#sadly no silverware for him

[deck-shuffler]

(My favorite character is Judai, always has been Judai. My brother's favorite is Saiou/Sartorius. I'm doing this for him.)

What about Saiou, what spot does he hold in your AU?

Oh, you're in luck cause he's an important character in here. Do take note that I am working with other people for this AU, so the ideas for Saio are a group effort.

Saio is a diplomat under Prince Ojin, making him a VIP during the diplomatic negotiations with Ryo. Thing is, he is a fairy here (same with Mizuchi) and metal is his weakness, thus making his efforts a little bit more difficult in a machine empire. Don't worry though, he is escorted by Knight Edo and the J-Squad minus a few members namely:

• Hayato (someone has to be in the office during Misawa's absence)

•Manjoume (he got hospitalized and also had a sudden promotion as CEO of his family's company)

•Fubuki (he's Manjoume's knight and must stay with his lord)

•Sho (who at that time returned to his brother's side)

[Johan, O'Brien, and Jim haven't joined the squad yet at this point.]

Unfortunately for Saio, Amon also joins them which he will be proven to be a problem later. But hey, after all that he gets to be in an acquaintance party hosted by the prince for all of his troubles!

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thanks so much guys for loving and supporting twenty eight parts of this series🥺💜 hugs and kisses to each and every one of you! <<prev >>next

alt version of this chapter

The clinks rung in the air as you crouched. The wet glass from the cup that you threw against the wall had scraped across the floor as the hand broom that you held, swept it into the dustpan.

Loud rumbles of the shards of glass erupted when you dumped it into the garbage can.

“Do you need help?”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t speak. You opted to shake your head.

The area was cleaned up after you dried and disinfected the area.

With a turn, you hold onto the walls as you walked on wobbly legs. A fling of your wrist made the bedroom door close, not slam, rather loudly.

Focusing on the floor, you sat on your floor in front of your bed, to try to think.

The tears started as you sobbed, trying your best to hold them in.

You wrote a letter. You apologized for the inconvenience and the haste to get home. Most importantly, you apologize for the incomplete service.

You signed your name and get dressed.

You adjust your shirt as your stomach begged for food. That’s when you smelled it. Cooking food traveling to your nose.

You slowly move into the kitchen timidly, you didn’t know what you were afraid to see. As soon as you entered, a plate is being sat down at a spot on the table.

A touch on Edward’s arm with a thanks that whispered from your mouth, is what he received for the deed.

”I can’t eat…I can’t do it.” you say ignoring the lump in your throat. You shift in the chair as you gripped your silverware.

He blinked slowly, “Just try.”

You only chew a mouthful before you became blurry eyed.

It was so good. Like, really good. The food almost got stuck in your throat from how fast you tried to eat.

Staring at the empty plate, you sigh sadly to yourself.

“I have to get home.” You say pitifully.

“Is everything alright?”

“That’s what I have to figure out.” You say as you set the plate in the sink and you’re turned around.

Two hands gently take a hold of your shoulders as you slowly move forward.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.” You admit.

“We have time to spare.”

“You’re persistent…I noticed that is your key trait.”

You waited for his reaction but a half smile came.

“Are you just now noticing?”

“I’m tired of not being in the know…”

“That’s your key trait.” He points out.

You blink blankly at him before you shrugged in response. You sit down again.

“I noticed…You cry a lot.”

You twist your face as you shift again in your chair, “I do not.”

“It’s what I always see.”

“I’m not a crybaby.”

“I’m not calling you one…” he says with a slight but breathy chuckle, “It’s just that I feel that your feelings are hurt. Your feelings are always hurt.”

A dry chuckle escaped your lips as the small and dainty smile graced your lips, "There's nothing wrong with feeling or being sad."

“I suppose….Angels are sad and soulful creatures.”

Your heart stuttered.

You sigh softly before staring off into space.

“I miss my kid.”

He nods.

The weight of the silence dropped like an anchor on your chest. His topaz eyes made you open your mouth like you were in a confessional. Anything that could be said could be left between you and him.

“Can you tell when someone wants to….” You shake your head at your abrupt start of a question. “What is it?” He encouraged.

“You read minds. Of course you know when someone is trying to get at you or….Flirt with you.”

He nods.

“But, for someone who can’t? Aren’t the signs easy to pick up on?”

“Why do you ask?” he asked with a hard focused look.

“Rachel….” You say and he immediately gets the idea.

“Too bad we can’t continue. We have to get going if you want to be on time.” He says softly after a quick glance of his watch on his wrist.

You move into the other room pull your phone off of the charger and stick the note into your pocket.

In the car, the engine purred as the streets passed you by.

“Alice wanted to extend an invitation. To see a show.”

“Why?" you say as the tiny drops of rain started to fall on the windshield of the vintage car that could make one's jaw drop.

"You've been working so hard. Take a moment to appreciate other art mediums."

"Hm.." you say thoughtfully.

You push the door closed but the window rolls down before you turn to walk away.

He leans, "We can talk when you’re done.”

You nod once.

Before you start what you needed to do, the folded note was in your shaky hands.

A hand on your shoulder startled you.

“Everything is coming together so great. I knew I picked the right person for this.” the designer says. You give them a half smile at their soft spoken compliment.

They then turn and starts talking to someone else.

You couldn’t give them the note, you threw it away.

The clay was in your hands as you move it in your fingers. The space was calm and mellow but the chaotic amounts of clay kept you busy.

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Of course.” Edward shrugged.

The art studio smelled like leftover paint. Left over paint was one of your favourite smells. You expressed it.

"I find the appeal.” Edward says. It was quiet for a moment before you speak again.

“I had a dream.”

“What was it about?”

“Sudoku…”

“Hm..” he hummed.

“Have you played?”

“Of course…” he says, he then looks to you, “Want to play after this?”

“How do you know if I know how to play it?”

“Do you?”

You stifle a chuckle, “I think my dream taught me.”

A melodic chuckle rang out in your ears and you look over with a grin.

”How did you learn how to cook edible food?”

“Edible food.” he repeats with a chuckle.

“You haven’t eaten what I eat in like…Ages…I figured you would be rusty.”

“I’ll confess…” he says, you give him attention, “I spent some time…Practicing.”

“…Really…” you say in slight disbelief.

“I always thought of your reaction if you were to try something that I cooked. I clung onto that hope.”

"You're dangerous." you whisper.

"Putting two and two together?"

You blink at the clay in your hands.

“Bella is my friend. You have a past with her.” You say.

“Hardly.” he says boredly.

With narrowed eyes, “Why are you downplaying it? You even admitted that you were in a relationship with her.”

“I always told her to stay away. But, she kept inserting herself into my world. I knew it wouldn’t end great if I continued to be around her addictive smell of blood. I just couldn’t be around someone like that.”

“You weren’t thinking about that until I came.”

“You came and my thirst was gone. I didn’t have to hold my breath and I could breathe freely. I've never been around a human who doesn't make me thirsty. Then…I saw inside of your mind while you were watching Animal Planet on her sofa…You were just startling.”

“I overheard you, the day I came over her house and you told her I’m dangerous like them.”

“No. I told her they’re dangerous. Not you.”

“Meaning the shifters. The ones who are made to kill your kind. One of them being Paul.” you say.

“Have you seen Paul’s wolf?” “Yes.” You answer.

“You weren't scared?”

“No. I was just a bit shocked….Yeah, shocked.” You decide with a nod.

”Are you scared of me?”

“No….I’m scared of things that are set out to kill me.”

“That’s fair.” He murmured.

“I’m scared of the Volturi.”

“They won’t kill you.”

“Did we not just witness a group of people walk into their deaths?” you say to his certainty tone.

“After what Aro saw, I know for a fact that he’s not going to kill you. To him, those humans are worthless. To you, you’re a prize. He didn’t even want to kill me when I asked, because of my own gift. Besides….” he trailed off before continuing, “If it were to ever be the case, I would sacrifice my own self before I would ever let that happen.”

As he rode in the backseat with you to meet Alice at the fashion show, he asks, “We didn’t dive into our conversation from yesterday morning…About knowing if someone is flirting with you without reading their mind.”

“It’s just…I think someone is hitting on Paul and he’s not getting the hint.”

“Rachel.”

“Yeah..”

“I can’t give you answers, unfortunately. I’m not around them to read either minds.”

You sigh sadly a bit.

Alice sat next to you, front row as she commented on each piece. She made it fun as she made you quietly chuckle at what the designer could’ve done better. Her jokes were witty and opened your creative eye.

That night, you talk to Paul on the phone. He told you he came back from Jacob’s.

“Was Rachel there?”

“No.”

“Where was she?”

“I don’t know. I don’t keep up with her.”

“Night and day..” you whispered.

“It doesn’t matter what I say or do, I guess.” he replied dryly.

The rest of the conversation barely mattered.

Blinking back tears, you clatter the phone down after not receiving any progress. You failed more than once.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself as you slowly paced around the kitchen before settling to open the liquor cabinet, only to find it empty.

You slowly clink it back, a wave of shame simmered through your body.

The water ran as you scrubbed the fork. Your mind was so occupied that the dishwasher opening didn’t catch your attention.

“Leave it.” you replied as you see a hand pick up a cup.

“You’ve been washing the same dish for over two minutes.” Edward spoke out.

“Didn’t know you were counting every minute.” you were upset with your interruption of your sulking.

“Just put them in the dishwasher. It’s empty.”

You shut the water off.

“Do you want me to do it?”

“I can do it.” you say as you had slight frustration in your voice.

“Have you eaten?”

You soft sigh came out as you loaded a plate.

“No.” you say quietly.

A hand touched your back, “That’s why you’re grumpy.”

“Well, I want a drink.” you blurt out.

You hear the fridge open and you turn your head. He’s already pouring juice in a cup.

“Not that.”

“It should be this.”

“That won’t make me forget about my day.” you groan with your eyes closed.

“Just talk about it, instead. You should actually stop with the alcohol.”

You narrow your eyes.

“You hid the bottles….Didn’t you?”

“Drink.” he hands you a cup.

He finished the job of loading as you lean against the counter space, slowly sipping what was in the cup.

He fed you a delicious, warm meal.

He persuaded you to watch a movie to get your mind off of things.

You barely paid attention to what was on screen. You yawned and as you dozed off, your head rested on his shoulder.

Footsteps knew their way to the beach as your hands were stuffed in your jacket pockets, with the hoodie on your head.

A quiet huff came softly out of your nose as you watched the scene. The wind wasn’t harsh. The sun was out but didn’t beam heat to cause any sweat.

Laughs were very faint, almost absent from your ears as you saw Rachel lying on her side with Paul lounging on the beach. You didn’t want to see any more. With a turn, your legs take you to the familiar route back home.

Blinking awake, you were in bed. You rub your eyes as your other hand reached under your pillow and press the contact you needed the most.

It was early morning.

“Little one is sleep. They stayed up late last night. Oh, they’ll be so happy to see you.” Paul’s father says quietly with a smile that you could hear in his voice.

You try to smile but a small noise escaped your lips.

His voice softened.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

“They’re the only one who misses me. Can’t say the same for Paul.”

“Y/N, he misses you. Stop it.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“All he does is go patrol, go to sleep. Everytime he sees the baby, he declares how much he misses you.” He chuckled.

“He doesn’t act it…”

“Don’t worry. He’s itching to see you.”

The picture that your eyes took in your dream, made you believe he had it all wrong.

You attended rehearsal and saw the looks of everyone’s faces when they saw the completed set design. They were truly blown away.

Your mind wasn’t on the work that you had completed. People gushed while your mind was somewhere else. Your thank you’s came on autopilot.

You sat and zoned out as the designer showed the models where they would entering, where to stop and pose, and where to exit.

The actual show was nice. You were glad to have taken video and pictures of your own to look back on.

To be quite honest, it was a blur as your mind was on getting home and setting things straight.

Scrambling to pack, you just couldn’t wait to get home. You even went to the airport early.

Paul’s father brightly beamed at you when he opened the door.

“You didn’t even tell anybody you were coming in.”

You grin softly as you stepped in.

He hugged you tightly, “You alright kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You nod with a grin.

He fetches the baby from the bassinet, “Look! Mommy’s here!” he cooed to the child he now had in his arms.

You hold out and you melt at the sight of them.

You kiss their fat cheeks and almost drool over their smell.

Your child’s hand grip onto your lips as you stare at them. You couldn't stop the tears as you coo out a greeting to them.

They squirmed and gurgled as they looked to you. Even trying to mimic your smile. They were indeed happy to see you.

“This one was about to be put down for a nap…You should join them.” Paul’s father says as he holds a fresh bottle.

“I am jet lagged.” you admit.

He jerked his head in the direction of Paul’s old bedroom, “Go lay down. Paul comes here sometimes when he comes back from patrol.”

Burying your body in his covers, it smelled strongly of your husband and baby’s father. If your soul could sing, it would. It only made you miss him more. You didn’t want things to be sour but things were heading in that direction. Quiet weeps protruded from you.

You didn’t realize you were asleep until you gained consciousness from the door squeaking open.

His face was hovered over yours, a soft smile on his lips as he shook you lightly. The smile that melted your heart into a puddle.

“Y/N, baby.”

You blink the sleep away as you stretch a bit.

“Hey.” you say groggily. Paul shows his greeting with a fat smooch.

“Why didn’t you come home?” He whispered to your lips.

You sit up, clothes wrinkled and rub your eyes.

“Your dad said you’ve been spending time here.” you say quietly. You then yawn.

“Yeah…I have.” he says and lays next to you. You look at him and he then couldn’t help but pull you closer to him and rub his cheek on your cheek.

“I missed you so much.” he whispered affectionately.

“Not as badly as I missed you.” you say trying to ignore the goosebumps that followed from his touches.

“Please. You couldn’t wait to run up out of here.” he teases and you nudge him a bit but caressed his skin.

“I have a lot to show you and tell you.” you whispered.

“….Alright…” he says barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go to Old Quil’s.” you suggest.

“No. Let’s just stay here…”

“Alright.”

You both lay there.

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened while I was gone?”

“Nothing..”

“What’s nothing?”

He sighed under his breath a bit, “It felt like the days kept repeating itself. It was so fucking depressing.”

“Oh..Well I mean, you had Rachel’s party….Right?”

“…Yeah…”

You display your cool smile, “You sound bored. Was it that uninteresting?”

“It was alright….” he says and sits up with a deep sigh. You adjust to sit up on your side.

“What happened, Paul?” you speak out into the silence.

He took too long to answer but you blink as he took his time.

“She….”

“What. Speak up. I can’t hear you.” you speak firmly. Your heart raced.

He licked his lips a bit before looking down, “Calm down. You just got back. I don’t want any problems.”

You move his shoulder a bit with your hand, “Just tell me.”

He lies back down and pulls you with him but you resist. Paul Lahote, your beloved husband, was nervous, you knew because he wasn’t making eye contact. You stare at him. He stared back.

You chuckled bitterly and softly. A small shake of your head.

“So..How was it? Was it worth it?” you grit in a whisper in his ear.

He turned his head away in annoyance.

You roll over and get out of bed.

He calls your name in defeat.

“So…What do you want to do? You want to just separate?” you ask softly.

“No, Y/N.” he says with a breathy laugh as he shakes his head a bit.

“What’s funny?” you clasp your hands together. You were on the brink of crashing out. It was right at the surface.

“Why do you want to separate so bad? Seriously, Y/N. Why do you want to separate?”

“I don’t like liars.”

“Yeah and when our child gets old enough to understand, let them know that it was you who wanted to break this family apart.”

You thrust a finger in his face, “No it was you. It was you! I gave you everything and you repay me by letting some bitch get in the middle of us. How dare you put this on me?”

His calm demeanor was breaking your heart. It was as if he didn’t care.

“You’re acting like I fucked her.” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Did you? Did you rock her world?” you countered back quickly.

He sighed as he looked dead at you.

“You finished?”

“I should be.” you mumbled. He pulled you back down next to him on the bed.

“I didn’t do anything with her..I don’t want to do anything with her.”

“I….I have options. I won’t be afraid to consider them.” you threaten.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” his gaze was heated.

“You’re smart…”

He huffed out in frustration.

“Paul…There’s something that you’re not telling me.” you whispered.

“Like what…” he says in an irritated tone. You twist your face at him.

”Just move.” You mutter as you push against him lightly, to turn away but he wouldn’t let you.

“No.” He says softly. The longer he stared, the more antsy you became.

“You just love hurting me.” You choke out and the tears wouldn’t stop running.

“Not true and you know it.” He says deeply.

Your fingers were too fast for his nature. His heartbreak was on his face.

“Y/N.” he says thickly.

“Move.” you shrug him off. This was the rudest you’ve ever been to him.

“The fuck are you doing?” He asked in disbelief.

He hovered over you, looking down at you in concern. You look up at him.

“Just tell me…Just tell me if you fucked her.” you choke out thickly. He looked genuinely taken aback.

“I’m not fucking Rachel.” He calmly answered.

“I don’t believe you.” you whisper.

He grunted in frustration, “Y/N, stop it. You know I’m telling the truth.”

“I don’t believe you because you would’ve said I didn’t fuck her. Not, I’m not fucking her.” you press your hands to shove him but he didn’t budge a muscle. You cursed at his rock hard body.

“You know what I think?….I think you’re using any excuse to not make this relationship work. We’re soulmates Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

“I’ll just go over there and get the story straight then.”

“You’re not going over there. Me and you need to talk about this.” he hissed.

“Paul. Get off of me.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t care.

You started to cry. And cry.

“Why are you acting like this?” He calmly whispered. His hot hand wiped your face.

“She did…What.” You stare at him with blurry vision. You wanted him to finish his sentence from earlier.

“She got mad at me.”

“For. What?” you grumbled.

“She got mad at me over something stupid."

“You want to elaborate on that? I’m listening.” you speak firmly.

“At her party, she was tipsy....She pulled me to the side and kept wanting to talk about her mom and about how it affected her but honestly, I didn’t want to hear about that sad stuff. I’m not trying to be fucked up or disrespectful but…I don’t want that load on my brain….Nor do I care to have it….She got mad and offended because I told her I’m not trying to hear all of that and…We got into a little argument and words were exchanged and now, we just don’t speak to each other as much.”

You stare at him, it was nothing but the truth.

“Why was the baby…With Jake…Instead of your dad’s?”

“He got called in that day. That’s all. Jacob offered to babysit because I got off of patrol and I was tired. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“Okay. I will ask him.” you tell him. You didn’t need to, but you wanted his reaction.

“Ask him.” He says unfazed. You look at him for a moment.

“Did she say anything disrespectful?” You asked.

“Of course, she did. She was mad. I’m not telling you specific words.”

“…You’re no fun.” you speak quietly.

His lips lifted in amusement.

You grasp at him and pull him desperately close and breathed him in.

“You really thought I would cheat on you? Come on, Y/N.” he affectionately says to you.

“I didn’t know what to think….You seemed so snappy with me..”

“I’m sorry..” he whispered, “I don’t feel like myself when you’re not with me. Then, you left early. You’re back now and everything feels better…I feel better.”

"I feel better too." you admit with a whisper.

A quick knock made you both sit up as Paul's father then entered, peaking his head in.

"Dinner's on the table."

Once the doorway was abandoned, Paul looked around.

“Where’s your stuff?”

“At home. You were still on patrol and I came here.” you answer quietly as you get up.

He reminded you of his fluidity when he’s suddenly in front of you blocking you from reaching the door.

“You’re not happy to see me?” he asked in a murmur.

You peak up at him, raising a hand to show ‘a little’. You chortle at his reaction.

“I am happy to see you…I just want you all to myself.” you say as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I am yours as you are mine.” he says before making your knees almost buckle from his open mouth kiss on your marked neck.

Paul’s father had a great time scrolling through the pictures as you and Paul cleaned up after dinner.

“Never fail to amaze me, Y/N.”

“That means a lot.” you tell him.

Paul tugged on your night shorts when you both got home and slid into bed.

A weird wave flowed through you. It was like your heart was longing for something. For someone.

Breaking away from his thick kisses, you tell him softly, “Sorry…Im just..I’m not really in the mood right now.”

“Alright.” He says and lays down but you didn’t want to leave him hanging.

You press a slow kiss to his mouth and pulled his hardened flesh out and began to stroke him with your hand. He kept his mouth on yours until he milked out cum in your hand with a moan.

Bella cooked dinner for the Black household. She was happy that you were in town again.

Hugs were given to Bella, she made you laugh by how she didn’t want to let you go.

You hug Jacob and he squeezed you until you groan with a laugh after telling you couldn’t breathe.

Billy returned the hug you bent down to give him.

You join the dinner table.

Rachel walked in and it was like she wasn’t affected by your presence. She did stare at Paul.

