you’re on the edge of another orgasm. “Satoru, it’s so good.”
“I’m gonna give you my baby, make sure you’re stuck with me.” He continues, while you throw your head back. He feels your cunt tighten around him, and it drives him crazy. His voice is so whiny when he says, “Fuck… Baby… I need you by my side every day.”
“Satoru!” You loudly moan before you reach your orgasm, your legs spasming. Satoru praises you for it,
“Making a mess all over my cock… Oh, you’re such a good girl.” His hand smacks your ass again while you realize how much you love being praised, especially when what you’re doing is already giving you so much pleasure. 
Satoru chases his release, and he gets so close to it with every movement. Your pussy feels so nice and warm around him… He doesn’t want to finish any time soon, he just wants to stay buried inside of it for the next six days. But that doesn’t stop the fact that he’s so close to finishing. “I’m gonna give it all to you, baby. Gonna give you my baby.”
He mutters a couple of words about knocking you up, making sure that you’re by his side for the rest of your lives before you feel the warmth in your cunt. His seed fills you up while your head falls onto his chest. 
You both try to catch your breaths, his hand running up and down your back. He remains buried inside of you, and he won’t take it out unless you ask him to. 
For a moment you just lay down, listening to each other breathe. But your stomach growls, and you feel your face get warmer than it already is, but this time of embarrassment. You speak, “We should eat something for breakfast.”
“Let’s wait for another five minutes.” 
And while you two wait, Satoru’s phone rings. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and he rolls his eyes before declining the call.
“Who is it?” You ask him. You heard his phone ring a couple of times the previous night, and each time he declined it. You genuinely wonder who it is, and you doubt that Satoru is seeing another woman so infidelity is not on your mind. He loves you too much.
“Just my mom. You know how annoying she can be.”
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Satoru has shown you that he loves you a million different ways, but this, this by far is the best way that he has expressed his love. You get a pedicure and also a manicure. Satoru sits right next to you, also getting a pedicure. You commented how you were thinking of going to the nail salon before coming to visit him, but you didn’t plan it out. So here you are because your boyfriend is attentive.
He’s also having the time of his life as his feet get massaged. You exchange a few words every now and then, but neither of you is really in a talking mood. Until Satoru asks, “Where do you want to go for dinner? I still haven’t thought of any place.”
“I haven’t either.” You answer. “You should be the one to take me somewhere since you know the area.”
“I guess you have a point…” He responds, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s indecisive and he’s scared he’ll pick the wrong option. “But I planned this lovely day…”
“I think you can pick something else… It’s not a life or death decision, you just have to pick a restaurant. You couldn’t even help me pick a nail color, it’s the least you could do.” You tell him, and he chuckles before his eyes glance at your pink nails.
“I told you that you should do blue. You just didn’t want to listen.” He argues, and you laugh in response because he’s right. He did try to help you pick a nail color, he just didn’t pick one that you liked enough. “But fine, I can–” He unintentionally kicks his foot during his foot massage. He apologizes before he continues talking, “I can pick a restaurant.”
“I can’t wait for the massage…” You change the topic, and he hums in agreement. His phone begins to ring again, and he looks at the phone only to decline the call again. You look over at him and furrow your eyebrows before asking, “Your mom again?”
“She’s more annoying than ever. It’s like she knows that you’re here.”
“Maybe it’s something important. You should pick up the phone.” You say and he shakes his head. 
“I just want to have a relaxing day with you, and she’ll ruin that. I’ll call her tonight.”
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When you get back to Satoru’s apartment, you’re rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and begin getting ready for dinner. Satoru told you that he barely managed to get reservations at a nearby restaurant and that it’s one of the best restaurants in town. He told you the dress code, and you’re worried that you won’t have anything in your suitcase that fits.
Satoru thinks about joining you, sitting on the edge of his bed. It’ll slow you two down and possibly make you late, but that’s a risk that he’s more than willing to make. He thinks about it for a moment, until he ultimately decides that you can always eat somewhere else. He takes off his clothes as he walks to the bathroom, more than ready to delay today’s plans. He walks into the steamed-up room and sneakily makes it into the shower.
You’re spooked when you feel two hands land on your chest, and he squeezes your breasts. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed before you say, “Next time make sure to announce that you’re joining me or I might just die.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Satoru says before he pecks your lips. He’s stepping forward, making you step back until the water is no longer hitting you and your back is pressed against the wall. “Since you don’t care about where we go for dinner, we might as well change plans last minute.”
“We can make it fast.” You respond before his lips land on yours. His tongue presses against yours while his hand feathers down your body until they reach your pussy. His fingers run through your folds while he pulls away from the kiss and moves down to your neck. He begins to suck on your sweet spot while he slips a finger into your cunt. A moan leaves your lips when he does so, and because he sucks on that sweet spot in your neck that’s enough to drive you wild.
He continues kissing down your body while he inserts another finger into your cunt. Just like earlier in the day, he curves them so they hit just the right spot, and you’re rolling your eyes. He’s on his knees, and his tongue begins to lick your cunt.
He focuses on your clit, and you have you bite your bottom lip so you’re not too loud. His tongue flicks your clit just right, and you’re barely able to stand. 
“You’re doing such a good job.” You praise him, your eyes shutting as one hand grips his hair. Satoru eagerly licks, loving the taste on his tongue. God, he fucking hates the fact that you’re in a completely different timezone than he is. He really wants you by his side at all times. 
He takes his fingers out and his tongue stops flicking your clit. His tongue moves down and it enters your cunt. His thumb begins to play with your clit while he moves his tongue around, and you’re not able to hold back your moans anymore. You feel your orgasm approach, and you grab a handful of his hair, pulling it. He doesn’t even notice, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue.
“Fuck– I’m gonna come…” You tell him. His thumb works on your clit so well, and you praise him for it, which serves as his encouragement. He looks up at you, so adoringly, but you’re not looking at him. You get louder and louder until you finally come on his tongue. He takes his tongue out and kisses your clit before he stands up and kisses your lips.
You’re about to get on your knees and return the favor, but you both hear Satoru’s phone ring. He’s about to ignore it again, letting his mother get tired of calling, but the phone keeps ringing and ringing that it makes you say, “It must be important, ‘Toru. Go pick it up.”
“It’s probably nothing–” He begins but you cut him off.
“She’s very insistent, Toru. She’ll continue calling through dinner. Just check what she wants and I’ll finish my shower.” You peck his lips and he sighs in response before getting out, grabbing a towel, then grabbing his phone. 
“Hi mom.” He greets her, a little too unenthusiastic for her liking. First, she asks where he has been and he responds, “I’ve just been resting after so many exams. I need to relax once in a while, y’know?”
“Your father is sick. Very sick.” His mother says, which makes the man freeze. “I’m not sure if he has much time left… He just suddenly– I don’t know.”
“What– I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.” Satoru responds, hanging up the call before he barges into the bathroom. You’re getting out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap it around yourself and Satoru announces, “We have to go back home tomorrow.”
“Oh? Why?” You ask, following behind him while he goes to his closet to begin packing essentials; he doesn’t need much since he has pretty much all he needs back at his house. “Satoru, is everything okay? Why do we have to go back so soon?”
“My dad is… sick.” Satoru says, slowly realizing the gravity of it all. His dad has never been sick, from what he can remember. He wonders how he’s so sick and how horrible it has to be for his mother to call. He sincerely thinks of the worst, and he hopes that in the end, everything ends up okay with his father. “I’m sorry for ruining your vacation but… If she’s calling me, it’s because it’s bad.”
“No, no. It’s okay, Satoru. He should be your priority.” You respond before going back to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable since your plans have clearly changed, and to pack up your suitcase once again. You didn’t expect your week to be over so soon.
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“Dad…” Satoru says, barging into his parents’ room. Satoru paid for the next available flight and you flew out. Now you’re both at his parents’ house since you’re still on vacation and you’re not planning to go back to your apartment near your university yet. You’re with your mother, while Satoru sees his father to figure out just how bad it is. 
He walks over to the bed where his father lies. His father isn’t looking too well, he looks so pale and exhausted. He’s definitely lost some weight too. Satoru walks to his father’s side before he sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you holding up? Mom didn’t tell me about you being sick before–”
“I asked her not to.” His father cuts him off. “I want you to focus on your studies so you can take over as fast as possible.”
“For how long have you been sick?” Satoru asks. This clearly isn’t something new, it was just kept from him. His father is rarely around, even when Satoru is visiting, so he never had the chance to see just how  his health deteriorated.
“That doesn’t matter now, does it?” His father responds. “It doesn’t matter, really. I want to hear about you, Satoru. I know nothing about your life except that you were friends with one of the maids’ daughters.”
“Yeah…” Satoru chuckles, unsure of how to talk about it. His mother knows about the relationship, but he hasn’t talked to his father about it yet. Truth be told, he didn’t tell his mother, she just figured it out. “We’re not really friends anymore… She’s my girlfriend.”
“I know…” His father confesses with a chuckle before he begins to cough. He reaches for his handkerchief and covers his mouth. After a minute, he stops and his father grabs his glass of water and chugs majority of it before he speaks again, “I knew you two would end up together the moment you begged me to pay so she could go to school with you. That’s why I offered to pay for her college.”
“Wait, you’re paying for her college?” Satoru is taken aback by this but his father shakes his head.
“No. She turned me down. Told me I had already done enough.” His father shares, which makes Satoru wonder why you would say no to him, but it’s fine. It’s nothing too bad, he would’ve appreciated you sharing him though, “I like her. I don’t believe in love or soulmates all that much, but then I remember on your eighteenth birthday when I caught you two kissing, and maybe, I believed in love.”
“You don’t believe in love, dad?” Satoru questions, as he realizes this is about the most that he’s spoken to his father. He knew that his father and mother never really loved each other, at least not romantically. He realized it when he was around fifteen, but he didn’t expect to hear it from his father ever.
“I loved my father. My mother. You, ‘Toru. The day you were born was my happiest day, you were my little boy. But I never loved your mother in any type of way.” He confesses, and Satoru just inhales, swearing that he’ll never live like that. He can’t imagine living his life without you. “I appreciate her. She’s a very smart woman that’s kept everything afloat. She gave me you and I could never thank her enough for that. But apart from that, I never grew to love her. She’s a cold woman, and I wasn’t made to love a woman like that.”
Satoru just bites his bottom lip, unsure of what to say at his father’s confession. He expected something similar, but he still doesn’t like the confirmation that his parents were stuck in a loveless marriage. He hates knowing the fact because his father is on the brink of death and he’s probably never experienced love– That he knows of. Satoru often forgets that his father lives a whole different life and that he knows none of the details.
“How did you see me kissing– Oh.” Satoru begins and realizes quickly why his father was in the servants’ quarters. “Please don’t tell me it was–”
“Wasn’t with her mother. Don’t worry. She’s not my type.” His father assures Satoru, which somewhat helps him but still grosses him out. Satoru decides to change the topic, about to confide with at least one parent because he knows that his mother wouldn’t approve.
“I’m thinking about proposing to her soon.” He brings up, and his father grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, so I don’t think I should waste too much time. She wants to get engaged after we both graduate.”
“Do what you think is best. Just hold tight to her and don’t let her go.”
“I love you, dad.” Satoru holds back tears as he hugs his father. His father hugs him back, patting Satoru’s back.
“I love you too, son.” His father responds, and he believes that it’s the first time he hears those words leave his father’s lips. He hates that he’s only heard this so late in life from his father, but he loves it, and he’s sure he’ll miss it.
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A month after coming back, you’re back at college and Satoru is at his parents’ house, patiently waiting for the horrible day. He accepted his father wouldn’t make it, so he made sure to savor every moment. He’s barely talking to you, and you understand that he’s upset, so he’s distant. You still try to check up on him as much as you can, even when he barely tries to communicate. 
One April night, right at midnight, your phone rings, waking you up. It’s Satoru, and your heart drops knowing why he’s calling. He calls you sobbing, and you try your best to calm him down. While you do so, you begin to get changed to head to his place, which is hours away but you’ll get there before sunrise.
“I’ll get there in a few hours, baby. Try to get some rest.” You tell him before you hang up the phone. And just as you promised you were in his house within hours, hugging him as he cried. He finally fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep shortly after. 
Around six in the morning, he randomly wakes up, and you wake up as well. He pecks your lips before he says, “I want to marry you.”
“I want to marry you too.” You answer. Things change up and he becomes the big spoon before you both fall asleep again. Satoru is woken up and he sees his mother in the doorway, enraged at the sight.
“Satoru! My office, now!” She yells, and he’s forced to get up and follow behind his mother, who has taken the loss of her husband quite well.
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After his father’s funeral, you go back to college and try to check up on Satoru as much as possible. He’s more distant than ever. He isn’t bothering to even text you back anymore, which you understand since he needs time to process everything. 
A month after everything, you receive a call from Satoru out of nowhere. You think that he’s slowly going back to normal, and you exit the bathroom to calmly take the call. When you pick up the phone, you immediately hear his gloomy voice,
“Hey…”
“Hi, baby. How have you been holding up?” You respond. The last time you received a text from him was three days ago. “Are you back–”
“I’m fine– Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He says. 
“Oh no. It’s fine. I’m glad to hear that you’re fine.”
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been feeling sick. I think I might be–” You begin but he cuts you off.
“I haven’t been feeling my best, and I think we should take a short break.” He says, and your heart drops. “I love you, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to be in a relationship.”
“Oh– Okay… Okay.” You feel the tears well up before you hang up the phone, not letting him say anything else. You doubt he has much to say anyway. You’re about to take a seat but then you remember the test in the bathroom, and you’re forced to walk back inside to read the results. 
You gasp, a tear escaping your left eye before you grab it and throw it in the trash.
You’ll wait before breaking the news to Satoru.
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@yeagerfushiguro @luckimoon @uhremmi @conniesbbymama @mykyoon @prettyiolanthe @mc-reborn @the-loneliest-girl @cloudsinthecosmos @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @yumihisusupremacy @blinkingsuns @oi-loverboy @Gojoismybitch @neireav @lilith412426 @goldfishesarecute @misshale21 @rivaiken @q-the-rockaholic @merlinssassybeard @ikilledsparky2 @abcde12345 @mimizsworld @jiwonchii @lily3847 @luckimoon @ryototsukai0824 @Stupendousexpertcheesecake @mrs-itadori
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jz12luvscl16 · 2 months
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Ribbon,Bicep,trend!!
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Summary : basically this trend with skz!but just a little change!
pairing: skz X gn!reader
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Bangchan
•you just come up to him with the trend randomly like he's just chilling in the living room and you just jump out of nowhere
•when you tell him the trend he just nods not even paying much attention until you pull him to record the video and he's like ???????
•and then you just show him the tiktok and tell him your gonna add changes to this! and go to grab the ribbon and your lipsticks!
•honestly he'll just look at you like just look at what your doing cause he still has no clue (he's a boomer)
•and then you tell him that I'll tie this ribbon Nd I'll kiss your bicep! cause it'll make the video look more aesthetically pleasing 🫶😎🎀
•"oh" that's all Chan has to say :] "well what about you kiss my Face too ? ;]" "your face won't be in the video chann!" (>:[ sad chan)
•he just sits on the bed and he's looking at you applying the lipstick like :) patiently waiting for you :)))
•and when you're done you walk up to him sit next to him and just start kissing his bicep and he's like🥴 smiling and blushing like craaaazzzyyyyyyyyyyy
•you tie the ribbon around his Bicep and get your phone
•and well he's trying his best to maintain a serious face but he can't when he's blushing so hard from looking at the lipstick stains!
•and yes he breaks the ribbon in first try and your like :o! and he's just smiling and flexing his muscles!
•and when you post the video it blows up! cause its so cute! you can see Chan smiling like crazy!
Minho
•you both were laying in the bed on a Sunday afternoon scrolling your phones and then you found the trend and you were like WE NEED TO DO THIS THATS SO CUTE!I WANNA DO IT OMGGGG!
•You then look at Minho with 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and he's like no.
•after an hour of pleading begging whinning and throwing tantrums he finally said "okay *Sigh* yeah whatever lets do it 🙄"
•acts like he's annoyed by your begs and everything but internally smiling because he just loves when you beg or whine!
•you kneel sitting beside him as you kiss his bicep as he just looks at you with a smirk. his ears slowly turning red-ish in colour
•and you tell hi! the trend and bring the ribbon and lipsticks and he's just sitting on the edge of the bed like😮‍💨 "can't you be quick you're wasting my time" and your like 😐😒😒
• you tie the ribbon around his bicep and turn on the camera"lets see how much musculos you got huh?!😎" and he's like " whatever I can pick you up with just my hand"
•well breaks the ribbon on the 3rd try and your like "weak musculos!"
•and he just pulls you and you fall on the bed! he climbs on top of you and throws your phone to a side. "what did you just say huh?" as he smirks. rest lies in mystery
• well when you upload the video the stays go BOOMBOOMBOOOOMMM "GIRL I WANNA KISS THAT BICEP SO BAD" "I WANNA RECREATE BUT THE ONLT PERSON I HAVE JS DELULU" and your like 🤷🤷🤷😎😎🎀😭😭🫶
ChangBin
•so you tell him the trend and he'll be sooo happy and excited cause he knows he'll break the ribbon he got those huge muscles 💪🏻.
•and when you tell him that you'll kiss his bicep he's like even more happy!!!
•he will sit on the edge of bet acting like a crazy teenage girl in love like he'd be soo sooo soooo excited!!
•like out of all of the members I think he'll be the most happiest and excited member for this trend!!
•and you apply the lipstick when you kiss his bicep he's like "🥺can I have a kiss here too"pointing at his lips and you're like awww but no!
•he goes 😽😽 when he looks at the stains on his bicep as you tie the ribbon!
•And you start recording AND OFCOURSE HE BREAKS IT IN FIRST TRY! And he's obviously gonna proudly show off his muscles!
•AFTER YOU POST IT HE'S SURELY GONNA GO LIKE DID YOU SEE Y/N'S NEW TIKTOK???!!
HyunJin
•he and his dramatic ass I swear he'll go from an asshole to a whole romantic person who'd look at you with literally heart eyes
•sooo you goo to him with the idea and he'll firstly give you the side eyeing and you're like hold on stop with your eyes.
•you just go and grab the stuff until he's done with his attitude! and when you come back he's looking at what your're doing like😃😃
•complains about the lipstick shade because "the colour is not good enough to be on his bicep"
•you come back with another lipstick shade and he's like no not this one and you repeat this like until you just bring the whole box of lipsticks to him!
•and when he finally selects the "perfect shade" he tells you to apply this with a satisfactory smile
•you just look at him like I'm so done with his spoiled ass and just apply the lipstick
•you pull his arm a little closer and start to kiss his arm and he'll just admire you like literally he'll just have so much love for you he'll look at you with so much love like omg!
•and when you're done you tie the ribbon and grab your phone to start recording
•and he'll be like yeah that's too easy until he tree his best to break the ribbon well after like somewhat 4-5 tries he breaks it 😭🫶
HanJisung
•so you come to him like excitedly jumping like OMG OMG THIS TREND IS SOOO CUTEE LETS DO THIS HAN! HAN HAN HEAR ME OUT OKAY OMGGG!
•Like my lady chill out my man is just so confused cause he was literally laying down on the bed like he has no idea what you're talking about
•like he's so confused like SERIOUSLY HE IS IN ANOTHER WORLD AMD COME EXPLODING LIKE OMGG
•when he comes back to the world and you calm down a little you'll tell him the idea!
•and when you reached to the kissing part he instantly said yes like you were halfway through explaining and he was like yeah let's do it Right Now
•come on like he's so inlove with you and he loves the idea of showing you off to the world cause you're his, like any chance he gets he'll show you off! (cause he has the greatest and the prettiest s/o)
•you apply you're lipstick and come to him. he'll just get so carried away like he'll pull you to kiss him instead of kissing his bicep!!😭
•you somehow managed to stain his arm and tie the ribbon and record the tiktok and he breaks the ribbon on first try
•well you dont know about the tiktok but yeah you're for sure cuddled up with him after recording!
LeeFelix
•i think he's the least dramatic member out off all of the!m like he'll simply just do the tiktok without any tantrums or drama like yeah he's a good boy 😭
•so you walk up to him and you go like "hey you wanna do this tiktok-" "yeah I'm in"
•and you're like okay Les do it and start to apply the lipstick
•you come back to him and stain his arm and he's just smiling like the cutiehe is
•you tie the ribbon and start to record
•well you both just end up laughing at his attempts to try to break the ribbon well that was not the plan but you still posted it cause it was very cute!
•and people blast you with comments like "aww felix and s/o are so cute🫶🥺🎀" "omg! I love the way you both are so happy together!" "do more trends it's so cute"
Seungmim
•seumgmin will just say no to you like instantly
•you come up to him and tell him about this tiktok- and he was like "No" as soon as he hears tiktok he said no
•you were like pleaseeeeeeee 🥺🥺🥺 and yet pleading for like an hour he still says no
•so you stare at him and grab the pink ribbon and when he wasn't paying attention you tied him fully. you tied his arms aNd waist so he could not use them!
•he looks at you like 😒😒"let me go you kidnapper" you just look at him with a evil smile as you run and get your lipstick
•you apply the lipstick and start to kiss his face and then the neck and then his hands. painting his body with lipstick stains!
•he'll instantly blush he'll try to hide his smile but he says while laughing "Hey stop it! what are you doing" he loves it but wont say it!
•and then you post a video captioning "this is what you get when you don't agree with me!" and the tiktok just BLASTS LIKE SERIOUSLY CAUSE IT WAS SO SO SO SOVSOSOOOOOOOOOO CUTE OMGGG!
Jeongin
•so you both were cuddling and scrolling tiktoks and then you come across this trend and it really catches your eyes cause your boyfriend had those muscles and was super cute! so why tf not!?!
•you look at him and looks at you "can we 🥺" "alright*sigh*"
•so you go get the pink ribbon and a lipstick you apply it and come towards jeongin he looks at you and then at the ribbon
•you kneel next to his arm as you started to leave the kissstains and he is confused and so red like he's blushing hard! "hey-woah what are you doing?!" he says like shyly! blushy shy baby
•amd you're like I wanted to add kiss stains cause they'll look cute!😚🫶
•he will be so blushy the whole time! and you tie the ribbon and create the video! and it ofc hits!
•(and he without any effort easily breaks the ribbon)
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that's it I hope you liked it!
requests/asks open!
(English is not my first language)
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hannibaldjarin · 10 months
Text
Before the Upside Down, Steve Harrington could sleep like the dead. Once he laid his head on the checkered pattern pillow, Steve would be oblivious to anything happening in the world around him as he found solace in his dreams.
Steve would never admit it to Tommy H or Carol, but his dreams were his only safe place. In Steve's dream world, he wasn't the son to absent parents or the perfect King Steve; he was whatever version of himself that would've never been allowed around the Harringtons or the population at Hawkins High. Steve was comforted by the anonymity that was created as he slept till an alarm or the sunlight peeking through his curtains woke him.
Before the Upside Down, Eddie Munson would laugh as he told the rest of Corroded Coffin about how much he slept during the weekend. But, groan when Uncle Wayne stomped into his bedroom at 4pm wondering, "Boy, since when did you become a vampire?"
Basically, Eddie found it hilarious that he could sleep 16 hours a day and still go to bed at 9pm every night. One thing about Eddie Munson before that fated afternoon with Chrissy Cunningham, he could sleep like a corpse and never worry about sleep avoiding his clutches. Because as Uncle Wayne or a member of Corroded Coffin could tell anyone, Eddie loved to sleep and would theoretically kill anyone who tried to disrupt his slumber.