“Don’t worry about her.”

You hear Paul’s voice in your head.

You glare at him, but he didn’t care. He kept a firm hand on your thigh. He leaned and place a sweet kiss on your cheek. It softened you up.

“Soo, how was Italy? Details.” Bella says to you after plates were made.

You dive in. It was supposed to be a conversation for just you and Bella, but you noticed Rachel glancing in you two’s direction from time to time.

“I’ll show you pictures after we’re done eating.” you tell Bella.

“You better show me pictures too.” Jacob cuts in.

“Ugh, fine.” you playfully say with a smile.

“You didn’t tell them the part about how much you missed me.” Paul says.

“I missed Paul. A lot.” You speak meekly.

"And I missed you." Paul says back.

"We know." both Bella and Jacob ring out. It made you crack a smile.

You noticed he passed the way home.

“Can I take you out for dessert?”

“Gosh, yes.” you smile.

He smiles back a bit.

A shared treat is the highlight as you both are centimeters apart, even though you two were sitting across from each other.

Public affection wasn’t a sheepish idea, lips weren’t shy from being pressed.

The bill came and you go to pull out your card, only to find him closing the bill.

“You paid?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

As you ride in the passenger seat, his hands worked the steering wheel.

“So….Where did you get money from?”

“I earned it.”

“…How?”

“Y/N… Stop worrying.” he says as he flicks the turn signal.

“I’m not…I just…I don’t know.”

“I had fun..Did you have fun?”

“Yes…You know I did.” You say with a grin.

“Okay, then.” He says with his own warm grin. You place a hand on his thigh but gasp a bit as you then turn the radio knob up.

“Our song.” you cooed with a smile. You kiss a sweet kiss on his cheek. The sappy smile spread across his face says he continues to drive.

It was an easy afternoon as you both lounged in the Black’s residence. Jacob and Paul were battling their video game characters on the tv screen.

"Oh, yeah. I saw your mom in Port Ang when me and Bells went to catch a movie, earlier today." Jacob says to Paul casually.

Paul groaned in annoyance next to you under his breath, "Did she say anything to you?"

"Yeah. She remembered my face but not my name. She asked me where you live now. She told me she stopped by your old place but I told her I didn't know. It wasn't my place to tell."

"I appreciate that. I do not need her popping up where I live now."

"Why don't you want your own mother to know where you live?" Rachel then asks.

"It's none of anybody's business. Im not dealing with her." Paul answered. It wasn’t polite.

“You should make amends or something with her. Not all of our moms are living and breathing.” Rachel says.

“Im grown. I should be able to do what I choose.” he says impatiently.

“You should choose to not take things for granted. She could be here today and gone tomorrow. You just don’t care and for what?”

“Yet, you choose to talk too fucking much.” Paul says roughly putting the controller down. He won against Jacob but you put a hand on his shoulder to make sure he calmed down. You were genuinely shocked at his rough tone.

She chuckled a bit, “What?”

“You have a big ass fucking mouth and you especially have no room to talk about what anybody should be doing.”

“You’re mad because I spoke my mind-“

“Just shut the fuck up, already.”

“You shut the fuck up.” Jacob adds, defending his sister.

This were escalating fast.

“Whoa. We’re not doing this.” you say grabbing Paul’s arm for dear life, he was ready to lunge out of his seat at Jacob.

“We’re going home. I’m not doing this shit. Not today.” Paul grits out as he gets up.

“Come on, Y/N.” he barks out as he’s walking out.

The baby contently babbled as you slowly walked them around the living room in your home as Paul fumed silently on the couch. He stared fiercely at the television that was off.

“Talk to me….” you say gently.

“She’s been gone since forever…But she comes back and she suddenly thinks that she has an idea of anything.”

He gets up with an angry huff and you both watch him leave out of the living room.

Placing a kiss on your baby’s head, you continue to hold them.

You gave him his space to cool down.

The baby yawned after some time and you rocked them to sleep. You made dinner but the smell still didn’t make him come out.

After that, you decide to take a shower. The water fell on your body but you pressed a hand to the tile to steady yourself a bit.

Sadness hit you like truck. You figured it would be the only time you could get away with crying. You silently cried, crying because you didn’t know how to make the stupid tears stop. You didn’t know why you thought of wanting to be in Italy. It felt nostalgic in a way. It made you sad.

Grabbing your robe from the hook of the door after drying off, you kept the door open to your art room while you blindly sketched.

You heard footsteps after the bedroom door opened.

Turning in your stool, you peak at him.

He only stops in the doorway.

Rising up, you walk to him and take his hand, staring at it for a moment. You kiss his fingers and he brings his hand to your cheek before kissing you.

He tugged you to the bedroom and brought you in his lap as he sat on the bed.

You trail your nose from his neck to his cheek before gently swiping your lips back and forth on his cheek.

"Eat dinner with me, at least." you encouraged in a soft way.

“I’m not hungry.”

“It’ll make you calm down.” You whispered with a kiss on his cheek.

“That shit pisses me off.”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Nobody knows!” He says hoarsely.

“Right, so why are you letting that affect you?….” you ask carefully and softly. You sigh a bit before caressing the nape of his neck. You try to get up to get him to eat but he doesn’t let go.

“I don’t want to eat right now.” He admitted quietly.

“Okay.” You whispered.

He then looks down and tugged the strings of your robe loose and it fell gracefully off of your body and onto the floor.

He sinks you down on him and you both breathe out a shaky moan. It felt like it’s been way too long. You both clutch each other for dear life.

He drowned you in kisses to drown out your moans and groans, as you both moved in sync with each other.

The bed shook and rocked a bit as he puts you on your back to reach more of you.

He worked his hips as your legs were opened and you moaned rapidly as it seemed like he was reaching and touching your soul.

You felt like you were out of your mind as you look down to see his glistened member slide in and out of your wetness. You look up at him looking down at you through hooded eyes.

"Mine."

You reach to touch his cheek after hearing Paul's thought, you stutter out an I love you. He puts your legs over his shoulders and he lays forward to continue to rock his hips in you. You clutch onto his back at the mind blowing thrusts.

He left his load to ooze out on your stomach. The make out contained a need and want for each other. He did work up an appetite as you watch him clear his dinner plate and asked for more.

Paul watched in the afternoon as you got dressed and undressed. You spent an entire hour in the mirror. He tilted his head.

"You look fine. You changed your outfit twice already."

"I didn't like how the last looked on me." you say honestly and turn in the mirror.

"We're just going over Emily’s.”

“Still…” you persist as you tugged on your clothes.

“They’re coming right off when we get home anyway.” He says as he leans in your ear.

You jerk a bit with a grin at his nip at your neck. Your legs are shaky as you grip onto his arms.

Claire was over this time, she saw the small child and smiled and talked to them. She was in her element as she was able to do the same with Sam and Emily’s child.

Claire still was up under you. You didn’t mind. Paul however, noticed you didn’t bother to join in conversations.

He kneeled in front of you when you were sitting on the couch.

“You alright?”

You nod contently.

He looks behind him to see the blaring television of cartoons showing the importance of washing the germs away.

“You can be with the grownups.” He teased as he rubbed your knees.

You laugh slightly at that and he brings out a smile.

“Paul, play with us.” Claire invited.

“Yeah, Paul. Play with us.” You tease.

Paul then sits next to you and brings your head to his chest.

At home and in the shower, you felt like something was heavy on your chest and the only way to let it out was by crying.

You tried to be quiet and let the tears fall like the shower water. Your cries became thicker when you realize how you wished to be in Italy. A certain feeling, a longing to be there was deeply great.

You cried harder when you realized you were crying about another paradise while your own husband was in the next room. You prayed that he didn't hear the sobs as you tried your best to keep them hushed.

Paul sat silently as he watched you enter the room. He didn't take his eyes off of you. You only kept a shirt and underwear on and go to approach him but stop and turn to your side of the room.

“I almost forgot. I made you something.” you say with an excited smile.

He watched as you rummaged through your belongings.

You pull out a hand sized clay and painted wolf. Identical to his own wolf.

His eyes light up like a thousand stars as he got up and slowly took it from your hands.

“You made this?”

“I did.” you proudly nod.

He couldn’t stop staring at it. He slowly sat down and sunk into the mattress. It was nicely in his hands, he shifted it in his hands and underneath each paw had both initials. A watery smile spread on his face.

You place two hands on each side of his head and press a kiss on his forehead.

He sniffed.

“I love you, Paul.” you say. But, you watch his face carefully and cautiously.

“I know you do…I love you.” he says after clearing his throat a bit. Wet eyes looked up, “Just tell me…Do you regret us?”

You shake your head as you softly speak with sureness, “No…No…I dont.” as you caress his cheek.

“Y/N…Im not stupid….I hear you crying sometimes in the shower….” he stated with quiet intensity.

“Paul..It’s nothing…I don’t want to think about that.”

He blinked at you as he held onto what you had given him. You thought of the email you read earlier that day. More work.

“I leave again…Back to Italy.”

He looks away. You move his chin but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

“I want to take the baby this time.” You offer. He looked at you then with a fierce gaze.

“Well, you’re not.” You huff, “Paul-”

“What do you need to take them for?” “I just miss them a lot when I’m away. I’m even giving you a break.”

“I don’t care about that.” He stressed and stand up. You step back at his towering figure.

He turns his back to pace and you take his arm but he gently slips it out of your grasp in defeat.

“I don’t even give a fuck if I sound selfish, but I don’t want you to leave. I need you here. With me.”

You look down.

“I can’t.”

“You can….You just won’t.” he snapped.

“This is the most money I’ve ever made….I’ve ever had….”

“You’re telling me…Money is more important than us.” He states flatly.

You shake your head, “That's not what I’m saying….I dreamed almost all of my life..What it would be like to do what I’m doing..Even working with top notch people…”

“You’re a mother now…There’s going to come a time where you’ll miss out on important moments if you’re not careful.”

“I agree.” you say quietly. It seemed like they were already growing up so fast.

“I’m protecting all of the time….I don’t want my dad or anybody else raising them up, Y/N. We’re the parents.”

He then stared at you for some time. It made you almost nervous until you breathe out a small, “What?”

“It’s like…You’re different.”

“Come on, Paul. Seriously?”

He doesn’t crack a smile, “I’m serious…” he rakes his eyes on you, “It feels like each day, I’m losing you more and more…I feel like we’re holding on by a thread.”

Your breath hitched as you wrap your arms around his neck, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you feel that way. I love you for life and I meant it when I told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I was scared that you were cheating on me and I just love you so much. You’re not losing me because I’m yours. I give you all of me.” you ramble on.

His arms hold you tight with his face buried in the crook of your neck as he murmured, “This won’t be forever. Just bear with me.”

“I don’t care about that. I just want to experience things with you….To where it’s the both of us on that plane instead of me leaving you at the airport all of the time.”

“You don’t get it Y/N. We do experience things here at home.”

“I have great memories with you….My favorite memories are always with you.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” You say as his hands felt up against you.

“Then stay…I’ll get on my knees right now.”

“No. Don’t.” you say to that as his hands come around to rise up your shirt.

He peered down at you with a pained expression, “Just stay…”

“I’ll actually think about it.” you whisper. He didn’t like that answer.

You reach to glue your lips to his before pulling back but it was him who held the back of your head to mush your mouth back to his. It was a desperate kiss.

Walking back, lips never detached. They only detached from your back lying back in bed.

You made sure to let him know in a breathy voice as you look up at him, “I don’t regret you.”

“I don’t regret you.” he tells you back as your underwear is peeled down your legs.

You gasp sharply at his mouth. He kissed and licked the mark on your hip before attaching his mouth your center.

Your hips lift as his tongue and mouth wouldn’t stop licking and eating at you. You were weak from his skills but you still gripped the sheets and snaked your hands through his hair.

Flipping you onto your knees, he lined himself up with your entrance as you slightly shake.

“Stay.” He whispered as you brushed against him impatiently.

You speak out his name in a soft whisper as you didn’t want to choose, especially right then.

A sudden steady rhythm that stretched through you, made you melt and it made you pant out as he slid in and out of your sensitive walls.

Realigning his mouth, his teeth sunk in your mark as he held you up with his strong hands on your chest.

Loudly moaning erotically, it felt like an out of body experience. Stars assaulted your vision and it was way better than any euphoric vision that you had ever felt before. His skin brushing with yours felt electrifying.

He kept going and your whines were loud as his hips snapped in a steady pace. You were trembling as he moved you both forward, pressed onto the mattress, to have his chest press on your back.

You felt like you were losing your mind as deep strokes filled you up. You panted and begged his name as he breathily moaned in your ear.

You didn’t want to get out of bed as you moaned a bit at the sunlight behind your closed eyelids since you were deep under covers.

Physically, you felt off. It didn’t feel like you were pregnant. It felt like something totally different. Like a hole in your chest that was slowly forming. It felt small.

The small tremors came and went involuntarily. They were subtle on the outside but yet, in the inside, in your soul, you weren’t settled.

There would be times that your heart felt like it was reaching for something. It kind of scared you. It constantly felt like a sick feeling in your stomach of something of needing to leave.

You were thankful that Paul was still home. You slowly walk to the kitchen and fill your glass with water from the fridge. You drink as you leaned your head against the stainless steel with your eyes closed. It felt like you trying your best to stay in the moment and not dissociate from reality.

You listened to Paul tending to the baby as you focused on that. You focused on their goo’s and gurgles.

He didn’t mind you being extra clingy. It was the highlight of him being able to stay home.

You kissed him every chance you got. When the child napped, you rode him on the couch in desperation. He gripped your hips and bottom as he met your thrusts. You wanted the feeling of the hole forming in your chest to go away.

You thought about picking up your abandoned habit since your appetite was slowed. Especially at dinner.

“Do you want this?” you ask.

“It looks like you took one bite.” Paul commented.

You shrug but he says, “Just take a couple bites for me and I’ll finish the rest.”

He watched closely as you slowly took bites. You had forced yourself to swallow.

He sees you at the front door, sliding on shoes once dinner was wrapped.

“Where you going?”

“I don’t know…I was just thinking…Maybe I could you know….Get some more?” you say nervously.

“Get more…Of what?”

“Weed…Its just to help me eat.”

You watch his face fill with slight disappointment.

“It wasn’t a problem before…You’re doing good, Y/N.”

You look down and nod a bit as you slide off your shoes.

“Come on to bed.” he says as he takes a hold of your waist.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec.” You move in the opposite direction.

“Y/N.” he whispered as he took your hand.

“I just want to draw something really quick.” you say and rush a bit into your art room.

Locking the door, you scribble sloppily, it was what your body was itching to do. Tears formed as the picture became clearer and clearer. You felt like a mad man.

Shaky hands roughly held up the roughly sketched, familiar portrait of the face that you tried to bury in the back of your mind since you had came home.

It hurt to rip it into tiny pieces as you forced yourself to. The small shreds were in the trash can and a tear snaked down your face. Each tear felt like a tear in your heart, opening the hole in your chest. You just didn’t understand it.

You kick the trash can and it rolls and hit the door with force with a bang. You use your good arm to swipe the pens, pencils, and paintbrushes off of your desk. You pace with clenched fists.

Hearing clatters, Paul knocked on the door after jiggling on the doorknob, only to find it locked.

“Y/N.” he called through the door.

“What!” you call out, trying to even out your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine!” you say in the best tone possible.

He listened outside of the door, to see if more noises would be made.

You put your head down on your desk, your own heavy breathing was what you eventually fell asleep to.

You stifle a sob but it bursted through as your head was down.

“This is a fucking nightmare.” you choke out.

A warm hand rubbed your back. You or Sam didn’t care about the wet tears that was being smeared on his naked chest.

“I-I m-miss him.” you hiccuped.

“Y/N…He's a cold one…You have an entire husband...It’s straight up wrong all around.” he replies with concern dripping in his tone.

“I just…I just need to see him…I’ll be quick…I promise.” you whine, you sounded pathetic and needy.

Taking a hold of your shoulders roughly and looking you in the eye, Sam’s hardened face was looking back at you. The sad look in his eyes is something you wouldn’t forget.

“What the hell am I going to tell Paul? Huh? That I’m babysitting all because you’re willingly running off to go see a fucking vampire? Snap out of it!”

You gasp lightly as you blink awake, noticing that you fell asleep at your desk. The window showed the still dark sky.

An empty side of the bed was met with your eyes. You slowly lay back down to control your wild heart rate. It was still late but just before the sun was due to come up.

The baby started to wake up as you finished using the bathroom.

You winced whenever you had to pick them up. They weren’t heavy at all, so you knew it wasn’t the issue.

Pain, feeling like small tears inside of your skin, was evident in your wrist. Your wrist felt weak.

You still carried on, not thinking too much on it.

It didn’t stop you from reducing the amounts of picking the child up.

You did a lot with one hand.

“What happened with your hand?” Paul asks with his mouth full. He came back from patrol around lunchtime.

“Ugh, close your mouth. What happened to class these days?”

“Nobody told you to make this good.”

You both laugh in sync.

“Just a little sore. I think I slept on it wrong.” You finally say.

Paul peered at you at the table as the child was to him with one hand. The doe eyed baby was blinking at their surroundings.

“You have been using your hands a lot.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” you wave off.

He doesn’t say anything. But, you watch as he kept his eyes on the tender wrist that was not being used.

Lying with each other in bed at night, he kept kissing the inside of your sore wrist.

“Better?”

You shake your head with a smile.

“It’s a little swollen.” he says quietly as he takes a closer look.

“It will be okay.”

“How are you going to be able to work with his hand?”

“Use my other one….” you answer.

“Or….Take a rest.”

“I’ll see someone about it, if you want.”

“Genuinely….Are you okay?”

“..I’m fine.” you smile a bit. He looks at you deeply to study you. You nervously chuckle a bit before caressing his cheek.

“Why do you act like I don’t know you?”

“I’m not..” you say quietly as you look him in the eye.

“Your episode last night?”

“I got mad at my drawing. I felt more looser and more relaxed when I drank.” You roll your eyes at the thought.

“You should feel better that you’re not consuming that stuff anymore…I don’t like feeling numb whenever you feel numb.”

“I sometimes forget that you can feel what I feel.” You sheepishly say.

“You’re sad about something…You’re trying to drown it out the best way you can when all you have to do is talk to me.”

You look to the side, before shaking your head a bit.

“I haven’t told you…Because I didn’t want to freak out.”

He’s silent as he listens.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You whispered.

“I promise.”

“In Italy…” you swallow, “ I saw…A group of people being lured to their deaths. I think it’s still messing with me..”

He knitted his eyebrows a bit.

“What happened?”

“A woman…Was leading people into this place. She had them think it was a museum or something. They believed it-“ you suddenly got a sick feeling deep in the pit of your stomach, “I didn’t do anything..This woman was so scared and I just watched-“ you sharply inhale.

“You’re not the one who killed them.” He says as he traced your face structure with his hands.

“The screams…They were horrifying. I let them follow her when I knew what she was. She used her beauty for bait.” You choke out thickly as you shook your head slightly, “She was their tour guide.”

“No…I’m not letting you blame yourself…Whoever lured them, was it vampires? Who killed them?” He then asks.

“Yes. I know what I saw.” you hiccuped.

“Y/N.” He warned.

“Yes.” You corrected.

“Was it the night you called me? The night you wanted me to stay on the phone with you? When you thought you were going to die?” He asked quietly.

You take in a breath as you shake your head. You were glad you both were holding each other.

“The night I called you…Was because…I almost got robbed at knifepoint.”

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” He demanded as he sat up but you still cling onto him as you sat up as well.

“Paul you promised you-“ you try to calm his levels down.

“No. Fuck that. What would’ve happened had you died? Huh?” He interrupted.

“But I-I didn’t! I’m still here a-a-and luckily I was rescued from that guy. He saw my ring and demanded it but he didn’t get that far to take it from me.” You stammer out.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand as you wrap your arms tighter around him.

“Paul…” you call to him softly.

“Why don’t you ever tell me shit?” He asks you.

You look down but your chin is brought right back up with his warm hand, to look right at him.

“You better not ever keep some shit like that from me again, do you understand?”

You nod with obedience.

“Say it.”

“I understand.”

“If you don’t want to think about me, think about the child we have in the next room.”

“Don’t say that. You’re on my mind too.” You say as you sat on your knees to look him in the eye.

"I know it may seem like Im holding you back...But, I need you in my life, Y/N."

The level of sincerity was great and you solidify your understanding with a kiss and tell him back, "I need you in my life too."

You hear the fridge close and you snort a bit as you zip up your light jacket. Paul was home.

"No food."

"Im going shopping, Paul." you reassure him.

His eyes light up, "Im going with you."

"You ate the entire box in one sitting." you say to him as he pushed the cart down the aisle.

"That's why we are here: to get another box so I can enjoy the entire box again."

"Ugh." you say and he chortles as you walk off to the other aisle.

Turning into the aisle, you slowly walk as you see a conventionally attractive older woman was smiling and speaking to Paul.

She was way too close for your liking.

Her sultry aura dripped off of her so fluidly. A simple word like cougar would insult her by the way she moved with such grace. However, she was bold.

Bending a bit with a smile, she speaks to your kid.

“Your daddy is such a handsome man.”

“Daddy is very handsome, now walk away. You’re scaring my baby.” You say impatiently in the eye before giving Paul the box of cereal that you picked out. “Come on, Y/N. I’m ready to check out.” He tells you and the woman watched as she squared her shoulders while readjusting her purse. Paul brought you close while walking off.

The store receipt and change was handed to Paul after checkout. He shoved it in his pocket.

Questions flooded your brain but you decide against it as he told you to sit in the car while he loads the groceries.

You rattle a toy and your baby grips it out of your hands as Paul opens the car door and sits in the driver’s seat.

You say it sweetly.

“Paul, this will be the last time I bring it up.”

He looks over at you for a second before focusing back on the road he was driving on, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you earned your money and you didn’t borrow anything from anyone? Whatever you need, you know that what is mine is yours too, right?”

“I earned it, Y/N. I didn’t steal. I didn’t borrow. Nobody gave it to me. I got this on my own.” He reassured carefully. “From a job?”

“An under the table one.” He says and he seemed content.

You leave it at that. You felt that he was telling the truth. You didn’t want to feel like you were nagging about something pointless. The cheery mood that came from him, had seeped into you.

The days followed and he came home with beautiful flowers. You set them in a vase and hug him tight.

“They’re so pretty.”

“Like my wife.”

You flushed as you look down with a smile.

“Thank you, husband.”

He lifts your chin up and a sensual kiss was planted as he turned you around to grip onto the counter with your hands. You watched the backyard as felt him drop your underwear to your ankles.

He held the baby as you looked around at the glass counters. He asked you to go on a drive with him. You found out that it was more than a drive.

“Which one?” Paul asks you.

“Um…” you trail as your eyes spotted a shiny bracelet.

“That one?”

You look up at him and nod shyly. He nods in understanding.

“Hold them really quick?” He says to you and you take the baby and watch as he talked to an associate.

You held your breath as he snapped it on your wrist in the car. The soft coos of the baby in the car seat, was heard.

“What do you think?”

You look up at him and back down.

“I have..No words…I’m never taking this off.” You say as you couldn’t look away from the bracelet in your wrist.

He chuckled a bit.

You lean back into the couch as the night fell when you both got home.

He placed a kiss on your mouth. A kiss on the side of your mouth before placing a fat smooch back onto your mouth. His mouth was addicting.

He offered you the first bite of the burger he was about to eat but you politely declined.

“Why are you spoiling me so much?” You ask shyly.

“Do you like it?” He asks after swallowing his bite.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I love it.” You say. The treatment made you feel good.

“Good, because I love you.”

You twitch a smile and he pressed an open mouth kiss on your mouth.

You lick your lips a bit and taste what he ate on your lips before speaking out with a soft grin, “I’m not safe from older chicks either, I guess.”

“No young chick taught me what I know.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh…So, you were…Really in grown people’s business young.”

He deeply chuckled a bit before swiping his thumb on your cheek affectionately.

“…Was it a lot?” You then ask quietly.

“Guess.”

“A hundred.”

“Stop playing.”

“Okay…Ninety nine.”

He rolled his eyes as you chortled but you squint a bit to be serious.

“Ten.”

“Mm…Close. Go lower.”

“Just tell me..Were they all older?”

“We’re the same age so..You’re the youngest I’ve been with.”

“Why older?”

“Mature. They all had their own. I always thought I would end up with a woman older than me.” “…You took my virginity..What was it like for someone to take yours?”

“I felt like a reborn man…You couldn’t tell me shit after.”

You both laughed in harmony.

“I only had one kiss. I was like…In kindergarten. It doesn’t count.” You say quietly. He snorted a bit.

“I’m your first real kiss.” He smirked.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” You muttered at his cockiness.

“You didn’t have to say anything. Our first kiss, you kissed like your only kiss was in Kindergarten.”

Your jaw drops at you tap him on his peck with the back of your hand. He laughs at your reaction.

“Rude.”

“I’m kidding.”

“No, you’re not. Asshole.” You say while he joins your laugh.

“You’re definitely a great learner.” He compliments with a brush of his thumb on your bottom lip, “But, you were still scared.” He says as he leans in.

“I wasn’t.”

“Uh-huh.” He crooned.

“I wasn’t….I wasn’t.”

“Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

“I knew things weren’t going to be the same after we kissed.”

He smiled a bit.

“I would’ve thought you had way more bodies, though. The girls made it seem like you had a huge track record.” You tell him. The way they made it seem, it was as if Paul screwed the entire La Push population.

He shrugged.

“That’s why I don’t want you to ever get out of character over them. They see you with me and they get jealous.” He says.

“You get jealous too.” You smile a bit.

“Because..I’m a guy. I know how guys think.”

You roll your eyes a bit.

Sue welcomed you in with a smile.

“Leah isn’t here. But you’re more than welcome to wait for her here.”

“I didn’t come for Leah….I came to speak to you.”

She was surprised but encouraged you to elaborate.

Showing her your limp wrist, she soon understood.

”It cracks sometimes when I circle it.” you demonstrate and small crackles fill the small space. She carefully cradled it.

“You overworked it. A little case of tendonitis. You definitely can’t keep using this hand.”

“That’s the hand I use to hold my paintbrush. The hand that I draw with.” you frown.

“Y/N, you have to rest this. Now..It’s only for a couple of days. If you keep working it, it will take longer to heal.”

You huff.

“I leave tomorrow.” you stress.

“You can pick which one is more important. Pain? Or resting?”

Opening the door to your home, you were greeted with kisses before you’re sat on the couch.

“So, what happened?”

“I’m okay….”

“You’re lying like hell.” He sniggered.

“It’ll be fine after like tomorrow.” you rolled your eyes a bit.

“Anything to still go.”

“After this trip, I’ll take a break.”

“Take a break, now.” He egged on.

You playfully groan with your head back on the sofa.

“Is being home that bad?”

“Shush. It’s just….I need to be there…I think I want to make this my last trip for a while.” you say softly.

He nods sadly.

The morning came and he stared sadly at you. It almost broke your heart.

“Come on, fix your face.” you say sadly.

He looked like a sad child with his pout. You take a hold of both of his facial cheeks with one hand as you kiss his frown away.

“I promise…..After this…You have me to yourself for a while.” you state after each kiss.

He sighed under his breath as he takes a look at you.

“I hope you really mean it.”

“You know I do.” you say smiling.

You felt miserable. Like something was deeply missing. The luxurious hotel that you were staying in, even felt lonely. A shower was thought to be helped, but it only made you cry a bit. You never thought you would want to take a shower below lukewarm.

You just weren’t ready to come to terms that craving a forbidden presence was the issue.

You were debating on reaching for the alcohol that was in the mini fridge, but you went against it.

As you took a morning stroll, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of Italian chatter consumed your surroundings.

You then saw him. Edward stood in front of you like a statue.

“H-hi.” you stammer out.

“Hi.”

You both stood there, staring at each other and it was like you weren’t even feeling how you were feeling. You felt better in a way. It was surprising. You shift on your feet as you then open your mouth. You couldn’t stop the question from coming out even if you wanted to.

“Can..Can I hug you?”

He nods with slight eagerness.

You clutch the back of his shirt as your nose was buried in his cloth covered chest. Deep rubs on your back smoothly went up and down.

“It was like…I was going through withdrawal.” you say quietly.

“Me as well…My nights became moonless.” he murmured.

You step back to look at his face carefully, his hands gently rubbing your arms up and down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing it’s just…..Your words are so poetic.” you shyly chuckle.

He grinned a bit, “It’s just how I feel..”

“So..Is it always going to be like this? When we don’t see each other?”

“I hope not. I like happy times.”

“Me too.” you replied with your head down as you stepped further back.

“You’re here?”

“A meeting.”

“Ah…” he says with a slight nod.

You both then slowly walked side by side.

“Where are you staying?”

“Hotel.. I was walking around…You stayed?” You ask the last question in disbelief.

“I didn’t want to go back to Forks. I have a penthouse here for right now. Alice just came in around dawn but she would be delighted to know that you are here again.”

“No Jasper?”

“She was only here to check on me. She doesn’t want to involve him, especially with his fighting background. She also wanted to keep an eye on the Volturi.”

“Oh…They haven’t given you any problems?”

“No, no problems.”

“That’s good..”

“I can offer you the penthouse for the duration of your stay if you’d like.”

“Um…” you nervously chuckled, “That’s not a good idea.”

“How come?” He asked dripping in perplexity.

“Why would you offer me something like that?” You ask quietly.

“Save your money.. I don’t have to stay there with you.” He says and drops the keys easily in your hands.

“Then where would you go?” You ask out in a stutter as you clutch them.

“I will make do.”

“That’s not necessary.” you say as you try to give them back but he refused.

“Y/N, just take it. You’re the last person who needs to worry about me.”

You both continue to walk.

“I feel guilty.” You declare.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to leave…I’m always leaving my love ones all the time and…I just want to feel more happy with all of this…”

“You should feel more happy. You’re achieving so much.”

“I had a dream when I was back at home.”

“About sudoku?” he joked. You breathe out a small chuckle, “No…It was a bit..Intense.”

You were second guessing on telling him.

“Was it bad?”

“…I cried over you...Over needing to see you…” you blurt out and hide your face in your hands from slight embarrassment.

He’s quiet for a moment before pulling your hands from your face.

“Would you like a distraction?” he asked softly.

You study his face before nodding slowly.

Walking around the museum in the Italian country, you felt like you were in art heaven. The different paintings and sculptures made you think of new ideas right off the bat.

“Do you like tennis?” Edward asks quietly with his hands in his pockets.

You shrug.

“How do you feel about an open match?”

“Is it boring?” you ask back.

“Who knows. Maybe?” he grinned a bit. You chuckle a bit.

“I’ll go for inspo.”

He shrugged with a soft smile.

“Why tennis?”

“Someone read a tournament that’s happening..An anticipated player is competing.”

You hum out a response.

Riding up the elevator, it opens and you step out.

Suddenly you can’t see and you stretch your hands out to feel.

“Edward?”

“Just a little further.” He says and you hear a door open.

You shuffle your feet and you see hands be taken away from your eyes. You see his warm and friendly grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back but you looked around. The penthouse left you breathless, it was like something you would only see in decor magazines.

“Whoa.” You slowly turn around.

You follow him as he pushed open bedroom door.

Your hands go to your mouth in shock as you walked in.

“You can sleep here.” He revealed.

“Wow.” You say as you take it in.

“I’ve never been in here.”

“I’m shocked.” You say sarcastically as you both grin a bit.

You sit on the edge of the bed and you stand back up. You were shocked by the softness of it. How comfortable it was.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, yeah. I like it.” You reassured softly.

“It’s all just crazy…” you say as you look down.

“What’s crazy?”

“I don’t know..It just feels safe…Here…” you whispered shyly.

“Safe?”

You nod.

“Like nothing can happen to me.”

“That’s good…Right?”

“I suppose…”

He touched your arm, “Alice is on her way up.”

She hugged you with happiness once she seen you.

“I actually like this surprise.” She exclaimed as she kept pulling you in for hugs.

“This is a nice place.” You tell her.

“Better than the hotel?” Edward asks.

“Meh.” You speak.

Alice let out a crooned laugh that made you join in.

You ignored the pain in your wrist that night as you finished up your last finishing touches of your project.

Irritation was strong as you washed your hands from the paint.

You were falling asleep at the dinner table.

“I’m not kicking you out of your place.” You say before pulling the covers back.

“I only wish for you to be comfortable.”

Your hear pounded as you didn't want the sad, empty feeling to come back.

“Stay...Just rush in here if you hear me screaming from a nightmare.” You say as you lay down. He nods.

“I’ll be in the living room.”

You nod as you yawn and your eyes were thankful that you decided to close them.

You turn the huge canvas around as a soft but excited gasp was made.

“I love it.” the woman smiled brightly. She then tells her assistant to cut you a check. She had asked for a picture to hang in her office. She was more than happy with the result as someone was already hanging it up for her without her asking.

“I’m glad you do.”

“People will love it.” she beamed. You both shake hands.

“Have you ever thought of having your own business like me but dealing with art?”

“N-not really…I mean, I just focused a lot on creating visuals.”

“That’s great and all, I feel like this could be an amazing opportunity for the both of us. You have good credentials…What do you say to perhaps…Your own branded art supplies?”

You had to pick your jaw up from the ground.

“You mean like…With my own name and everything?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “We can start small..”

“Um…” you start to think and then snap a bit, “Paintbrushes. Toy restorers…Customizers…Brushes to get those small details are kind of hard to find. Especially when it’s time to paint the eyes.”

“It’s a wide but niche audience. They might be willing to spend a little more since it’s not a constant buy.”

It’s what you two talked about.

You recapped what happened as you window-shopped with Alice. Edward being the third wheel.

“Don’t sign anything until it’s looked over. You’re vulnerable enough to not reap the benefits of your own brand and get cheated since this is your first time. They’re sharks for a reason.”

“I didn’t, plus nothing’s drawn up. I have her number for when I’m ready to take things further.” you tell her.

She eventually pulled you into a shop, you look at the shoes that were displayed and look over to see her already gone from your side.

"Where did she go?" you ask bewildered.

“More shoes.” Edward answered.

You roll your eyes as he chortled.

“This is her playground."

"Except this one won't tire her out." you muttered.

A whimsical chuckle intermixed with yours and it was such a unique sound, you would’ve thought it was fragment of your imagination.

Eyes stopped on a specific item. You slowly walk towards it and your heart lurched with joy.

A gasp, “Oh. Oh. These are…I need my size.” you decided with a point.

Irresistible.

It was something that you liked. A lot.

A whimsical chuckle met your ears.

“Someone’s been bit by the bug.”

“Hush. Who knows when’s the next time I get to buy shoes in Italy.” you grip his arm slightly.

You sit down on a bench but watched carefully as he kneels on one knee.

His hand propped the bottom of your leg and the shoe was slid onto your foot. Glancing up, the question was asked first with his golden eyes.

“Perfect fit…Right?”

It was.

You nod shyly with butterflies in your stomach.

“Yes.” you meekly tell him.

Alice's abrupt voice made you turn your attention from him.

"Are you getting them? Those are way better.” she says as she looked closer. Her eyes screamed approval.

“Yeah.” you reply with a smile.

“Good.” she says.

Before you knew it, the bag with the shoebox was in Edward’s hand before you could get up.

You stared at the mirror of the homemade, tailored outfit once you all came back to the penthouse.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“I think I look like I’m about to watch some tennis.” you answer.

She smiles largely as you halfheartedly pretended to serve with an invisible tennis racket in the mirror.

“Very classy.” you comment at the material as it complimented your body. It was as if it was made for it.

Alice was leaving. But she hugged you again.

“Maybe email me? From time to time?”

“I’ll try.” You say.

She took that and hugged you once more.

"Tell Jasper I said hey."

She nods with a smile.

“Be good.” She tells her brother with a slight point.

“I shouldn’t since you said it.” He says and she makes a face that makes him affectionately laugh. They hug.

People clapped politely as the first player was announced.

The excited claps came when the star player came out, waving as they were being announced.

You watched as they were focused, but yet getting ready to play. Immediately you felt goosebumps and the people around raised your excitement.

“I think this will be a good match.” Edward comments to you with a grin.

“What gives it away?”

“They’re hungry. Determined to win.” He speaks back, referring to the underdog player, and his elbows rests on his knees as he watches closely.

It was a good day to go. The sky had an overcast, which meant no alarms of Edward’s glistening skin, were going to be raised.

“Do you want some water?” He asks.

“S-sure.”

With the cold plastic cup, you kept it on your wrist discreetly. It felt good but the pain was annoying.

You tried to subtly circle it but you eventually rest it back in your lap.

Aggressive grunts and the cracks of the ball was heard as you watched the match progress. You watched the green ball go back and forth, bouncing off of each racket. It was intense.

You were glad that Edward picked good seats to where you didn’t have to turn your head from left to right a lot.

The scores were close. People were on edge. You even found yourself on edge as you bounced your leg a bit.

“Some are worried that their title will get taken away.” Edward explains the foreign conversation that was buzzed out about the established player. The new player were giving the established player a challenge.

As one player tossed the ball up to serve, you stopped breathing. Time was running out.

You lean forward with slightly narrowed and anticipated eyes as you make a grip on his knee with your good hand, “It’s getting close.” you gush to him. He leans and his soothing whisper tickled your ear, “Blue shirt over there…You will like their conversation.”

You watch as he leaned back in his seat and you discreetly peak and see the blue shirt, tuned into the match with a stoic look.

You look back to the match and watched in anticipation as the time was running out. It seemed like the people around you stopped breathing as head went to left to right, left to right. Watching the ball bounce back and forth.

Roars erupted in your ears.

Edward’s arm linked with yours as he steered you through the people that were trying to leave. Before you got closer to the guy who was finishing up his phone call, your heart pounded as he looked important. Even in casual clothes.

You let out a breath before thinking about walking slowly to the person who you wanted to make a good first impression on.

You stop and turn.

“Crap, what do I even say?”

“Ease in with comments on the game…..I can be next to you if you’d like.”

“You’ll distract me.” you whisper and his grin wasn’t missed. You only then realized that your arm was still linked with his and you quickly unlink.

Edward moved behind you and a soft rub of your shoulders was made for encouragement. You walk towards your opportunity who put their phone in their pocket.

The conversation went well, despite your nervousness that was hidden from you.

Holding phones close together, they tell you to keep in touch. You nod eagerly.

Cutting into your dinner through the dull pain, a second glass of water was sat down before Edward sits down himself.

“I’m glad you put down the drinking.” Edward comments.

“I wasn’t an alcoholic.”

“I didn’t say you were.” he says and rests his chin in his hand.

“I’m glad it all went better than I thought. Plus….I didn’t expect tennis to be that good.” you say after swallowing your chews.

“It was a good match. And..you got a good deal.”

You nod with an excited smile.

It was Edward’s turn to eat as he left you to start your project.

You winced. A lot.

Massaging the sore and tender wrist, you cursed and muttered under your breath as you felt that it was unfair timing to be experiencing such block.

You try again but you couldn’t even hold your paintbrush without pain subduing.

The pain kept continuing to throb.

Throwing down the paint brush with your other hand with a frustrated grunt, you still kept your tears to yourself. You didn’t know how you were supposed to complete this picture when it was just too painful to hold things.

It even hurt to use your hand, to call Paul.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” you say in a whisper.

“Told you, you keep overdoing and you’re making it worse.”

“I know but…I’m on fire right now with everything…. I can’t just stop.”

“Y/N..Sometimes it’s good to just take a break. Yeah, you didn’t go nowhere, but you were even working while you were pregnant.”

“They’ll find someone better. Then I’ll be replaced.”

“People want your hand for a reason. It’s unique.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband.” you say with a small smile.

He smiled a bit to himself, happy that your mood was lifting, “What did you do today?”

“Seen some tennis. It’s not as boring in person than it is on tv.”

“You seen it live? Like an actual match?”

“Yeah..I so have to take you sometime. I think you’ll get a kick out of it.”

“It’s a date.” He purred softly.

Giggling a bit, you agree, “It’s a date.”

Before getting off of the phone, he told you to don’t sneak and go work your painful hand. He made you promise.

Holding onto your painful wrist, you go out to the balcony.

It was peaceful as the outside table and chairs stared at you.

You sat a bit, sideways, on the ledge as you looked at what your surrounds were.

A small radio was left turned on from your curiosity.

Out of the small speakers, being a slave to love was the message from the singer as the song flooded your ears.

A deep breath that you breathed in, had let out as the view of the Italian country flooded your eyes.

The radio clicks off. You turn your head. Next you, Edward’s sat as you chuckle a bit.

“Didn’t like the song?” you tease.

“It constantly played back then. Didn’t think it would come back to haunt me.”

A synchronized and breathy laugh was shared between you two.

“The eighties…”

“Only bearable.” he answered.

“It was a nice song.” you mused quietly.

He’s quiet for a moment before the song resumes with harmony.

“If you’re tired of it, why did you turn it back on?” you ask when the music fills your ears.

He shrugged with his own smile, “I’ll atleast have a moment that I get to think back on with this song, if I were to hear it again.”