After the Upside Down, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington found solace in one another as they struggled to remember who they were before circumstances led them to emotional, mental, and physical scars. Steve could no longer find comfort in his dream world as it replayed his most traumatizing moments from the last couple of years. Eddie could no longer sleep like the dead since he actually knew what it felt like to lay limp and face death.
Eddie and Steve stare into one another's eyes as they share a pillow in Steve's massive bed. Eddie whispers to Steve about how envious he is of his past self as he dramatically recounts Uncle Wayne's stomps or Corroded Coffin's scoffs. As Eddie spoke, Steve wonders if Eddie could be trusted with his deepest secrets about who he wishes he could be.
As Eddie's giggles fade into the dark of the night, Steve clears in throat and begins to tell Eddie about the lack of safety he has felt since turning 12 and being handed bundles of money that were to be budgeted until his parents came back home from whatever business trip Jonathan Harrington needed to attend. Steve mumbles about Tommy and Carol, or anyone else, never being able to fill the hollow space that was this mausoleum of a house until Dustin Henderson hijacked Nancy's roses and forced Steve to go on a wild demo dog chase. With a smile that actually reaches Steve's eyes, he tells Eddie how he finally knew what a mutual love felt like when Robin refused to get a new job without Steve.
Eddie desperately wants to read between the lines and believe himself to be someone who brought something into Steve's life. The begging words he sends up to whatever universal force doesn't want to continue fucking his life are interrupted as Steve looks Eddie in the eyes and admits, "Eddie Munson, you brought light and noise into my life."
Steve Harrington never understood how significant it was to feel the sun on his skin until Eddie woke up from his coma after his encounter with the bats, and begged for the blinds in his hospital room to be opened. Eddie's smile changed as he adjusted to the new scars on his skin, but Steve has never seen something so beautiful in his life.
Steve flinched in noisy environments when he remembers how angry his father would get if Steve existed too loudly. But, since Eddie took Steve to the middle of nowhere and convinced him to just scream, Steve has found himself seeking out music that taught him to release his emotions instead of pushing them further and further down.
Steve Harrington finally found safety in the real world when Eddie Munson whispers, "Stevie, please let me kiss you."
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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months
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Remind Me - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley Bradshaw is one hell of an aviator. He's one of the best at what he does. You only wish the same could be said of his performance as your husband.
A/N: this is my first real attempt at angst but I ended up making it smutty and fluffy as well so there's that. I was inspired and got a little carried away. Inspired by Remind Me by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood.
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader
content/warnings: angst, allusions to cheating, allusions to divorce, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, Bradley being an unattentive husband bc he's clueless, fluffy ending.
word count: 4.6k
"Been so long that you'd forget, the way I used to kiss your neck Remind me, remind me So on fire, so in love, way back when we couldn't get enough Remind me, remind me"
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You pulled into the driveway of your beachfront home, the salty Californian breeze encompassing you as you turned the key in the front door, a bag of groceries nestled on your hip as you pushed the door open. A deafening silence came over you as you walked through the entryway, and you noticed that your husband, Bradley, was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t unusual for Bradley to fall asleep in front of the tv on a Sunday afternoon, the drone of sports commentary providing a backdrop to his nap, a neglected bottle of beer warming on the coffee table, condensation tracing its descent down the amber glass. However, today, the usual harmonic sounds of Sportscenter and Bradley's gentle snores was conspicuously absent, replaced by an eerie quiet that settled around you like a heavy blanket, an empty couch, and a note on your kitchen counter - Bradley’s idea of conveying information that wasn’t life or death - scribbled in his distinct, masculine penmanship. 
“Hey beautiful, be back soon, out for golf and beers with the boys - B.” 
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his predictable escapades, a mixture of annoyance and resignation washing over you. You let out a long huff as you set the groceries down on the counter, the rustle of paper bags echoing in the stillness of the kitchen. As you meticulously organized the contents into the fridge and pantry, your gaze fell upon the neglected stack of dirty dishes occupying the sink. Their number seemed to have multiplied since the previous night, despite Bradley’s assurances that he would take care of them. You had even reminded him earlier that morning, amidst sips of your morning coffee, only to receive a distracted hum and a vague nod as he scrolled through his phone, his attention elsewhere. This wasn’t anything new for you - Bradley often had a single tracked mind, unable to focus his attention on more than one thing at a time when he wasn’t in the cockpit of a plane, but lately, it felt like every conversation you tried to invoke was one-sided, with Bradley giving little more than a half-hearted “mhmm” in response, regardless of the topic.
As you closed the fridge, you noticed that your dry-erase calendar had a new date encircled in pink, with Bradley’s unmistakeable writing on display in the center. 
“Mission: 3 wks?” 
“Of course you have another fucking mission,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head.
The realization hit you like a freight train, slamming into your heart with a pang of unfairness. Bradley's profession demanded his constant departure and return, but the frequency of his missions seemed almost cruel, especially considering the fleeting moments of bliss you shared during his brief stints at home. Six weeks had barely passed since his last return, yet it felt as if his presence was unchanged from the way it had been when he was gone.
Between rigorous training sessions and endless briefings, Bradley sought solace in the camaraderie of his buddies – Jake, Reuben, and Mickey – the trio of bachelors who seemed to relish in their freedom. Their escapades ranged from impromptu drinks to leisurely rounds at the driving range, filled with a sense of masculinity and adventure that Bradley found himself longing to be a part of. Approaching the dreaded milestone of forty, he yearned for the carefree attitude he held in his youth, reminiscing about the exhilarating escapades of his twenties and earlier thirties - ending right around 36 years old when he met you.
In a bid to reclaim some form of that lost spontaneity, Bradley had tentatively ventured into his friends realm, seeking companionship in their revelries. Initially relegated to the role of designated driver, his latent talent for piano and penchant for serenading transformed him into the life of the party. What started as a sporadic outing soon morphed into a monthly ritual, then gradually escalated into a seemingly incessant cycle where every day not spent on base was dedicated to partying it up with "the boys"
As you sank into the welcoming embrace of the couch, enveloped by its plush cushions, a sense of desolation washed over you like a tidal wave. Clutching a pint-sized tub of ice cream to your chest, you sought solace in the flickering glow of the television, scanning through channels in a futile attempt to distract yourself from the gnawing ache within until Bradley came home. Settling on a marathon of romantic comedies on one of the dozens of channels that seem to play nothing but movies and reruns of old sitcoms, you blinked back tears as you watched the romance unfold on tv, all while feeling like your own was slowly dying.
It was three and a half hours later when Bradley finally came clattering through the door, a couple beers deep. You heard him clumsily kick his deck shoes off at the door, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood flooring as he walked down the hall with heavy steps. You did your best to ignore him, wanting to make it clear that you were upset, but not having the fight in you after three and a half hours of crying into a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream over Katherine Heigl and James Marsden and Reese Witherspoon and Josh Lucas and their romantic gestures, tender embraces and declarations of love and happily ever afters. You fixed your eyes on the tv as you caught sight of Bradley from the corner of your eye, his fluorescent pink golf shirt almost impossible to ignore. 
As Bradley's voice echoed through the living room, infused with a hint of playful banter, you felt a pang of resignation tugging at your heartstrings. His honeyed drawl, his sun-kissed glow and his almost blonde highlights cascading through his curls, created a striking contrast against the solemnity that enveloped the room. With sunglasses perched atop his head like a crown, Bradley sauntered into view, his caramel-colored eyes scanning the scene before him with a mixture of concern and confusion.
“Hey honey! When’d you get home? You watchin’ one of those chick flicks?”, he spoke with a playful tone, an underlying hint of apprehension lingering in the air. 
Ignoring his inquiry, you remained in your silence, your gaze fixed upon the flickering images on the television screen. Bradley's brow furrowed, the lines etching across his forehead as he searched for a clue amidst the sea of your emotions.
“Aw, I don’t mean chick flick in a bad way, baby, I’m just teasin’”, he continued, his voice laced with a soft plea for understanding. “Some of them aren’t so bad, you know, I like a couple of ‘em.” 
When he was once again met with silence, Bradley took a couple of steps closer to where you lay on the couch, moving his tall, six-foot-three, athletic frame into your line of view. You continued to focus on the tv, finding it nearly impossible to ignore the neon hue of Bradley’s polo shirt now, noticing how he’d paired it with a basic pair of khaki shorts and his Ray-Ban aviators that he never left home without. He knit his brows together as he watched you, his eyes wafting over to the now empty ice cream tub with a single spoon sitting inside, resting on the coffee table. He hummed softly - something he often did when he was trying to think, as a confused look started forming on his face.
“Baby, come on, what’s bothering ya?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, “Did I do somethin’? ‘Cause if I did, I’m sorry for whatever it is.”
“You aren’t,” you finally responded, not breaking eye contact with Ryan Gosling as he appeared on the tv. 
“I’m not what, babe?”
“Sorry. You’re not sorry. You never are sorry.”
“Honey, I’m not following ya.”
You huffed and shook your head as you sat up on the couch, wiping your eyes as you felt the hot tears stinging them once again as they threatened to make a return. A raw aching feeling built up within you as you took a deep breath, preparing to have the conversation you’d been dreading for who-knows-how-long. You looked down at your wedding band for a moment, the sight of it nearly enough to trigger painful sobs as you braced yourself for what was about to transpire between you and your husband.
“You’re not sorry. You’re never home because you choose to never be home. You’re not sorry for it. It’s like you don’t want to be around me, Bradley,” you started slowly, shaking your head as the tears began to fall.
“Baby, hang on-” Bradley begins before you cut him off. 
“Look, Bradley, if you’re unhappy-”
“Unhappy? Baby, no, I could never be unhappy with you, what are you talking about?” Bradley cooed, kneeling down beside the couch as he brushed your hair behind your ear in a tender gesture to ermphasize his point.
“Are you seeing other women when you go out with the guys?” You say bluntly, giving Bradley a stare that practically burns right through him.
“What?! Honey, I think you’re getting the wrong idea here.”
“It’s really not that far-fetched, Bradley. You’re always wanting to go out with your only single friends, you constantly go out to play wingman with them at bars to help them get laid, then when you’re home, you never listen to me, it’s like I may as well be talking to myself most of the time. I only seem to see you if you’re hungry or asleep and that’s only because you can’t boil water to save your life and our bed is the only one in the house that always has clean sheets on it.”
“Babe, I don’t know who the fuck you think you married-” Bradley protested.
“Oh, really? Mr. “Didn’t-get-married-until-he-was-38-because-he-liked-picking-up-girls-in-bars-better? Wasn’t it because that was more convenient for you? Because then you’d never have a “little lady back home to worry about” whenever you went away?”
“That was before I met you, the minute I met you, I stopped wanting to do any of that bullshit. Our first date, I knew I wanted to marry you, honey.”
“That doesn’t mean that’s how you feel now, does it?! I mean, Christ’s sake, Bradley, when was the last time you even kissed me?! Let alone had sex with me, for fuck’s sake. I thought you wanted to try having kids soon once you got your promotion settled,” you said as your voice cracked, shaking your head. 
“Honey, please,” Bradley began pleading, shaking his head. 
You abruptly stood up from the couch, walking away from him and heading towards the kitchen. You opened the fridge, conveniently using the door to block Bradley from your sight, your anger towards him boiling towards the edge now. You grabbed yourself a drink and cracked the top off with the bottle opener, slamming the fridge door shut. Bradley held his hands up in defense as he looked at you, an expression of complete astoundment on his face.
“Baby, I may not be the smartest man out there, but I’m not unfaithful, you know that. I know you know that deep down.” 
“Bradley, I don’t know what I know anymore. I used to know that you loved me too, but that doesn’t seem to hold true.”
“What are you talking about?! Honey, you know that I love you.”
“Do I?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Sweetheart, I’ve never loved anyone like I do you. I know showing it isn’t my strong suit - I never got to see much of an example other than pictures of my folks, but I know damn well that I look at you the same way my dad looked at my mom. And I know that I’ve never, in the four years since we started dating, ever, as much as entertained the idea of being with another woman. I married you. Remember? You were there. Better or worse, sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part, all that?”
“It’s pretty easy to vow to love someone for better or for worse when you’re never fucking around, isn’t it, Bradley?!”
“Well forgive me for fighting for our fucking country, Honey. What, you want me to just walk away from my duty?”
“Your country and your boys come before your wife, do you not see how fucked up that is?”
“You come first, always. I work as hard as I do at work for you. I try to work my ass off to get promotions and be leader on missions so I can make sure you’re taken care of. So that if anything ever happened to me, you’d be set, you’d never have to worry about a thing.”
“I don’t want that! I want you. You could pump gas for a living or be a lifeguard on the beach for all I fucking care. All I know is, the man I married isn’t here anymore, and I don’t know where he went or why.”
Bradley shook his head angrily and scoffed. His face began to turn red as he narrowed his eyes, beginning to talk with his hands. 
“I’m the same fucking guy! Babe, is this seriously because I went golfing this afternoon?”
“No, Bradley, it’s because you’ve been home for six weeks and you haven’t as much as kissed me since you got home off the last mission, and I just saw that you put a new three week one on the calendar. You leave in 10 days and you didn’t even tell me! What, were you just going to fuck off and go when it came and not say a word?”
An awkward hush fell over the two of you, echoing throughout the house. Bradley looked to his feet, remaining quiet as he shook his head. He sighed loudly and pressed his hand to his forehead before looking up at you again. 
“Honey, believe me, I only found out this morning, I was going to tell you…but,” He frowns as he realizes why he didn’t tell you. “But then Jake called, and I wanted to blow off steam about it, so I agreed to hit a few holes with him. But, Baby, I swear to you, I am the exact same Lieutenant Bradshaw who asked you out on a date four years ago. Remember? I almost missed a briefing just to talk to you. Nearly got my ass in trouble for it, but you were worth every second.”
You looked up at Bradley, sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip as you shook your head, almost in disbelief as you remembered how you and Bradley had met. 
You were visiting Coronado for the day, your first trip over the San Diego Bay since moving to the city from Colorado Springs. The sun had been shining as you strolled through the picturesque town on the Pacific coast. Bradley had been walking up to one of the dozens of restaurants that scattered the main strip for lunch with a couple of his comrades, dressed in his khaki uniform as he waited in line for his food, his tanned skin and broad shoulders catching your eye almost immediately. He flashed a smile at you, and in that moment, you’d managed to forget your own name, completely entranced by the man in front of you. 
From there, Bradley had asked you to sit with him for lunch, leaving his friends behind at a nearby picnic table. The two of you had so much fun simply talking that he didn’t realize the time, or that his friends had already left, and that he had to be back on base for a briefing in 10 minutes. He’d quickly exchanged numbers with you and practically sprinted back to his car - a 1972 Ford Bronco in pristine condition, something you remembered about him immediately, a detail you’d found yourself looking for on your outings in the downtown core of San Diego, in case he’d made the trip to your side of the bridge for some reason. 
A week later you were on a second date, and from there, your relationship became official soon after, with a marriage proposal happening on your first anniversary when Bradley arrived home from a mission. He saw you waiting for him on base, standing there in a pale blue sundress, looking even more beautiful than he’d remembered when he left a few weeks prior. He ran up to you, picking you up and swirling you around as he held you close, kissing you more passionately than he’d ever done before. No sooner than he put you back down, he dropped to one knee and asked you to be his wife, and you said yes, without an ounce of hesitation. 
“Bradley,” you sighed sadly, shaking your head as you looked up at him. 
“Honey, I swear to you, from the day that I asked you to sit down for lunch with me, I have never even looked at another woman. All I ever do for the guys when we go out is offer to talk to a girl on Jake’s behalf after he fucks it up and I have to go explain that his brain stopped maturing once he hit about age 15 when it comes to women. He thinks with his dick sometimes and gets his dumbass in trouble. I just go smooth it over so he doesn’t get a kick to the nuts or arrested for something stupid, like fighting some girl’s boyfriend.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, Sweetheart, oh my God, you really thought I was cheating on you? What would any other woman have that you don’t? I’m just there babysitting Jake, and, I usually get a free beer and a plate of Buffalo wings out of the deal.”
“You...you do it for chicken wings?”
“I mean, I do it to hang out with my friends in situations where we’re not planning a mission or flying like our asses depend on it because we might not make it home otherwise.”
You nod your head slowly as everything suddenly starts making sense. It wasn’t that Bradley didn’t want to be with you, it was that he wanted some sense of normalcy with his friends, instead of what had become normal for them at work. You could appreciate it, even if Bradley was going about things the wrong way. 
“Can I show you something?” He said softly, cautiously reaching out to take you by the hand as you nodded your head.
Bradley pulled you in close to his body, wrapping you up in his strong arms and holding you in a passionate embrace as he kissed you with everything he had in him. His lips hungrily kissed at yours, his tongue flitting out to trace your bottom lip as you parted your mouth just so to allow him access. A soft, breathy moan escaped from your throat as you kissed Bradley, the passion overtaking you as he gently pulled away, still hovering above your mouth.
“I want to remind you how much I love you.”
Without another word, Bradley hoisted you up onto the counter, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you towards him. He knelt down in front of you, gently tapping your inner thigh with his hand as you parted your legs for him. Bradley pulled your comfy shorts down off your waist, dragging them down your legs before dropping them to the floor. He ducked his head down between your thighs as his hands rested on you, pulling you ever so slightly in towards him. His tongue licked a long, slow trail up your slit, eliciting a loud, breathy gasp from your lips. 
Bradley’s tongue began to work at you, licking and sucking at your sensitive clit as you tilted your head back. Your fingers raked their way into his curls, tugging gently on them as you guided his head in to your center, a whine leaving your lips as you felt him encircling it with his tongue, his touch delicate, yet passionate, as if he was making this his life’s work. You felt his tongue tracing shapes on you - letters, almost, and Bradley’s muffled voice had a tone of seduction to it as he spoke, his lips vibrating against your swollen, puffy cunt, sending a whole new sensation through you.
“Bradley!” You cried out, throwing your head forward to watch what he was doing, “I-I’m getting close, honey.”
Bradley looked up at you from under hooded lids as he watched your facial expressions, loving how your body was reacting to his touch. There was a newfound look of determination in his eyes as he slipped two of his long, slender fingers inside of you without breaking contact with his mouth. The feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot and his combination of licking and sucking at your clit like a man starved was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs began to quiver as you felt yourself approach your climax, screaming out Bradley’s name, making it the only sound that could be heard echoing through your empty house.
“Gonna explain what the fuck that new technique of yours is?” You panted as you came down from your euphoria, your head spinning as you stared at Bradley, who was wiping his chin with the back of his hand and sporting a look of pure pride.
“My wedding vows,” He shrugged, as if this was the most obvious explanation in the world.
“Your vows? You recited your vows?”
“Sure did, babygirl. Had to show you I remembered them somehow, figured that was better than me reciting them while bending you over the countertop. I’m not done convincing you just yet though.” 
He smirked, taking you by the hand as he helped you down off the counter. Bradley turned you around, your back facing him as he placed his firm, strong hand on you, guiding you as you bent over and rested your hands on the cold marble surface in front of you. You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you realized your husband’s methods of making it up to you - he was never great with words, spoken apologies usually ended up coming out wrong, words getting tangled and twisted on his tongue, unable to string together a coherent sentence that held any meaning. However, what Bradley lacked in his communication, he made up for with his actions, doing whatever grandiose measure he could to make it up to you. 
Bradley’s broad hand stroked your back, running down to your ass as he gave it a playful squeeze. He let out a low groan as he undid his golf shorts, hurriedly kicking them off behind him. Bradley gave his cock a few quick strokes with his hand before running his tip along your dripping wet slit to tease you.
“Ready for me, Honey?” He purred, grinning as he watched you tense up as you felt him brush against your clit.
“Bradley, so help me, if you don’t stop teasing me-” your sentence was cut off abruptly as you felt Bradley buck his hips forward, pushing his length into your entrance. 
You whined as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, feeling full as he bottomed out inside of you, Bradley leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder as he gave you time to adjust. Bradley stood himself upright, lining his hips up with yours as he pulled back before giving a hard thrust forwards. He began pumping himself in and out of you, snapping his hips into a rhythm as he held your hips in place with his hands. Each thrust was sharp and calculated, hitting all the right places in perfect timing. There was one thing your husband prided himself on more than anything, and that was how well he made love to his wife. 
“That’s it, Honey, you look so pretty taking my cock like this,” Bradley hummed, his voice sultry and smooth as he praised you.
“Bradley, harder.” You commanded, whining as you felt an aching need for him to let you cum. 
Bradley began thrusting deeper into you, taking less care to be gentle with each movement. You felt your knees buckling with pleasure as he thrusted, and the sounds coming from both you and Bradley were beyond obscene, but in the best possible way. 
“Baby, I’m getting close,” He breathed, tilting his head back and panting. “Do you want me to pull out?”
“No!” You responded, clenching your thighs around him, in a more zealous response than you intended. “Need you, Bradley. I don’t care what happens. I need you.”
You could almost hear the change in tone from Bradley as soon as you spoke. Except, instead of killing the mood, like you’d anticipated, Bradley began fucking himself into you harder than before, almost desperate as he gripped your hips tightly. 
“You want me to fill you up, my pretty girl? Want me to cum in that tight little pussy of yours?” He husked, his body practically giving way to pleasure as he thought about it.
“Mhmm!” was all you could muster out of you as you nodded your head, feeling yourself reach your orgasm again, your walls clenching around him tightly.
“Fuck, Honey, you got it. Anything you want, Babygirl, I’ve got ya.” He babbled as he fell apart inside of you.
You placed your palms flat against the counter to hold yourself steady as Bradley’s thrusts became sloppier, slowing until they reached a gradual stop. He held his positon inside of you for a few moments while he caught his breath, almost too exhausted to move. As he pulled out, you let out a deep sigh, almost aching at the now emptiness in you. 
You finally got air back into your lungs as you stood upright, turning to face him as you leaned your back against the counter. Your gaze fell on Bradley, a blissful look of exhaustion on your face. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his curls now slightly dampened from a mixture of the Californian humidity and the passionately wild sex you’d just had. Bradley gave you a crooked grin as he gently put his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to him. 
“How was that for my apology? Or do you need me to do it again? ‘Cause if you give me like, an hour, I’ll go grab one of those Body whatever drinks Jake always has after a workout and I’ll be good to go for another round,” Bradley chuckled, stroking your hair.
“It was good, you’re forgiven. But,” you paused, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’d appreciate it if you spent a little more time with me. Maybe we could catch a ball game together, go for a road trip or something.”
“You know what? That sounds like a great idea. I’ve got tomorrow and the next day off. We could drive up to Malibu or something. Hell, Vegas is only four hours. May as well check that off our bucket list while we still can.”
“While we still can?” You cocked your head to the side, giving him an incredulous look.
“Well, you just begged me not to pull out…and if it’s alright by you, I’d kinda like to see what happens if we kept doing that,” Bradley said with a playful grin, laughing as he stroked your cheek.
“Oh, is that so?” You smirked, shaking your head at him. 
“Well, this road trip will give us four hours and a lot of desert to pull over in. You’ll get lots of chances to see what happens.” 
598 notes · View notes
mrchiipchrome · 5 months
Text
The Mechanic
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W.C. - 4.2k
A/n: This was a bit rushed and not very good but anyways I’m going to bed now
——————————
Growing up, your father had been a mechanic and when you had days off from school he would bring you down to the auto shop he owned and worked at. Later, that would turn into you spending your afternoons and weekends down at the shop, learning everything there was to know about cars and how to repair them.
After graduating secondary school you were employed by the shop you had grown up in, rising through the ranks like any usual person would their job. You had close to no help from your father after your employment, he had always been clear that you had to work to get to your position especially if you wanted to one day inherit the shop.
So when your father died, you had more than enough experience with how to run an auto shop. In reality you were nothing less than a parentless kid trying to navigate their way through life without their biggest role model and simultaneous favorite person.
But eventually you found your footing, with the help of a bit of therapy that you'd gone to reluctantly, and had managed to find the balance between repairing cars and handling everything else that came with owning your own mechanic shop.
Still you consider yourself lucky, lucky for having Mitch who had been helping you with all the financials and all the other confusing things.
Mitch, or as you knew him Uncle Mitch, had been one of your father’s childhood friends and had been around since before you had been born. He was there for your father when your mother decided that she didn’t want to be part of your life and when he had no choice but to become a single father. He took you to school on the days your father couldn’t and helped you with school work.
So when a very pretty girl with car problems appeared one day, he was the first one to tease you about your obvious starstruck behavior.
—-
08.00 on a thursday and you’ve already been at work for a few hours, finishing up some paperwork and a couple small repairs on easier cars before all the other mechanics came in at 9. Hearing someone walk in through the open garage door is not an unusual feat, in fact you were used to your other mechanics coming in a bit earlier, so when uncertain footsteps echo in the peopleless shop you don’t roll out from where you’re situated under the car.
“Um, hi. My car just broke down like 2 minutes from here and I have no idea what to do.”
The soft fleeting voice is feminine and unfamiliar, definitely not one of your mechanics with their gruff chain smoking voices. Your head perks up and the hand holding the wrench from your tool set stills. With hands covered in soot and oil like most of your work clothes, you slide out from your place underneath the car.
“What seems to be the problem with it? Did it indicate something might've been wrong before it broke down? Any unusual sounds…?” Your voice trails off as you see the gorgeous blonde standing there looking around in curiosity, seeing all the different cars around the large shop. You just stand there, like an idiot seemingly enamored by the pretty stranger in front of you. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge your clear inability to act like a normal human as she directs her eyes toward you, eyes not even the greatest poets could try to describe.
The woman fiddles with the rings adorning her slender fingers as she rushes to explain the moments prior to her car stopping functioning.
“Oh god, yeah. I was supposed to come in for an oil change but then out of nowhere, my car started to make these kinds of crunching sounds and then there was a slight pop before it just broke down. Since I was supposed to come here, I knew it wasn’t that far so I left it with my friend and ran here for help”
The stress she’s feeling is evident in her actions and a surprising sense of protectiveness overtakes you, a feeling you can only describe as wanting to wrap her up in bubble wrap and protect her from the cruel world.
“Alright, have you called a tow truck yet?” The blush that immediately covers her face indicates that she had not, apparently not thinking that far. A sly smile takes over your face, fingers wrapping around a towel laying haphazardly on the deep red metal bench.
The soot and grime your fingers are covered in transfers over to the white surface of the towel, more soot at your hairline and your nose.
“You’re in luck miss, we have our very own tow truck.” Your hands shake deliberately as you try to lighten the mood, leading the blonde girl over to the regular truck you had. It was an old model, but damn if that car didn’t run perfectly. It had been a gift from Mitch for your 18th birthday, he knew that you adored putting excessive amounts of effort into your projects, and that car was truly a piece of work.
It had taken you a few short weeks to get it done, you were somewhat of a prodigy.
“Hey, take the passenger seat! I need you to show me where your car broke down.” You shouted as the blonde girl made no motion to move in any direction. She slowly shuffles her feet towards the car,enjoying the way your eyes raked over her body.
“Okay, so basically it’s just up the road, you’ll see a tiny dutchie standing beside it panicking.” She laughs softly as the last words escape her mouth, and in that exact moment you decide that it’s the greatest, most beautifully enticing melody ever created.
Your eyes are glued to the road, knowing that if you were to look into her eyes once more you’d get stuck looking at her. She felt like home even though you’d just met her moments before.
“Oh yeah? Why do you have a tiny Dutch person in your car?” The banter with you the girl you’d yet to get the name of was like you’d been friends for decades, you easily bounced retorts back and forth like great friends would.
“My teammate, we were driving to training and then my car decided that it didn’t want to work anymore. Wait, I haven’t phoned Jonas yet, I’m so dead.” You didn’t understand what she was talking about at the last part, the girl seemingly talking to herself.
Just like the woman beside you had said, there was a seemingly frantic short woman besides a white Mercedes. “How’d you know?” You ask the woman sitting in your car, her expression silly beyond comprehension. Her tongue was trapped between her teeth, her bright smile on display and her nose scrunched up adorably.
“A magician never reveals his secrets, right?” She fixes you with another cheeky smile, dark pink lips pulled together in the most admirable way. She was nothing if not perfect.
Her eyes shine brightly as you pull up next to her blinking car, the Dutch girl pulling the door open with a surprising amount of strength.
“Less, we are so late, Jonas is going to kill us!” Her foreign accent is quite noticeable, not that it bothers you. What did bother you was the way she threw the door of your beloved car up so violently.
“Yeah Vic, I know.” Less, as you’d come to know, told the other girl, Vic. Vic’s eyes flit over to you, taking in your non-threatening appearance and awkward smile. You wave at her before exiting your truck.
“So if you don’t mind, I’ll just pop your hood and try to find the problem.” You spoke to the taller of the two girls in front of you, who nodded her head vigorously, allowing you to do whatever it was you needed.
The smoke that escaped from beneath the hood concerned you, as did the heat of the motor beneath your fingers. It didn’t look too good for the blonde’s car, but for both her and your sake, you didn’t tell her.
“Well it’s definitely a problem with the engine, that much I’ll tell you.” A bit of worry seeps into your tone and Alessia doesn’t seem to like it.
“But my car will be fine right?” She was worried beyond recognition.
“Yeah, they say that I’ve got magic fingers for a reason” You sent her a quick wink, the statement true in both ways. The blonde’s face darkened significantly, red sprouting at every soft turn of the face.
“Okay there Casanova, why don’t you just hook the car to yours and take it back to the shop?” The dutchie’s tone left no room for argument, clearly she was protective of the blonde.
Pulling the wires from your trunk, you quickly hooked her car to yours in a safe way, making sure that her keys were out of the ignition and that her car was completely turned off.
Vic jumped into the backseat begrudgingly whilst Less took her place in the passenger seat.
You drove back to the garage in a slow pace, not wanting to damage the car behind more, plus you got to have the beautiful blonde in your car for longer.
“Less, how are we supposed to get to training if your car’s like that?” The girl in the backseat frowns at the blonde through the mirror, but you’re already multiple steps ahead, having put your thinking hat on before.
“I can drive you, and if y’all want we can take my coolest car too.” You spoke up nonchalantly, even though you were riddled with anxiety inside.
Less shakes her head softly, putting a soft and warm hand on your shoulder, stroking down your arm.
“It’s no problem really, we’ll just take an Uber.” She waves you off, despite seeming quite excited at the prospect of showing up to ‘training’ in a cool car.
“It’s no bother, my mechanics don’t come in until 9 so I’ve got time to kill. Plus, I haven’t been able to take the baby out for a while, needed to fix her up a little after the last time.” You laugh out, hand coming up to rub at the back of your head as you pull into the workshop.
“Take your things from your car and follow me.” The two of them do exactly as you say, getting their duffle bags from the white car.
You take them to the very back of the workshop, back to the garage where you kept your most prized possessions. In the smack middle it stood, your baby.
A 1968 Ford Mustang.
It was a gorgeous, shiny black color and you’d picked up a fair few ladies with it, just like your father did before you. He’d got it from his father, they’d started working on it before your grandfather died, and your father vowed to complete the work with his child.
Unluckily, your very own father died before the project was done, and so you were left to finish it.
“Here’s my beauty, my 1968 Ford Mustang, ain’t she a beaut?” You asked the two girls, standing behind you with their mouths wide open.
“Where’d you get it? Aren’t they super expensive?” Vic asked and Less slapped her arm harshly at the latter question.
“Passed down to me and yes, they’re incredibly expensive.” You could see how their eyes looked over your car, it was safe, modernized just enough so that it wouldn’t lose its charm.
“Right, you two can squabble about who sits in the passenger seat and who sits in the back, I’ll take your bags though, no scratching my paint.” You pluck their bags from their hands and put them in the trunk whilst Less and Vic actually squabbled.
Eventually, it was Less who won the battle, her hair blowing in the cool wind that passed you by as you drove. You’d gotten the address from the younger of the two as soon as you all got settled in the car.
When you finally pull up in front of the seeming training center, it’s to the sight of multiple girls standing with mixed expressions. Some were stern, others were shocked and some were confused.
“Alessia Russo, Victoria Pelova, where have you been?” The short woman at the front asks sternly, though shock does seem to flutter over her face for a second as she clocks your ride.
“Well my car broke down so I walked to the workshop not too far away-“ Alessia starts sheepishly, her fingers scratching at her forearm.
“Where she met Casanova, who decided to help by getting Lessi’s car to the shop and then driving us here in her sweet ride.” Vic finishes off Alessia’s sentence, patting your shoulder as she climbs out of the car. Alessia once again blushes at the name Vic gave you, just as you roll your eyes at it.
“You have a really beautiful car, miss.” One of the more sheepishly shy looking girls tells you, she had an accent you just couldn’t place.
“Thank you dear, tell me, where is it you come from? I can’t place your accent.” You ask her softly, not wanting to scare the young girl.
“Uhm, Denmark miss.” She looks down at her feet, shuffling them around as she blushes more than usual.
“Oh, I’ve never been, do you have any recommendations for me when I visit?” That seems to set the young girl off as she starts to babble on about different places to visit and where you could find the best food.
Alessia looks on as you engage with her teammate, with you leaning back on the side of your car and Katherine standing in front of you.
A sudden loud noise comes from your phone, and you recognise it as the jingle you’d put for Mitch.
“Hey uncle Mitch, whatchu calling me for?” You answer the call quickly, waving a little at the girls you’d met before.
“Where are you? The shop’s empty and I don’t know if I need to remind you, but your employees arrive in 10 minutes.” He was pretty clearly stressed about your current predicament.
“Oh shit, listen Mitch I needed to help a client and I took the Mustang so I’ll be back in like, 5 minutes.” You knew that he knew exactly why you’d taken the mustang, it was simply a lady magnet.
“A ‘client’ of course, that's what your dad always said when he wanted some alone time if you know what I mean.” Even if you couldn’t see your uncle’s face you knew that he was smiling and winking slyly. Your face scrunches up uncomfortably at the insinuation, not really wanting to know of your father’s ‘endeavours’ before you.
“Ew gross Mitchy, it’s not like that.” The whisper-shout you let out into the mic has the women around you looking at you weirdly.
“Alright, alright, I’ll open for the guys but you make sure that you don’t get in too late, you still have that car from a couple days ago to finish.” Rolling your eyes at the older man, you climb back into the car and put the keys into the ignition, turning the car on and saying a quick goodbye to the girls you’d given a ride to, telling the gorgeous blonde that her car would be done in the next few days.
You were fully on the road when the blonde realized that you hadn’t given her your number, which meant that she didn’t know when her car would be done.
You on the other hand knew exactly what you were to do when the car was done, it really wasn’t hard to make the plan.
—————
“Uncle Mitch? I’m going away for like an hour to help a client, so let the guys go on break for an hour and a half. They sure do need it.” You call out for your uncle who found himself at the shop more often than not.
“Okay kid, just make sure not to fool around too much okay? I know how you are-“ He starts off with a large smile on his face before you interrupt him with your own sentence.
“Yeah just like my father, I know, it’s kind of who I was raised by, you know.” You smile at the old man whose hair was graying and face wrinkled. He was like another father figure.
“Yeah, yeah, off you go to see Juliet.” He responds, shooing you out of the main room and towards the private garage where your Mustang was located.
“What is it with people naming us after old romance stories?!” You say exasperated, but the blush covering your face tells a different tale.
Revving up your car, you quickly pull out of the garage and pull out onto the road. The wind blows through your hair and the freeing feeling makes you smile, the hot summer breeze never failing you.
As you pull up to the training grounds there’s a large group of people exiting the building, training bags over their shoulders as they talk eagerly with each other. They do notice the car that didn’t fit in, black leather seats and black shiny exterior.
When their resident clumsy friend spots the car she trips over her feet, luckily enough for her, Vic is right beside her and she manages to catch the falling forward. It’s no easy feat by any means, but the smaller midfielder manages to pull her back to her feet.
When you pull up next to them, she comes up to greet you.
“Hi Casanova” She starts off, smile splitting her face open from ear to ear. Your face mirrors hers, the stupid nickname seemingly stuck around.
“Hi Alessia, I was popping by to pick you up as the work on your car is done.” The forward eagerly puts her bag in your backseat before she’s plopping down in your passenger seat. She smiles even wider as she realizes the soft rock flowing out from your radio. All of a sudden her face turns into a mess of confusion and a bit of fear.
“Wait, how did you know when my training ended?” She was staring deep into your soul, eyes glistening in the sun.
“Well I had a little help.” Turning around to face her Dutch friend, you can see the way she winks at the blonde sitting beside you, who merely raises an eyebrow at her. There were more questions to be answered but she decided that it wasn’t worth the effort.
“Are you ready to go back to the garage?” You ask her softly, her face just so enticing that you could do no more than whisper in her presence. She nods her head though and as you’re pulling out of the parking lot you both hear a:
“Don’t forget protection!”
The blush that comes over her face makes her look like an overly ripe tomato, though you don’t have much to say, looking like a tomato yourself.
The rest of the drive is spent in silence, Alessia looking out at the streets of London like she'd never seen anything like them before and you admiring her at every red light. It’s not until you pull up at the shop that she looks at you properly, her eyes glimmering.
“So if you just follow me out here, I’ll lead you to your good as new car.” She exits your car to follow you out and towards her own, the Mercedes that you’d put extra time and effort into. Nothing but the best for the gorgeous girl.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to save the day, I really do owe you one.” Her seemingly never ending smile shines even brighter at the sight of her car, and as she turns to you it seems to get impossibly brighter.
“Well it’s my job you know, I kind of own the place.” It’s a hastily thrown out comment that seemingly piques her interest, Alessia’s hand coming up to rest on your slightly sooty arm.
“How do you own this place? I don’t mean it in a condescending way or anything but it’s just that you’re so young and pretty and you don’t seem like the type to buy a workshop.” She rambles in her nervousity, eyes shifting around the shop like they’d done only days before.
“I inherited it from my dad, the same with my car. He uhm, he died and my mom is like fully out of the picture so I got most of his stuff, my uncle Mitch also got some stuff but I was the main person.” She was so easy to talk to, you’d only met her days before and it felt like you’d known each other for years. Your dads death wasn’t something that you talked about often or with most people, so your heart had really taken a wild leap for the young striker.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, I know that he’s watching you with pride wherever he is.” Her hand rubs up and down your arm comfortingly, smiling sorrowfully at you as you recount your grief at the most important person in your life’s death.
“It’s not your fault, he lived his life to the fullest so I know that he was content when he died…” Alessia notices the want to change the topic of your conversation and so she shifts it to something more trivial.
“Uhm, how much do you want me to pay for this?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly at the whiplashing change of topic.
“You can pay with a hug and a kiss?” You joke lightly but it seems like the forward takes it seriously, as her hands come up to slither back around your neck, fingers tangling in your baby hairs.
Big hands settle on the blonde’s waist as she moves her face closer to yours, leaning up to rest her lips against yours in a soft embrace.
The kiss is nothing short of magical and as her tongue pokes against your lips you open your lips, basically french kissing the girl in the middle of your workshop. The kiss only breaks apart as whistles from your employees ring out throughout the shop, the guys having come back from their break.
When they finally quiet down it’s by the threat of you withholding their next paycheck and they all look away as you peck the girl’s lips a few more times before letting her leave in her fixed up Mercedes.
“Not a word of this to Mitch.” You look at them all sternly, but the knowledge that all of them had basically watched you grow up made you realize that they definitely weren’t scared of your empty threats. They sealed the deal by chuckling at you before turning back to their individual projects.
————-
In the weeks following the blonde leaving your motor shop she’d come in more than once for imaginary problems with her car, which you knew was just an excuse to see you. No one had that many problems with their car.
When she comes in fully unexpected one Thursday it’s with a fleeting problem with her motor from before.
“Hi Y/n, my car has been acting up a little again, mind checking it out for me?” She pops her head into the shop after hours, you’d just been finishing up some paperwork that needed to be done.
“Alessia, you do know that you can just ask me out on a date instead of making up problems with your car?” You prayed that you’d read the situation right, otherwise it’d be quite the awkward conversation.
“Oh thank you, it’s really hard to just come up with problems out of the blue” Her body leans on her hands that are now pressed against your desk, her face close to yours.
“So, are you going to ask me?” You ask her the question you’d been thinking about for a while, her face and the tops of her ears turning red.
“Y/n/n do you want to go on a date with me?” She asks nervously, like you’d ever reject a girl like her, a beautiful and kind soul that did nothing if not light your day up with her made up problems.
“Of course I would Less.” You respond to the girl, only for her to lean forward and capture your lips with her own. People always talk about the first kiss, but the second kiss was always so much better, and all the kisses after that were pretty great too.
Who would’ve thought, a footballer and a mechanic getting together, the very own Casanova and Juliet of the world.
Maybe some weird romance book would be written about it in a few years, but for now you were content with watching the stars with your gorgeous girlfriend in your less gorgeous (but still very beautiful) car, sharing deep kisses into the night.
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florencemtrash · 4 months
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Ten
Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
Warnings: Mentions of cannon-typical violence. Azriel and Y/n have a late night conversation. Fluff and other stuff.
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
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“Gwyn says hi by the way.” 
Azriel choked on his coffee, bitter flavor rising in his throat. Nesta sauntered into the kitchen, cool eyes glaring at the back of his head. Your familiar silhouette was nowhere to be found. 
Not here. His shadows whispered. With Rhys.
“Calm down you idiot.” Nesta’s voice dripped with unrestrained contempt as she poured herself a cup and sat. His tan skin glistened with sweat after his morning training session, inky tattoos splashing across his bare chest and trailing over his shoulders, down his back, and up to his neck. In the cloudy afternoon light it was difficult to tell where his shadows ended and where his tattoos began. 
“Y/n’s not here. You’ll have to walk around half-naked some other time.” 
Azriel winced. “That isn’t what—”
Nesta brushed him off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing over her mug. Azriel felt like a bug pinned down under a microscope. A crushed butterfly about to hang.
“How is Gwyn doing?” he asked gingerly, casually. 
“She’s fine. Believe it or not, the world did not end when you broke up with her.”
Again he flinched. “I’m sorry, Nes,” he whispered rather pathetically. 
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. But you already know that.” 
There seemed to be no shortage of people he needed to apologize to: Elain, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, even Lucien — especially Lucien. His cheeks burned to think of the absolute mess of things he’d made. Feyre had been the quickest to forgive him for the debacle with Elain and Gwyn. But as Cassian had mentioned at dinner, there was a reason everyone was staying away from the River House, and the reason was him. 
Two years ago he’d challenged Lucien Vanserra to a blood duel for Elain’s hand. It had felt so right at the time, so obvious: three sisters for three brothers. But it was only when their deaths had loomed over her head with shocking reality that Elain realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. The mistake they’d made together. 
“Call it off,” she’d commanded him, blocking Lucien’s bloody, heaving body. The son of Autumn’s sword had been kicked away, scraping across the rock with an eerie scream and disappearing over the cliff edge. But Elain had stayed, soft brown eyes begging, “Do this and I will never forgive you. What we did… it wasn’t right. It was a mistake.”
A mistake, she’d called it. Years of silent longing and bare bone brushes of their hands in dark hallways. All a mistake. Those words had haunted him. They’d chased him into Gwyn’s kind arms where he once again mistook the friendship he felt towards her as love and broke her heart in the process. Add that to his lackluster response to Mor’s coming out and… well he had a lot of work ahead of him. 
He hoped he would be forgiven in time, but that didn’t mean he’d twiddle his thumbs until that day came. He scoured Prythian’s publishers for new releases of adventure, mystery, and romance books — the raunchier the better — and they showed up every month at Cagniv Library like clockwork. The priestesses still thought it was part of a trade bargain with the Day Court. He’d sent Elain and Lucien plenty of letters and gifts, but either they weren’t being opened or they weren’t bothering to respond. He wouldn’t blame them either way. As for Mor and Emerie, they were gone with the wind, too busy infiltrating lands and enjoying an extended honeymoon on the continent to bother with him. 
That cold stillness in Nesta’s eyes transformed into pity. It was hard not to be reminded of her own failures when she looked at him. Seeing him angry. Watching him crawl into the darkest corners of himself and burn every bridge he crossed had been a shock to Nesta’s system. A plunge into freezing waters that brought pain and clarity. 
She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just give them time, Az. They’ll come around. If they did it for me, they’ll do it for you.” “I think our situations are rather different.” 
“I don’t.” 
“You didn’t try to kill anyone.”
She grimaced. “I came close.”  
He stayed silent for a long while. He washed his cup. He dried it. He put it in the cupboard. 
“Can you—can you please not tell Y/n?” he begged. His voice was small and quiet. He’d been a fool in the past and made terrible decisions in the name of love. Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. They’d all lived more in his mind than in his heart — people he could never fully grasp, and therefore never lose. They’d been safe. Easy. 
It didn’t feel that way with you. You felt solid and warm, even if he’d only touched you once. You felt more real to him than anyone else. You felt like someone he could actually have. Which meant he could lose you before you’d even become his to lose. 
“You can’t keep her in the dark forever. Not about your history, not about the bond. If you’re going to learn anything from your brothers, learn that.”  
“I know,” he whispered. “I just want to get it right this time.” He had to get it right this time. “I want her to fall in love with me because she wants me, not out of some sense of obligation. I want…” I want to be worthy of her.  
Nesta shook her head, a laugh escaping despite her best attempts to stifle it. Azriel looked at her like she’d gone mad.
She giggled again. “It’s funny. For a male as handsome and desirable as you, you have the worst fucking luck with women. The Mother must have a twisted sense of humor.” 
Maybe she did. But Azriel was still enough of a romantic to hope that he had learned from his mistakes, and that his bad luck would end with you. 
You shoved the notebook off Rhysand’s desk, loose papers flying out like uncoordinated doves. 
“I told you notetaking was a futile effort.” The High Lord didn’t even look at you, too busy searching for invisible dirt beneath his manicured fingernails.
You groaned and dropped your head against the book he’d handed you two hours before. 
Rhysand had to smile at your frustration. It was a wholly different experience teaching you magic compared to teaching Feyre. With Feyre, her greatest barrier had been her lack of knowledge (and her hatred of him at the time). She’d been thrust into the world of fae without preparation, but it had left her malleable and adaptable. It was like teaching a newborn how to walk — a mind that could absorb more because it knew so little.
But you knew too much. You could spout off magical theory at the drop of a hat. You were a pedagogical master with a thousand mnemonics to your name. You were the first to wake in all of Velaris, making your way to the Library before bodies could fill the streets, and you only returned when the crowds had either turned in for the night or gone out to drink until daybreak. You swallowed every history book on the Night Court, Clairvoyants, daemati, and death gods until you felt untethered from the earth — until your mind began to float outside your body, buzzing with thoughts that never went away. 
But none of that mattered. Your power was an immovable object that couldn’t be controlled by logic or studying. 
You shoved against that power now.
“Good,” Rhysand nodded, leaning against the window, “You’re getting better at it.” 
He lingered in your mind, hovering over the depths of your emotions and memories like a bird ready to break water. It had taken some time before you felt comfortable with the intrusion. Your first lesson together, Rhysand’s presence in your mind had made it impossible to focus. Panic had seized your mind and your body until you could do nothing more than brace your hands and feet against the chair’s leather upholstery. You could have sworn you saw a head of silver hair to your left. The gentle pitter patter of rain had sounded like dripping blood. 