Comfortably shifting a bit, “Yeah. Having a song tied to a moment in your life is the best.”

“Why do you keep messaging your wrist?” He points.

“It’s tender. First case of tendonitis.”

His eyes softened with a tenderness that almost blew you away.

He opens his hand. You place it in his gentle touch as you relax. An ice pack on demand.

“Does this feel alright?”

“Yes.” you answer softly.

Your silk tennis skirt was risen on your thigh and a graceful finger, politely took the edge and softly pulled to straighten out of the hitch.

You swallow hard as your heart pounded.

“Edward?” you whisper.

“Yes?” he softly answers.

You take in a small breath before meeting his gaze.

“We can be friends. But…. If you were to never see me again, don’t search for me….Okay?”

With an intense gaze, he nods in deep understanding. With graceful obedience. It didn’t stop his caress on your wrist but it helped with the tenderness.

You both then look at the view, the song was slowly closing out with a fade of na na na’s. The singer lastly expressing how they can’t escape, due to being a slave to love.

He eventually put your wrist in a splint once you both came back inside.

“Thank you.” You say as you held your covered wrist.

“No need to thank me.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you lean your elbows on the island of the kitchen.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to go through that woman…With the paintbrushes..”

“It was only a nice thought..Nothings set in stone.”

“If you want it to be set in stone, I can help.”

“Edward.” You shake your head with a small grin.

“What?”

“Is that what Alice meant by be good?”

He chuckles softly, “At least with my investment, you wouldn’t have to split anything. Everything is yours.”

“I don’t think Paul would be the biggest cheerleader of that. Besides, after this trip I have to take a break to rest this.”

“I can make it to where you can control everything from home.”

“Gosh, you’re tempting.” You chuckle softly as you put your head down a bit.

“Just think about it, at least.”

“I’ll think about it.” You replied.

You stood at the unfinished canvas. So far, the under-color of the painting was the only thing on there.

The sketch with the charcoal was sloppy since you were using your other hand. You sigh as you kept looking at it as you began to worry. It wasn’t your best and it didn’t look promising. Your shoulders slumped at such thought.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Desire (part 2)

Player 001 x reader [SMUT]📖

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1

Tw: mentions of death, drugs, and physical abuse done to reader in a past relationship.

“The mask.” You said as you scanned his body.

“I can’t” he replies.

“So, you’re going to eat with it on? Pretty fucking dumb if you ask me” you scoffed. You walked up to him. Reaching for his mask, he grabbed your wrist before you could touch it. “I’m not scared of you.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“I am a million times more horrific than you are, (y/n). You don’t scare me either, even after your performance.” He answers back.

“Just let me see how beautiful you are” you beg quietly. he slowly leg go of your wrist, trusting you. You slowly remove his mask. Revealing beautiful, dark, eyes. His face was one of a kind, beautiful in every way. “You’re so handsome” you say.

“Thank you” he smiled shyly. “Dinner” he said, leading you to the ball room. You sat at a smaller table, Facing each other.

“What would you like to drink?” He asked pulling your chair, waiting for you to sit down.

“Whiskey please” you respond as he pushed in your chair.

“So, Mr. Front man, how did you get here?” You ask over the brim of your glass.

“In ho” he said. “my name is In Ho”

“Oh, well In Ho, how did you get here?”

“Well, I was a past winner. But, after I won, I had now where to go so the Front Man offered me his job so he could be a VIP” he explained. “I’m not necessarily supposed to be telling you this…” he trailed as if erasing every everything he said.

“It’s okay, I have no one to tell” you say, smiling sadly. “My mom died giving birth to me and my dad… well, he got really into some bad shit and he’s i dont know where”

“Have you tried to find him?” In Ho asked, making a mental note of something he couple do for you.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking for a really long time. I was actually spending my last few won on a bus ticket before your recruiter approached me offering to play Ddakji for money.” You responded. You sat in silence for a moment, the only sound was the slight scraping of silverware as you ate.

“I miss my father” you admitted. Words that had never been spoken. “I just wish I knew where he was, I wouldn’t judge him or try to fix him if he didn’t want to be fixed… I just want to see him and show him how strong I am.” In Ho nodded. You started to shed tears, the first time he had seen you cry since you had been there. He rushed to your side.

“Hey, it’s okay” he got onto one knee to level with you. “(Y/n), we will find him. I will find him… for you” he said. You looked at him, locking eyes intensely. In a moment of emotion, you kissed him. Surprised, you pulled back, covering your mouth.

“I’m so sorry, i don’t know why i- “ In Ho rapidly pressed his lips onto yours quickly. You melted into the kiss, he stood pulling you with him. He pushed you against the table, heatedly making out with you. You moaned into the kiss, allowing his tongue entry. He searched your mouth, almost like he was counting teeth. He hiked up your dress picking you up and setting you on the table, holding you close to him. You started undoing his belt.

“Wait” he gasped, breaking apart from you. Your face was flushed, grabbing his face and kissing him again. You continued to undo his belt. He picked you up again, making you wrap your arms around his neck. He carried you out of the ball room, stopping on the wall outside to make out. He continued walking, stopping periodically to make out on walls.

You finally made it to his room. He dropped you onto the bed, crawling between your legs as you sat back in bed breathlessly. You looked at him, his neck covered in lips stick kiss marks.

He planted his lips on yours once more, allowing you to undo his neck tie and star unbuttoning his shirt. You pushed his shirt back as his pulled you further underneath him, towering over you. He trailed kisses down your jaw before attaching to your neck, marking you as his.

He laced an arm under your thigh, grinding into you as he did, pulling a sinful moan of out your body. He left hickies on every square inch of your neck, deep purples and blues starting to surface. He pulled the hem of your dress up and teased your clit through the sheer thong you wore. Gaining groans from deep within you, you looked at him, a smirk plastered on his face at the face that he is destroying a self-proclaimed demon who feared no man.

“Not, so big now huh, (y/n)?” He teased playfully. You turned your head from embarrassment. He snuck his hand into your panties, sinking two fingers into your core. A guttural moan of satisfaction left your tiny body. “You’re nothing more than a girl, (y/n).” He whispered in your ear. “But, you’re my girl now” Admittedly, you were wrapped around his fingers and soaking the palm of his hand.

You were his, his because of his mesmerizing movements within you, his because of his face, his because you decided you were.

“I’m yours because I choose to be” you say aloud. “Because i choose to be”

“Is that what you need to tell yourself, beautiful? To fulfill your ego?” He taunted. “I’ll admit, you heartlessly killed a man, but that man truly was nothing. Not a real man. You have a real man, at the mercy of a real man” His fingers left you earning a dissatisfied cry. He pulled your dress over your head, revealing scars. His cockiness leaving him in an instant. “Who did this to you?” He whispered.

“A man.” You said quietly, the heat of the moment overriding any emotions you could feel from those horrible memories.

“I’m going to kill him” he growled, he undid his slacks, throwing them on the floor along with every article of clothing worn by both of you. He searched your face as his cock laid before your entrance, almost as if it was kneeling before you. Men seemed to be at your mercy, he was starting to realize, you were a bigger threat than he perceived you to be.

“I want to feel you” you say, barely audible over the heavy panting between the two of you. “I want it all” You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him into you. You hear him groan in pleasure as you gasped at the feeling.

“Fuck, for being so evil, you feel like heaven” he groaned into your ear as he began thrusting inside of you. Everything in him wanted to please you, he forgot his own needs, he only cared for yours. He kept a steady pace, keeping his orgasm at bay. Your pretty moans and cries a symphony to him ears.

“Faster” you gripped onto him. He fucked you, reaching to the depths of your cold and hardened heart, like he was trying to reach a real part of you. You retuned the favor by marking his back with scratches, surely blood would be trickling from them when he stood up later. He didn’t mind it, anything done to him from you is a mark of an angel. He needed it. Your sinful moans grew louder as you neared your peak. He willed himself not to cum, forcing his hips to stutter as he bore his cock inside of you over and over again.

“Oh my god” you whimpered, almost at the edge of your climax.

“Cum on my cock, please” he begged in a breathy voice. “I need it, please (y/n)” he felt your pussy tightening around him, the feeling almost unbearable for him. He could only hold himself for cumming for a little longer, not being able to promise himself he wouldn’t cum inside of you.

“In Ho” you breathed. “I’m going to cum” you cry loudly. Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking around him as he slammed into you.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock” he insisted.

“Fuck” you screamed as you came, dragging your nails down his back mercilessly. He rode your waves of pleasure as he felt his release breaking lose. “Cum in me, cum in me In Ho” you begged. Your begging sent him flying over the edge, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting down on your shoulder as he did so. Cumming deeply in your pussy, cursing your name as he did. He thrusted into you a few more times before pulling out and collapsing beside you.

“Now, answer me. Who did this to you?” He asked.

“It was a man named-“

Taglist

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[deans-baby-momma]

Chapter 1

Summary: When Jensen admits to going home with someone else, will his and Y/N's marriage survive?

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, language

Y/N hears the door open and shut as she is pulling the chicken out of the oven. She hurriedly places the pan on the stove top because her husband always comes straight to her and hugs her tight.

But today, there is no hug. He never makes an appearance in the kitchen.

Walking into the front room, she sees his bag sitting beside the sofa and his shoes sitting next to the door. She knows he was back from his weekend trip, a convention in Seattle with his co-star, Jared.

Searching their home for Jensen, Y/N finally finds him in the bathroom, sitting on the floor with his back against the shower.

He reeks of alcohol and smoke, the telltale stench of a bar. She isn't surprised because she knows how he and Jared, along with other castmates, like to end a convention weekend with a few drinks

What surprises her are the red eyes and tears sliding down his face. Jensen looks as if his best friend has died and Y/N rushes to comfort him.

Instead, he jerks away from her and refuses to look at her.

“Jens? Honey, what's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” is his reply. Y/N is more confused than ever.

“Baby, what happened?”

Jensen doesn't answer, he just sobs even harder and seems to be slinking into himself.

Y/N sits there on the floor with her husband, watching him cry and mumble, making out words like ‘hate’, ‘leave me’, and ‘idiot’.

She cannot figure out what he is talking about but doesn't want to agitate him by asking. She knows when he is ready to talk, he will.

Finally after a small amount of time, Jensen looks at her and tries to smile but it doesn't get further than his lips.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says sadly.

“I love you too. What-”

“I went home with someone else.”

And Y/N's world stops.

His words keep repeating over and over in her head. ‘I went home with someone else.’

Six words. Six little words that bring her life to a crashing halt. Ten years of marriage, two miscarriages and now her loving husband is admitting to cheating on her.

Once Y/N gathers herself, she stands and leaves the bathroom; leaving the cheating son of a bitch there on the floor.

She walks into the kitchen, seeing the table sat and the food on the counter ready to be eaten. With a scream she swipes the dishes off the table, the silverware clanking against the tile and the porcelain splintering into pieces.

She steps over to the stove and grabs the pan of chicken and chucks it against the wall; the burns on her fingers not even acknowledged.

The tears in her eyes blur her vision but don't deter her as she continues on through the house. Their wedding picture on the living room wall? A vase full of flowers and water shatters the glass and drips down the image.

“Baby, please?” Jensen pleads, now standing at the entrance to the hallway.

Y/N turns to him, his red, swollen eyes and mournful face does nothing but enrage her.

“Get the fuck out!” She screams, pointing to the door.

“Let me exp-” he begins.

A menacing cackle leaves her lips. “Explain what? What are you going to explain? You going to tell me how good she felt? How exhilarating it was to have your dick buried in someone who isn't me?”

“I did - we d-”

“I don't care. Get out!”

Jensen's face falls and his shoulders slump as he mumbles, “Can I at least pack a bag?”

“I don't give a fuck what you do,” Y/N responds. “Just get out of my sight.”

As soon as the door closes after her husband's departure, Y/N falls to the floor, letting her sobs take over.

FIVE WEEKS LATER

Y/N pushes the cart through the store aimlessly as she once again listens to another person tell her how desolate and heartbroken her estranged husband is.

This time, it is Mack, Jensen’s sister, on the phone.

“Mack, how do you think I feel? After all we've been through. The loss we both suffered. There's just no coming back from this.”

She continues to listen to her sister-in-law as she selects a box of pasta and then heads to the sauces.

“Listen Mack…and please relay this to Donna. I'm sorry it turned out this way. I really am. But Jens made his bed, now he has to lie in it. At least it's been kept under wraps and I'm not having to read about it or hear about it on social media.

“Maybe he and his new girlfriend will be happy,” she sighs as she hangs up.

Not only has his family contacted her in these last five weeks, but so has his friends, Rob, Rich, even Briana had messaged her, begging her to give Jensen a chance to explain.

But she can't. She doesn't want to listen to how he'd fallen out of love with her, and he was just staying out of respect. How he'd met whoever she was and now wanted to have a life with this other woman.

It would kill Y/N. She is sure of it.

But she'd be wrong. No, she feels like dying when, while in the checkout line, the headline on a magazine catches her eye.

‘I'm pregnant with Jensen Ackles’ baby’

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Tagging my FOEVERS: @spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam   @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @@lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70 @nancymcl

If you would like to be tagged, please interact with me in some way: message, ask, comment.

[claritys-silly-things]

I forgot I ever wrote this so imma give it to you now outsiders tumblr. It’s unfinished and also I haven’t read through it so whatever typos are there are just there ig

Ponyboy stumbled through the front door of his house and collapsed on the couch. Today had been busy.

It was the end of his freshman year, so there were lots of tests, and he had a track meet right after. Not to mention he had stayed up studying and barely ate anything because his anxiety over testing was too much for him to keep anything down.

Needless to say, Pony was exhausted. But he wasn’t able to rest just yet.

“Ponyboy, is that you?” he heard Darry call from the kitchen.

Pony groaned and stood up. “Yeah. Coming.”

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. “Whatcha need?”

Darry looked up from the vegetables he was cutting. “Some help with dinner would be nice.”

Pony looked at the ingredients Darry was using and came to a conclusion the older boy was making soup. He checked the potatoes in the pot and decided they were cooked enough and drained them.

They finished the dinner, mashing all the veggies and mixing them with milk and seasoning. Darry cut a few slices of bread and started to portion the soup into bowls. Ponyboy went to set the table.

As he was readjusting the napkins for the fifth time, Pony heard the front door open and shut. He watched as Johnny walked inside and peeked around the corner to see if anyone was in there. Then he saw Ponyboy and walked over.

“Hey Pone,” he said. He sounded about as tired as Pony did.

“Hiya, Johnnycakes,” Ponyboy said, trying to wake himself up a bit now that Johnny was here. “You hungry?”

Johnny paused for a minute before nodding. Pony gestured to a chair and went to fetch more stuff to set his spot at the table.

As he walked into the kitchen, Pony said, “Johnny’s here,” in Darry’s general direction before grabbing more silverware and walking back out to the dining room.

“So,” Pony started as he placed down the spoon and fork he had grabbed on the table, “What brings you over this time?”

Johnny looked up at Ponyboy. “Same shit as always, man…”

Pony sighed sadly and walked behind Johnny. He grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“It’s okay Johnnycakes. One day you’ll leave those wretched people and we can go live out in the country or something.”

Pony leaned forward and turned his head to look at Johnny. “Won’t we?”

Johnny chuckled. Pony always got more cheery and loose when he was tired. He placed his hand over one of Pony’s.

“We will.”

Pony smiled and stood up straight again, shaking Johnny’s shoulders as he spoke.

“Yesss, it’ll be so fun. The scenery will be so nice, and we could put flowers on the windowsill—“

“And you could read us stories, and outside we could have a garden! We just wouldn’t work too hard!”

Pony laughed as Johnny joined in his fantasizing. He leaned forward and hugged Johnny’s shoulders from behind, sighing.

“It’s real nice talking to you, Johnny…”

Pony was so relaxed he could fall asleep standing up at that point. And he just might’ve if Sodapop hadn’t walked in.

“What, uh- Whatcha doin’ there, Pone?” Soda said, voice faltering. He was trying not to laugh.

Pony shot up so fast he almost fell over.

“Whaddya mean?” He shook his head and sat down in the chair next to Johnny.

“Y’know what? Never mind,” Sodapop said, taking the seat across from Pony. “So. What’s for dinner.”

“We made cream of potato soup and there’s some bread to eat with it,” Pony said, telling both Soda and Johny because he realized he never told Johnny what they were gonna eat.

“Oh, hell yes.”

Pony snorted at Soda’s response before turning back to Johnny.

“You staying the night, Johnny?”

Johnny thought for a moment. It was nice enough weather that he could stay in the lot, but honestly, he didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I’ll stay tonight. I can sleep on the couch,” he decided.

“Naw, I’ll just sleep in the spare room or somewhere else,” Soda replied.

Pony raised an eyebrow at how quickly Soda decided.

“So quick to get away from me, huh brother?” Ponyboy bantered.

“And what if I am,” Soda said back jokingly. They met each other’s eyes with mischievous grins for a second before Soda broke eye contact and shrugged.

“But actually, I don’t want Johnny sleeping on the couch, cause he’s obviously tired,” Soda gestured towards Johnny’s disheveled look, “And I know he’s more comfy sleeping around you.”

Ponyboy reddened slightly at that. “O-okay.”

Thankfully, Darry started bringing out servings to everyone and they dug in. Well, Pony prayed first, a habit he’d gotten from his parents, and then he ate. After basically not eating all day, the soup tasted like the most delectable thing ever.

Darry sat down at the head of the table and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before asking, “So how was everyone’s day?”

Soda was the first one to speak up. “It was good. Some girls came into the DX today. There was this one girl named Sandy, she seemed really nice.”

Pony looked over to see Soda a little dreamy-eyed and sighing. He scoffed.

“What? Can’t a guy have a little crush on a chick every now and then?”

Pony snickered and rolled his eyes. Darry was stifling a laugh as well.

“What about you Ponyboy? How was your day?” Darry cut in before they went on any longer and it turned into a back and forth.

“Eh, it was fine. Tiring as hell, but there wasn’t really anything too special about the day I guess,” Pony answered between bites of food.

Darry hummed in acknowledgment. There was a silence while everyone ate a few bites of food. Finally, after a minute or two of quiet, Darry asked Johnny, “What about you, Johnny? Anything noteworthy happen today?”

Johnny looked up from his bowl, spoon halfway to his mouth. He put it down and thought for a minute.

“Um…I basically did the same things as Ponyboy. Lots of tests and stuff. I’m sure they were different because uh…we’re in different grades. I don’t think I did too well. I just hope I don’t get held back…”

Johnny paused for a moment and everyone waited.

“I- uh… Got kicked out of the house again. Same ol’ same ol’ I guess.”

Everyone looked at Johnny with empathy and a bit of pity. Johnny didn’t like being pitied, but it happened anyways.

Darry spoke first. “One of these days we’ll get you out of those monsters’ care and you can come stay here or wherever else and never have to deal with them again.”

Johnny nodded. He heard a similar sentiment pretty much daily from different members of the gang and just accepted it every time. He knew them meant it, and it felt nice to know someone cared.

Suddenly he felt Pony squeeze his hand from under the table.

“Don’t forget you can still stay here now. You don’t gotta be scared that you can’t,” Ponyboy said, looking at Johnny.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Johnny said with a small smile.

Eventually, everyone has finished their dinner and started to clean up. Once the table was cleared and he dishes were washed, everyone started to get ready for bed.

Ponyboy lent Johnny some pajamas and they sat together on Pony and Soda’s bed. Darry came in to say goodnight to the two.

“Don’t stay up too late, boys.”

“You really don’t gotta worry, Dar,” Pony laughed, already getting under the covers. “I am spent.”

Darry chuckled and turned the light off. “Goodnight, Pony. Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Goodanight, Darry,” they both said before Darry shut the door.

Within a few minutes, Pony was already asleep. He could be the heaviest sleeper in the world. He’s out in seconds and will stay out until the person he’s sleeping with leaves.

Johnny was the complete opposite, a result of the household he grew up in. The slightest noise would wake Johnny up, and it was hard for him to get to sleep in the first place. And he seemed to be having that problem right now.

[ghostheartfelt]

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for  the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure 

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another. 

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives. 

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours. 

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest. 

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat. 

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.” 

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost 

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart. 

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver. 

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes. 

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours. 

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.  

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this. 

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home. 

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat. 

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.” 

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days. 

All you do is work, eat, and sleep. 

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably. 

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell. 

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you. 

“There’s someone else.”  His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off. 

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog. 

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up. 

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately. 

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now. 

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face. 

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you. 

You just wanted him home. 

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore. 

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind. 

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away. 

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest. 

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door. 

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water. 

She’s showering. 

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside. 

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice. 

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs. 

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation. 

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine. 