It wasn’t like that anymore. Henna had left you with a useful skill — you could wind your consciousness around Rhysand and keep him there, suspended in that indescribable space where your thoughts lay so he could do no more damage than you permitted him. 
Through your mind he felt the narrowing of your power. You imagined it like a blanket wrapped around your body, suffocating but familiar. It was this power that laced your skin and made contact with others so hard. You imagined the fabric shortening, creeping up your arms and legs, curling around your torso and squeezing like a snake. Inch by inch you tightened it around you, burying it within your chest instead of carrying it openly like a wound. 
You held a music book between your hands — Nyx’s to be exact. The little Lordling showcased a certain aptitude for the piano his father could only dream of, and being as young and protected as he was, the worst kind of emotion imbued within its pages was agitation. You could hear one of the ballads written within it as clearly as if Nyx was sitting beside you plucking out the melody. 
Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. You swallowed your power. Pulled what was outside inwards. Slowly but surely the music faded away until the book was as all books should be — silent. 
Sweat beaded your brow. This was the most difficult part — not tuning out the music, but keeping the volume at zero. 
Rhysand checked his watch. Waited. Checked it again. 
You lasted thirty minutes before your power burst out along your skin once more like a thousand prickling needles. You shuddered, half-disappointed, half-grateful that you could hear the melody again.
Rhysand clapped his hands, slow and proud. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room was dangerously close to five bells. Rhysand nodded. 
“Perfect timing. We’re done for today.” 
“I can go for longer,” you pleaded. 
“I know you can.” Rhysand pushed off the wall, polished leather boots gleaming. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers this time, the scent of wind still clinging to his skin after a visit to the northern war camps.
Old Illyria lasted thousands of years. The clans used to flow up and down the Steppes, following the tundrabeast that lay claim to those mountainous regions and were said to speak for their god Ramiel — Starbreaker, Night Herder — after whom the mountain is named. They don’t move with the cold winds anymore, even if they’ve kept their names: Ironcrest, Bloodborn, Windhaven, Seawhip, Hawkseed, Timberbane, and a dozen others. And they don’t make sacrifices, although the Blood Rite might be a close—
Rhysand rapped his knuckles on the desk to grab your attention and splayed his fingers wide. “I also know that the moment I dismiss you, you’ll scamper off to the Library to work until you can’t see straight.” 
You shifted in your seat. “I like it there.”
“That’s besides the point. If you keep going at this pace you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to help anyone. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 
Your eyes widened ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I know what it feels like to burn out and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I promise.” 
Rhysand suppressed the urgent need to roll his eyes as you gathered your things and walked out the door. “And here I thought I worked too much,” he muttered beneath his breath. 
You carried Henna’s journal tucked within your new Librarian robes — black with ivory detailing and wide sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. You kept a hand on it during late nights at the Library. You ate with it propped open, black splotches swimming across the page like worms. You slept with it beneath your pillow. 
But alas, it would seem the book was going to make you work to wring meaning out of every odd symbol.
You were muttering to yourself as you walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. You’d effectively commandeered one of the reading rooms on the seventh floor, leaving the library only when required for Rhysand’s lessons. Helion’s most recent letter lay open on the table with Cherp’s resting just beneath it. A map hung crooked on the wall, four athenaeums circled in bleeding red ink alongside a list of books that had gone missing — the ones that people knew about at least. 
The Alcove, Ares House, Folkmen’s Bard, and most recently, Argot’s.
 Three Librarians dead. Their throats slit. Blood dribbling down their burgundy robes as they’d sat hunched over their desks. The week before it had been two from Ares House caught swaying from the third floor balcony. 
No one has any idea how it happened. The wards were never set off. Nothing in the Library was disrupted. I tell you this only because you deserve to know what’s happened to your people. Continue your training. Continue your research. Do whatever you need to do. But leave the court business to me, dear. I’ll write to you again when I can.
~ Helion 
“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your hip where the book remained silent. “None of this makes sense.” 
You’d used every ounce of Rhysand’s training on the book. You’d imagined your power sliding over it like water, fire, needles shooting through cowhide, a hammerstrike, every metaphor imaginable. You’d glared at it with an intensity that would have disintegrated a lesser object. 
When that failed, you had moved onto solving the murders and thefts at your father’s court. You couldn’t content yourself with sitting in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs in Rhysand’s office sipping imported tea in porcelain cups while athenaeums were on lockdown. 
The pattern was shockingly simple — Koschei was going after books that could be traced back to him. Books that might give his enemies the upper hand: folktales alluding to him and his siblings, translated texts from old Bauldish that might have proved useful in deciphering Henna’s book, secondary accounts of the age before High Lords ruled. 
If you were Koschei you’d go after Godswoods next — the collection of athenaeums dedicated to religion. Then on to The Gallows — the athenaeum on death and dying. The two were intricately tied to one another, but people tended to write books on dying before coming up with explanations for what comes after. You’d spent a great deal of time there following your mother’s death, and you could picture it now — solemn black bookshelves looping around a circular room that tapered up into a point like a blade pointed to the sky. 
You finished writing your letter to Helion, along with the list of books you wanted pulled from the archives. Cagniv Library may have been a glowing beacon in the Night Court, and a place of sanctuary for the priestesses, but it was nothing like you were used to.
You held the paper out in front of you, Helion’s glimmering pen tucked behind your sharp ears, and blew. The black letters lifted off the page and faded away like a breath in cold air. The message was already writing itself back into existence in Helion’s office.
“It doesn’t make sense.” 
You scribbled out another note, this one for yourself with another pen. You ripped it to pieces and fed it to the fire. 
What was Koschei looking for now? Was he still looking for the book that now rested against your hip, or had he turned to some other prize? And why kill the Librarians and set all of Day Court on high alert? 
Henna had been careful. She’d stayed hidden until she was forced to tear down the Alcove to get the book. Whoever was causing the killings now was either a showman or a fool. They left bodies hanging from rafters. They carved smiles into throats. They let the Librarians know what they were stealing whether they meant to or not. They left patterns scattered among wreckage for someone like you to figure out. 
It all felt… juvenile for lack of a better word. Someone young. Someone who wanted to prove themselves in a loud way. Someone whose ego hadn’t been tested yet and wasn’t listening to Koschei’s commands in their entirety. 
Azriel. 
You couldn’t help but think of him. 
Azriel was nothing like that. 
He wasn’t loud. He didn’t vy for attention. He didn’t seek the light in a room. His confidence was quiet and true. His kindness took the shape of the shadows that lingered by your ankles. It took the shape of the robes you wore now. He was the only one who’d seen them at The Alcove. He was the only one who could have requested the court seamstress to make a copy and leave it hanging in your closet.
No. Azriel was nothing like that.
Azriel’s eyes lit up like embers when you slid through the front door, weary but bright-eyed and cradling your journals against your chest. The shadows he’d left behind with you slithered across the floor like mist. 
She’s been in the Library all day. Working. The shadows whispered in his ear. She thought about you. 
Azriel smiled. He’d thought about you as well. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” 
You gasped, closing the door louder than you intended. You’d developed a talent for sneaking in and out of the River House unnoticed to the point where Cassian considered hiding bells in your pockets. Nyx had tried to do it as a joke, but you’d caught him giggling too loudly in your bedroom. 
You brightened immediately, a broad smile appearing on your face. Azriel felt his heart leap, then quiet as he caught the scent of parchment paper. 
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You whispered, tip-toeing through the dimly lit hallway to where Azriel was in the sitting room. You sank into the couch with a groan. The hardwood desks at the Library had not been kind to you. 
He shrugged and brushed back his wind-thickened hair, shifting to face you better. A crumb-coated plate lay on the table and he still wore his leathers. He must have just arrived home. 
“I flew as quick as I could. I wanted to be home.” With you. 
He’d gotten so used to the feeling of you sleeping across the hallway that he’d flown the last three days without sleep. It was worth it to see you again. From the looks of it, you’d not fared well in his absence either. Your eyes had that glassy, half-there sheen: a perfect mixture of exhaustion and mind-crackling clarity. 
“And how were the Mortal Lands?” You tucked your knees beneath you and leaned against your hand, fighting the sleep that seemed to grapple for you now that Azriel was home. His wings were spread wide and you resisted the urge to close the last few inches between you and the talon that glimmered in the faelight like obsidian glass.
You’d never been that far south. You’d never had reason to. But Azriel flew far and wide. The Continent was now Mor’s domain, but the secret goings of Prythian and the Mortal Lands belonged to him and him alone. The Spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadowsinger.
Azriel shook his head. “Quiet. Koschei hasn’t touched them yet as far as I can tell, and the Mortal Queens don’t care. They seem to think that they can handle Koschei because he’s agreed to bargains with them in the past.” 
You made a noise of disapproval. “Like they handled Hybern? The only reason they’re still standing is because fae fought their war.” 
The scattering of human armies that had arrived on that battlefield had belonged to no crown. They’d either fought for the bloodlust or the money. You could respect them for that. 
Azriel tipped his head to the side, following the curling of his shadows around his shoulders. “But they are still standing. They don’t know what we sacrificed to keep them safe. That’s the problem with humans. They forget too quickly and get complacent” 
“It would seem we have the opposite problem. We can’t help but remember everything,” you said, with no small amount of bitterness. 
He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted your thoughts. Wanted to fall asleep to the sound of your voice after three weeks of silence. You weren’t aware of it, but the bond had felt thin the further he’d traveled away from you. Like a tightrope stretched to its snapping point. Now that he was back, and you were here, his heart didn’t feel like such a strenuous burden.
He smiled. “I think that’s just you. I know plenty of fae who are forgetful and empty-minded.” He leaned back, stretching his wings out to the side, and winced. They were whipped raw and tender from the flight. 
Without thinking you got up and moved to the fireplace, feeding wood to the flames until it crackled happily. There was a reason Cassian and Azriel loved to bath their wings in sunlight every chance they got. The heat helped the soreness and eased the wind’s rough edge. 
It also drove color into your cheeks and set your hair alight in a soft golden haze. You were a marvel. An angel with a halo to match and Azriel drank in the sight. 
“Like who?”
“Cassian.” 
You smirked and chucked the last of the wood into the flame’s gaping mouth. 
Cass was far from empty-minded, but after decades of being feared as the Lord of Bloodshed he was grateful that people loved him enough to be just a little mean. He gave and received friendly blows like kisses on the cheek and smiled all the wider for it. To threaten his life was the same as saying I love you. It must be why the Mother had made Nesta his mate. She said I love you to him all hours of the day. 
Azriel asked you what you were thinking, and when you told him he felt some of that pain slide off his shoulders like rain. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest started to hurt again and you thought about how rare that sound must be, and how much you loved it. 
“How are the others? Rhysand told me Feyre’s sister is down there along with your friends.” 
Azriel sobered up quickly and cleared his throat. “Yes. Elain, Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa.”
His voice caught on two names: Elain and Lucien, and it didn't escape your notice. He sounded... nervous.
“And? Are they alright?”
He rolled his shoulders and looked out the window to the inky black sky. Vassa would be sleeping now in her human form, and if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning still within the manor’s grey stone walls. Safe. Home. 
He shook his head gravely. “They’re nothing short of terrified. Koschei has Vassa under a spell that would normally keep her tied to his lake. He let her go during the war against Hybern and he’s been allowing her to stay, but… everyone’s just holding their breath and trying to prepare for the day he’ll take her back.”
You shivered and wrapped one of the spare blankets around your shoulders. You couldn’t imagine a life where every waking moment held the risk of being torn away from everything you held dear. The anticipation would have broken you more than the act itself. 
“I’ve heard of her. The firebird.” You murmured softly. You imagined a creature with glowing eyes, blue-red feathers streaking behind like ribbons set on fire. Azriel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and you explained, “Ares House records all wartime information. I read the reports. We’re very thorough.”
Azriel smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”
Silence passed in comfort, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Vassa.
“Do you think they’d be able to stop it if Koschei did make her go back?” 
“I don’t know, Y/n.” And it was driving him mad to have Koschei hanging around like a forgotten word at the end of his tongue.
“I hate this,” you spat out, “The not knowing. I hate it.” 
Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes silently begging you to continue. Shadows curled around your body, gently tugging you closer to him until your knees were a whisper away from touching. 
You both sighed softly into the quiet air. Even the River House seemed to be at rest for the night. The usual background hum of cooking and cleaning were absent. It was just you and the Shadowsinger. 
“How are things going? With the book?” 
You slipped your hand through the slit in your robes and pulled it out. The gold chain rustled, glowing faintly from your touch. 
“It’s going.” You shoved the book back out of sight. You couldn’t even stand to look at it after the hours you’d spent agonizing over its pages. “Rhysand’s been teaching me to contain my power better. I can actually touch some things now.” 
But not him. Still not him. And it was killing you. 
Azriel gave another one of his small smiles. The ones that never failed to make the world a smaller, more manageable place. “That’s good.”
“I just… this may sound silly but, I’m not used to things being this hard. With my powers a lot of things just sort of came naturally for me. But now people are dying and I’m just sitting here on this very expensive couch and I can’t do the thing I was brought here to do and I… I don’t like feeling this useless.” 
“Hey, hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. He closed the space between you even more, shadows hovering over your face in silent permission. When you didn’t pull away they brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over your face with a cool, silky touch. 
Azriel was all calm darkness and you imagined that if you reached out to touch his chest your hand might just slip through him like he wasn’t there at all. He seemed too good to be real. 
But he was real, and he was sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheeks. 
“You’re not useless. Never believe that. Not even for a second. And even if you were useless, it wouldn’t matter. You’re worth more than the things you can do, remember?”
“I remember.” Your voice was quiet and thick. 
You rested your cheek in the crook of your arm as you gazed at him wearily. 
Azriel kept his hands out in the open, one hand reaching across the couch cushions before stopping mere inches away from yours. His shadows closed the remaining distance, slipping in between your fingers to mimic Azriel’s touch. 
“Did you uncover any more secrets of mine while I was gone?” Azriel asked as your eyelids began to droop. 
“I confess I forgot to look. But maybe now that you’re here, I’ll start again,” you mumbled into the encroaching dark.
“I look forward to it,” were the last words that filtered through your ears before you fell asleep to the untranslatable whispers of shadows. 
Nyx bounded down the stairs, leaping the last six steps before landing soundlessly on the floor with a soft bend of his knees — just like Azriel had taught him. Feyre gave a proud nod before ruffling his ebony hair and Rhysand beamed. 
Let me. Feyre adjusted the wrappings around Rhys’s chest that kept Velaria’s plump body swaddled and comfortable. Her pink lips opened in a yawn that had both mates sighing. 
“Uncle Az!” Nyx raced forward towards the sitting room and then froze, mouth opened in a surprised oh.
Azriel slept like the dead on the floor, chest rising and falling with the beat of his gentle breath. You lay stretched out on the couch, one arm propped beneath your head and the other dangling over your waist and off the cushions. Your fingers swayed an inch above Azriel’s chest, shadows swimming over his torso and creeping up your arms so that even in sleep you were connected to one another. 
Feyre gasped softly at the picture. The sunlight blanketing the both of you in peach fuzz. The faint uptick of Azriel’s lips and the smoothness of his brow. The way you looked like you were bleeding into him. The black of his shadows and your robes. 
Rhysand rubbed Nyx’s shoulder and kissed Feyre’s cheek.
Let them sleep, Nyx. We’ll get breakfast at Huth’s today.
Nyx let his parents lead him towards the door without protest. He’d never seen Uncle Az sleep so soundly in his life. 
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
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Author's Note:
Yeah... this slow burn is burning... but I just love it so much and I love writing all the sweet little moments they have and their conversations with one another and I hope you're enjoying it as well.
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lunargrapejuice · 2 years
Text
when you sleep on the couch after an argument (except its more like the guest room)
diluc ragnvindr x reader
2.1k+ words | zhongli + alhaitham
warnings: hurt/comfort, more hurt on dilucs end im sorry baby❤️ no pronouns used
hello yes not even 24 hours later i'm back with more angst
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“just forget i said anything diluc,” you sound as defeated as you feel. it could be so difficult trying to get through to a man as stubborn as him and it only upset you more when you started to lose your cool while diluc remained impassive about the whole situation. you’ve always known he had a difficult time expressing his emotions, especially the more uncomfortable ones like you both feel so swirling in your hearts right now, but that didn’t stop you from wishing he would let you in just a little more when you opened up about your own. you don’t know how long it’s been since the argument started, too long, long enough for the late afternoon sun to turn into dusk. by now your throat hurts, your eyes sting with frustrated tears, your lungs feel like they're suffocating in the heat of the room and all you want is for this to be over, to stop hearing his frustrated tone normally reserved for annoying bar goers and other annoyances being used to speak to you. how much longer could you take of this before you broke.. “i’m too tired to keep going on like this..”
“we’ll be finishing this discussion later.”
the coldness of his tone is the final blow to the cracking dam that was your tear filled eyes. with your back turned towards him, your steps quiet and shaky, you try your best to hide the quiver in your voice as you whisper a small ‘okay’ before exiting the study, softly closing the door behind you. thankfully most of the staff was gone by now and you could walk to your room with your head hanging low, without the embarrassment of them seeing you and accidentally making your tears worse. 
you know you won't be able to sleep despite how exhausted you feel but you lay down and curl up in the plush duvet anyways, hating and loving how it smells of cedar, wine and a hint of smoke. you don’t know if the scent of him is making your tears better or worse but you don’t move from the bed until the sun sets behind the open curtains and you hear the large mahogany doors of the manor shut as your beloved heads towards the city. realizing a little too late how it would affect your already fragile heart, you rise from the bed and watch from the window as his figure disappears into the night.
all at once everything feels like too much and you find you can’t handle how every inch of this room feels clouded in your frustration and sadness. you couldn’t be in here, you wouldn’t find sleep with his scent lingering on the sheets. in your upset and frustrated mind you didn’t think you’d find comfort in any reminders of him but you soon found the guest room was not much better. it hadn’t been touched in so long, probably before you even knew diluc, and not a single thing in here is a remnant of him, it’s everything you hate about the room but you weren’t sure which was better. in the end it didn’t really matter, no matter where you were you were bound to cry yourself to sleep, hating that you’d still feel this way when you had to face this argument again in the morning.
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“we’ll be finishing this discussion later,” he says, forcing himself to tear his attention away from you and return to the paperwork that needed to be filled out hours ago. you were getting nowhere like this, you both knew it and the only way he knows how to calm the uncomfortable tightness through his whole chest, that creeps up his spine and rattles his stolid demeanor, is to throw himself into his work, and he does just that. 
he hardly notices the sun set and the darkness throughout the study as he gets through contract after contract. only when the words on the parchment became not enough to distract him from your argument and he was finding it harder to ignore the emotions still coursing through his veins was he pulled from his work. despite the late hour there was still so much to be done, the night was far from over for him. he slips on his coat as he exits the study to head to the city but is stopped at the edge of the steps, his eyes drifting slowly towards your closed bedroom door. he swears he could choke on his heart in his throat. he does his best to swallow it, and takes some solace in the fact the room is dark. hopefully that means you’ve found sleep.
he doesn’t even make it to the city before every ounce of his frustrations is used to fuel the burning flames in every swing of his claymore; every hilichurl, every abyss mage and treasure hoarder that was unfortunate enough to come in his path feeling the searing scorch of the uncrowned king of mondstadt. 
as enemies lay defeated before him, proof of his anger, the feelings raging inside him turn from irritation at you for being stubborn, to confused frustration about the whole situation, to guilt ridden self loathing about his blindness and bullheadedness. why is it only now, as he analyzes the fight over and over, that he sees the tears pooling in your eyes, that he truly hears your words and that all you said came from nothing but concern for his health, all because you loved him and cared for him. it was him who was being stubborn. he pushed you away, he kept you at arms distance when you were so ready to accept all of him and tonight he pushed you even further from his heart but that was something he never wanted. without you -
his claymore clanks on the ground beside him as he tears off a sullied glove and rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger before running his hand through his frazzled locks, trying to compose himself. archons he hates this. he hates arguing with you. he hates feeling so far away from you even though he knows he has no one else to blame but himself. he hates seeing you cry and even more than that, he detests being the one to cause your tears.
his aching heart leads him home, sending a plea to the universe that you’re still asleep and you will stay asleep as he holds you tightly against him, not caring how desperate his grip will be. he knows he messed up and when you awake tomorrow he’ll apologize from the bottom of his heart and keep his promise to do better, accept his consequences but tonight he can't be away from you any longer.
with quiet footsteps he makes his way up the grand staircase and to your shared bedroom, shaking hands quietly closing the door behind him. the sweet smell of you wafts faintly in the air and lessens the pressure tightly in his chest. hanging his coat on its hanger by the door, shedding his vest and changing from his day clothes to something more suited for sleep he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with you. but as he steals glances at the bed, while normally hard to make out much through the drapes on the canopy, he notices how empty the bed looks. it has his heart pounding in his chest but he remains rational, it's dark and you often like to curl up, it’s oka-
he pulls back the drapes on your side of the bed, slowly at first, but when he sees the bed is completely devoid of you his body goes rigid, the heat his worried heart flares up nearly catching the drapes on fire. letting out what was supposed to be a breath to relax him, to not let his mind run with the worst of assumptions, with the fear he refused to let form fully until now- was this fight really enough for you to leave like this? had he lost you thanks to no other than himself, rather than the darkness that usually took those he loved- of perhaps he was the dar- no diluc. get a grip. 
he had to think rationally before he burned all of teyvat down in search of you.
plenty of times you’ve fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for him to return, he hadn’t even thought to look there when he came home- his tunnel vision bringing him to the place you should be. gripping tightly onto the banister, he quickly makes his way down to the parlor and feels his barely held together calm slip completely when you’re nowhere to be found. 
every door, even ones that don’t make sense- closets, the pantry, the cellar- are thrown open in search of you. every guest room that hasn't seen a guest in so long has the master's attention, one by one turning up empty, taking more of his sanity until he feels like he's suffocating. there’s only one more guest room left and he doesn’t waste a moment opening the door and lighting the candle by the bookshelf to illuminate the room and hopefully you. 
he honestly isn’t sure how he makes it to the bed. he swears once he sees you laying in the normally untouched sheets his knees threaten to give way but nothing could stop him from holding you. he had to, if he didn't, what was the possibility this wouldn’t be real or that you’d slip right through his grasp while he was unable to do anything.. even if that chance was miniscule, it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. he couldn’t imagine his life without you, more than anything else in this world he loved you.
shaking hands that grip and pull you harder than they intended to make it impossible not to be stirred from your restless sleep but you don’t question who it is, this warmth could only belong to him. you attempt to sit up to get a better look at him, to rub the sleepiness from your puffy eyes, but his arm wrapped around your middle and his other hand buried in your hair holds you steady against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, tickled by soft vermillion locks.
“‘dil-”
“please forgive y/n..” he pleads softly. “i’m sorry for being so stubborn, i regret you see that part of me from time to time but y/n.. i.. i love you more than i know how to express.. i will do better for you.  i can’t- i can’t lose you.”
“lose me?” your tired mind finally registers just how hard his heart is beating against your chest, how his breath is uneven, that his grip on you keeps growing tighter with each passing moment. it's almost crushing but you don’t protest, you need it just as badly as he does. pressing your head against his shoulder, accepting him completely, you speak honestly and hope he’ll hear the love behind your words. “‘luc, i’m not going anywhere.”
“i don’t know what i’d-”
“my love, you don’t need to worry about that,” your lips find his exposed neck and you place a tender kiss against his porcelain skin. “i’ll always be by your side. nothing will change that.”
you swear you feel his heart skip a beat. “i do not deserve you.”
“that is far from the truth. you are deserving love and everything you could ever hope for-”
“you are all i hope for, all i need…”
his confessions of love continue, each one stealing your breath away, melting away any lingering sadness from your fight. he leaves you blushing, speeches and you can’t help but cling to him. all of his promises, all of his apologies, were so full of honesty and love, they consumed you, dilucs love encompassed you and you melted against him, your heart so full you didn’t know what else to do but cry.
somewhere in the eternal warmth of his love and words he had lifted you up higher to rest his forehead against yours, to feel your touch, leaning into every brush of your fingers behind his ear as you moved hair out of his face and returned his love in kind. 
only celestia would know how long you spent spilling the contents of your hearts until tears of love and pure exhaustion brought you both to sleep in each other's embrace, in a bed that wasn’t your own. but it didn’t matter, wherever you were together the flames of your hearts burned brightest and couldn’t be torn asunder. 
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genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
9K notes · View notes
beardedjoel · 7 months
Text
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smother - part ii: resistance
dark!joel x f!reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi
summary: joel knows how to break you just right, to get you feeling helpless enough to accept what he believes you need. somewhere deep inside of you, you think you might like it. 10.9k words (sorry) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) masturbation (m), nipple play/groping, manipulation, joel def has a corruption kink, joel gets a bit violent in this chapter, y'all get a lot of touching and (kissing), if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: okay i'm even more nervous about this chapter than the first, idk how it got so long but i really hope its tense and enticing for you all! i love writing dark joel, this has been such a thrill so far tbh! get buckled in for heavy duty smut next chapter too ✌️
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Light spills in around the thick, heavy curtains, drawn tightly shut. Just a glowing sliver on the edges and underneath, telling you it’s at least well into the morning, that you’ve been asleep for longer than you’d expected to. Your brain is a scrambled, hazy mess from the way you’d finally been able to pass out, still encumbered by Joel’s grasp holding you down. After a while his heaviness had a calming effect, the opposite of what you’d ever thought would happen when he first came into your bed last night. But now, he was nowhere to be found, the other side of your bed cold and empty, such a stark difference that you start to wonder if maybe you’d imagined it, dreamed it all last night. 
You get up to let some light from the day in, your eyes burning as they adjust and you see that it looks to be late afternoon already. How many hours had you been out for? 
Recollections of the night before flood your brain - Joel’s warmth pressed so close to you, his hard body molding softly into yours like he knew how to keep you safe, take care of you, just like he’d said. Yet there’s still an unease surrounding the thoughts, that he’d made the decision for you, came into your bed and lied. It sends a shiver up your spine, half thrill and half fear as you contemplate what you should do next. Maybe plotting a way to Jackson is the right move, but something about Joel was keeping you here, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet. It was more of a feeling, something indescribable that came over you when thinking about him. 
Could he really save you, like he said? Or was he just a sick old man with a fantasy? One he’d fulfill before tossing you out just as easily as he’d taken you in.
You sigh heavily and sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You finally decide you have to leave this bedroom sometime and face Joel again to see if those same confusing feelings from last night persist, or even to clear the air between you two. You freshen up a bit with a toothbrush and homemade toothpaste that Joel had left out for you before fixing your hair to an acceptable enough level. You creep out of the bedroom, soft and quiet movements with socks padding your feet as you listen to hear what Joel is up to downstairs. No sounds of cookware or silverware clinking on plates, no rustling on the pages of a book, no distant sound of him chopping wood outside again. Until you do hear something. 
A sound almost in between a whimper and a groan, and it’s right there, the door diagonally down the hall from yours. You freeze, brows knit together as you wait to try to hear it again. The next time you hear it, it’s more urgent, more gruff, a loud exhale. Was it a pained sound? You couldn’t quite tell as you walked closer, noticing the light spilling from a crack in Joel’s door out into the dim, windowless hallway. 
One peek through the opening in his door has your eyes widening. A gasp sticks itself in your throat but you clap your hand over your mouth when you take in the sight before you. Shit…
All your eyes immediately focus on is Joel’s cock, heavy and thick, hanging out of his pants in a tight grasp in his hand. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, practically in perfect view through this open sliver in the doorway. His eyes are closed, lost in the moment as he grunts a little bit more. You avert your eyes almost immediately, standing frozen with your cheeks burning. You’re not completely unaware, and you do have an idea of what he’s doing. You can’t help but flick your eyes back to him as another strained exhale leaves his lips, your eyes drifting down to where he’s sliding his hand in quick jerks. His cock is pink and slick as he runs his hand along it, and you start to tune into the lewd, sloppy sounds that it's all making as flesh hits flesh over and over again. You squirm in place, feeling your knees go a bit weak before you finally notice it. 
Your underwear. 
It feels like something screeches to a halt inside of you, everything moving in slower motion for a few seconds as this information sinks in. Joel’s face, turning more red and eyes rolling back as he pumps his cock with your underwear from yesterday in his other hand, a fist tightly wrapped around the material. You shudder, but find the little zing traveling further to a spot right between your legs, making you clench your thighs together tighter.
It’s all so… so… a feeling you can’t quite explain that starts to make your skin hot, and a scene you don’t know if you want to stop watching. You are just curious after all, you lie to yourself in those few seconds of continued peeking on Joel’s private moment.
You sense a difference in his movements, flashing your sight up to his face where his eyes are open now, gaze locked on yours, heavy lidded as a smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t stop, though, like you thought he would, and it practically steals the breath from your lungs. 
“Oh… sh- sorry,” you blurt out, panicky and quiet before you can think about it, covering your eyes with your palm and hastily pulling the door shut. 
Joel can’t stop smiling, a wry, devilish thing as he continues in fast, long strokes on his cock. You knowing exactly what he’s doing in here is only urging him on even more, the look in your eyes as he’d caught your stare on his glistening, ruddy cock making him harder. 
His smile grows when he realizes you haven’t stopped enjoying the show, not at all, despite your appearances of shutting the door behind you. What he realizes you don’t know, is that he can see the shadow of your feet underneath the door, tiny, anxious movements that catch the light and cast shadows. 
If you want to listen, he’s surely not going to disappoint you, another little groan slipping past his lips and he tightens his grip and speeds up, picturing you in his mind. He can practically see it now, one of your perfect little hands clasped over your mouth outside his door, trying not to make a peep, your body rigid as you lean closer to listen. Those perfect little hands that should never have to lift a finger, should always be taken care of. A pulse of pleasure wracks his body at the thought of him being the one to do that for you. 
“Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuuuuck…”
A few more swift tugs on his length and he’s stuffing your underwear right at the head of his cock, thrusting once and cumming hard into the fabric with a loud moan, the only thing on his mind the mental image of you in nothing but these. 
He’s not too weak to admit he’s already completely addicted to you. Your pretty face, the way you’d finally given him those few little smiles yesterday. How you fit so wonderfully in his arms last night once you’d decided that you needed him. Joel knows he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you as his, to make sure you understand just what you need, how you need him. He sighs as he leans back a moment, then stares down at your underwear, his creamy release staining it now looking like one of the most beautiful sights. To paint you with it himself would nearly kill him, send him into a point of no turning back. No, there’s no doubt now that he’s addicted to this… And god help anyone who tries to take it from him, even you.
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The moment you hear Joel’s longer, drawn out groan you scurry away, light as can be on your feet and tiptoe down the stairs in a hurry. The mortification you’d feel if he opened the door to you standing there listening in is more than you can bear. You wish you hadn't been curious, hadn’t wanted to stop and stare just to watch just a bit longer. It wasn’t your fault that you felt completely embarrassingly lost when it came to… sex, but you know it was wrong to invade Joel’s privacy like that. He had left the door cracked, hadn’t he, though? Your brain devours the information, barely able to latch onto that train of thought before the next one comes barreling in. 
You pace back and forth in the kitchen, hands wrung anxiously over and over again in front of you. You gaze at the staircase practically every millisecond, waiting for Joel to come down, wondering if he will. You two have to confront this, right? He knows what you saw, and you certainly know what you saw, the image burned into your mind now. All the details seem hazy in your panic, but all you can think about is your underwear in his hands, and how your current pair feel damp now against your own will. You’d felt this before - attraction and arousal - but not like this. You had been so close to everything this time, not just hearing stories or thinking about kissing a boy you thought was good looking. This was a full fledged man, pleasuring himself right in the next room to you. It makes you break out in a sweat, your body hot and breathing shallow as the floorboards creak under your rushing movements. 
You sigh and continue pacing for another moment before trying to make yourself busy by putting on the kettle, maybe to make some tea, something to calm your frayed nerves. If Joel didn’t wind up kicking you straight back out into the wilderness after that debacle, you’d be surprised. Maybe you should think about kicking yourself out to avoid any of this awkwardness. You make a split second decision to grab your things and go, your first steps out of the kitchen interrupted by heavy footfall upstairs, lazily making its way down to you.
You stand frozen, your plan quickly forgotten when you see Joel, moving with confidence, his steps nonchalant and unhurried as he approaches with a satisfied look on his face. Not angry, not embarrassed, just a casual, almost smug look plastered on his features. You look at a spot past him before dipping your eyes to the floor, your face already heated and flushed. He’s wearing jeans again but this time with a plain, moss green henley shirt rolled halfway up his forearms. Another shirt showing off his strong, muscular form, and it’s killing you inside, especially now that you’ve seen just that much more of him. 
“Sit,” he says plainly, finishing his walk to the kitchen table where he pulls out a chair, settling himself down. When you dare to glance in his direction, he’s giving you a look that sends a shudder up your spine, already knowing he’s about to ask much less nicely if you don’t heed his words. Your shaky hand pulls out a chair, perching yourself on the edge, hands holding on to one another for dear life in your lap. You feel like a child about to be scolded for doing something naughty, and you suppose in many ways that’s exactly what’s happening right now. 
“J-“ you start, with Joel cutting you off before you can even get a syllable out. 
“You enjoy listenin’ to that little show? Gettin’ a little peek?” Joel asks smoothly, a hint of irritation but also gratification in his tone. He leans forward onto the table with his forearms pressed against the wood. 
“N-no I didn’t… I mean I didn’t see much. I didn’t hear… I swear. I’m really sorry, that just made things so… uncomfortable…” you ramble on, feeling like a bumbling idiot as you’re sure your body is about to catch fire. 
“Did it?” Joel asks, eyebrow lifted in casual questioning. It makes you stop, your lips sitting parted with words you can’t express, clouded by confusion. 
“Well… didn’t it? I’m - I don’t know what’s… normal… That didn’t feel…” Your eyes search his face wildly, and you know he can see you, trembling like a fawn stood in the clearing of a forest just before it bolts. 
Joel sighs out a long exhale. “Seems like you enjoyed it, standin’ outside my door.” He states it as a fact, not a guess, and your stomach twists as it sinks. How he knows is beyond you, and you can only sit in your shame now, eyes fixed downwards on the table. You’ve never found knots in wood so interesting before as you stay transfixed by the glossy surface.
“Nothin’ to be ashamed of. Just curious, weren’t ya?” he says, his voice rumbling softly. His hand inches towards you across the table and you finally get the nerve to look up at his eyes. They’ve gone gentler, full of understanding. You’re sure your expression gives everything away, your shock, your intrigue at what you’d witnessed. “Weren’t you?” he asks again, and you finally give him a little nod.
His lips twitch upwards in a wry grin just as the kettle starts to whistle, the sound ramping up rapidly into the silent room. You both stare at each other for a few moments, still processing your answer to him. The screeching reaches a fever pitch, making your skin start to crawl, so you push your chair out in a hurry to grab it off the stove. Joel’s hand shoots out, his large hand snatching your thigh, fingers wrapping around and digging into the flesh through your sweatpants. You halt, your ass plopping right back into the chair as Joel stares at you through narrowed eyes.
“I’ve got it,” he says sternly. He waits a moment longer, making sure you’re fully seated and about to heed his words before standing up. The kettle is at a deafening scream, but Joel seems in no hurry, sauntering over to the stove. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the sound tapers off, Joel setting the kettle to the side while he busies himself with reaching up to some open shelving along the wall where you see several jars full of different types of tea leaves. He’s silent, moving slowly, as if to make you sweat it out, and you admit that his plan is working. You don’t know the last time you felt such an odd, burning fear inside of you. Different than facing infected, than being so hungry without knowing where your next meal is coming from. It’s primal, deep down inside of you, meek little claws in a vice grip at the core of you, a burning that travels downward repeatedly, right between your legs. You notice you’ve started trembling without even realizing it.
He brings a steaming mug over, setting it on the table in front of you. It smells mainly of chamomile, maybe some lavender - you see Joel read your mind on wanting something for your nerves. Instead of retaking his seat across from you, he walks around the table, doing a slow, deliberate lap. His feet, although shoe-less, make an impact along the floor, and you feel like each one sounds like a drum along with the way your heart is beating in your ears. He circles back and pauses behind your chair, sliding his forearm across your chest, tucking it close to your neck.
You really were trapped now. Not just by your own mental doing, unable to make yourself leave at the first sign of trouble with this man for god knows what reason, but truly, physically ensnared by his embrace. His arm wraps tighter across the top of your chest, his hand squeezing on the shoulder where it snakes around.
“Tell me…” he leans closer, lips coming to your ear, a hint of a smirk in his tone although you can’t see his face now. “That the first cock you ever seen? Or just the first time you seen one like mine?” 
Your head swims, unsure of how to answer. He has you trapped with this question, either answer damning to you. You sputter and scoff out a chuckle, shaking your head. 
“No, you say? Which one, honey, c’mon it’s a simple question.” His arm tightens, fingers digging in along your shoulder. “No judgement here, just a curious man, thas’ all.” He says the words as if he’s expectant of a certain answer for you, following a hunch and looking to confirm it for himself. He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows you so effortlessly, reads your mind like it’s the simplest thing in the world. You worry he sees right through you right down to your debased thoughts, the ones where you give in to him and these foreign feelings you want to chase.
You shake your head again. “I haven’t…” Your cheeks burn with the confession, hoping he won’t make you actually say the words. You struggle uncomfortably in his grip, his scent invading your senses now as well, mint and leftover coffee from this morning and your stomach burns so hot you think you might be sick now. He responds with a tighter grasp, his arm starting to press a bit on your windpipe.
Joel blows out a breath, the sound nearly grating next to your ear. “Never seen a cock before till today? Till you saw mine the way you did? That so, darlin’?” He sounds amazed, excitement creeping into his voice. 
You swallow hard, fighting back tears, but you nod for him. “Y-yes…” you admit with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to cry again in front of Joel. 
“Oh, hey, hey, that’s okay. Must be an awful lot to see it jus’ like that, no context for any of it…” he murmurs, his voice oozing a sick sympathy as you sense his excitement building. “Shouldn’t have had to see it as a surprise. If it were up to me, darlin’, I’d have made sure it was perfect. Y’would’ve been amazed by the things a cock like mine can do for ya.”
He tuts quietly, his lips grazing along the shell of your ear. You squirm a little, your breathing picking up as you strain against him. You remember how much you’d liked his lips right under your ear last night, how badly you’d wanted to hate it, but here you were yet again, enjoying it. 
“Now I’m gonna ask you somethin’, honey, and I want you to be honest with me, mkay?” Joel says. Your options feel limited so you motion with a nod for him to go on, his arm digging into your throat further when your head bobs down.
“Be honest, now, remember.” He squeezes your shoulder hard. “How old are ya, honey?” His lips graze your ear again and your legs tense, thighs pressing together. You nearly have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the little moan that wants to slip out of you. 
You chew your lip, telling him the truth before you can even think about it too hard. “I’m nineteen.” You don’t know why you tell him the truth, why you give him any part of you, but you do. 
“Hmm,” he murmurs in a low little groan. His fingers brush along your shoulder, across your chest a bit, loosening his tight grip. “Thank you for tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart. I appreciate that.”
“H-how old are you?” you ask in return, getting a haughty chuckle from Joel. 
“Older’n you,” he says simply, a little growl caught in the back of his throat as his nose buries itself in your hair, taking in a deep breath.  
“B-but I told you…” you whimper a little as he tightens his hold again, leaning further to press his head into your shoulder and neck. 
“Why d’ya wanna know? Wonderin’ why an old man like me is gettin’ your panties wet?” he asks, amused at your expense, knocking you down just one more peg. 
You blink hard and feel yourself flushing again, warmth radiating throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips. You’re angry that he seems to know every damn thing about you, and you feel like you know nothing about what he’s thinking. “I don’t understand… any of it. Why -“
“It’s all natural, sweetheart. Happens when you find yourself likin’ what I’m doin’,” Joel tells you, voice starting to sweeten like honey. His hand strokes your hair, smoothing the sides. 
“I know…” you bite back, only to feel Joel move his forearm closer to your neck. Your breath hitches. “I just mean… I - I want to know how old you are.”
“You persistent little thing…” He smirks again, looking impressed by you. “I’m in my fifties, that’s all y’need to know.” He pauses for a brief second, not wasting a second to keep contact with your skin, his calloused fingertips stroking along the hollow of your neck. They trickle down, gentle and fluid as water as he ghosts along your chest and over your stomach. You shudder and try to keep your eyes open, succumbing to the pleasure of it all - nobody has ever touched you like this, taken their time to feel you out and seem interested in every part of you. It’s a slow, tortuous movement while his arms reach down over you, thick muscles on display, until his fingertips brush along your waistband. They trace back and forth along the crimped edges of the band, tied tightly. He plays with the strings, a clear contemplation to untie them any second. It makes you start to tremble even more, the way you feel powerless and know you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to.
Joel abruptly stops, pulling his arms back before he starts to walk around the chair, standing in front of you now. He doesn’t crouch to your height, standing tall and proud as he towers over where you sit. His fingers reach forward slowly and gently, thumb and forefinger taking your chin delicately, holding it like something he might break. You can finally see his expression, look into his eyes, and they’re a dark abyss full of mystery and that hungry look he’d flashed at you a few times yesterday. 
“Get the sense you’re feelin’ a bit scared right now, hm?” he suddenly asks.
You swallow and then nod for him, eyes barely blinking as you try to keep track of every single movement he makes. His grip on your chin flashes tighter for just a moment before he lets it go, leaving a little red mark in his wake.
“Good girl.”
Your stomach turns as you realize he wants this, wants your fear to permeate the room so he can devour it, to know that he has this hold on you. Joel leans forward, one hand planted on the table next to you, the other coming down to rest on your thigh. He’s tender in his touch, letting his hand soothingly find its way up your leg.
Joel’s eyes bore into you, trying to capture your attention and hold it, but you can barely summon the courage to look into those dark pools, worried they’ll draw you in forever. Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on your shaky inhales and exhales as Joel’s hand rubs your thigh.
“Don’t you like it, sweetheart? Feels good to be touched here, doesn’t it?” You don’t answer him, eyes squeezed shut even tighter, a quiver starting on your lips. You try to ignore the way your body responds to the touch, skin blazing right where he’s touching and that pooling of heat starting between your legs.
“Now c’mon, open your eyes f’me. I want to take care of you, honey. Jus’ like we agreed to last night. You need me to take care of everythin’ for ya, never make you have to worry or lift a pretty little finger again. I can show you everything.” Joel pauses, waiting to see if you’ll heed his command. His hand wraps a little tighter around your thigh, fingers squeezing.
“I said… look at me. Open your eyes. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” His voice has a shake to it from trying to keep it even amongst his building frustration, his desire to have you under his thumb already. You finally brave it, your eyes opening slowly to find a softer smile playing on Joel’s lips as his face comes into focus, just a few inches from yours now.
“I want you all to myself… d’you understand what I’m sayin’?”
You nod. His smile grows, much more foreboding now.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, fingers squeezing your thigh again, brushing his thumb along the inner part, sending a set of sparks hurtling up your spine. “And you’ll stay? Won’t try to get away from me, will you?” he asks, a wicked raise of his eyebrow telling you there’s only one correct answer here.
Your face falls a little bit. “Wh- what would you do if did?” you dare to ask.
He laughs, a mirthless chuckle before he can even stop himself. “Oh, honey, what’re you gonna do? Where’ll you go? You wouldn’t get barely ten steps outside this door ‘fore I got to ya.” His eyes pierce yours before studying your face for a few moments, challenging you. “Best that you don’t even try, yeah?”
You don’t reply, hoping that the fear in your eyes and trembling lips are answer enough for him.
“Come and sit w’me, how about that? I’ve got a few more questions for you.” Joel offers you his hand and you pause, eyes fixed on his tan, rough skin - hands that have worked hard for an entire lifetime. He takes the initiative to grasp your hand instead, giving you a quick tug that has you standing up to start following him. He completely dwarfs you in every way, his hand practically enveloping your entire fist as he pulls you along towards the couch.
You don’t know what otherworldly urge possesses you so suddenly, but you glance over towards the door, then back at Joel before you muster up everything you have and shove him square in the back, yanking your captured hand back in the process. He stumbles forward, your hand slipping from his and you quickly gain your balance and bolt. You reach the front door, fumbling with the lock and knob as you hear Joel grunt loudly behind you. 
“Don’t you understand? There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” he calls after you angrily. You don’t dare turn around as you fling the door open with a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, feet moving of their own accord as you sprint down the stairs and towards the oncoming woods. You can hear Joel’s huffs behind you, both of your shoe-less feet pounding on the frozen earth. It hurts, the cold ground combined with all types of brush and wood littering the forest floor that are now jabbing into your feet with every step. This was stupid, this was a mistake, you’re going to die out here if he doesn’t do it first.
“God… damn… it…” you hear Joel pant behind you, knowing he’s close, that it’s almost over now. You’re weak and frail still, much too slow to outrun a towering powerhouse like Joel. He was right - there’s no fighting it, no escape from here unless he allows it. Maybe it won’t be so bad… maybe you do enjoy the way he speaks to you, the way he’s been touching you… maybe it’ll all be just what you’ve needed. You’ve always wanted more than what you had, wishing for someone to care just a little more, to have a family again.
You lose yourself to an almost transcendent train of thought, letting it wash over you. As if the universe was trying to tell you the right decision, you feel your foot collide with something sharp and you stumble, a sure way to get you back into Joel’s arms. He catches you as you go down, upper arm squeezed into his grasp as his other wraps around and yanks you by the front of your collar, tearing your shirt all the way down to the middle of your chest as he tugs. You’re pulled into his chest with a hard thud before you both go down with the momentum of it all, his body landing on top of yours on the hard, frozen earth.
“God damn it, girl, what the hell you think you’re doin’, huh?” Joel huffs out, arms pinning you down by the wrists as he breathes heavily right in your face. You grunt and struggle, squirming against the ground, but it only serves to help Joel push you into the frosty dirt even harder, his own grunts slipping out of his lips. 
“Like it when you struggle…” he says closer to your ear, leaning down. His lips turn into a chilling leer as he bares his teeth down at you. “But too bad we can't play a little longer, you’ll freeze out here. Get up,” he demands, pulling back and then fluidly plucking your body up off the ground as he stands. He hooks one of his arms through yours and begins drags you, your feet scrambling to keep up with how quickly he’s moving. 
You’d barely gotten far, just like he said you would - it’s only a short distance back to the cabin where he slams you against the wall, clutching one hand around your throat, not hard enough to put much pressure, just to show you he could, if he really wanted to. His body crowds closer as your back presses against the hard, unrelenting wooden logs adorning the outer frame of the cabin. The chill of the air settles in and you shiver, feet throbbing and chest prickling with goosebumps from the frozen air entering your lungs in large heaves. 