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table. 

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly. 

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs. 

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs. 

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice. 

“Does wh–” 

“Does she know you are here, Simon.” 

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern. 

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed. 

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains. 

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance. 

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…” 

“Please…never do that again.” 

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs. 

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent. 

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt. 

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed. 

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud. 

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?” 

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you. 

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you. 

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger. 

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck. 

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. 

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.” 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists. 

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach. 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…” 

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.” 

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him 

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.” 

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you. 

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.” 

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs. 

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him. 

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…” 

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind. 

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?” 

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.” 

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge. 

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted. 

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…” 

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion. 

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.  

[alrightieaphroditie]

harder | j.m  series masterlist!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5.7k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! v angsty at first, mentions of death and overall sad topics... then we go into a lil bit of kissing, some dirty talk if you squint, teasing, pet names (baby, sugar), titty play, some praise, probably poorly written smut lmao an *:·ﾟit's been a hot second since i tried writing smut and damn am i insecure about it lmaoo this took longer than anticpated too because i sadly lost half of it almost immediately after writing it... so yeah. feedback is hella appreciated on this, and it isn't quite proofread so if you catch something please let me know!! i enjoyed writing this (like a lot) so i really hope you all enjoy reading this! <3 

synopsis *:·ﾟever since the dinner at your place, joel and ellie have fit themselves into your life seamlessly. when joel gets back from a hunting trip, he comes over and shows you some new tricks. (18+!)

over the course of a couple months, joel and ellie had fit themselves into your life like puzzle pieces. 

the pair would come over to your house once a week every week after that first dinner together, and sometimes you would cook, sometimes you'd grab some food to go from the tipsy bison. they would help you set the table, ellie nagging joel most nights about how slow he was moving to put the silverware around the table. you would all eat, then ellie would sneak into the living room while you and joel cleaned together. and then the three of you would sit around your coffee table, playing board games or cards. or you'd go to see the movie playing in town, or you'd go for a walk around the neighborhood. 

these nights with them quickly became your favorite moments of the week. you had formed a close bond with ellie, and the more time you spent with joel, the harder you fell for him. most nights ellie would fall asleep in the guest room you had set up for her, and you and joel would spend hours talking together out on the porch like you did that first night. 

sometimes you'd talk about nothing major. he'd comment on how the greenhouses were doing, which was where you helped the community out the most, and it would get you talking about all the vegetables and flowers you were trying to grow. or you'd ask how his patrol shift went, and he'd complain to you about his partner. it was small talk, but with someone like joel, it meant a lot to you that he was willing to simply sit on your wooden bench beside you and listen. 

sometimes, after a long week, you'd make joel a glass of whiskey (which you had started to keep around simply for the man. how he didn't know how much you crushed on him was beyond you. maybe it was his age.) and you'd talk about the harder things. your time spent in the bunker your family built. how your best friend was murdered by a group of hunters after they had kept you captive for weeks. how they used you. how you managed to kill them all while they slept because they got lazy and assumed you were too weak. 

joel had had a hard time listening to it, but he insisted that he wanted to hear about your past. the guilt he felt was indescribable. he wasn't the one to keep you captive, to use you, but with his past as a hunter he couldn't help but feel like he played a role in your pain. he had spent a lot of time repressing his emotions regarding that aspect of his life, but you encouraged him to talk about it. to feel his emotions. you told him over and over again that you didn't blame him, weren't scared of him. didn't judge him. 

it was hard for him to hear, to believe, but your consistency helped him more than he would ever admit. he was more welcome in jackson now than he was when he first arrived, mostly thanks to you, but he still felt like an outsider. like people were just waiting for a pin to drop and for him to reduce back into the monster of a man they claimed him to be. he was tired of trying to prove to everyone that he was simply just a man who survived the only way he knew how to. but with you? he didn't feel the need to apologize for who he was. he could settle with you, and that was something he hadn't felt in a long time. 

on the simpler nights, joel would talk about his life before the outbreak, how he and tommy worked in contracting and how he missed doing things with his hands. he'd talk about always being busy, always doing something, when the world turned. about how he was skeptical of the community when he and ellie first stumbled upon it because for once, for the first time since the outbreak, he wasn't constantly having to look over his shoulder for something bad. 

on the harder nights, the ones where joel felt like he needed more than one glass of liquor, he confided in you about sarah. about tess. about how his relationship with tommy had changed and he didn't know what he needed to do to fix it anymore. about his insecurities with ellie, how he didn't trust his mind anymore to make the right decisions when it came to her because he was too attached. 

he told you all of the things he swore he would never talk about again, and you simply sat there, listening, sharing his burden. the way your hand would rest gently on his arm while he talked, squeezing it every once in a while, to encourage him to go on, it provided him with a strength he didn't know he needed. 

joel didn't know this, but that night when he first told you about sarah and the events that happened on his birthday, after he and ellie had left, you spent the rest of your night crying in your bed. crying for joel, for the loss he had experienced. for how the world had turned and how he had to manage the loss of his own world on top of it. for how he was never properly able to grieve her death. 

you were beginning to see a side of joel you don't think anyone has seen in a long time. you were also starting to understand why joel miller was the man he is today. after learning about his past, his experiences, and his trauma, you recognized and could empathize why he felt the need to guard his heart the way he has been. it was a testament to his strength, how he could keep going while carrying all of that inside of him, and you admired the hell out him. 

and somehow, you had worked your way into his heart, through his guards. and joel may not have known it yet, but you were there to stay, and you would be for as long as he let you. 

you were constantly thinking about the man, your days spent replaying your conversations in your mind and getting giddy just remembering them. you honestly were a bit concerned, considering you've never felt this way about anyone before. you wanted to ask maria about it, but then she'd pester you into telling her who you were crushing over, and you didn't think it would go over too well considering joel was twice your age and, well, him. 

so, you kept it to yourself, letting your mind fantasize about what it would be like to actually be with joel, physically, romantically, all of it. 

you hadn't seen joel in a couple of days, as he was one of the men selected to go hunt. he wouldn't be back for a few more days, either, and you hated to admit it but you missed him. and you wondered if he missed you too. if he ever thought about you while he was away. he was so hard to read, even now, and sometimes you thought about just grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him while you unloaded all of your feelings onto him. 

but if there was one thing you knew about joel miller, it was that he would absolutely hate that. so... you kept it to yourself. 

you had just gotten home after spending all day in the greenhouse with ellie. maria had you showing her the vegetation that the community was working on, showing her the ins and outs of gardening and how to properly pick the fruit that was growing. she loved it, of course, and on her breaks, she spent most of the time sketching the different fruits and flowers in the little sketchbook joel had found for her. 

it was a good day, but a busy one, and you were exhausted. the sun was already starting to set, and you wanted to cuddle up on your couch with one of the romance novels your friend had brought you with a cup of tea. you were still dressed in your work outfit - a pair of olive-green linen pants and simple black cotton t-shirt - and you were already planning on stepping into your pajamas early when a knock on your door startled you. 

a glance through the little peephole on your door had your heart racing. joel was standing on your porch, one of his arms behind his back as he glanced around. you could see the muscles in his arm bulge against the faded red t-shirt he was wearing, and that sight alone could've fueled your fantasies for a month straight. 

a grin was plastered on your face as you unlocked the front door, and his dark eyes found yours easily through the screen door. "joel miller, as i live and breathe. what are you doin' here?" you adopted an exaggerated southern accent, something you and ellie started doing to poke fun of joel for his texan roots. he kept telling you guys it wasn't funny, but you could always see a small smile on his lips every time you did it.

even now as he rolled his eyes at you, you could see the edges of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, and fuck but you loved it. "you think you're so damn funny with that, don't you?" he asked, his gaze trailing down your body so quickly you almost missed it. but you didn't, and now your face was burning bright red. 

"ellie would agree with me and you know it, mister." you argued, pushing the screen door open for joel to come in. he didn't move, though, keeping his arm behind his back with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. you crossed your arms over your chest. "but for real, i thought you were gonna be out a few more days with everyone else?" it was rare that the hunting party would come back early, but not uncommon either. 

"didn't have much luck in the area we were in, so we figured we'd come back and regroup before leaving again. i found somethin' though," he trailed off, a full smile encompassing his mouth now. something you had learned about joel in your months of studying him was that gift giving was a huge thing for him. he mainly brought stuff back for ellie, but you've noticed lately that he had been finding little things here and there for you too. you wondered what that meant.

you could just barely make out the edges of something behind his legs, but you couldn't quit tell what it was. your arms slipped from your chest, your hands moving out and making a grabby motion. "you want me to close my eyes?" you teased, making a point of squinting your eyes so that you could see just a sliver of joel between them. he shook his head at you, grumbling something about how weird you were becoming, and he moved his arm from back behind his body. 

"joel!" you gasped; mouth dropped in awe as he presented a perfectly intact guitar. "this is amazing! you do know what this means now, right?" his eyebrow rose as he took in the sight of you gently holding the instrument. he had been pretty proud of the find, taking care to clean off the vines and dirt that had dusted itself around the guitar. considering you had been begging him for lessons for weeks since ellie mentioned he could play the guitar; he knew what was coming. 

he wanted to tease you about it, regardless. 

"if i hear the words 'guitar lessons' come out of your mouth, 'm leavin'." he threatened, crossing his arms across his chest. his worn t-shirt strained against his muscles and tightened around his chest, and it took everything in you not to stare. his tone was mean, as mean as he could get with you, but then he did something you weren't expecting - he winked at you. 

you squealed internally. 

“that’s not fair and you know it, miller. we literally have a guitar now! what else are we gonna do with it?” you complained playfully, your voice light. you started backing up into the house, joel’s arm reaching out to catch the screen door before it slammed shut in his face. he followed you in, making sure to close both doors and kicking his work boots off next to the small rug you had inside. 

you were still marveling over the instrument, turning it over in your hands while taking it in. from what you remembered, this was a pretty standard guitar. the wood was a warm brown, and it had all six silvery strings connected still. you sat down on the carpet in front of your couch, balancing the guitar on your thighs. you were aware of joel as he entered the living room behind you, settling into one of the chairs you had on the other side of the room.

he was quiet as he watched you get comfortable with the guitar, his brown eyes sweeping over your figure. your head was bent to the side, your hair falling in slight waves across your face as you studied where to put your fingers on the neck. he could see you biting your bottom lip as you concentrated, and he had to stealthy adjust himself in the chair as he watched. god, he thought. you looked so beautiful. 

his thoughts were interrupted by the loudest, most out of tune noise coming from you and the guitar. he had to fight off the urge to cover his ears, but then he wouldn’t have heard the sound of your laughter that followed quickly after, and that was something he never wanted to miss. his eyes were already on yours when you lifted your head to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face. “clearly i don’t know what i’m doing. your turn?” 

he hadn’t played the guitar in years, but he would be lying if he said his fingers weren’t itching to at least hold it again. he rubbed his palms against his jean clad thighs before standing up and taking the guitar from your outstretched hands. for some reason, he was nervous to play in front of you. he wanted it to be good, to be perfect, but with years of not practicing and with no idea how maintained this guitar was, he really couldn’t do much besides try. 

joel tested the guitar in his grip, absentmindedly strumming his fingers quietly while he fiddled with the pegs to tune it. and you sat there on your carpet, stars in your eyes as you watched his shoulders relax ever so slightly. you saw his foot tapping against the floor as he strummed, and it wasn’t a song you recognized but it immediately became your new favorite. 

he played for a lot longer than you anticipated, his eyes closing softly as his fingers worked the neck of the guitar. you wished in this moment that you had a camera, some way to capture the moment. you’ve never seen joel so relaxed, so in his element. his foot, tapping away against your floor. his hands, holding the guitar with a level of gentleness you weren’t expecting. his head, slowly bobbing along to the chords he played. the sunset was filtering through your window, casting him in an orangish glow. 

and your heart ached, thinking about the man before you who once dreamed of making a career out this. he was talented enough, that was for damn sure. you could easily imagine him somewhere up on a stage, holding the same guitar and preforming the same exact way. you wondered if he’d ever sing in front of you, but you didn’t want to push your luck. this alone was enough for you. 

the music eventually drifted away softly, joel’s fingers coming to rest as he strummed it one last time. he cleared out his throat when he finished, looking a little shy, but you weren’t having it. “joel, that was amazing.” you gushed, fighting the urge to clap for him. 

“s’nothin’ special,” he muttered, but you swore the tips of his cheeks turned a shade of light pink from the compliment. 

“that’s bullshit and you know it,” your tone was argumentative back, not wanting him to diminish his talents. you sat forward on your knees, clasping your hands together. “will you please teach me something, joel? anything? one singular basic chord?” you begged, giving him your biggest eyes and playful pout. 

“you’re almost worse than ellie is when she wants something.” he teased, rolling his head back on his neck before standing up to come sit behind you on the couch. his legs spread out, and from the corner of your eye you could see his thighs strain against his jeans. oh lord. 

“i’m taking that as a compliment. that girl is so headstrong and i love it,” you shuffled back so that your back was pressed against the couch, crossing your legs over the other again so that you could rest the guitar against your lap. you gave an experimental strum, and since joel worked on tuning it, the noise that came out was much more pleasant than your attempt earlier. 

“course you would,” the man behind you muttered, and you shot him a grin over your shoulder before adjusting your hands on the instrument. he leaned forward slightly, keeping an eye on your hands and not the way your shirt dipped down the front of your chest slightly. your skin was more exposed, and he could see a constellation of freckles littering your skin. fuck, but he wanted to kiss every single one of them. 

with a sigh, joel began telling you where to place your fingers along the neck for specific chords. he was patient, watching carefully as you figured them out with his help. every time you correctly struck the right chord, it made him grin. he liked seeing you so excited over this mundane activity. the way you were always so enthusiastic, so bright, it just drew him in like a moth to the light. he couldn’t help it. 

you had shifted away from the couch slightly, your back hunched over the instrument as you did you best to play it. you had picked up the simple chords pretty easily, but you were struggling with getting your finger placement correct on the last one joel gave you. joel kept telling you how easy this one was, too, which had started to frustrate you. the man’s hands were easily twice the size of your own, of course he would think it was easy. and you said as much to joel, too, who only chuckled in response. 

“know you can do it, sugar.” he encouraged quietly, scooting over on the couch so that his legs almost bracketed your body. he leaned forward, pulling your upper body back a bit from its slouch as he moved to help you. “keep your arm like this, and then stretch this finger as much as you can. you can move your wrist a little, too.” his rough hands were soon on top of your own, his applying a little more pressure so that he could guide your finger to the correct position. 

finally, you were able to hit the chord right, and you cheered for yourself as you strummed it a couple more times. joel’s hand had slide up your arm gently, resting on the top of your left shoulder while you played. he was still crouched over slightly, but when you turned your head to look at him, you were shocked with how close his face was to yours. 

now that you were facing him though, you could revel in the way his breath was hitting the spot on your neck just right, how it sent goosebumps down your arms and a shiver to your spine. if you tilted your head slightly, you’d bump his nose with your own. your eyes jumped to his, your hand gripping the neck of the guitar so tightly you worried that you were going to snap it. “joel,” you whispered, soft breaths parting from your lips as it opened slightly. 

his dark eyes met yours, and that was it.

you weren’t too sure who moved first. if it was you, dropping the guitar from your lap while you twisted up onto your knees in front of him. if it was him, the hand on your shoulder moving to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing it slightly as he guided you up to his mouth. joel’s thumb caressed your skin softly, and you felt yourself go weak in the knees.  

his mouth slanted across yours, and the feeling of his stubble scratching against your face made you whimper into his mouth softly. his hand tightened around your neck, using the leverage to pull you up from your knees, while his other hand guided you by your hip to straddle one of his legs on the couch. your hands went from his shoulders to his hair to cupping the sides of his face. you could feel him grinning against your lips.

you’ve been kissed before but kissing joel was an entirely new experience. you have never done something that felt so right, so good. you never wanted this to stop. 

your legs adjusted your weight on his thigh, and you felt joel’s grip on your waist tighten as he pressed you down harder. you could feel the rough denim through your thin linen pants, and when joel moved his hand forward, your hip followed in his grip as he rocked you against his thigh. this was a new experience, however. the feeling of his solid thigh pressed against your core, and you suddenly felt much, much hotter. 

“joel,” you whispered again, though it came out in more of a whimper against his lips. his hand rocked you against him again, and yours slid to hold his shoulders and you tested the movement yourself, dragging your hips up his thigh and then back down. another whimper emitted from your lips, and you had half a mind to be embarrassed about the noise, but you were too caught up in the feeling. 

“i know, baby.” his voice was rough against your mouth, and he lowered his lips against yours again, this time angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. joel tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you gasp softly at the hint of pain before his tongue covered the spot. he took the opportunity of your open mouth to move his tongue in against yours, and you basically crumpled in his lap at how demanding he was as he kissed you. 

your hips had started to steadily move against his thigh on your own, but his big, rough hand was still resting on your hip, his fingers digging little half-moon bruises into your skin as he helped you press a little harder. joel gave your throat one last little squeeze before he moved to the hem of your t-shirt, his fingers slipping underneath ever so slightly. you could feel the calluses on his hands as he trailed them across your stomach lightly, and your breath caught in your throat as he brushed his thumb over the material of your bra, right where your nipple would be. 

you were so overwhelmed by everything joel - his taste, his touch, his smell. you didn’t want to, but you felt yourself struggling to catch a breath, so you pulled away from his mouth slightly, brushing his nose with yours gently. he could feel the little pants coming from your mouth as you exhaled, could hear the smallest of whimpers riding along those exhales as well. everything about you in this moment was working for him, so well that he was trying to think of something ridiculous to stop himself from coming in his damn jeans like a teenager. 

“god, sugar,” he said lowly, trailing his nose across your jaw and down your neck before settling his lips on the base of your throat. the feeling made you giggle softly, but it quickly turned into a louder moan as he started to suck on your skin. “you’re ridin’ my thigh so well, huh?” the compliment had you blushing even more than before. 

you never would’ve imagined that joel, quiet, stoic, joel, would be talking to you like one of the heroes in your romance novels. it was better than anything you could have ever thought of. 

“it feels so good, joel,” you whined, sliding your hand from his shoulder to cup the back of his head. you let your fingers dig into his skin, pulling on the small strands of his hair lightly as you bucked your hips against him. he let out a low groan against your neck, his fingers underneath your shirt pinching the spot his thumb just brushed against. 

he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “fuck, i knew you’d be too good to resist. you look so pretty, takin’ what you want from me.” he nipped at your neck, grinning against your skin as you cried out. letting go of your hip, he moved his hand under your shirt with the other one, raising it just enough so that he could see the black bra you were wearing. “can i move this down?” he asked so politely, pressing a small kiss against the skin he just bit.

considering the position you were in, the pleasure this man was making you feel by simply kissing you, you were inclined to let him do whatever he so pleased with you. all you could do was nod your head, give him a small “mhm,” as your eyes started to flutter shut from the tingling sensation happening low in your stomach. 

you heard joel give you a quiet “thank you, baby,” before his hands tugged down the front of your bra. he didn’t bother pulling your shirt off, he didn’t bother taking the bra off entirely. instead, he managed to pull them low enough to have your tits spill over the top, and he bit back a groan before he lowered his mouth to take one of your nipples into his mouth. 

the feeling of his warm mouth against your sensitive skin had you arching your back, pressing your front closer against joel. he slid one of his hands to your lower back, his skin rough against yours, as he encouraged you to move your hips against him. your hand in his hair gripped tightly, practically holding joel against your chest as he nipped and sucked. 

your inner thighs were starting to shake from the movements, and his name was leaving your mouth like a prayer. it only encouraged him more, and he started to softly bounce his leg while you moved against it, giving you even more friction. you felt the heat from your stomach pool to your center, and you weren’t even able to form a coherent thought anymore. you couldn’t help your eyes from squeezing shut, couldn’t help your mouth from falling open, couldn’t help the borderline pornographic moans that emitted from your lips. 

“that’s it, sugar. gonna make yourself cum against my thigh, huh?” joel asked, pulling away from your chest as he watched you with hooded eyes. you were completely lost in the pleasure, could feel yourself soak through your panties with how wet you were becoming. you had never cum like this before, but god this would definitely not be the last time. that was a sentiment that you both had shared. 