“Told ya, girl. You don’t need to go anywhere. All y’need is right here. I can do anythin’ I want with ya, can’t I?” He spits his words out angrily, eyes blazing. His head is cocked, looking down on you with scornful, yet hopeful eyes. His gaze travels to your chest, the way your shirt is torn to almost reveal everything there, eyes flickering hotly on the sight. Both of you stand with huffing breaths, chests heaving and letting out little cloudy puffs of air as your exhales hit the air. 
You nod, whimpering as his grip gets slightly tighter around your throat when you don’t answer right away. Your entire body trembles against him, afraid you’ll collapse any second as your knees buckle. His entire frame is pressed against you, keeping you upright, the warmth of him the only thing keeping you grounded and afloat right now.
“Thas’ right, it’s just me ‘n you out here. I’ll take real good care of ya, never let anyone hurt ya again. Ever.” A hand snakes around to your hair, smoothing it as he pulls your head off the wall, tracing his palm down as he pets you. “Now c’mon.” He yanks your entire body by the waist, holding you close as he hauls you back inside, pulling the door shut behind you two and locking it.
Joel brings you to his original destination before you’d run - the couch - and sits back, pulling you down with him, maneuvering you to settle on his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands wrap around your back in a possessive, tight hold. You squirm a little bit, the feeling of him enveloping you like this making you hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out over your entire body.
“S-stop…” you mumble as you continue to struggle, his hands only seeming to get stronger the more effort you put in. You start to shove and push at his chest and one of his arms comes from around your back to catch your wrists in one fell swoop, pinning them against his chest. 
“Better knock that shit off quick,” he commands, grunting as he continues to hold your squirming body. “You got me offerin’ you everything I know you want, and all I ask is you do what I want, sweet girl. Be here w’me.” His tone is somehow cruel and hard but soft and caring at once, like he really believes that he needs to act this way to care for you right now.
“N-no, you’re hurting me,” you cry out. “You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me…” You think that maybe your reasoning will have any kind of effect on him, and he only smiles softly. It disarms you a little, your struggle starting to die out as you look at the hidden anger behind the smile, the desire to let out the hidden beast within him. 
“Let’s get one thing clear,” he says, letting go of your wrists to grip your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them together. Your hands fall limply to your sides, skin burning on your cheeks where he’s pressing in harder. “Only I can make you feel pain. Nobody else. Nobody’s gonna hurt you when I’m around. And I’m the only one who can make y’feel good too, understand? But if you’re not gonna be a good girl ‘n pull this shit, I can’t help what I’ve gotta do to get you back to bein’ good, hm?” His eyes track across your face, awaiting a response. 
You shake your head in small movements, squeezing your eyes shut and squirming one final time to try to slide off his lap. He sees your desperate eyes and his blood rushes a little hotter through him, tugging you harshly to situate you back perfectly centered on his lap.
“Please…” you whimper quietly, unsure of what you’re asking for now. To be let go? To be held tighter? For someone to just make it all okay?
Joel drops your cheeks from his tight grip and looks at you a little more sympathetically. “Okay, okay, c’mon, no more strugglin’ sweet girl. I’ve got you. Not gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help ya.” 
He leans forward and his lips find your neck, peppering wet, urgent kisses from just underneath your chin all the way down to your collarbone. It’s all too much, the emotions bubbling up as the adrenaline leaves your body. You shake a little, feeling the now all too familiar sting of tears behind your eyes that quickly manifest as tears that roll down your cheeks. Joel must sense a heave in your chest as you try to hold back your sob because he pulls his lips off of you and looks up to see your eyes shining as tears start to fall at a more rapid pace. 
“Shh, shh,” he coos. Both of his arms wrap around your back and pull you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your head drops instinctively to his body and you find yourself wrapping your arms tightly around his neck before burying your face in his chest. 
“Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. Let it all out… shh…” Joel says quietly, his palms splayed along your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. You finally break completely, finally let yourself sob. Your entire body is wracked with shaking heaves of breath each time you start another wave of tears. You bury yourself deeper into Joel’s chest, your face burning red hot with embarrassment, but unable to stop nonetheless. He’s warm and soft against you, the comforting fabric of his shirt soaking up the tears you pour out. 
Joel continues his soothing ministrations, his hands uncharacteristically kind and sweet, holding the back of your head against him now, like he’s encouraging this, even, this release of emotion from you. It makes you sob even harder to realize the only person you have in this world to comfort you is a man you met yesterday, one who hasn’t shown you a consistent side to himself since then. You don’t know how long you cry for, the last two weeks of pure desperation and the flood of emotions since meeting Joel have all collided into this one meltdown, Joel’s chest taking the brunt of it as you continue sobbing.
“Oh, that’s it, there we go…” he hums calmly, his chin resting on the top of your head as he keeps stroking along your back. You finally start to let up, choking back little sobs as they climb their way up your throat. 
“Jus’ breathe… there ya go, honey. Take some deep breaths for me now, okay?” Joel says calmly, continuing to chant little encouragements in your ear. You turn your face to lay the side of your cheek along Joel’s chest for a moment, a few remaining hiccups shaking your body as you sniffle. Your entire face feels puffy, like everything is two sizes too big for you now, cheeks wet and sticky as your tears start to dry. You slowly lift your head up and Joel quickly catches your face between his hands, thumbs going to work wiping your tears.
“Beautiful…” he murmurs as his eyes scan your flushed, glowing face. His lips turn into a gentle, small smile while he continues to wipe down your cheeks for a moment longer. “Now don’t that feel better?” Joel looks at you with concern now, his head tilting as his fingers continue to stroke along your face. You look so broken and fragile right now - the thought exciting him, sending a twitch beneath his jeans that he doesn't even have the mind to be ashamed of. You're close... so close to being his.
“I g-guess…” you murmur, unable to say if it really does feel much better. You feel lighter now, unburdened of the pent up emotions that had been weighing you down the last few weeks, but you still had to grapple with the fact that you were here now, with a dangerous man who seemed intent on keeping you here no matter what.
“Listen, darlin’...” Joel starts, a heavy sigh escaping him. “You’re too sweet for this world, you deserve to be protected… That’s all I’m tryin’ to say here, to do here. You wanna know what I thought when I first saw ya?”
Your eyes widen in curiosity, letting him go on.
“Thought that the universe sent me a gift. One look at ya and I knew you had to be all mine. Like y’were made for me, I swear it…” he gushes before his eyes go more serious. “I can show you how good it all feels, sweetheart, d’you understand?”
You shake your head slowly. “S-show me how good what feels?” you ask tentatively.
Joel leans forward, his lips brushing along your jawline then ghosting to that sensitive spot under your ear. His breath tickles you in just the right way and you shudder, hating that he seems to have pinpointed your weakness.
“Show you… just how good it feels… to submit to me.” His lips press onto your neck gently, his tongue poking out to taste the salt of your skin. “Show you what your place is here.” He sucks a little harder on your neck, eliciting a tiny sound from the back of your throat. “I’ll give you everything, you’ll see. I can see you want it, sweet girl. I can see how badly you need it.” His hips thrust upwards into yours on his last words, grinding against you slightly. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips kiss your neck again, rough but gentle, as Joel always seems to be. You squirm, your body and mind still mixing signals with each other, unsure if you’re fleeing or giving in. 
You consider his words heavily, the weight of them pressing down on your chest, nearly choking you. It makes your entire body tingle, the way he’d said the word submit, not even fully understanding all of what that would entail. But he’s right, you do need someone, you need something in your life that won’t fail you or run or disappear. You’re desperate for it at this point, needing it like you need air and water. You’ve seen nothing but loss and sadness and lived with a desperation to just be loved and cared for in the deepest ways. 
Maybe it was fate, like he said. Maybe you were meant to stumble into that clearing just at the right time, just when you so fiercely needed everything he’s offering to you. 
He pulls back and stares into your eyes, trying to read the look behind them, trying to gauge how you’ll respond as you sit silently. You feel tears building on the rims of your eyes again, quickly wiping them away before they can fall. 
“Let me show you, hm? How I’ll take care of you.” He thumbs your chin as he stares at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. “We need to get some more food in you, darlin’. Barely ate a thing yesterday.” His bargains immediately begin to work as you notice your stomach rumbling and empty again as if on cue. You nod slightly and he gives you a half smile.
“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “Now hold on tight.” Before you can question him further on why, he’s lifting you up off the couch, and your arms scramble to fling around his neck so you don’t fall backwards. Your legs wrap around his middle for extra support as he carries you to the kitchen table, settling you down on top of it now, legs dangling off the side as he lets go of his grip under your thighs. You find yourself reluctant to untangle your arms and legs from his warm, safe body, but he begins to pull away, heading for the fridge. You watch him with a frown as he bends down, shuffling a bit in the fridge before pulling out an item wrapped in a thin cloth. He opens a breadbox on the counter and reaches in, tearing off a chunk of bread before plating it and unwrapping the block, revealing some type of cheese.
“Sheeps cheese from Jackson. And some bread I made. Should tide y’over till dinner time, don’t you think?” he asks, bringing the plate over. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, a silent command that you follow mindlessly before he steps in between your thighs. One hand brushes along your thigh as he gets closer to you, eyes pasted right onto yours. His near glare is nearly too much to keep focused on as he grabs the piece of bread and brings it up to your lips. You pause, gaze faltering as you scan his face, a little stunned.
“Y’need some food, darlin’. Now eat.” Another command, another test to see how pliant you are, how willing you are to accept the entire package he offered you. You crane your neck forward enough to bite down on the piece, tearing some off as he holds it for you, never breaking eye contact with him. His eyes quickly flash back to a satisfied, pleasant look from the darkness that had threatened them moments ago.
“Good girl.” The words burrow in a little more, your thighs tightening against his, sending Joel gazing down with a smirk pulling at his lips. “Another,” he says quietly, holding the bread up to your lips again. You don’t falter this time, taking a quick bite and chewing as Joel smiles down at you, letting his thumb brush across your lips.
“You’re bein’ so good f’me now, what happened?” he says smugly, picking up the cheese and feeding you again. Each time he does it, you take the food more eagerly, Joel stepping closer until he’s pressed against the table, his hips as close as they can be to the apex of your thighs. You can sense the excitement radiating off of him now, the pure satisfaction that you’re not putting up a fight, accepting the care he’s pouring out onto you.
“Now you see how I can take care of you, darlin’? That’s just a small thing, honey, makin’ sure you get fed. Now tell me how much you appreciate it, hm?”
You feel your cheeks warming up at the blatant coaxing from Joel, the way the heat of his body presses so close to you now as his finger lingers on your lip after the last scrap of bread goes in.
“T-thank you, Joel,” you say, quiet and mousy as you avert your eyes downward.
“Oh, such a good girl.” He pets the top of your head down the side, stroking a gentle, long path down to your shoulder. “Feel better now that we got you full?”
You nod, swallowing hard. “Y-yes, thank you.” Mousy. Quiet. The way Joel seems to like, the way that you can’t help but be when he questions you like this, when his eyes search your depths so intensely. Your heart clenches at just how quickly he’s already worked his way in, has you saying just what you know he wants to hear. 
“Not bad for an old man baking bread, huh?” he asks, winking as he caresses your cheek. You tilt your head down, failing to conceal your little smile in time as a breathy chuckle makes its way out of you. You can sense the lightness fill Joel and the entire room as he notices, cocking his head and leaning closer to you.
“That a smile I see, darlin’? You think it’s funny to call me an old man?”
You shake your head, pulling your lips tight to suppress your smile. “N-no, you’re n-not…” 
“Oh, too sweet, ain’t you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, drawing you close again. “Y’know, you’re so pretty when you smile. This old man’d like to see more of that, y’know.”
Your smile falls quickly as discomfort settles in again at the way he’d cracked through your façade just now.  “Why haven’t you just… hurt me yet? Or done what you want with me and tossed me out?” you ask suddenly, blurting the words out before you can think twice about the possible consequences. 
Joel clicks his tongue and lets his lips part slightly, showing his surprise - a rare moment from such a guarded man. 
“That what you think this is?” he asks quietly, forebodingly. The pure control in his voice is a skill that you can tell he’s exercised many times. “Just want to squeeze the life outta you and toss your body out for the damn animals? Or fuck you senseless then turn you to the cold? You really think that little of me after I fed you, clothed you, helped you?”
He doesn’t sound quite angry, but something deeper that takes a minute for you to register - you’ve hurt him. Wounded his ego, made a dent in this brick wall of a man. A power you suddenly wish you didn't have over him.
“I don’t… I don’t know…” you admit. “You scare me.”
He leans forward, his dark irises going icy as he captures your rapt attention with this one single glance. 
“I should,” he spits out with a twitch of his lip. “But only if you give yourself reason to, yeah? I never want to hurt you, sweetness, never.” He goes softer, brushing a finger along your cheek, sending you trembling with a quivering lip. “Jus’ want you to be here w’me, lettin’ me take good care of you, and you do the same f’me. Somethin’ so beautiful here, you ‘n I…”
You sigh heavily, your body slumping in defeat. You’re exhausted, your nerves frayed and mind overstimulated from all of the inconsistencies, the back and forth with him. If what he says is true, if he wants to treat you kindly, give you all he’s promised, you know what he expects in response. You can feel it in the undertone of every word he says, every tiny movement when he touches you. He wants you to belong to him, to have you sucked so completely into his world there’s no going back. To have you fear him and look in wonder at him and worship at his feet and let him touch you and feel you and be completely yours and you be completely his. Your head spins, a dizzy sickness overtaking you at how utterly lost you feel right now. How badly you crave it and are equally repulsed by it. 
You dip your head down, eyes on your lap as you let the wave of churning fear wash over you.
“Eyes up, darlin’,” Joel reminds you, fingers tracing on your thigh to get your attention. 
“I… believe you,” you say, turning your gaze to him again. It’s not an answer yet, not a yes or no or anything at all. A fact.
“I know you do,” he says, a serious expression curling into a smile. “Only say what I mean. Are we clear, then?”
Joel’s face inches closer to yours, leaving just a few inches between you, now. “Y-yes,” you mutter, rapidly scanning over his eyes to try to read anything there but the inky darkness that seems to permeate above all else.
“Good,” he says proudly. “Now gimme a smile, darlin’. Need to see you lookin’ happier ‘round here.”
You pull your lips into a tight smile that seems to suffice for Joel as he carries on, moving until his lips hover just above yours. You notice yourself starting to tremble a little bit, shoulders tightening up, and Joel holds you close as his brows come together.
“You ever kiss a man like me, darlin’?” he whispers, licking his lips.
Your lips part, words failing you for a moment as you contemplate him. Your throat is suddenly dry and itchy as you glance down at Joel’s lips. “N-no…” You shake your head. “I haven’t… haven’t been with… anyone…”
Joel stills completely for what feels like minutes, his lips twisted to the side in a wry smile now. “You sayin’ you’re a virgin?” he asks bluntly, his hands naturally tightening their grip on your back, fingers digging in as they slide a little lower towards your waist.
Your face burns first, then your entire body is set aflame as embarrassment sets in. You know you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you can sense Joel’s experience, almost having some strange need to impress him with your own, coming up empty. Your eyes look down, staring at the middle of his shirt before you nod once, blinking away a quick sting of tears at your sudden humiliation. 
“Christ,” Joel bites back all the things he wants to say for a moment and tuts as he notices your glassy eyes, scraping his fingers along your back. He tightens his hold on your waist and tugs you even closer so that your hips are flush with his. He moves his lips right next to your ear, making you shudder as they brush close enough to touch for a moment. “Had a feelin’. You have no idea… how turned on that makes me, sweet girl.”
Joel’s crude words have you gasping a little, a breath caught in your throat as you stutter out a sound to try to answer him. His lips press on your neck again, kissing a little more fervently down to your collarbone and then he pulls back, one hand going to your face to cup your cheek. 
“Such an innocent little thing… so sweet…” he murmurs. “‘S okay to touch me, y’know.” Your hands tingle with anticipation as he says that, but you don’t know how to move them, where to move them to, or if you want to touch him.
“I - I don’t…” You shake your head, and Joel captures one of your hands in his, holding it gently and rubbing his fingers along yours. 
“I got ya, I’ll show y’everythin’ you need to know, how’s that sound?” he says, gazing down at you intently, waiting with baited breath to hear your response. 
“You mean…” you ask, cheeks flushing as you’re unable to finish your sentence. Joel places your hand on his chest, spreading your fingers out to splay across the space between his pecs. He nods softly and you wiggle your fingers a little, feeling the planes of his chest, hard but warm underneath your palm. He glances down to where your hand explores a little more, running your fingers gently over to the right side of his pecs, then the left, and smirks. 
“I mean all of it, you sweet little thing. You don’t know how good y’could feel, do you?” Joel breathes a little heavier, his expression losing a bit of its controlled façade, that vague look of craving revealing itself in his eyes again. “I could give you so much… oh, you pretty thing, you need it.” He shakes his head in disbelief of everything he’s learned about you. “Untouched… so innocent…” he says more quietly, his hands finding their way back to your waist, thumbs hooking under the waistband at the back of your pants.
“I’m n-not sure… I-I don’t know -” you stutter as you feel his thumbs touch bare skin before one of his hands trails under your shirt, moving upwards. Your eyes blink a little slower, a flutter of your lashes as his calloused pads scrape along your skin, leaving a blazing trail that tingles all the way to the base of your spine. It pools quickly there, your core starting to heat up as his hand travels higher, the other playing at the hem of your shirt, starting to lift it. Your breath hitches, eyes going wider as your shirt moves, but you don’t squirm, don’t try to stop him.
“Y’do know. I can see you want it, sweetheart, look at how you respond to me…” He breathes in and out a little shakily. “Respond to a man takin’ good care of you…”
“W-what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your back almost halfway exposed to the air.
“Think you know what I’m doin,” Joel huffs a stony hearted chuckle. “Just wanna see how pretty y’are, take a peek, thas’ all.”
You shrink back a little, eyebrows pulled close together, shaking your head in small movements. “I’m scared…” you whimper finally, showing Joel the fear that’s been building deep inside of you. You don’t know how to want this, when to know your body is telling you it’s okay. You’ve somehow lost complete trust in any of your instincts, unsure of where along the way that happened. 
“I know, I know,” he purrs, still pulling your shirt higher. His lips dart down to your stomach, where your bare skin is starting to show, kissing sloppily along all the fresh skin he hasn’t seen yet. He starts speaking against your body, kissing in between his words. “Nothin’ to be scared of when you got me though, y’understand? You let me take care of you, and you’ll never worry a day in your life. Be my good girl, my everything. Just gotta trust me.” His nails dig into your back, a sweet, welcome pain, bringing you to the present. It’s too easy to lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his words. Your hand stays steadily placed on his chest, barely daring to move now.
You stare with your mouth open, and at your silence Joel drags his mouth up your chest and to your neck before looking at you expectantly.
“I don’t… know…” you murmur, less convincingly than the other times, an observation that Joel doesn’t fail to notice. He gathers the fabric of your shirt and tugs on the front hem of your shirt, pulling it taut along your back, drawing you closer to him as his lips sit merely an inch from yours.
“Think y’do know,” he says, greedy hands under the front of your shirt now, pulling the hem up. “I’ll be so gentle, honey…” He pulls your shirt up further and you drop your hand from his chest, allowing him the freedom of movement he needs to finish the job. 
“Okay…” you whisper, unsure if the two syllables even resonate far enough to reach Joel’s ears. You start to feel your legs trembling as you see his face registering your one word, the only thing he’d needed to hear. 
“Good girl,” he breathes out, exuding pure elation. “Oh, I’m gonna make you so happy, darlin’, gonna give y’everythin’.” He practically snarls as his hands get back to work on your shirt, lifting each of your arms to tug them through the sleeves, then tossing your shirt aside after it's over your head.
A growl tumbles out of his throat when he takes in your breasts, and you hunch your shoulders up a little more, your arm flying up to cover your chest now that it's exposed. Joel’s hand grabs your wrist, strongly wrapped around it as he tugs it away.
“Don’t have to hide ‘em from me, nothin’ to hide from me now,” he snaps, tossing your arm back to your side. His hands reach up to tease at the swell of your breasts, and you sit half in shock, letting his fingers send tingles across your skin as he explores your chest. He runs errant fingers down along the curves as he stares downwards. Your breath catches when he rubs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples, you back arching towards him as you gasp. 
“So soft ‘n pretty…” He grins, continuing to watch the way his hands work along your skin, a little more rough as he gropes your tits, rolling your nipples just to observe your reaction. The little pinch sends waves of arousal through your body, pooling deep inside of you, making you feel your underwear get damp again. You’re already panting, the sensations he’s bringing out in you so strong that you can hardly contain the little noises slipping out of you as he continues touching your chest.
“I - I’m…” you pant. “Joel…”
He pauses for just a moment, leaning closer and brushing his lips across your cheek. “Know you’re feelin’ good, aren’t ya?”
You nod dumbly, completely awestruck as he pinches your nipples again, sending your back arching and hips pressing into his. It’s maddening and confusing all in one, the way he’s able to work your body like this and make you feel a hot burning starting to blaze across your skin. 
“Pretty girl never had her tits touched, has she?”
You shake your head urgently, a breathy moan pulled out of your throat as he pinches and tugs a little harder on the hard buds. “P-please… stop… it’s too…” you whine, scrunching your face, unsure if you actually want him to stop. You feel wild, feral almost, the strangest sensation pulling at your insides as he tugs one more time.
Joel smirks in satisfaction, going back to caressing you more lightly, giving you some relief. One hand travels down to rest on your hip, the other up to your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. 
“You’re fun to play with, jus’ like I thought you’d be…” Joel muses as he touches your face. “You’re bein’ so good f’me, too, honey. Lettin’ me see you ‘n touch you.” He looks at you almost curiously now, like he’s studying you. 
“Think you deserve a little reward for bein’ so good for me, finally seein’ some sense.” He pauses, watching your face morph into a soft, intrigued look. “How’s that sound, hm?” he asks, pinching your cheek. 
You tilt your head at him. “A reward? Wh-“
“Exactly. If you act like a good girl, gotta reward ya for it.” Your heart beats a little faster as you take in his words, your thighs clamped as his voice comes out low and teasing. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his fingers around your cheek and pulling you closer as he leans in. “You deserve to feel good, do you realize that? You’ve been denyin’ yourself somethin’ so good, but turns out it was so that I could show ya.”
“I - Joel - I don’t know…” you blurt out, your stomach twisting. The fact you can barely say anything but those same three words over and over is starting to frustrate you. 
“Don’t go gettin’ shy on me now,” Joel replies, his hand now cradling the back of your head. “You’ll enjoy this.”
He leans forward again, completely closing the gap between the two of you as he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, testing you, and you blink once in surprise, not able to force yourself to press your lips back into his at first. But your body naturally starts to melt into him a little, his hand stroking against the back of your head calming you into submission. Your hands twitch forward, gently touching the bottom hem of his shirt and holding onto it just slightly. The feel of the fabric grounds you as you feel your lips press back into Joel’s, sending a wave of heat over your body. Your cheeks burn and your skin prickles as he groans quietly and pushes his lips a little more aggressively against yours before pulling back slightly. 
He looks down at you with a smirk. His hand digs into your waist a little harder, the possession he’s feeling clearly evident. 
“Tastes sweet, darlin’,” he says quietly before leaning back in, kissing you again. Your hand tugs a little harder on the bottom of his shirt and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure, like you’re about to burst into a million little parts like a piece of dropped china.  
His mouth opens and invites you to do the same, so you follow his lead. You’re frustrated, unsure of yourself, not understanding the way your body just moves with his, mirroring his motions. 
Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe your first kiss is supposed to feel just like this. Maybe you’re supposed to be afraid and unsure and terrified yet intrigued in a way you can’t ignore. You wouldn’t know any different, after all, and your body already yearns for Joel to keep going, to press his lips harder onto yours, to feel his warm, soft lips all over you. You don’t even quite understand where the thoughts come from, it’s like your body is telling you without your mind having to get involved. 
You open your mouth the tiniest bit, allowing Joel to kiss you deeper. He pulls back just enough to suck a little on your bottom lip and you whimper and your brows scrunch. How… how could it feel so good?
As if to send you asking that question a hundred more times, one of his hands skates his fingers up your spine and you shudder, falling apart just as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nearly gasp but find your own tongue hesitantly brushing against his. He hums quietly in satisfaction, continuing the motions of his tongue with small variations - darting into your mouth, licking your lip. 
You feel your entire being aching and warm now with the way Joel is pressed as close as he can, hips flush with yours. You want to move your own hips, to push them further and further, your body urging you on again without telling you quite what it’s doing. 
You yank your head back, completely breathless. Joel’s hand scrambles to the back of your head, holding it in place as he devours your lips again, not letting up just yet. 
“Wasn’t done w’you yet…” he mumbles before kissing you again, his tongue and lips more aggressive now as his hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping tightly. When he’s had his fill he tucks his head back enough to get a read on your expression, smirking. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the confusion, the struggle, but he welcomes it all, now. He knows he has you - his prize, his to keep, his to take. He can practically feel the ache of want oozing out of your pores now as you sit trembling slightly on the table, your soul and tits bared to him, equally enticing. A perfect paradox, he thinks.
You look so perfect - like a pure, innocent angel sent just for him. He knows you can be exactly what he’s looking for - someone to call his own, to protect and guide and keep close to him. His perfect girl.
He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent and musk like it’s the last time he’ll ever get a chance to before his lips rumble against you. 
“Lemme take you upstairs, show you how to be mine," he offers, in a way that's not an offer at all, but an instruction, a test.
He’s quiet and seductive with his words, a low, gravelly lilt to his voice that makes your head swim. You’re hazy, a practically drunk feeling coming over you now. You’d tried alcohol once, and you remember feeling a bit like this - cloudy and out of control of your own body. 
Before you can stop yourself, body buzzing and lips puffy and parted in need, you nod for him.
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reminder i have no taglist now! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs!
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byunpum · 1 year
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I can be a better father
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Pair: Tsu'tey x Child y/n x Child spider
Warning: Sad, jake being a bad parent, tsu'tey being the peer we all love. Neytiri being a sweetheart.
Note: I had a previous version, but I wanted to make this one from scratch. But if you want to read more about "bad dad jake" HERE. I hope you like it a lot, I really enjoyed making this oneshot.
Request: (anonymous) Idk if your the one who did Jake having a daughter from a one night stand thing and him and her having a strain relationship , I was thinking if Tsu'tey is alive and him seeing her and Spider being literally outcast and kinda neglected by the humans for one reayor another he kinda adopted both of them as his own ( and proybe bit petty for Jake being the way he is he do things better) Like reader just call Jake Jake and not dad but have a good relationship with their half siblings ( they call Tsu'tey dad and he may be rough he dose care about his kids )
Avatar masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3
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If there was one thing tsu'tey liked to do in the afternoons, it was to go hunting alone. Walking through the jungle, with his bow and enjoying the silence that the jungle provided. He was very comfortable in various branches and bushes, the austrapede was right before his eyes, standing still while eating grass. Just as he was about to shoot, he saw the animal raise its head in alertness and run away. At the same time, he heard a noise coming from his feet. Looking down, he found a small creature. Little Y/N. He relaxed his shoulders, and lowered his bow. Watching as the girl was still literally sitting on he feet with a fruit. The girl was moving the fruit up and down and tapping it on the ground in order to break it.
"y/n" tsu'tey speaks softly, watching as the little girl looks up to see her favorite person. "Tsu…look!!!" speaks the little girl, lifting the fruit in the air. Tsu'tey laughs a little, and kneels down so that he can be at the same height as the little girl. The girl gets up from the ground, and automatically approaches the na'vi. Showing her the fruit. " I want….hunger" y/n speaks, in a very basic na'vi language. The poor thing was trying to learn to speak na'vi and English at the same time. Tsu'tey takes the fruit in her hands, the fruit was very big for a little girl. "What are you doing here alone?" asks tsu'tey stroking the little girl's hands, noticing that she had some scratches and her clothes were all dirty. Out of nowhere, a noise calls her attention…looking up to some bushes ahead. Tsu'tey takes the girl by the arm. Hugging her in order to protect her. "Y/N!!! LOOK…I FOUND MORE!!!" shouts spider, running to the direction where the girl was. Tsu'tey's heart calmed down, as he saw the other human child passing by in the village.
The child run, and bumped into tsu'tey's arm which had them reached out for the child to hug him. "spider…what are you doing here?" asks Tsutey, he knew that spider spoke the na'vi language better and was more extroverted than y/n. "We were hungry and went out hunting" says spider, playfully gesturing with his wooden bow, which tsu'tey had given him as a gift a couple of months ago. "you guys are hungry…wow" says tsu'tey, watching as y/n settles more on his chest. Tsu'tey noticed that spider was also dirty and his tired little face was showing. "Are you tired?" asks tsu'tey, wiping some of spider's hair. They both nod their heads. "How about we go to my hut and I help you cut this fruit?" says Tsutey, the children got happy and started jumping up and down. Tsu'tey stood up and began to guide both little ones home. He didn't have to worry much, both children knew the way very well.
It was not the first time tsu'tey had encountered these two human children. Left alone in the jungle, without parental supervision. This made him uncomfortable and annoyed him. He knew that spider was the son of the man who had hurt his clan, his planet. And he also knew that Y/N was the daughter of jake, well…of the human version of jake. He knew the whole story, neytiri had told him. At first it all seemed strange to him, but with time he could understand. What he couldn't understand was why jakesully didn't love you and always rejected you in some way. Y/n was still his daughter…whatever it was. But apparently he didn't understand this, which caused the man to care much more about the young children. They were both 5 years old, and he could not stop worrying about the welfare of both children. At first it was difficult for him to get close to the two children, but he got used to it.
"Ok…sit over there…and I'll help you cut that fruit" says tsu'tey watching the children running around the hut. Laughing and playing as they sat down where tsu'tey had ordered them to. The man reached for a container of water and a cloth. He had to clean the children up a bit, it pained him to see them so careless. He sat down next to spider, while y/n sat on his lap. "Tsu…I want a giant piece" says spider, yelling a little. Tsu'tey tapped him on the glass of his mask. "Spider…don't scream…I'm right here beside you" says tsu'tey laughing as he watched the boy get up to start playing with some toys tsu'tey had. He made some wooden toys for when they would visit him at his home. "Let's see…you know what you have to do. Hold your breath, pull up your mask and put the fruit in your mouth" says tsu'tey handing a piece to y/n. She was sitting on his lap all this time, quietly.
After the children eat their fruit, he cleans the children. Cleaning their hands, face, combing some of their hair. He even put some beads in their hair, according to him to make them look more of the clan. "How about if I make you some new clothes?" said tsu'tey. The children were so happy, spider grabbed y/n's hand, inviting her to play with him. Tsu'tey enjoyed the view, watching the children play and run around the hut. This felt so good, he always wanted a family. It all seemed so far from reality…he had gotten the idea that he was never going to find his mate. And that he would never have a family. So he enjoyed these moments with the children. After a fun afternoon for him, he decided to take the children to their respective homes. That was the ugly place which humans called 'laboratory'. Tsu'tey had the children carried in his arms, spider was on his neck holding his head, while y/n was on his left arm. The child was holding a little flower she had found on the road. "Y/N!!!" a somewhat loud voice was heard from the distance, tsu'tey watched as jake approached him. The man approached tsu'tey, and tried to take y/n in his arms. But the little girl clung to tsu'tey's arms. "Come here…we have to go home. Where had you gone?" asks jake, his tone of voice sounding annoyed. "They were in the jungle…both children" says tsu'tey holding both children tighter. "I think they ran away from me and…" jake started to give an explanation.
"There is no excuse…you have to be more aware of them. If you don't want y/n, at least watch out for their safety," tsu'tey says even more annoyed. Jake remains silent, he knew his friend was right. Jake did love you, but he didn't have the same connection he had with his children. He was never there during your pregnancy, or in your first years of life. So to him…y/n was just another child. Tsu'tey carefully handed both children to jake. "Take them to a safe place…please" tsu'tey talks, while releasing the little ones. They didn't want to get away from him. Spider was whining and y/n was starting to cry. Tsu'tey gave him a little kiss on the crown of his head and said goodbye to the children. Watching as jake tried to soothe them. It broke his heart, how he wished he could stay with them. But how could that be possible? He could pick up spider, he had no one. But y/n? She had her father…he couldn't go and ask her…that would never happen.
That same week, the children continued to hang out in their hut. Playing and spending all day with him. He practically had two new little tails. He would feed them, which was a difficult task because of the oxygen masks. He also taught them what they needed to know to survive in Pandora. And he gave them lots of love…who would have thought that a man like tsu'tey could be so loving. He combed and cared for his children. He liked to think of them as his…his little babies. Everyone in the clan was surprised to see tsu'tey with two human children, treating them as if they were his own. They talked and said comments but he didn't care. Someone had to take care of these two orphans and he was doing it. While jake and norm were in their own worlds…neytiri noticed tsu'tey's new behavior toward the human children.
Unlike jake, neytiri cared about you. She always tried to take care of you, when you were in the family hut. After all, you were half-sister to her children. It was the middle of the day…and she was sitting in the hut, looking after and watching her young children play. And in that group was y/n…playing with lo'ak. She watched as the little girl ran up, screaming. "'Dad…daddy!!!'" says y/n. Running toward the entrance, neytiri turns around expecting to see her mate. But she was surprised to see tsu'tey standing in the doorframe. The man had a basket full of vegetables, and was kneeling down waiting for the little girl's hug. The girl hugs him with all her heart, as he lifts her into the air, settling her in his arms. Walking to where neytiri was. "Hello…neytiri. I brought something for the family" says tsu'tey, he seemed to be very happy. "Thank you…I am grateful" says neytiri, accepting the basket and watching as her friend sat down next to her. All the children went to greet them, he lovingly greeted them one by one.
Neytiri appreciated the treatment and love tsu'tey had for her children. That's how it should be…after all he was practically her brother. After greeting all the children, Y/n hugged tsu'tey again and settled on her lap. "my pretty flower…how are you? Have you eaten?" asks tsu'tey, adjusting the girl's hair. "Yes… neyney gave me a nice meal" says the little girl lifting up her dirty shirt to show her stomach. Both adults laugh, neytiri reaches over and touches the little girl's stomach tickling it. She liked that nickname the little y/n had given her, neyney….sounded so adorable. "That sounds perfect…look I brought you something?" says Tsutey, pulling something out of a little pouch on his waist. Neteyam had come over, sitting right next to you on tsu'tey's lap. "Is that clothes?" asks the little neteyam, squeezing his sister. "yes, it's for y/n…it's just like kiri's" says tsu'tey, untangling the clothes. Stretching it out to show it to everyone, neytiri was surprised. It was small, but it was very beautiful. With feathers, and very delicate stones.
" My,my,my!!!" y/n speak, raising her arms so she could take her clothes. "Kiri…why don't you help your sister change" neytiri says, while kiri took y/n's hand. Behind the two of them, there was neteyam. "We have to put a bracelet on her" shouts the boy, both adults laugh. Tsu'tey was surprised at how attached the children were to y/n, even neytiri. So the problem was…jake. "She calls you dad," neytiri says, not mincing words. As she looked at what was in the basket. "She just calls 'jake' to her father…" neytiri was about to keep talking, when tsu'tey interrupts her. "Neytiri… being a parent is something you earn. And I think I have done an excellent job with those children." Tsu'tey says, he was proud of his words, for he knew they were true. "I know… and I am very proud of you. I'm aware that my partner doesn't give her the attention that child needs… so you've earned that title," the woman speaks. They both stand in silence for a while.
"I think I would be a better father to her? And also for the boy?" speaks tsu'tey, neytiri now looks at him with concern. She didn't know what to tell him now, this was a difficult situation. "You mean…you want to adopt them?" asks neytiri, she wanted to be sure she had listened well. "Yes, I want them to be my children. I will take complete care of them and Jake won't have to worry about anything…they will be in good hands."
Neytiri knows deep down that this is for the best. Although it was hard to believe, tsu'tey had accepted the presence of those human children. Maybe he felt sorry for them, since they spent all day alone. If Y/N was not with neytiri, she was alone with spider doing what things. She knew tsu'tey would be an excellent father, and she would support him. "I'll talk to jake…but I'm not promising anything" says neytiri, seeing how on tsu'tey's face a big smile was drawn. "She will still come and she will be with her brothers…I just want her to be safe" tsu'tey tries to convince neytiri. The woman puts a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Calm down…I will do what I can" neytiri speaks. They both looked up, when they heard the children approaching. Y/N had the na'vi clothes that tsu'tey had made for him. She also had a few accessories that her siblings had put on her. Y/N runs to neytiri, wrapping her small arms around her neck. "Let me see…you look very pretty. Do you like it?" says neytiri, arranging several pieces of the outfit. "Yessssss!!!" shouts the excited little girl. "Mom…did you see that I put my bracelet on y/n…it looks better on her" says neteyam, arranging more of the piece on her sister's arm.
"They did a great job," tsu'tey says. Neytiri fixes the girl's hair, while her brothers play with her. "Hey…how do you say?" orders neytiri looking at you with a serious look. "Thank you" y/n gets shy, while thanking tsu'tey. The latter reaches over and caresses a cheek of the little one. He could already feel the excitement, hopefully jake would accept. He felt grateful to know that someone cared for her, neytiri was doing a great job in taking care of her. And if he kept the little girl, he would bring y/n every day to spend time with her. He could tell they had a nice relationship. After a while, the man said goodbye to everyone, neytiri told him that she was going to stay with y/n and not to worry. He had to go to the lab to look for spider. He had also prepared an outfit for his little boy.
When he got to the lab, he knocked on the door. Norm let spider out, the man took good care of him. But not well enough, children need to be given love and time. And these people weren't doing that. He waited patiently for his boy to come out. According to Norm, Spider was asleep and he had to get him up. After about 5 minutes, the little boy came out, sleepy. Tsu'tey carries him, and the little boy hugs him. "I brought you a surprise," says tsu'tey, lowering the boy to the ground. As he pulled out a bundle, in which his new outfit was wrapped. Spider was so happy, tsu'tey's eyes lit up at the sight of the little boy's face. So excited, for such a simple gesture. Spider took the gift and ran inside the lab to change. "Wait for me here!!!" shouts the boy tsu'tey laughs and sits down on the metal stairs to wait for the boy. He is convinced that it was a good idea to create their own na'vi clothing, this way they will be cleaner and feel more comfortable.
The day happened just as he had planned it. If everything went well…Jake would agree to let him stay and take care of y/n. If he was a smart man he would agree to let him stay and take care of them. If he was a smart man he would agree right away. Tsu'tey began to clear away the mess he had in his hut. There were a few toys that the children had left in the morning, he was so happy. After a while, he heard someone enter his hut, "Hello…" tsu'tey spoke, noticing that it was Jake who had arrived. He quickly interrupts him. "You think you can just go to neytiri and ask her for me to give y/n to you. That's not how it works" says jake, he was a bit annoyed. This put tsu'tey on alert, how dare he complain to him if he didn't even want to and didn't even pay attention to y/n. "Are you listening to yourself… I'm the one who takes care of those children. I'm the one who feeds them, takes care of them and watches over them. You don't even pay attention to y/n" tsu'tey raises his voice, he is so upset. He wanted to hit this man right now, but he was controlling himself. Just then, neytiri arrives at the hut. She was agitated and you could see her worried face.
"Norm lost the children!!!" says neytiri worriedly. The woman had taken y/n to the lab in the afternoon. She handed her over to Norm, since y/n couldn't sleep all night in the hut, the oxygen wouldn't last long. But couple of minutes later, lo'ak came running to his mother saying that when he went to play with his sister and didn't find her and that norm was looking for her. And that with her was spider. Neytiri quickly tried to explain everything to the men in front of her, she felt that she had interrupted something that was about to end very badly. Hearing that spider and y/n were lost, he quickly ran, pushing jake aside and going to the lab area. Neytiri didn't even look at Jake and took off after his friend. Jake followed some time later.
Tsu'tey arrived at the lab upset, norm was in his avatar body holding a flashlight. Tsu'tey grabbed norm's shoulders, he had to tell him where the children were. "No…they said they were going to play nearby, they said something about some flowers" norm spoke quickly, tsu'tey could be quite an intimidating man. As soon as norm mentioned flowers, tsu'tey knew where both children are. He relaxed a little, but not at all, the road to that place could be quite dangerous at night. Tsu'tey started walking, ignoring some complaints from jake and some questions from neytiri. They decided to follow the man without any protests. The path was quite close, it was a place where tsu'tey used to take the children to play. A nice meadow that had a lot of flowers, bright. It was a beautiful place, but it could be a bit dangerous for two five year olds.
Arriving at the meadow tsu'tey saw two small figures in the dark, he approached slowly accompanied by jake, neytiri and norm. "And what are you two doing here?" speaks tsu'tey with a calm and sweet voice. Causing both children to look up, running a little towards the man. Tsu'tey wrapped his arms around them, sighing with relief. "I thought something serious happened to you guys…you shouldn't be here at night" says tsu'tey, looking annoyed at the children. "We're sorry!!!" says both children, holding hands. Jake walks over to where the children are, carrying them. "Well…we have to go" says jake, neytiri stood next to tsu'tey…she knew he was upset. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I tried…but he's kind of stubborn" neytiri speaks. "He doesn't know how to take care of them…. y/n. He…" tsu'tey turns away from neytiri and starts walking home.
He could feel several tears running down his cheeks. He felt anger and insufficient… he only wanted the best for these children. He himself felt strange, to feel compassion and affection for human children. He arrived at his hut, and quickly lay down in his hammock. He had to get used to the idea that he could never have his own family, that he would never be able to take enough care of these children, because they did not belong to him and although he did not like the idea, they already had their own parents. He settled down, trying to relieve himself of his feelings. He almost got his sleep, but finally after a long time he was able to sleep. The night passed quickly, and as usual he got up early. Wiping his face, not noticing anything else around him.
Out of nowhere he felt someone moving something in his hut. Turning his eyes slowly, he saw a spider looking in the basket where the toys were. Then he saw y/n sitting down, she was playing with one of the wooden ikran. He couldn't believe it, what was going on? Why were the kids here so early in the morning? "Norm said he'll bring you an oxygen capsule later…so the kids can sleep in there" speaks jake…he was on the other side of the hut. Sitting on the floor. Tsu'tey is surprised, and pulls back. "What?" tsu'tey was surprised, he didn't understand what was going on. ""You're so right….I'm a bad father to Y/N"" speaks jake. Both men talk, and begin to set the record straight. Jake knew that he wasn't the best thing for Y/N, and that he neglected her too much.
He had talked to neytiri at night, she talked to him. That it was best for Y/N to be with tsu'tey. Jake had been thinking about it all night, it was the best thing to do. Besides, he wouldn't be far from her…besides, his daughter didn't call him father. To her, her father was the man in front of him the one who had taken care of her for the last two years. Like Y/N, Jake talked to Norm…he told him that Spider should go with Tsu'tey, that he was the best thing for these children. Jake said goodbye to both children, and walked away without looking back. Although he didn't want to admit it, it hurt him a little to admit that he was a bad father and that it was too late now.
Left alone with both children, tsu'tey sits still stunned by the situation. He could not believe it, eywa had heard his prayers. His heart wanted to burst out of his chest, he was so happy. The little girl approaches her father, and hands him the toy. She had a cute smile on her face. "You know you will stay with me…I-I will be your daddy" says tsu'tey, taking the hand of spider, who had come closer. Both children nodded their heads. "I promise I will take care of you…I promise" both children hug their new father tightly. Even though they always knew…that he was their father.
ps. Thank you for leaving your request, I know it took me a long time to reply. I have had some problems with my laptop, but I will be answering them this week little by little. But don't think I have forgotten you.
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babyleostuff · 8 months
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my little gamer | jeon wonwoo
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when wonwoo came home from work, happy they let him and the boys end their schedule a bit earlier, he definitely didn’t expect you to be passed out on the couch.
with groceries, and your favourite candy in the bags he was sure you’d get to spend a bit of well deserved quality time over making dinner, maybe end the night with a movie, or him reading you a book in bed. but it looked like you had other plans. 
wonwoo quietly grabbed the blanket that was draped over your couch, and gently tucked you in, making sure you were properly covered, kneeling before your sleeping figure. his fingertips found their way to your hair that fell over your face, and gently, as not to wake you, he swept them away, revealing your pouty mouth, and rosy cheeks. 
wonwoo knew you didn’t like it when he took pictures of you when you were sleeping, always insisting you looked horrible when asleep, but wonwoo would do everything to have his polaroid with him now so he could capture this moment. 
he grabbed the bags from the floor, and not thinking too much about what made you so tired that you needed to nap in the middle of the day, he started preparing dinner, so you could eat when you woke up. 
“so cute,” he thought to himself, as he peeked from around the corner to see if you were still sleeping. 
soon, the smell of food woke you up from your slumber, making your stomach growl. at first, you were very confused why you could smell food, when your fridge and cabinets were out of anything proper to eat, but that’s when you noticed a familiar pair of glasses laying on the table. 
“wonwoo?” you raised yourself to sitting, fixing the cardigan of his you were wearing. he wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of hours, and it was very unusual for the boys to end things so early in the afternoon. your mind started racing in worry that something bad had happened. 
“wonwoo?” you asked a bit louder, stumbling because of the blanket, which was wrapped around your body. weird, you couldn’t remember covering yourself with it. 
passing by the kitchen, you noticed a pot on the stove with something bubbling inside, and from the smell alone, you knew it was your favourite ramyeon. but wonwoo was nowhere to be seen. 
deciding to help him out with dinner, you turned down the heat a bit, so it wouldn’t spill, and busied yourself with cutting the vegetables that were already laying on the counter, convinced that your boyfriend just went to the bathroom. 
“what are these?” suddenly, wonwoo’s voice echoed through your rather quiet apartment, scaring you to the point where you almost cut yourself with the knife. offended, you turned to him. “i could’ve hurt myself,” but your voice faltered, as you saw what he was holding. 
in his left hand, he was clutching his old gaming headset, and in the other, some games you knew he didn’t play anymore. a warm rush of embarrassment rushed through your body, your cheeks turning into a pretty shade of red. wonwoo, on the other hand, seemed rather amused - both by the thighs he found in your room, and your reaction. 
you weren’t much of a gamer - you didn’t find it entertaining, and you weren’t really good at it either. you usually watched him play, cuddled to his side with a teacup in your hands. that was so much more fun than gaming. 
“care to explain, baby?” he smiled at you, setting the stuff on the counter. you knew wonwoo would never judge you for what you did, yet you couldn’t help but look down avoiding his gaze. “hey, it’s okay. look at me, baby,” he gently cupped your face, lifting your head, so your eyes could meet, as his thumbs stroked your cheeks in a soothing manner.
“i just…,” you took a deep inhale, trying to calm yourself before the embarrassment would eat you up. “i just wanted to be better at gaming,” you admitted, fiddling with the hem of wonwoo’s shirt. 
he looked at you with a puzzled expression, his brows furrowed, and mouth in a small pout. “but you don’t like gaming. i don’t think i’ve ever seen you game since we began dating.” 
you sighed in defeat - you had to tell him why you took his stuff, wonwoo would not back down now. “i don’t like it, but i wanted to be better… for you,” you shyly admitted. “i know how much you enjoy gaming, and i didn’t want to be that girlfriend who doesn’t give a shit about her boyfriend's hobbies.” 