“fuck, joel,” you squeaked out, increasing your hips movements against his thigh. his hand on your back gave you support, and he pinched your nipples roughly once more before he gripped your throat and brought your mouth back against his. this kiss was harder, messier, and more urgent than the kiss before. your teeth bumped against his, you felt your lips getting wet with spit, and fuck but you loved it. joel was usually so in control, so calm, and seeing him become so rushed, so frantic, it nearly pushed you to your orgasm alone. 

the thing that did it for you, though, was joel pulling away slightly, your noses brushing together as he offered you quiet words of encouragement. “you’re doing such a good job, just like that, baby. look at you, makin’ a mess on my thigh.” his breath invaded your space, making you gasp as you fought to get air as his hand tightened around your neck. he kissed you once more, just a gentle press of his lips against yours, and you lost it. 

your body curled in on itself as you came, white hot heat flooding your senses as you fell into joel’s chest with a loud cry. you were gripping him tightly, anchoring yourself to him as your body trembled. he held you tightly, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead and rubbing his hand up and down your back. he was grinning the entire time, his ego raising indefinitely at the fact that he had been able to make you feel this good. 

your face was pressed in the crook of his neck, and you were surprised to find genuine tears lingering in your eyes. that knowledge had you giggling, and you must have been delirious because you couldn’t stop it from happening. joel tilted his head back. “what the hell are you laughin’ at right now?” he asked, incredulously. he had never had a girl laugh after being with him. 

you could hear the slight panic in his voice, which made you laugh even more, but you sat back. “you made me cry,” you admitted to him, running your fingers underneath your eyes to wipe away the stray tears. joel let out a snort, which had you laughing once again. his thumbs moved to replace your fingers, gently moving across your skin until the wet was cleared up. he leaned up, placing a kiss gently on your forehead. “you okay?” he asked, softly caressing your skin with his hands. 

you bit down on your bottom lip, feeling more than okay, and you gave him a quick nod before taking his mouth with yours. the kiss was soft, but you were well intended to give joel the same amount of affection. your hand had just trailed down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his jeans, when you heard your front door open. 

“hello?” ellie’s voice rang out from the entryway, forcing you and joel apart. you had never moved so quickly, swinging your leg off of his thigh and fixing your top to cover your chest once again. you were still kneeling on the couch near joel when ellie stomped her way into the living room, giving the two of you a weird look. “why are you guys sitting so close to each other?” 

“she had somethin’ in her eye,” joel’s response was so quick, it almost made you snort. “what the hell are you doin’ here, kid? and didn’t i teach you how to knock first?” his irritation was palpable, which you found funny. poor guy was probably seconds away from coming in his pants. 

“geez, sorry. i saw that some of the other guys were back early, and you weren’t home so i figured you’d be here.” she explained, holding her hands up in surrender. joel pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, trying to get his breathing under control. he had no right to be mad at ellie, and it wasn’t that he was actually mad… he was just trying not to embarrass himself in front of you. 

“why’d you figure that, els?” you asked, loving the fact that ellie knew joel well enough that he would come over here if he wasn’t at home first. even if you guys had just made out on your couch, you still liked the validation that joel maybe, possibly liked you back. 

“where else would he be? he literally never leaves the house unless it’s to come over here, and he hasn’t shut up about you since you first met.” she threw herself down in one of the chairs across the room from you, completely oblivious to the glare joel was shooting her way. 

“oh really?” your voice was teasing as you turned your head to joel, who easily fixated his glare on you. you wiggled on your knees slightly next to him, which caused his eyes to darken. 

“don’t you ‘oh, really?’ me like that. is this how it’s gonna be? the two of you gangin’ up on me from now on? because i don’t think i like it very much.” he slouched back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. 

“yes, you do.” you and ellie chirped back at the same time, giving each other a grin as joel shook his head. he muttered something under his breath before standing up, adjusting his jeans as he did. ellie hopped up from her chair, too, rubbing her hands on her stomach. “can we get something from the tipsy bison? i’m starving.” 

“sure, kid.” joel responded, ruffling her hair as she passed by him. she didn’t even bother to wave goodbye before she moved out the front door, leaving joel and you alone again. he glanced at the door until it was shut before turning back your way, placing his hand under your chin to lift your gaze up to him.

“we’ll talk about this later, yeah?” he asked, his brown eyes soft as they focused on your face. you simply nodded, finding yourself shifting up on your knees so that you could kiss him one more time. joel sighed as you did, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. he bid you a goodnight before he followed ellie out of your house. 

sinking back into the couch cushions, you couldn’t help but let yourself freak out for a moment. never in your wildest dreams did you anticipate your evening taking a turn like this, and you were looking forward to seeing joel again so that you could talk. hopefully, talking isn’t the only thing we do, you thought, the grin on your face wider than ever. 

after kissing joel miller, it was decided. you were falling harder and harder for that man, and you didn’t mind it a single bit. 

tag list *:·ﾟ@yyiikes @farintonorth @scarletsloveletter @miss-celestial-being @thatgingefromtheinternet @javicstories @marianita195 @feliciab1990

[transformers-spike]

Gdi, I messed up with my last ask! Sorry about that. Trying again. Delete the old one?

-Humanformer Megatron that can absolutely take getting kicked or kneed in the balls with nothing more than a grunt of pain. Unless your wearing steel-toed boots, you're not gonna make him crumple up.

-Absolutely knows how to kill a person with improvised weaponry, even silverware.

-I feel like he'd own a pair of brass knuckles? Or maybe just always carry a gun? Or both.

-I feel like he'd own armor... but Idk if he'd be a Renfaire guy. Might be too... mundane, for him. Idk.

-I'd love to hear your headcanons for Humanformers TFP Dreadwing, but for now: I feel like they spar a bit? I think Megatron would act more as a teacher to Dreadwing, since Megatron has so many other duties to attend to. (And because he IS getting older, now, and human bodies can't be as easily replaced as Cybertronian ones...) I'm not sure how good of a teacher Megs would be, but I could see him taking an interest.

-🍁

Listen Human Megatron being able to take a kick/knee to the balls is fucking hot. Like he's in so much pain, but he's not showing it.

I love your very very murderous human Megatron headcanons. He's such an amazing creature and I adore everything you've written about him dear god

When it comes to Human Dreadwing, I've been mostly thinking about it in the context of a Tell me it's alright to cry AU (and I sadly don't have the current energy to explain everything going on in my mind) but i'll just say this

Dreadwing has definitely killed for Megatron, for the glory of why the Decepticons started off in the first place, trying his hardest to ignore just how horribly corrupt it became over the years

I don't tend to meddle much with nationality when it comes to the Human AU, but I know for sure Dreadwing and his brother are at least partially Japanese.

He's got a beard, bushy (fashionably sharp) eyebrows and is in his 40s/50s. Also playing with the idea of him having moles or freckles around the same spots he has his biolights in canon.

Also (mildly shitposty but shush) - he's gotten so used to living alone he keeps forgoing to wear a shirt. So if he ever gets with someone... he forgets his mantits are just... out

[detta-pica]

Satoru’s workshop is separated from the front of the shop by an appropriately witchy bead curtain. The heavy wooden table on which he prepares charms is positioned strategically so that he can see the counter, the entrance, and most of the shelves through the wide doorway. He handles orders that have been piling up for a couple of days while Megumi deals with walk-ins. Shadow is a white bunny today, sitting so still on the counter that he looks like he might be taxidermied. They work in silence. Things have been a bit tense since Tsumiki’s reappearance. Satoru tried talking at first, which got them absolutely nowhere, so he figures it’s best to give Megumi some space. Satoru puts the finishing touches on a protection charm he’s working into a silverware set. It’s going to neutralise most allergens, while also helping with less serious ailments like reflux or indigestion. Shoko should be the one handling an order like this, but she’s had her hands full recently with minor injuries striking people seemingly at random. The few hours she spent in Satoru’s guest bedroom might be the only real sleep she’s gotten all week. Satoru gently deposits the silverware into a cut crystal bowl filled with mountain water and fresh herbs, wipes his hands dry, and joins Megumi up front just as the boy flips the sign by the door from open to closed. “You up for takeout, Megumi? I have a craving for burgers, personally.” “No, thank you.” Megumi collects his books--he likes to do his homework while the shop is quiet--into his bag, then picks up Shadow. “I’m not like you, Gojo-sensei. You don’t need to make sure I remember to eat.” Truly, Megumi is an old man in a kid’s body. This used to only be true sometimes, but since the beginning of Tsumiki’s hospital stay, Megumi has become even more responsible. He studies hard, never misses a shift at the shop, takes care of his and Tsumiki’s apartment, and has Shoko send him regular reports on his sister’s condition. He hasn’t beaten up a single punk in over a month. It’s concerning. “Can’t I spend time with my precious apprentice?” Satoru shakes his head sadly. “It’s like you don’t love me anymore.” “I’m here every day. You take up a solid eighty percent of my social life. What more do you want?” “That’s just sad, Megumi. You need friends your age.” Megumi puts his jacket on with aggressive efficiency. “I get together with Yaga-sensei’s apprentices every month. I meet every requirement we’ve agreed on, so please respect it when I take time for myself.” He stomps out of the shop, but closes the door gently. The lock snaps shut on its own.

Another sneak peek at the next present-time part of stsg witch AU. I'm slowly getting back into the rhythm of writing in this verse.

[mscresta]

Title: On the Train, Off the Rails

Haymitch x Effie.

Cw: drinking, alcohol, hunger games, mention of death.

———————————————

Ps: someone said they didn’t like when I did the bold and italic writing, because it made it harder too read so I didn’t do it with this one! Lmk if you like it better or worse!

The train rattled along the tracks, a sleek silver snake cutting through the District 12 landscape, dragging the weight of its cargo—Haymitch Abernathy, a bottle of whiskey, and the most annoying Capitol escort in history. The air inside the train car was almost too clean, too bright. Haymitch hated it. The stiff, pristine furniture. The polished silverware. The damn fancy food. Everything screamed Capitol excess, and he just wanted to disappear into the bottle in his hand.

The tributes—mostly trembling teenagers—had been introduced in the dining car, but he hadn’t bothered to stick around. He could hardly stand the sight of them, fresh-faced and scared, pretending they had hope when they didn’t even know what was coming. So, as usual, he did the only thing that could dull the pain: he got drunk.

Now, slouched in his room with the door locked, he kept the bottle close, taking another long swig. The familiar burn in his throat was the only thing keeping the chaos of his mind at bay. The walls of the compartment were as sterile as the rest of the train, the cold, immaculate bed a reminder that this place wasn’t meant for someone like him. He didn’t belong here. Not with people like Effie Trinket, who couldn’t see past her perfectly pressed dress and those ridiculous heels.

Effie. He couldn’t shake her. He thought he’d be rid of her once they were back on the train, but no—she always found a way to worm her way back into his life. He cursed under his breath, his fingers tightening around the bottle. He was just about to take another drink when—

Knock. Knock.

“Go away,” he slurred, not even bothering to lift his head.

Effie’s voice came through, sharp and unmistakable. “Haymitch Abernathy, if you think you can hide in there forever, you’re sadly mistaken!”

He leaned his head back against the window, staring out at the blur of landscape. “I wasn’t planning on hiding, darling. Just thought I’d get a little peace before you show up to ruin my buzz.”

“Too bad. You’re stuck with me.” She didn’t even wait for him to respond before the door swung open.

Haymitch didn’t look up as Effie entered, but he could feel her presence—the click of her heels, the rustling of her absurdly fluffy dress. He took another swig, savoring the burn, but mostly hoping she’d just get the hint and leave.

She didn’t.

Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, looking down at him with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “I cannot believe you’re doing this again. I told you before, you need to at least pretend to care about the tributes, or at least pretend to care about your job.”

“Ah, my job,” Haymitch scoffed, glancing up at her with a lazy smirk. “That’s rich coming from you. I don’t see you out there slaying any dragons. Just telling me how to pretend like I give a damn. Makes you sound so… noble.”

Effie’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a split second, Haymitch almost felt a flicker of guilt. Almost. “You’re impossible, Haymitch,” she muttered, stepping closer, her heels clicking with each deliberate step. “Do you even remember what it’s like to care about anything that’s not in a bottle?”

Haymitch let out a short laugh, the bitterness in his tone clear. “Well, let’s see. I care about not getting my face squished by your heels, if that helps.

Effie stopped just short of the chair opposite him, her arms still crossed, and for a moment, there was a tension in the air. It wasn’t the usual tension that came from her lecturing him or his obvious disdain for her. No, this was different. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t fake. She was… frustrated. And maybe—just maybe—he was too.

“Why do you do this?” she asked, her voice softer now, though it still held a trace of that Capitol-bred authority. “You don’t have to drink yourself into oblivion every time. You don’t have to shut down every time we get close to the Capitol. We could—”

“We could what, Effie?” Haymitch interrupted, his voice growing more forceful as he leaned forward. “What do you think is gonna happen? I get all sunshine and roses and suddenly I care about your little Capitol circus? No. I don’t care. I never will. The tributes come and go. The Games happen. And I—” He cut himself off with a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m just here to survive, like everyone else.”

Effie’s eyes softened for just a moment, but then that damn spark of defiance flared again. She straightened up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Well, you’re not going to survive much longer if you keep drinking yourself into a stupor every time something gets hard.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Haymitch drawled, his smirk returning. “Maybe I like the way it feels. Maybe I like not thinking about the crap you’re trying to shove down my throat.” He took another swig from the bottle, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Or maybe I just like the idea of being the only one in this ridiculous train ride who isn’t pretending to be happy about anything.”

Effie opened her mouth, probably to deliver some scolding about his “self-destructive tendencies,” but Haymitch couldn’t help himself. His sarcasm bubbled out before she could get a word in.

“And hey,” he said, his voice lowering to a teasing tone, “if you’re really so determined to make me behave, you might want to try a different approach. I mean, I’m a sucker for a woman in power. But you? You might want to take that corset off before you start squeezing the life out of me.”

Effie froze, her face flushed with a mix of annoyance and something else—something Haymitch couldn’t quite place. He watched her for a long moment, enjoying the discomfort in her eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” she finally managed, her voice trembling, but she didn’t leave. And that, Haymitch thought, was the real kicker.

“Yeah, I know.” He took another drink and leaned back, looking her up and down. “But you keep coming back for more. Either you’re a glutton for punishment, or… you’ve got a soft spot for me. I knew it.”

Effie rolled her eyes, but there was a soft laugh in her voice that almost made him regret his next words. “Maybe I just pity you.”

“Ah, so you’re my knight in shining armor then?” Haymitch chuckled darkly, tilting his head toward her. “I could get used to that.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but something shifted in her gaze. A flicker of uncertainty, mixed with exasperation, passed through her eyes before she sighed dramatically, giving him a small, almost reluctant smile. “You know, you’re insufferable. But if I’m your knight, you’re a very difficult prince to rescue.”

Haymitch smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. “I like a challenge.”

Effie shook her head, but there was no real heat in it. She seemed almost… resigned. “You’re impossible,” she said, though the words weren’t as sharp as usual.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

For a moment, the air between them was thick, not with tension, but with something else—something unsaid. He didn’t know what it was, but it was there, lingering like the whiskey on his tongue.

[oh-no-another-idea]

WIP extract

Very old tag from @space-writes -- thanks, friend! Last night I climbed into bed and turned my lamp on and opened up my notebook and wrote some Bent Nails WIP, which was really calming and lovely :) Have a little bit!

Angela took the pan from him and rinsed it off. "It's funny to think of, though. If things turn out a certain way, this house might be empty in a few short months." Michael looked up at the table, the window, the yard beyond. In the other room, he could hear the tv. Someone's feet upstairs made muffled noises through the ceiling. "I think he always intended to fill this place with a family," Angela said sadly, putting the pan in the dish drain. Michael wasn't in the business of feeling sorry for Nick, and he didn't intend to start now. "He managed before." "I don't want him to manage all his life," she said, looking up from the sudsy water. Her eyes looked like Sutton's--clear, concerned gray. Michael handed her a bunch of silverware. "Why do you care? You love him?" Angela washed every utensil. "I suppose that's the reason, yes." "You should know," Michael said, "He won't tell me how my father died." Maybe he should have felt bad, saying that, but he didn't. Nick knew full well what could happen if he left the two of them along on kitchen duty. "If you're trying to get such information out of me, you're out of luck. He hasn't told me that either." That didn't appease Michael. "Yeah, well, it's not your dad that's dead." "Michael, have you asked him to tell you?" "Yes," Michael said shortly. "And I'm not going to beg. Nick should come to me. He owes me that, at least." Especially if he's the killer, Michael didn't add. He wasn't that cruel. "I think you should talk to him," Angela said. "Tell him what you--" "No," Michael said, turning to look at her squarely. "And don't you dare mention this conversation to him. Promise me you won't. Promise me." "I promise," she said, with Sutton's gravitas.

I'm finally getting to know Angela as a character! It's slow going, but it's going at least. For those confused: Angela is dating Nick, who is Michael's deceased father's best friend, and along with her daughter Sutton, the four of them are spending the summer together. 👀

@kaeru483 @chauceryfairytales @winterandwords @winglesswriter @tabswrites and anyone else who sees this too!

[onlyloki]

⚡️ do you truly hate me so?

TO  BE  ASKED  SUCH  A  QUESTION  FELT  LIKE  THE  SOFTEST  OF  PUNCHES.  like  tenderly,  the  stitches  of  a  healing  wound  are  cut  and  neatly  it  is  opened.  she  blinks  once,  twice,  thrice  —  wants  to  answer  him  immediately,  but  suddenly  her  throat  has  gone  dry. 

suddenly  she  is  merely  a  spectator  at  the  table  while  her  brother  speaks  his  dreams  of  being  the  king  one  day  and  their  father  simply  nods  along  drinking  from  his  chalice  as  their  mother  smiles  fondly. 

not  once  brought  up  in  conversation,  stomach  twisting  into  knots  as  their  presence  fades  away;  not  even  the  clinking  of  their  silverware  is  as  loud  as  the  thumping  in  their  chest,  yet  it's  not  heard.  HAVE  THEY  EVER  BEEN  HEARD?

and  maybe  there  is  still  a  bitterness  there,  maybe  there  is  still  hurt.  but  was  it  ever  hate?  WAS  IT  EVER  TRULY  HATE  FOR  THEIR  DEAREST  BROTHER?  sadly,  timidly  and  with  icy  droplets  gliding  down  paling  cheeks,  they  finally  speak.  ❝  oh  brother…  dearest  brother…  how  could  i?  does  the  moon  hate  the  sun  for  shining  when  it  sleeps?  does  the  rabbit  hate  the  dog  for  winning  it's  owner  the  prize  of  it's  lucky  foot?  does  the  dandelion  hate  the  rose  for  being  picked  first?  ❞ 

NO.  I  DO  NOT.  I  NEVER  HAVE.  I  NEVER  WILL.  ❝  you  are  my  brother.  i  can  hate  a  lot  of  people,  a  lot  of  things,  but  you?  that  is  something  i  don't  think  i  have  the  capacity  for.  ❞

[vampire-bitch]

🍳: Are they good at cooking? Do they like to? Why and how did they learn to cook, or, if they didn't, why didn't they?

omg Naru my fave goth Au'Ra 🥺

OH BOY. I haven't gone into detail about Leventis's 'dietary restrictions' before, but he's a Dhampir who eats flesh lol. On top of that, he was born into an extremely affluent (albeit dysfunctional) family, needless to say he could not cook to save his life. He's far more skilled with a dagger than a fork and knife.

On a slightly less morbid note, one of his party members did offer to teach him how to use silverware. (Lev does the good ol', stab steak in the middle, then saw it in half with knife move). He sadly turned down the offer, but deep down in his dark, half eaten, shriveled little soul was quite grateful for the offer and regrets not taking it.

[blackjackkent]

I think Gale thinks there's trouble afoot. But I'm not positive about it. :P

Further explorations through the Underdark - came across what appears to be yet another one of those magical laser things that obliterated the party a while back:

Concerning.

The area, which has a lot of broken and mossy stonework, is labeled as "Arcane Tower" which probably means there's lots of shinies in it if we can avoid being blown up. Hector's curiosity, as usual, is getting him into trouble.

The things don' t have a lot of health but all have the "Sturdy" trait which seems to functionally make them invincible for the moment. So the immediate plan is a lot of running and hiding in turn based mode and trying to get up to the door while staying in the blind spots. I'm assuming that there's an off switch if we can manage to get inside the tower but who knows.

Running Hector up to the front door - he took a couple hits and lost a couple of thieves' tools trying to get in, but we finally got the door open.

There are, as I really should have expected, more turrets inside. >.<

I decided to leave everyone else outside and just let Hector sneak around and try not to draw too much attention while looking for the off switch.

It's a big place.

There's an intriguing looking conduit thing on the level below where we came in; wondering if shooting it might turn the power off.

There's a giant elevator in the middle of the tower that seems to be worked by magic; Hector didn't know how to use it though.

Lots of wandering around getting occasionally clipped by turret shots and working through our collection of healing potions.

VERY fun item in one corner of the upper floor: "Chest of the Mundane."