“but why would you force yourself?” wonwoo asked, stunned by your confession. his thumbs halted their movement, his whole attention focused on you. “you know i would never expect you to do something you don’t enjoy.” 
“i know. i just thought you’d be happy if i learned how to play.”
wonwoo let out a sigh, sneaking his hand to the back of your head, cradling it closer to his chest, so he could place his head on top of yours. “i would be happy knowing you do something you truly enjoy, and not force yourself to do something you don't like just to please me,” he wrapped his other arm around your waist, bringing you even closer to his body. 
“i love it when you watch me game. i love your presence next to me, and i wouldn’t change it for the world.” he smiled softly at you, patting your head, as you fell into a comfortable silence. with the feeling of embarrassment long forgotten, you let yourself melt into his embrace, nuzzling your head further up his neck, as you inhaled the familiar smell of his cologne. 
“wait,” wonwoo suddenly pulled your head back, and looked at you with a slightly worried expression. “don’t tell me you were sleeping now, because you stayed up last night gaming.” 
“please, don’t be mad?” you tried giving him your best puppy eyes, knowing that one - he wouldn’t fall for them either way, and two - he’d end up scolding you for staying up so late. “you’re such a hypocrite, honey. how many times have you told me to go to bed, and scolded me for staying up so late, hm?” he cupped your cheek, his gaze full of concern. 
“i did it for you, won.”
“you’re truly unbelievable, honey. 
the bubbling of the ramyeon brought you back to reality, wonwoo’s grip loosening to quickly take care of the boiling soup.
“would you help me?” 
“what was that, baby?” 
you put your hand on his back. “i want you to teach me how to game, and not because i want to make you happy. i really want to try.” 
“of course i’ll help you,” he smiled, and pecked your forehead. “my little gamer.”
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prettyfastcars · 5 months
Text
Skin and bones | Lewis x Reader
Summary: Family vacation was over, and it was time for all of you to go back home. Your mom and Lewis’ dad would go around the world, travelling some more. Lewis would go back to his glamorous, fast life and you’d go back to your quiet life in Paris. So whatever had been going on between you and Lewis this whole time, it all ends. Right? 
Themes: stepbrother!lewis, smut, possessive!lewis, fluff
a/n: read part 1, part 2, and part 3 here ;)
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“What do you think you’re doing?” 
You came back from gathering wood for the bonfire expecting to find everyone setting up tents – since Lewis had the brilliant idea of going camping in the middle of nowhere in this dense forest – but you found no one. Except a devilishly handsome ‘stepbrother’ setting up one single tent. 
“Lewis,” You spoke again, dropping all the wood near where you were supposed to have the bonfire. “Where’s my mom? And your dad?” 
“They went back to the cabin.” He answered like it was nothing at all as he finished setting up the tent, shaking it to check if it was sturdy enough. It was.  
You frowned. “What? But we planned to camp out here, all of us. This was your idea.” 
“Relax babygirl,” Lewis stood up and walked over to pick up the wood you’d dropped. “They probably wanted some alone time before we leave tomorrow morning.” He winked at you before walking away again. 
You winced not wanting to think about it for more than a second, “Okay, gross.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. It was beginning to get cold, the sun had just set and the forest was getting dark really fast. “So it’s just you and I out here? They just left me here with you and decided to walk back to the cabin for no reason?” Something didn’t add up. 
Lewis was kneeling on the ground, setting up the wood to make a decent sized fire. Then he looked up, smirking at you, “They trust big brother to keep you safe, little sis.” 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. That whole bondage episode happened just two nights ago. Lewis had been less of an ass since. But you could tell some plotting was happening in that head of his. So this morning at breakfast he announced that you all should probably camp in the forest tonight since it would be your last night here at the cabin. The parents agreed of course. 
So the four of you hiked up here in the afternoon and began setting up. After a quick dinner, you realised you would all need a bonfire to keep warm through the night, so you volunteered to go find wood for it. When you got back just now, the parents were gone and Lewis was being a smartass again. 
“You convinced them to go back, didn’t you?” 
You figured that’s the only way they would’ve left you here with him. Lewis had a way of… persuading people easily. All he had to do was stare at you with those soft, warm brown eyes and give you that innocent smile and there’s nothing one wouldn’t do for him. You knew because you’d been a victim of those pretty eyes yourself. 
He finally lit the fire, and it caught perfectly, gradually growing. Lewis smiled at you again, a mischievous spark in those eyes of his. “I just told your mom that maybe this cold, humid weather would be bad for her occasional joint pains. And dad decided they should probably head back and be warm in the cabin.” He added, “They didn’t want to take the risk, you see?” 
“Right.” So the game you two had been playing was still on. You shook your head at him. “Okay, what do you want?” 
“To talk.” He replied quickly, standing up. 
Gods… he really was one of the most beautiful human beings huh? His braids were not tied into a ponytail today, they were loose and nearly reached his shoulders. And he looked so warm with all the layers he was wearing. Part of you wanted nothing more than to just snuggle up to him and let him wrap those big arms around you to keep you warm. 
“Talk about what, Lewis?” You forced yourself to look away from him as he approached you, the fire growing behind him. You looked down at your muddy shoes instead. “There’s nothing left to talk about. Tomorrow morning we’re all leaving. You’re going back to… I don’t know where. And I’m going back to Paris, and we won’t see each other all year–,” 
He stopped you by grabbing you by the chin and tilted your face up so you looked at him. “Really?” He questioned, staring deep into your eyes. He leaned closer, but not close enough. “That night a couple of days ago can’t be the last time I touched you. I want more.” He confessed, and almost kissed you again. 
But you pulled away, crossing your arms over your chest like that would act as a barrier between the two of you. “We can’t keep doing this.” 
“Why not?” He leaned closer again, pulling you into him by the waist. When you avoided his eyes, he grabbed you by the chin again, “Look at me.” He demanded. When you did, he said, “Are you sure you wanna be done with me?” 
No. 
You placed your hands flat on his chest. His warmth made you sigh in bliss. Then with a shaky voice you asked, “What’s the endgame here, Lewis? Whatever we do, it’s gonna hurt our parents.” 
He scoffed in that arrogant way of his which you loved despite everything. “We’re grown ups. We can do whatever we–,” 
You cut him off, “Yes we are grown ups and it’s still taboo and wrong to fuck your mom’s boyfriend’s son!” You whisper-yelled. 
He argued still, “It’s different for us! We didn’t grow up together or anything. Hell, I met you only a couple of years ago. Our parents aren’t married, it’s different.” 
You had nothing to argue back with so you shut up and pulled away from his warm embrace. “Lewis… I don’t know what to say to you. Maybe we should just go back to our lives and–,” 
He cut you off again, this time pushing you against the nearby tree. His strong arms grabbed you by the hips, his chest pressing against yours. You felt hot. And it wasn’t because of the layers that you were wearing. 
He got really close to your face, his soft lips just inches away from yours and said in a terribly bitter tone which sent shivers down your back, “Go back to our lives, huh? So you mean to tell me that these past few weeks mean nothing to you?” He questioned in an accusatory tone. “You mean you’re gonna go back and forget about all this? You’re gonna go back and let other people fuck you and pretend you’re not gonna be thinking about me each time they fail to make you come like I do?” 
His words shouldn’t affect you but just imagining having sex with anyone else seemed… wrong. You stared into his pretty eyes and your emotions were all over the place. You were sad, angry, you hated him, you craved him, you wanted him gone, you didn’t want to let him go. 
“So what?” You asked, sarcastically. “What do you think is gonna happen here? We’re gonna do a risky, long distance thing? We’re gonna keep meeting behind our parents’ backs? We’ll lie to everyone? I’ll fly out to come see you race whenever I can and you’re gonna fly home to me during your breaks? And we’ll be happy together until we grow sick of sneaking around and come clean and tell everyone to just deal with it!?” 
Lewis opened his mouth to argue, but then he closed it again. You did the same thing. Twice. You two just stared at each other because whatever you just spit out in a fit… it didn’t sound so bad, did it? Well, except for lying to the parents part. 
He didn’t know what to say so he just said, “Get inside.” He pointed at the only tent that was set up. 
You didn’t argue even though you saw what was coming. It physically hurt to walk away from him and to even think about all the miles that would be between you two come tomorrow. 
You began overthinking everything as you took your muddy shoes off and got in the tent. It was more spacious than you thought inside. You saw the double sleeping bag and a familiar shiver danced down your spine. 
You peeled off some layers and immediately got into the sleeping bag. And your mind began racing again as you forced your eyes shut. Say you and Lewis keep this madness up, what would happen when your parents would find out? Family dinners would get real awkward, that’s for sure. 
But then, given who Lewis was, what would happen when the world finds out about you? Your parents’ relationship was well hidden from the media. But Lewis always had eyes on him. Now that you thought about it, maybe that’s why he wanted to come here in the middle of nowhere and not vacation in a tourist-y place. There were no cameras here. 
You opened your eyes and found that you were snuggling next to something warm. You saw tattooed arms wrapped around you and you tried to hide the smile that formed on your face. 
“How long was I asleep for?” You asked, placing a hand on his chest. You felt his strong heartbeats beneath your palm and smiled again, sadly this time. Fuck, you were gonna miss him. 
“Just an hour or two. I guess you worried yourself to sleep.” He teased. “It’s okay though, it’s only around midnight right now so we have time to talk about everything.” 
You sighed, pulling away to get a better look at him. He turned on his side, arms pulling you closer. You shoved your face into the crook of his warm neck and groaned loudly, “I hate you.” 
He chuckled softly. “Oh do you?” 
His hands slipped under your thin sweater and t-shirt, stroking your skin. He drew lazy circles at your lower back and side. You couldn’t think about anything. His warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin was the only thing that made sense. It was beginning to drizzle outside, you could hear the random droplets hit the tent.
Then you blurted out, “I don’t want to fight with you. But I don’t see how we can be together.” 
Lewis was quiet for a while. You let your head rest against his shoulder, your fingers tracing the visible tattoos all over his hands. Then Lewis asked, “Do you truly want me out of your life?” 
“No.” You answered with a sleepy voice. 
“Then stop fighting this.” He stated, his hands wandering a little more, now sliding up to cup you through your thin bra. “Stop fighting me.” 
You sighed, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. If this was the last time, you wanted to cherish each moment. “I don’t want to. But–,” 
He cut you off with a kiss. Soft, sweet, his lips brushing against yours slowly. Like he was tasting you for the first time. “That little head of yours thinks too much,” He murmured, moving so he now hovered above you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as you looked up at him. “Let me worry about everything. Just, stop fighting this.” He said before leaning down for another heated kiss. 
You moaned and whimpered into the kiss. You needed him badly. “Okay,” You whispered against his soft mouth. 
His hand touched you wherever he could, lingering at your breasts and taking his sweet time, caressing and kissing your skin. His other hand slipped past your leggings and cupped you between your legs firmly. You moaned and gasped into the kiss as his fingers teased your clit. 
“Lewis, please,” You begged, desperately grinding against his hand. “I need you, please.” You whispered against his mouth. 
Lewis chuckled. “Still wanna go back and pretend we never happened?” He teased. “Hmm? Think you’ll ever be able to look in the mirror and not think about how I kiss you?” He kissed down your neck, “How good my fingers feel inside you?” He slid two fingers inside you then, stroking you perfectly, just how you liked it and he had you whining and squirming under him in no time. “Answer me, little sis?” 
“Fuck,” You whimpered, “You know I could never forget you.” 
He smirked through the kiss, happy with what you said. Then he quickly lowered your leggings while you helped him by lowering his sweatpants, and he easily slid inside you without breaking the kiss. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist as best you could. Your clothes and the sleeping bag got in the way but the two of you were too needy to care or stop. 
Lewis moved in and out of you, slowly at first, then sped up once he found the right pace and angle. Your back arched off the surface each time filled you up completely, mercilessly thrusting into you hard and fast. 
At some point he grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head. He finally pulled away from the messy kiss and stared into your eyes, lips parted and breathing heavily as he fucked you. He rolled his hips against you so well that you began tearing up. 
You were gasping for breath, struggling to keep up and not come too quickly because you didn’t want this to stop. You never wanted him to stop. 
“You can’t get rid of me, babygirl,” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. “You can’t forget me,” He fucked you harder, as if proving his point. “You’ll always feel me,” He kissed your open mouth, shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed in and out of you, “All over your skin, and in your fucking bones,” He growled, and your legs trembled around his waist, but he still thrust deeper into you, fucking you like there was no tomorrow.
You cried out in pleasure, your back arching as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Lewis growled and bit down on your shoulder while he fucked you relentlessly. You were sure that his bite left a mark but you didn’t care. 
“Lewis,” You gasped, “I need to come, please… please,” You begged. 
“Not yet, babygirl,” He whispered, kissing your cheek softly as if it made up for the way he pounded into you like you were a doll. “Don’t you dare fucking come yet.” His hand found its way to your front and he pressed his palm against your lower abdomen. “You feel me in here?” He asked, feeling his cock thrust deep inside you. “You think you’ll forget this anytime soon? Hmm?” His hand travelled all the way to your neck and he gently squeezed the side of your throat. He squeezed hard enough to make you lose your mind while he kept pounding into you incessantly. 
“No…” You whispered against his lips. With a few more strokes, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to come. “Lewis, please I can’t–” 
You came with a loud cry, unable to hold back. 
Lewis came right after you, buried deep within you – growling under his breath. He remained on top of you, lowering some of his body weight onto you. You welcomed it, it felt nice. He was warm and you were a whimpering mess. 
“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay,” He whispered, kissing your face as he slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you in the sleeping bag. You were shaking just a little as he tucked your head under his chin and ran his soothing hand down your back. You placed your head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeats again. 
After a while of cuddling as you both caught your breaths, you said, “We have to leave in a few hours. We should get back to the cabin soon.” 
He wrapped his arms around you, as if he’d never let go. He kissed the top of your head and said, “Stop thinking for a moment. Just be here with me, baby. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.” He spoke so confidently, like he always did. “I’ve got you.” 
You smiled and kissed the compass tattoo on his chest before placing your head on it. You didn’t want to worry anymore. Whatever happened, you two would deal with it. 
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tumbleweed-run · 5 months
Text
Academia
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Female!Tav, Professor Kink
Your breath caught as you froze in the doorway.
It was unreasonable how beautiful Gale was. Always, but especially just now as he sat, distracted, behind a large ornate desk. The afternoon sun filtered through the tall stained glass windows, casting a rainbow of colors across his face as he focused on writing something. 
Gale had accepted a teaching position with Blackstaff, upgrading his position with the academy from consultant to professor. Term hadn’t begun yet, instead he was in the building preparing his new office and making lesson plans. You’d hoped to lure him away for a late lunch, as this would be your last chance to do so, but the sight before you had propelled your brain in another direction entirely.
His robes were nowhere to be seen, likely hung properly on the back of the door as the room was quite warm. Instead, Gale was down to his shirt and trousers. His sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, which was possibly the most erotic thing you’d ever seen. Compounded by the fact that his hair was half up, keeping it from his face as he wrote. 
The pooling of heat low in your belly had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. 
Gale, of course, chose that exact moment to look up from his writing, not as oblivious to the world as you’d thought. He was laying down his quill, a smile breaking out on his lovely face when he too froze. His eyes darkened with whatever it was he saw on your face. 
He recovered his composure quickly and carefully finished putting the quill in its place. You couldn’t help but follow Gale’s movements as he closed the ink pot and put that away as well. He seemed very much aware of your gaze as his next step was to lean back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. 
“Close the door,” he ordered by way of greeting.
You were very proud of yourself for swallowing down the whimper this new position had nearly dragged from your throat. But while you were busy proverbially patting yourself on the back for your vocal restraint, your body had obeyed the order he’d issued.
“Come here,” Gale directed. The hand he stretched out for you betrayed any bite to his words. 
Happily, you took it, allowing him to pull you around the side of the desk until were by his side. Only then did Gale turn his body, his knees now bracketed your legs. He looked up at you, hand still holding yours, and searched your face as he asked. 
“What can I do for you, darling?”
The memory of why you’d actually come here flittered out of your mind. Instead, a thousand ideas, each less appropriate than the one before, flooded your brain. 
“I want to suck your cock, please, professor,” was what spilled from your lips finally.
Gale inhaled sharply at your words, nostrils flaring. 
Your cheeks flamed as you suddenly remembered every time you’d gotten a little crush on one of your own professors growing up. You’d had a similar thought months ago when Gale had accepted his new position, but they were just silly memories then. Now you realized exactly how dangerous this new profession of Gale’s was. 
Without warning, Gale yanked on your arm, toppling you forward so you were forced to catch yourself on the arms of his chair. Your faces were now inches apart, and you found yourself greedily inhaling each of his exhales. His eyes searched yours, flicking back and forth quickly until they stilled. His whole face relaxed for a moment before morphing into something a bit harder than you were used to. 
Not harder. Sterner.
“Then I suggest you make it worth the interruption. I am quite busy,” he directed brusquely.  
“Ye-yes, sir,” you stammered, realizing he was playing along with you. 
You barely felt any pain as your knees collided with the stone floor. If the bulge in his pants was any indication, Gale was just as affected by the situation as you were. Quickly, you opened the laces of his trousers. A bit too eagerly, perhaps, because his hand threaded through your hair, and he gave a sharp tug. 
“Gently,” he warned, “I do need to look presentable later.”
Slowing down your hands was near torture, but eventually, you managed to undo his pants and free Gale’s cock. You gave no warning before swallowing him down and Gale moaned. His whole body tensed for a moment, hand tugging in your hair once again before he relaxed - legs stretching out on either side of you. 
You eagerly worked him with your mouth, one hand grasping the base of his cock to work what you couldn’t comfortably fit. Maybe you should have been ashamed of the drool that escaped your lips, cascading down your own fist but you couldn’t bring yourself to be. Instead, you sucked and licked at Gale’s cock until your jaw began to ache. 
Gale groaned above you, his breaths growing louder and more labored the longer you worked him. His hand in your hair flexed, occasionally tugging but mostly just there as if to anchor him. You could feel the muscles in his thighs flex around you as well. 
You snuck a glance up at him from under your lashes and found him watching you. Gale snuck a hand under your chin and tilted your face just slightly upwards to make maintaining eye contact easier. You were barely able to keep his cock in your mouth as he did, forced to still your ministrations. 
Gale kept your eyes locked as he experimentally rolled his hips, the head of his cock butting against your hard palate. He did this a few times. You desperately wished he would release your chin so you could reposition your mouth, allowing him access to fuck your throat. But instead, he gently pulled you away from him. You whimpered when you were finally forced to let his cock fall from your lips. 
“Up,” he ordered, voice rough. 
You stood, absentmindedly wiping your hand on your own pants. 
Gale stood once you were fully up, his body came flush against yours. It made it all the more easy for him to manuever you backwards against the desk. He leaned down towards you, and for a second you thought he was about to kiss you. Right up until his lips ghosted across your cheek to your ear. 
“Pull down your pants and turn around,” he rumbled quietly into your ear. 
You frowned at the kiss you weren’t granted but even still you were quickly undoing your pants. You didn’t give a single shit if you looked presentable later, your clothes were suddenly an unacceptable barrier between the two of you, and you worked quickly. Gale didn’t back away as you turned, instead you were forced to jostle against him. The length of his cock dragged against your clothes the entire time. 
He didn’t wait for you to pull down your trousers. Instead, he grabbed hold of them and pulled them down to your thighs. You barely had a moment to register this before Gale was pressing you down over the desk, hand firm between your shoulder blades. He shifted behind you and you felt his cock slot into place along the cleft of your ass. 
The pressure on your back turned to a gently caressing motion. You tried to turn your head to look at him but your own hair impeded your vision. 
“Be a good girl and keep quiet,” Gale directed, “we don’t want anyone to know you’re letting your professor fuck you over his desk.”
Your thighs involuntarily clamped together at his words. Gale felt it if the light rumble of laughter from above was any indication. 
You could feel him take hold of his cock a moment before he angled it between your thighs. He didn’t bother to try to press inside of you. Instead, he drug his cock slowly between your folds allowing to head to brush against your clit, forcing a whimper out of you each time it did. You bit back the noise the best you could and only once he rubbed against you and you managed nothing more than a sharp intake of breath did Gale finally realign himself to press into you. 
He moved slowly as he pressed into you. No matter how wet you were, without any preparation, his cock felt impossibly blunt and impossibly thick. You could feel a dull ache as he continued working into you. You were panting through your nose by the time Gale bottomed out, hips flush against your ass. Not with pain, but instead with the control you were issuing upon your body. Demanding your hips not just snap back against him so he would finally get to fucking you. 
Gale seemed to read your mind, and his hands moved to hold your hips in place, pinned against the edge fo the desk. He held that position for what seemed like forever. You bit back several demands to move that you wanted to issue, instead focusing on the way the parchment you were plastered against fluttered with each of your breaths. 
Finally, he began to move. Slowly, no doubt still wary of hurting you. But each movement was quicker than the one before until the room was filled with the sound of Gale’s skin colliding with yours. Each thrust forcing out a tiny grunt from you, barely more than a puff of breath. 
You gripped the edge of the desk near your hips for leverage as you pressed back against Gale. Pressing up on your tiptoes the angle changed, and the first thrust forced a whimper from your lips. Audibly you clamped your teeth together, trying to swallow back the noises you desperately wanted to make. Gale either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was fucking into you quickly now, his own grunts sounding punched from his chest. He was close. 
Ignoring the aching of your calves, you kept onto your toes. You could feel your own orgasm building. Gale shifted behind you until he was leaning over your back, one of his hands leaving your hip to snake beneath you. Taking advantage of the new space you’d created beneath you, he worked his fingers between your legs. At the first brush of his fingertip against your clit you forgot yourself and moaned loudly. 
Gale froze instantly.
You cringed, swearing you could hear the forbidden sounds still echoing off the stone walls. 
You held still as well. Hoping he’d forgive you and take your renewed silence as an apology. 
“Please, professor” you whispered after it appeared Gale was never going to move again. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet. Please,” you begged. 
“Not another sound,” Gale warned.
As if to make a point, it was his fingers that moved first. Rubbing against your clit lightly, daring you to so much as whimper at the sensation. You managed to bite back each down, eyes slamming shut with the effort. 
“Good girl,” Gale praised in a hushed tone, as he kept up with his fingers against your clit, cock still buried motionlessly inside of you. The walls of your cunt fluttered at his praise.
Your orgasm built quickly at his touch but no amount of wiggling around his cock brought the relief you were looking for. By this point you were sweating, the papers you were laying on undoubtedly ruined. But gods, you wanted them to be. Wanted Gale to have to look at the sweat smudged ink and relive this moment over and over in this room.
Gale, perhaps out of pity or selfishness, finally began thrusting into you again. It only took three sharp thrusts for you to come with a silent scream. Your mouth hung open, but no sound or air was able to force its way out. Above you, Gale came with a whispered curse, both hands holding tightly to your hips once more as he buried himself inside of you. 
After a moment, he collapsed against your back, both of you panting in rhythm. Your ribs expanding while his contracted. Over and over until your breaths slowed. 
Gale’s grip on your hips grew gentle as he held you still and pulled his half-softened cock from you. You snorted a laugh, both your hair and the papers rustling with your breath as you felt the mess of your combined orgasms drip down your thigh. You heard more than saw Gale collapse back into his chair, and after a moment, he pulled you back into his lap. Unaware or uncaring of the mess. 
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