It appeared to have a bunch of random crap in it like dishes and silverware and stuff, but when taken out, it all transformed into things like: a gold ingot, a potion of light, several spell scrolls, and a set of "Mystra's Boots" which Gale would probably like.

I actually remember reading somebody mentioning this on Reddit, and I think you used to be able to take it with you and carry all your heavy stuff in it to make it light. Sadly, according to the wiki, this was patched out and the chest "no longer serves any gameplay purpose." Sad times.

Unfortunately none of the things in the chest were a key to the elevator and Hector is starting to feel pretty bummed out about the whole situation. So I give up - how do I turn off the turrets and stop dying in here?

I need to use what now?

OK so apparently these are an item in a completely different area which disable magic around them, so we can place one at each turret and then wander the area freely. (They're apparently also necessary to turn on the generator that powers the elevator.)

[sigh]

Definitely reloading and going there first and then coming back, because I used a LOT of greater healing potions for no reason trying to figure this out. XD

[burntheedges]

Ok first of all, these two are so cute together. I love the flirting at the beginning! And the teasing.

I feel like you really got Javi G spot on. So easy with feelings, so caring, so open. I loved this —

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists. ‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

He’s worried about her, of course! And ugh, the pining! I could feel all of her angst and whew, you really put us right in it. 🥺 it’s so clear that they care about each other already.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

🥺 I do think it’s like him to get so swept up in this. He’s so romantic, he wouldn’t be able to let it go, even if it’s hurting him (and her). And loool at the moment where they’re just describing Amal Clooney! She is all of that, for sure.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him. ‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

😂 I laughed, I love that part.

His introspection about what he’s doing is so touching and heart-wrenching. Oh, Javi.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

Javi!! She is!!

Oh the heartache of that moment where she thinks she’ll meet her as a friend. Ohhhh, it hurt!!

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

Up until this point I’d been wondering!! 😭 tell himmmmm

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

😭 oh no pleaaaaase tell him!

but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

This imagery was sooo good. I felt for her so much here. 🥺 and noooo Javi’s face when he sees the mark!! 😭 these two are killing me!

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

Is someone crying? 😭 I do love that her friend recognized her love had deepend. Ugh, it hurts! you wrote this so beautifully!!

I love that he comes to her! And ‘let me speak’ lol Javi yes tell her! And of course he’s understanding, that’s so Javi. You really nailed him.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’ You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

Lovely 🥹 and then I absolutely love that she says his name at the end! So meaningful. I love them. 😍🥹

Things You Knew

Javi Gutierrez x Reader Rating: M Words: 8k AN: This is my submission for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge and @auteurdelabre trope-off. Apologies for doubling up on challenges but it's been a pretty insane month at work. Anyway. I chose Javi G as I've never written for him before, and my trope was Soulmates. This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Your ankles crinkled in their sockets when you stretched them, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant, so you didn’t. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the way the tendons strained under the weight of keeping your head up. It wasn’t even that working for Javi was that hard – he was a kind boss, generous with his time and respectful of yours – it was just that his relentless quest had started to take its toll on all your other tasks. Tasks that were mounting up without his attention.

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you started, your arms full of binders and your iPad balanced precariously on top, ‘you have a meeting with the executive producers this afternoon…’

‘Cancel it, and it is Javi, please. You know this, Cariño.’

He was good looking enough that you didn’t mind the pet name, or that he’d bestowed it upon you the moment he saw you on your first day in the job, seven and a half months ago. Now, though, it grated on you as he strode past you standing patiently at his office door.

‘They’ve said that if you don’t show up this time the deal is off, Mr Gutierrez,’ you tried again, following behind him as he made his way down the hall to the front door. Your heels clacked on the marble in a way that announced your arrival well before you had any intention of making it, and you hated that you were unable to move silently through his house.

‘They can say whatever they want to. They do not understand I’m on a quest,’ he said, talking to you over his shoulder as his longer legs carried him. You sighed, the sorrowful little sound of it stopping him in his tracks. You took a step back as he rounded on you.

‘Como, Cariño?’ he asked, his brows saddled in concern. ‘Do you work too late? Do you carry too many things? Look at all these…’ he tutted at you as he took the binders from your arms, all labelled neatly in your script; the names of his various projects, ledgers, budgets, a contract he still hadn’t read let alone signed. ‘Who makes you carry these, hmm?’ he said, grinning at you slightly as you secured your face in a disapproving glare.

‘My boss,’ you said, but fighting a grin.

‘What a monster he must be,’ Javi said, winking at you. You felt the heat crawling up your cheeks, and hated yourself for it. You had noticed long ago that his voice, when it was just the two of you, was softer, quieter, that he almost whispered to you such that sometimes you found yourself leaning closer into his orbit just to pick up the words. You felt the fizzle up your spine and ignored it, every time, his cologne and his shampoo and just his skin enough to send a riot of butterflies into your throat and suffocate you.

‘Enough of this, it does not matter to me,’ he said, dismissing your months of work.

‘Mr Gutierrez, when you find her, you’ll need…don’t you think you’ll…’ you tried to think of a reason. He didn’t need the money, you knew that. He didn’t need the social status, he had that in spades thanks to his wealth and his association with Nicholas Cage. He had everything a man could want except for the thing that kept him up at night, and when he found it…

‘Don’t you think Nic will want to know what happened to your next movie?’ you tried your Hail Mary, invoking the name of Jesus himself. Javi paused. Your arms now empty you tugged nervously on your sleeve.

‘I will find her,’ he said, determined, and you nodded at him. ‘But when I do, you are right, I will need to juggle all my other responsibilities…Oh, Cariño will you help me, still? You will not leave me to rot?’

‘You won’t rot,’ you said, rolling your eyes at him. ‘You’ll be too happy with her.’

He grinned, his dimples popping out. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to take them between your teeth, but you resisted, you always resisted.

‘I will be, Cariño, won’t I?’ he said, but he wasn’t asking for an answer, and you could see the way his eyes had drifted away from yours that he was imagining her again, conjuring her in his mind as if he could transport her in front of him just by sheer will.

‘Yes, Prince Charming,’ you said, and he smiled at you, again.

‘If only I had a glass slipper to try on these women,’ he said.

‘You have better,’ you said, nodding to his wrist. Absent minded, he ran his fingers over the mark, the pattern you had seen enough times to know by heart.

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists.

‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

‘You’re not the first I’ve witnessed find their match,’ you said, the words bitter on the back of your throat. ‘I’m happy that you will be happy, Mr Gutierrez. And that you apparently won’t fire me the moment you find her.’

‘I would never,’ he said, jostling the binders in his arms so that he could extend a hand to your shoulder. You felt the warmth seep into your skin through the loose cotton of your shirt. He wore a look of consolation on his face, and somehow that burned more than anything else.

A moment passed between the two of you, Javi’s thumb caressing your skin without his fully realising. You could see again his eyes were unfocussed, could see the spread of goosebumps up his forearm. You pushed him away, taking a step back and out of his grasp.

‘I do hope it’s soon, though,’ you said, plastering a smile on your face. ‘Not sure I can hold off the execs much longer.’

‘Tell them a family emergency came up,’ Javi said, ‘tell them I am sorry, but I must attend to my loved ones.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, we said that last time,’ you reminded him. He dropped your binders, one by one, on the hall table by the door. Through the glass you could see his driver idling his sports car. You held in a sigh. Taking a pen from his front pocket he at least signed the contract, sight unseen.

‘Tell them again…it is not untrue,’ he said. ‘When I find her, she will be family.’

Before you could try and get him to see sense he was gone, the door opened and closed for him as he strode over the threshold. You forced yourself to look away, to turn your shoulder and stare instead at the binders beside you. You could never look when he left you.

--

You had meant to go home, you really had, but you found yourself unaccountably engrossed in Javi’s bookkeeping and before you knew it the sun was setting over the ocean. Your phone rang, the vibrations jolting you out of your work.

‘-lo?’ you said, without checking, and when you heard a scoff you knew it was your roommate, Karla.

‘Girl, what are you doing?’ she asked, and you sighed.

‘I got…stuck with work.’

‘I’ve been texting. This time you didn’t even leave me on read.’

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb the moment Javi had cleared the driveway. If he found Her, finally, you didn’t want to know about it.

‘Oh, I…needed to concentrate,’ you said. You realised your eyes were stinging and you blinked them a few times. How long had you been bent over your laptop? Too long, judging by the squawk of protest from your shoulders when you moved.

‘You’re breaking your back for this guy again?’ Karla asked. She knew, or at least she suspected with the benefit of very good evidence, that you didn’t work so hard for Javi because you cared about his next big movie production. Balancing the books for a multi-billion-dollar company wasn’t your job, either. But you knew that Javi had been taken advantage of before, by his own family no less, and you just liked to keep an eye on things to make sure he could trust his accountants.

‘I have a business degree, I gotta use it somehow,’ you said, and you heard Karla laugh. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.’

‘Mmm,’ you agreed. You felt your stomach protest, remembering that you had forgotten to eat lunch. Javi had a way of making your tummy flip that made it difficult to want to add food to the equation.

‘He’s out again, on the hunt?’ Karla asked, gently, because she could read your mind even through the phone and that was why you loved her.

‘Mmm,’ you said, again, this time trying to sound blasé.

‘And you’re not waiting around for him to come home to see if he’s hit the jackpot?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you said, shaking your head for the benefit of absolutely no one.

‘Course not,’ Karla replied. ‘Will you at least go eat something?’

‘How did you…’

‘Could hear your stomach grumbling from here,’ she cut you off, and you grinned. You paused, feeling the smile slide off your face.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

‘Honestly?’ Karla said, and you held your breath, waiting for her to answer. ‘No, that man is determined and he gets what he wants.'

‘He put the ad in the paper,’ you said, ‘and he went on Late Night and showed his mark on TV.’

‘And how many fakers did that bring out of the woodwork? The cheap tattoos? That one lady who Sharpied hers on and didn’t think he’d try wiping it?’

You scoffed at that. She had lasted all of three minutes, and it was three minutes too long in your opinion. His security teams had received a talking to after that.

‘I don’t like seeing him… like this,’ you said, and you meant distracted and not able to attend important meetings, making you grovel for reschedules. Of course that’s what you meant. ‘He was so disheartened when all that publicity didn’t work.’

‘Kind of makes me grateful I don’t have one, to be honest,’ Karla said. You made your way to Javi’s kitchen, untouched by anyone except for his chef, and scrounged around for something with which to make yourself a sandwich. ‘I think he’ll do all this dating, and he won’t find Her, but he’ll find a girl nice enough, or gorgeous enough, and he’ll make do.’

‘Some stunning influencer.’

‘6 foot tall, waist tiny enough to wrap one hand around,’ Karla agreed.

‘Rich lady hair. Tits up to her chin,’ you added, after a thought.

‘She’ll have a PhD in neuroscience, and something in Law’ Karla giggled, ‘and she’ll volunteer for the UNHCR.’

‘And she won’t know how beautiful she is, she just will be.’

‘She’ll pop out twins and be…wait are we just describing Amal Clooney?’

‘We…we might be,’ you conceded.

‘I met her once, she was lovely.’

‘Of course she fucking was,’ you said, an ache blooming at your temples you were worried would turn into a full-on migraine. Karla was right. That was absolutely the kind of woman Javi would end up with, should end up with, if there was any justice in the universe. You knew this. Of course you knew this.

‘I’m gonna go meet my Not The One But Good Enough,’ Karla decided.

‘Put the sock on the doorknob,’ you reminded her, and she remained on the line long enough to scoff at you before she was gone. She was your best friend.

You turned back to the cupboards, considering your options. The kitchen was well stocked, but it was an ingredient kitchen. You just wanted a box of mac and cheese, not to have to roll the pasta yourself. You sighed.

‘That was dramatic,’ you heard a voice behind you, and you swivelled fast enough to make yourself dizzy.

‘Mr Gutierrez!’ you said, his voice honeyed but his eyes sad in the light from above the stove. ‘You’re back early.’

You watched as he sighed, plonking himself down at the table. Behind him a storm threatened to blow in over the ocean. You felt your stomach sink for him.

‘She was not the One,’ he said, and you nodded.

‘Not even the Not the One But Good Enough?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

You knew Javi. Despite Karla’s predictions, you knew he was uncompromising in getting what he wanted, that he had enough money in the world to engineer any career, any dream for himself but this one thing, this one missing piece, that was nevertheless evading him. He wasn’t the type to settle, even if it would make him reasonably happy. You knew this, too.

‘I do not know how to describe it, just that I knew she was not Her.’

You stayed by the cupboard, not wanting to interrupt his reverie, not sure if you should intrude. It almost seemed as though he forgot you were there, until he snapped his eyes to you. ‘What are you doing hiding in the kitchen?’

‘I didn’t have dinner…’ you said, and he slapped his forehead.

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed, standing and running out of the room. You followed, because it seemed urgent, and because of course you did. You watched as he ran to the garage, disappearing into the darkness before you heard a car door slam.

‘Sorry, Cariño, I was just so upset about the girl, but it should still be warm. I will heat it for you.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, no, I can…’ you said, not wanting to remind him of the last time he tried to heat up leftovers, including his Great Grandmother’s silver serving spoon.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him.

‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

So caught up in chasing him down, as per usual, you didn’t even look at what was in his hands until he produced a plate and served it. You had been expecting a half-eaten chocolate cake, maybe some bread and an unwanted appetiser, but what greeted you was an intricate dish, seafood and delicate squares of polenta, a garnish of radish and dill. You looked, as subtly as possible, for any bite marks and found none.

‘The chef recommended it as his favourite,’ he explained, his eyebrows saddling as he watched your reaction. ‘You eat fish, yes?’

You nodded, dumbly. ‘How did you know that I would…’

‘You’re always working late, Cariño. You think I do not notice but I do.’

You felt heat in your chest, your belly flipping again. This time, though, the smell of the food wafting gently over your nostrils was enough to overcome it. You were embarrassed to find your mouth watering.

‘Thank you, Mr Gutierrez,’ you said, warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. He smiled, pleased.

‘She did not like the food at all,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he put the plate down in front of you and went to find forks. ‘She did not like to eat.’

‘Well, she’s crazy,’ you said, too impatient to wait for the cutlery and instead diving in with your hands, picking up a polenta square and popping it into your mouth. An explosion of flavour danced across your tongue and you moaned, your eyes closing of their own volition. When you opened them again you saw Javi gazing at you, pink blooming across his cheeks.

‘It is not cold?’ he asked you, his voice oddly strained.

‘No, it’s good, do you want some?’ you asked, reaching down and holding a square out for him. He came forward, tentative, as you placed the food gently on his tongue. You felt an ember of something lighting between your thighs as he savoured it, groaning slightly.

‘Oh, it is heaven,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. You thought for a deranged moment of slipping from your chair and getting down onto your knees for him, wondering if you could make him make him groan like that with his cock in your mouth. You blinked, swallowing harshly. His eyes opened, gently, to gaze down at you.

‘I regret so much about tonight, and now I must also regret that I did not choose this for my own,’ he said, and you smiled at him. He reached for more and you batted his hand away.

‘Mine,’ you growled at him, and he grinned.

‘My hungry little Cariño,’ he said, and the little ember started to catch flame.

He sat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair, as you tucked in. So engrossed in the food you didn’t notice he had lapsed into silence until your plate was almost entirely cleared. When you finally remembered he was in the room you took him in.

He was quiet, his chin resting in his other hand as he considered the darkening sky over the ocean. You could see he was deep in thought, a kind of maudlin contemplativeness he was prone to sink into when things didn’t go his way. You wanted to pull him into your arms and wrap your fingers in his curls, soothe whatever troubled him with your lips on his skin.

‘What else do you regret about tonight?’ you asked, bold for someone who was technically talking to her boss. You pulled him from his reverie, but the room remained heavy with the weight of his sadness.

‘Have I gone about this all wrong?’ he asked. You wanted to reach out and smooth the indent where his brows crashed together, wipe the hopelessness off his face once and for all.

‘I don’t know how else you could have gone about it,’ you said, honestly. ‘You’ve gone about it basically every way there is.’

‘The talk show, that was not such a good idea.’

‘It seemed OK at the time, you just forgot people are generally terrible.’

‘A Sharpie, of all things. And it was black.’

You snorted a little. ‘I mean, no marks for execution but you gotta respect the hustle?’

Javi lapsed back into consternation for a while, and you let him. Being with him set your nerves ablaze but also, paradoxically, calmed you in a way that no-one else did. He was your boss, and he was annoying and this quest of his was ruining your standing with quite a few important contacts, but he was also kind, and he was loving, and you imagined that if you were to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat it would sound like home.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

You wanted to reach out and put your hand on his forearm, rub it with your thumb as you cooed into his ear. You needed to get yourself together. You were tired and he was wearing down your resistance by being so sad and so fucking gorgeous at the same time. You cleared your throat.

‘I should head home, it’s late,’ you said, and he nodded.

‘Cariño…’ he suddenly started, grabbing your arm as you went to move away. You pulled it from him, the heat of his touch even through your sleeves scorching. He sat beneath you as you stood over him at the table, his expression changing from sadness to hope to something else, something not quite settled comfortably on his features. ‘You can come in late, if you like. Since you worked late tonight.’

You couldn’t have said how. Maybe just that the look on his face, his hesitation, just by the way he had paused as he gazed up at you, but you just knew he had been going to say something else, had been thinking something else entirely. You wouldn’t ever be able to articulate it. You just knew this, too.

--

You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what you wanted, after all. So, you could only smile, a little tightly, when Javi bounded into his office one afternoon, uncharacteristically late, and beamed down at you sitting at your desk.

‘You found her,’ you said, ignoring the stone shifting in your belly.

‘No,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, a look of almost remorse crossing his fucking beautiful features. ‘But she is just as good.’

You nodded at him. Fucking Karla had willed this into existence.

‘So, your quest is over?’ you asked, but he was already bouncing on his heels, looking at you with bright eyes and his dimples so sharp he could poke himself. You recalibrated. ‘Tell me the story,’ you said.

‘Oh, Cariño it was like nothing I had expected but somehow it was better.’ He was looking over your head, as if watching the movie of this perfect moment playing back behind his eyes.

‘We do not have the same marks. Hers is different, it is close but a little off on the left side? Anyway, I was at the bar talking to Marco, you remember Marco he financed my last project? So, I was talking to Marco about locations for filming in the Spring, and suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder and a woman…a vision of a woman…tells me if we need a vineyard she has one on the south coast!’

‘She…has a vineyard,’ you repeated, an image of Amal Clooney in a sundress holding a bottle of wine while giving you the finger appearing in your mind.

‘Well, it is her fathers, but I can not exactly complain about that,’ Javi said.

Ah. There it is.

‘And where did she get her law degree?’ you asked, not able to stamp out all the bitterness in your tone before the words escaped your mouth.

‘Eh?’ he asked, and you waved him away.

‘No, nothing, it’s…that’s great. When do I get to meet her?’

‘Cariño, you want to meet her?’ he asked, and he seemed genuinely surprised this, and because of that it was difficult for you to quantify the hurt it caused.

You’d forgotten, you supposed. All the late-night chats, the bringing you dinner, the times you had stood beside him while he worked his way through half of Europe trying to find his one, then most of Hollywood to boot, you thought that there had been a friendship there, something more than a boss and an overworked, underpaid employee. Of course there wasn’t. He was a billionaire and looked like a model and talked with passion about almost everything he encountered. You were…you. You knew this.

‘Well, I need to vet her, Mr Gutierrez,’ you recovered, quickly. ‘Have you done the necessary background checks?’

‘Oh, I do not need those, this is love,’ he said, and you tasted sour over the back of your throat. Your mouth was turning down all on its own, the muscles of your jaw twanging under the strain. You were horrified to realise you were going to cry in front of him if you didn’t get out of there.

‘Mr Gutierrez, I strongly urge you to do the background checks,’ you said, your voice reedy, but he wasn’t listening. You wondered if he ever would again.  

‘We are to holiday in St Tropez,’ he announced. ‘I have just decided. Will you organise the helicopter?’

This time, you didn’t follow him as he strode out the door. You worried, instead, that you had condemned him, and by extension yourself, to a life of disappointment. It had to be this way, you were sure of it, and maybe you were worrying over nothing. Maybe this vineyard-inheriting goddess could make him happy, in the end.

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

--

‘He’s going to fucking marry her,’ you predicted, genuine misery in your chest nearly as heavy as the four pints of ice-cream you’d put in your belly. The Ben and Jerry’s had been Karla’s idea, and only now were you slightly regretting it.

‘Oh, fuck her, and fuck him too,’ Karla said, waving melting Triple Caramel Chunk in the air. ‘She’s probably got a stick so far up her arse she can’t bend over without getting a splinter.’

You snickered at this, the cruelty of it appealing to your whispering dark corners.

‘Daddy’s got a vineyarrrrrd,’ you intoned, affecting a truly awful sort-of-British accent.

‘DADDY! GET ME MORE VIIIIIIINES!’ Karla yelled, and now you were laughing so hard you were in real danger of asphyxiation.

‘DADDY! I’M TIRED OF THIS MANSION BUY ME ANOTHER ONE!’ you joined in, through hiccups of laughter and an errant burp.

You both paused for a moment, catching your breath. In the quiet the sadness seeped back in.

‘I still don’t understand why you don’t show him,’ Karla said, after a while. You sighed.

‘It’s not meant to be,’ you repeated for the hundredth time.

‘How can it not meant to be? You’re marked.’

‘Because he’s just…his life is completely different. I don’t fit into it, in any capacity.’

‘You do in one capacity,’ Karla said, nodding her head to your wrist.

‘He would be disappointed,’ you said, eventually, and Karla sighed.

‘You said when you saw him it was like lightning bolts?’ she asked, and you nodded. ‘You don’t think he felt that, too?’

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’

‘Karla, I love you, but you need to listen to me on this one. There were no turtle doves, no petals falling from the sky. He saw me and he shook my hand, and he said, “welcome to my staff, it is lovely to have you” and then he was gone. The whole soulmates thing, they don’t mention that crushing, ridiculous privilege will override it. He didn’t feel anything for me because there was too much money and status in the way.’

You were dangerously close to tears again, the helplessness and the grief washing back over your bones. To your relief Karla just nodded at you, extending a cold hand to rest on your knee. You immediately shucked her off. ‘Ice-cream hands,’ you muttered, and she smiled.

‘I just…I just feel like, shouldn’t he have the choice? To decide for himself?’ she asked, and you shrugged.

‘It’s better this way. He’s found Little Miss Vineyard. He says it’s…he thinks it’s good enough, clearly. That’s good for him.’

‘What about you, bub?’ Karla asked, and you were going to protest, going to tell her that it didn’t matter, that you were happy he was happy, that maybe the one act of love you could do for your soulmate was to just stay out of his way, but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

‘I’ll be OK,’ you said, and you knew the more times you said it, the more likely you would, one day, believe.

--

Javi and Vineyard were gone for the next ten days, which was enough time for you to harden your heart again and get back down to business. You decided, in the spirit of change and new beginnings, to finally bust out the black Amex card Javi insisted you keep in your drawer ‘for emergencies’ and renovated his office, deciding the mid-century brothel vibe didn’t suit a seaside setting. You were going to do modern coastal, you decided, using company time to browse furniture websites and considering the merit of rattan in a professional setting. You were going to do coastal, and you were going to do a fresh start and you were going to do healing. One decorative seashell at a time.

What you didn’t anticipate, though, so insistent on a new office kit out and by extension a new personality, was that everything would arrive flat-packed. The groundsmen faked bad backs, and the security team were pretty adamant their jobs didn’t extend to Allen keys, and so you found yourself down on your knees, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead, trying to beg the lug nut to sit flush on the dowel, whatever the fuck that was. It was this moment, of course, because the Universe was clearly punishing you for an egregious wrong doing in a past life that Javi, of fucking course, wafted back in.

‘Cariño?’ he said, uncertainly, to the lower half of your body.

‘Mmph,’ you responded, a screw held tight between your lips. ‘-ust a sc-nd Mr Git-er-ez,’ you muttered.

‘What are you doing? Where are my things?’ he asked, and you felt your shoulders drop. You took the screw from your mouth, deciding that four equal table legs that all touched the ground was so last year, and got up on your knees.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ you said, and you looked around at the detritus of your efforts; the bubble wrap, the ripped-open boxes, the two successfully constructed armchairs that took you the better part of the morning to assemble. ‘I thought, a fresh new look for your new love,’ you lied, and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

‘This was all my father’s,’ he said, gesturing to where the old furniture was stacked up against the back wall. You swallowed. You probably should have known that.

‘I…’ you started to apologise, but he cut you off.

‘It was never my style. But I never knew what my style was until…this…’ he said. ‘This is perfect, Cariño. How did you know?’

Your mark tingled and you pulled your sleeve down tight over your wrist.

‘I thought about what I would like and did the opposite,’ you lied again, and he laughed, clapping his hands in delight.

‘My brilliant Cariño,’ he said, and it would have been kinder if he’d just shot you on the spot. You felt the burn and ache in your chest. You wondered what cute little pet names he called Vineyard. But he was coming towards you, getting down on his knees in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

‘I will assist,’ he announced, in that way he had where there was just no arguing with him.

‘Why do I feel like you have never, in your life, put together flat-pack furniture?’ you asked, and he grinned at you.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, and you really fucking did.

It took an hour and a half, but by the end of your toiling you and Javi had the legs on the desk, all four and all the same length. It turned out if the dowel didn’t sit properly you could just whack it really hard with a paperweight. The things you learned working for Javi.

You stood together, appraising the upturned desk.

‘So, I guess we just each get on the other end and…flip it?’ you suggested.

‘It looks heavy,’ he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

‘It is, I got the really expensive one,’ you said, and smiled at him when he looked at you, questioningly.

‘You spoiled me?’ he said, and you scoffed.

‘One way to think of it,’ you said, not wanting to tell him you’d paid with glee thinking somehow this might put a little dent in his amour somewhere, knowing that of course it wouldn’t, but feeling the vindication anyway.

‘Ok, Cariño, you get on that end and then I think we…put it on its side?’ he asked, and you nodded at him.

‘Yeah, roll it that way,’ you said, gesturing to your left as you leant down.

‘That way?’ Javi asked, gesturing with his head to his left, not yours, but you weren’t watching him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you hummed, bracing yourself to lift. Was it lift with your knees to protect your back? Squat? That seemed like it would strain more…

‘1…2…3…’ you counted, hefting the desk to the left while Javi hoisted to the right. It immediately corkscrewed, rolling out of your hand and twisting your wrist as it thudded to the ground. You screamed in surprise and then blooming pain, holding your wrist in your hand as if you could repair it with just your grip.

‘Cariño!’ Javi called, vaulting over the desk and at your side in an instant, reaching out to grasp your wrist. He moved so quickly, so agile over to you that you didn’t have time to react. He pulled up your sleeve to get a better look, turning your wrist towards him to inspect it.

‘Wait, wait…’ you said, as your mark gently rotated into his view.

He froze. You closed your eyes for a moment, terrified to look at him, before you heard his sharp intake of breath. You opened your eyes again to see him examining it, lifting your wrist closer to him to properly inspect it.

‘Cariño…’ he whispered, and you swallowed acid over your raw throat.

‘I can explain,’ you said, but you couldn’t really. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, as if remembering for the first time the mark was attached to a person, and you watched as the confusion on his face crumbled away to a sorrow deep enough you thought he might stop your heart.

‘You knew,’ he said, his voice soft and dripping in betrayal. ‘All this time, you stood and watched…and you never said a thing.’

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you whispered, not knowing where to even start. He was right, of course he was right, but you had never intended to tell him, had never allowed yourself to imagine the conversation unfolding around you in this moment. The hurt bloomed on his face, and you felt tears start to well at your waterline. You blinked them back.

‘The whole time. You knew,’ he said.

You did, you had known. So many things you had known.

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

--

This was beyond even Ben and Jerry’s. Karla mostly left you to it, the unique weight of the pain at having hurt your soulmate indescribable. You had read that it was possible, when you finally made the connection, that you could feel their feelings as richly and as closely as your own. The combined weight of your sadness crushed you, pulverised you, such that you could barely think straight. Karla brought you easy food; toast and bananas and chicken soup, and you ate it all without tasting, only feeding your meat suit purely for maintenance, and didn’t allow yourself to remember the taste of the fish Javi brought back to you; his soulmate and his traitor.

You resigned, immediately. In writing, in an email that was never replied to. Each day you scrolled Instagram for news of the inevitable engagement to Vineyard. You held your phone in one hand while you rubbed at your aching mark with the other.

You knew, there were stories, of divorcing soulmates. It was rare but sometimes circumstances overcame even destiny, even biology. Sometimes people died, leaving their soulmates behind. You spent time on message boards reading the stories of people who had lost their connections, of people who had woken up one day and felt the mark cold to the touch, had known in their hearts then and there that their mate was gone. Some had felt it before they had found their matches. They struggled the most; the what ifs, the could-have-beens.

You considered that maybe it was a blessing that you at least knew it was Javi. It would stop you looking for the rest of your life, stop you having to check the wrist of every man you met, second guess any minimal attraction you might have felt to another.

Karla sat on the end of the couch as you stared out the window, the TV on but unwatched in front of you.

‘You love him,’ she said, simply, and you nodded. Heartsick, you didn’t have the words.

‘From the first moment,’ you agreed.

‘No, but it’s deepened, the more time you’ve spent with him,’ she observed. You nodded again before lifting your knees to your chest and resting your cheek there. If you closed your eyes and really tried you could conjure the memory of his cologne, could imagine you rested your head on his chest.

--

A couple of weeks passed. You couldn’t be sure how many. You got off the couch, the thrumming hurt of your heart and your mark lessening somewhat as the days went on. You checked it every morning for its warmth, relieved not to find it cold, and you wondered if your lessening sadness was really just that Javi was moving on with Vineyard. That now you were starting to lose his connection you could be left to your own miserable devices. You considered that this was inevitable, that the ending you had been expecting probably ran pretty close to this. You hated that you had hurt him, though. You had only ever intended to fade into the background before he noticed you were gone.

You applied for another job, this one far less glamorous but less likely to utterly gut you. On the mainland, doing some general bookkeeping and executive assistance for a CEO of a small manufacturing firm. It would be simple work, and you were a shoo-in, subject to a satisfactory referee check. You hovered over the form naming Javi as your previous employer.  In the end you named his business manager, leaving the details for him to fill in.

Your reference check came back within the hour. Glowing. You were offered the job.

Your first week was good, then your first fortnight. You received your first pay-check with gratitude, even though it was almost half what Javi had been paying you. You felt good to be productive again, to be able to put some of your skills to good use. You didn’t have to trail behind your boss as he blew off any and all obligations for some flight of fancy. You spent considerably less time discussing Face/Off.

It was fine, you were fine. It was going to be fine. You were aware, distantly, that you were probably heaving in denial and numbness, and it suited you, so you let it.

Except when you woke on what you thought would be a normal Thursday, your mark burning so hot you gasped awake, reaching for it to check it hadn’t been seared into your skin. Holding it up to the light it looked the same. Karla checked it and confirmed it seemed to the same temperature as the rest of you. Just your nerves were screaming, perceiving a flame not visible to the eye.

You googled, checking message boards, searched ‘burning marks’. There was nothing, which you weren’t sure was a good or a bad thing, worried for a moment you would pull up results from those who had lost their spouses, the burning mark serving as a premonition of the horrors to come. You slathered burn cream on it, which did nothing, took an anti-inflammatory or two and considered calling in sick. In the end you decided against it, because you weren’t sick sick, you were heartsick, and somehow that just didn’t feel anywhere near as real.

On the ferry over to the mainland you considered lowering your arm into the ocean water, the cool of the water maybe able to provide some relief. You would have to get down on your knees in your work skirt, on the wet and not particularly clean ferry floor. You considered it longer than you cared to admit.

In your office the heat from your mark started travelling up your arm and you started googling ‘infections of the blood and skin’ and ‘septicaemia’. You wondered if it was an allergic reaction, if perhaps you had run your arm through some kind of heinous plant, and you wondered if the office had an epi-pen in the first aid kit. You googled if it was bad to use one if you weren’t actually in anaphylactic shock. The internet was pretty damning of the idea.

You wondered if you needed to go the local emergency care clinic, was just debating asking your boss for the afternoon off, when a shadow darkened the door.

‘Cariño?’ it said, a perfect Javi-shaped silhouette as the sun streamed in from behind.

‘Mr Gutierrez?’ you asked, gasping immediately as your mark pulsed, the heat shooting down your arm and into your chest. Was it a stroke? How were you supposed to know if it was a stroke?

‘My Cariño,’ he said, stepping forward into your little office and somehow crowding all the space. His cologne wafted over to you, and you felt the warmth of it spread over your nostrils and down into your blood. You wavered a little on your feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you said, stepping back from him as he advanced, feeling the sudden urge to keep space between you, not to let him to get too close, knowing that if got within arms reach you would pull him into you, wrap his arms around your back and your legs over his hips, never detach yourself from him, sink your lips over his neck and taste his pulse through his skin.

‘Cariño…’ he said, but you interrupted him, the searing heat of your mark now making its way to your racing heart.

‘I thought you would be happier with someone more like you… I thought it was a kindness, that you would feel something for someone that would be enough to make you happy. And I only ever wanted you to be happy, you have to understand that I did it so that you could be happy…’ you trailed off, the words spilling out of you now, distracted by the flames in your chest. ‘Karla said I should tell you, let you choose, and I know now that she was right, I think I always knew she was right, but the idea that you wouldn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure I could survive it, so I didn’t let you. It was selfish and it wasn’t very brave and I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to…’ you felt tears on your cheeks, marvelled at them, at how they could appear unbidden. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t fully convinced you were alive.

‘Cariño…’ he tried again, taking another step towards you but you held your hand up, your aching mark now uncovered.

‘Please, please…I don’t think I can…’ you started, but you didn’t know how to finish. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d come here to just finally end things. To tell you he was going to marry Vineyard but wanted a clear conscience first. Wanted to let you down easy, in person. Was your mark burning because he was furious with you? He mostly just seemed nervous.

‘Let me speak, Cariño, oh my god,’ he muttered, his patience rapidly running out. You stopped short. ‘I know. I mean, not at first. At first, I did not understand, but I thought about what you must have been feeling, how you must have thought of me.’

‘No, I…’

‘The silly man who runs around causing you problems.’

‘No…’ you started, but he kept talking, despite you.

‘But then I thought harder, and I felt more.’ He gestured to his mark, the perfect match for yours. ‘I was not angry, Cariño, I could never be angry at you. I was sad, I think, that I had failed you.’

You shook your head, the words failing you.

‘I felt more into the mark…I do not think I am making any sense. But I thought of you, my Cariño, I think I heard you in my head a little bit, and I thought of your beautiful heart, and I knew why you did it.’

‘You did?’

At this he shrugged, honest and raw. ‘Of course I did, you are my One.’

‘Why did I do it?’ you asked him, genuinely still trying to settle it for yourself.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’

You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

‘Usually?’ he asked. You noticed for the first time that, since he had started talking, he had also been moving towards you. That if you reached out to him, and he reached out to you, skin would meet skin.

‘Always,’ you said, grinning.

He nodded. ‘It is true, I will not lie,’ he said. ‘I get what I want.’

He took another step, and this time you stayed put.

‘You don’t hate me? You’re not mad? All those dates…’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘I knew,’ he said, devastating you in two words.

‘You did?’ you asked, with the little breath you still had.

‘Some part of me knew, yes,’ he nodded. His brows were crashing together now, his face so earnest, so open, as he inched towards you like he was trying not to spook a bear. Later you would realise the closer he was to you the less your mark burned. You could smell him this close, more than his cologne but the clean, crisp scent that was just his skin, just Javi.

‘All of those women, Cariño. In all of those women I looked for you.’

You didn’t think. Nothing about it was conscious. You just felt the firework explode in your chest and moved to him, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you, his lips searching and little muffled whimpers matching your own. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a melding, a coming together. It was something right and essential slotting into place, a line item checked off on the Universe’s ledger. You gasped into his mouth, your knees weak, your pulse heavy at your throat. His skin on yours. He reached up a hand to cup your jaw, pulling you closer into him.

‘Javi…’ you whispered, and he groaned a little.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and you did.

[chloeriversongwrites]

[Fluff] Qrow BranwenX Shion Murailis Batty Love Part Two

The sun started to rise but ever so slowly to shine through the Windows of Mistral’s Academy room where team RNJR and two members of team RWBY were staying, along with Qrow, Oscar/Ozpin, and Shion. Qrow became the first one to wake up to cover his eyes from the sunray that was blinding him, usually, he’d just ignore it or cover the windows up to go back to sleep but today isn’t one of those days.

Qrow rubbed his tired eyes before stretching his arms and legs out to hear cracking noises from each limb, letting out a yawn as he walked out of the room that he was staying in, reminding himself to remake the bed when he went back in to change into clean clothes; funny that he doesn’t carry suitcases around with clothes in them when he's in his bird form. He shook his head softly before heading into the kitchen.

The morning wasn’t exactly his best friend due to reasons like getting his eyes blinded by the morning sunray or being up too early and not going back to sleep, on the plus side he doesn’t usually drink alcohol in the mornings, only drinking coffee for that matter to wake up. Qrow took a deep breath before making breakfast for everyone, having his mind on last night’s confession with Shion.

Shion was someone that he wanted to spend his life with even if he’s a bad luck charm and keeping secrets for his and Ozpin’s sake, although it seems like everyone is starting to question things. Tell them when we return from our scouting for recruits for an upcoming fight… He soon went to make the table while things cooked for a minute or two, making him check once and a while as he placed silverware down beside the plates.

Soon the former students from Beacon and Oscar/Ozpin came into the kitchen, making the older male look over his shoulder to watch them taking a seat at the table. “Uncle Qrow, I didn’t know that you cooked.” Ruby had her head tilted to the side while being the innocent teen that she was, making her uncle chuckle at her, having a plate with pancakes on it, and placing it on the table. “I used to cook for you and Yang when you two were young.” He started with another chuckle.

Shion rubbed her tired eyes as she joined the others at the table with her wings tucked onto her back, placing her head on the table due to being woken up in the morning wasn’t the best thing for a bat Faunus but who could blame them? Some bat Faunus prefer sleeping all day and coming out during the nighttime, except for students at some Academies since classes are in the morning and more.

Shion soon looked up to Qrow with an apron on which made her chuckle softly. It was nice to see someone like him in an apron while he was preparing breakfast for everyone. “Pancakes for breakfast?” She asked with a toothy smile on her face, and couldn't wait to try out her new lover’s cooking. However last night’s confession was extremely hard for Qrow but he managed to pull through and confessed to her.

The new couple wanted to wait until they were ready to tell everyone else that they were dating now, sadly that had to wait until they got back from the recruiting hunters or huntress that were still able to fight. Qrow wanted to wait until the afternoon to search for them with Shion, except he was getting a bad feeling that today wasn’t going to be one of those best days that they were going to have.

Ruby didn’t recall trying out her uncle’s cooking when she was young, rubbing the back of her head in thought to remember anything. “Believe me, sis, Uncle Crow's cooking is the best when it comes down to breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Yang places a hand on her sister’s shoulder with a big smile on her face, being the little trickster that she was, and gives her younger sister a buggy on the head.

Everyone from RNJR and Weiss started to laugh at the sister’s silliness at the table, and Shion joined in the fun since head nuggie can be fun to do to a family member or a close friend for that matter. Qrow couldn’t help but chuckle at his two nieces who seemed to cheer him up, along with seeing them being their old selves after what happened to Beacon and their friends during that horrible outbreak with the Grimm and the White Fang.

Soon morning went by and everyone had their fill of pancakes and fruit that goes with the said breakfast, everyone seemed to be doing their own thing and well Ozpin who took over Oscar’s body went to train Ruby hand to hand combat, due to her skills with hand to hand combat wasn’t exactly great because she relies on her weapon to do the job. “Shion, are you ready to go?” He put his attention on Shion.

“Yes, I’m ready to go on our little mission,” Shion replied to his question while grabbing her weapon from the table that she had placed it on when she went to eat breakfast, never leave a weapon behind in case you need it the most. Soon the two left the room together which caused both Yang and Nora to be curious about what was going on between Qrow and Shion, although they could wait until they came back.

Mistral seems like a peaceful Kingdom but that didn’t make Qrow any better due to being on guard, something like another Grimm outbreak can happen again and it made him a bit uneasy with the thought. “Listen Shion, I need to tell you something...  But it has to be kept a secret between us two.” Qrow had both hands in his pockets while trying to find a way to explain things to the female.

Magic is real and it could even bring the dead back, however, Ozpin gave him and his twin sister the ability to turn into birds. “What is it, Qrow?” Shion asked while keeping up with the older male. “It’s hard to explain things when there are many things on my mind and how you’ll react.” He grunted softly while rubbing his forehead, only feeling the comforting hand on his cheek. “Whatever it is, you can trust me.” She smiled softly. ~~~~~ Part Two Out Of Three

Word Count: 1,085

Shion Murailis Belongs to BlueRose86