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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 5 months

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𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅. 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, flirting, fluff, angst angst angst, pining, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, Southern culture slander just for @jupiter-soups, multiple instances of violent men/situations, predatory/SA behaviors, Sad During the Holidays™, financial/emotional/physical abuse, high functioning alcoholism | WORD COUNT: 18.3k lmaoooo

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: You try to make the best of the "holiday season," and Joel tries to piece together the secret you've been keeping from him.

The shopping centers around town had all hung their plastic wreaths with bows and fake candles from the light poles that lined the increasingly crowded lots. You never understood why the accompanying flags said Happy Holidays! or Season’s Greetings! when all the decorations were clearly Christmas themed. No matter what anyone celebrated, you dreaded this time of year.

The disappointment was obvious when you were a kid and Santa didn’t come some years because you’d “ been too naughty.” You’d get a few meager gifts from your parents that were clearly an afterthought, but you were always left with the failure and profound sense of shame of not being good enough. Of not having tried hard enough. Of not proving yourself. Of not wanting it badly enough.

By the time you were a teenager, you reasoned that those years where Santa didn’t visit were probably due to the volatile, strange relationship your parents had with each other and with money. Your dad had always brought home enough pay to afford the basics and then some, always offering the allure of a financial safety net for your mom, never having to worry about missing a payment on something or not being able to afford what the neighbors could afford. He was outraged when she took up part-time work, thundering about how it belittled him and isn’t what I make good enough for you?

Your mom made awful choices, often one after the other, but you knew she couldn’t have chosen to love your dad. Who on earth would choose to love someone with such a massive inferiority complex? Someone who needed to keep you under his thumb in case his ego needed a boost or his temper needed an outlet? Someone who kept you strung along just enough to make you see what things could be – dangling the carrot on a stick – just to yank it from you because you weren’t worthy of it yet.

It was your dad’s ego and need for validation that led him to cheat on your mom. That was your best guess, anyway. It’s not like the family sat down to talk about it ever. Everyone knew, but no one was allowed to speak on it. Unless of course it was your parents screaming at each other in the middle of the night, accusations and confessions flying.

One of the times your mom had gotten it the worst from your dad is when he’d discovered her fooling around with somebody at her part-time job. After he made sure her body wouldn’t ever move again without a reminder of him, he made her quit and sign over all her remaining pay to his private account. It was probably some sort of punishment for her hard earned money to go into his personal, private account. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.

It never stopped her from lashing out at him, though. She always finagled her way into an account or stealing a card before blowing a bunch of money on something insignificant just to spite him. You never understood why sometimes she’d cower from him and other times openly defy him. They’d hit each other and then sometimes he’d just hit her. He always hit Calum, though.

When your mom couldn’t disrupt that dynamic, she started leaving the house more often. If she couldn’t stop it, then she didn’t want to be around to see it. The anger you carry for that still bubbles up every now and then, often when it’s least convenient to address. You and Calum were never given the option of leaving.

You were both expected to fall in line with whatever whims were being had by whichever emotionally stunted adult was home at the time. You were both expected to tune into the mood of the household and adjust yourselves accordingly.

It took a long time after your mom left for you to realize why your dad chose Calum as his main target: he was the next in line that posed an inevitable threat to his authority.

Calum had always leaned more towards the scrawny side, but a few growth spurts after age 12 had bulked him up and upped his height significantly. You can still vividly remember the first time it clicked for them both that Calum was finally a physical match for your dad. They were arguing about Calum’s grades, as if the horrible stress of your mom leaving on top of the already shitty home environment weren’t a clear source for the poor academic performance.

When your dad shoved him, he shoved back. Hard. Hard enough that your dad stumbled backwards into the wall and cracked some of it with his shoulder. The tense silence that followed felt like it went on forever. You watched on in horror, anchored to the spot and shaking. It felt far-fetched and perfectly reasonable all at once when you briefly feared that your dad might kill him.

Before he could say or do anything, Calum scurried off to his room and slammed the door shut. Your dad rounded on you and slapped you clear across the face for “just standing there watching it all.” For bearing witness to the shame of him being challenged and bested. You’d automatically apologized and ran to your room.

You didn’t have fun family holiday traditions like everyone else seemed to. You didn’t have fond memories of a cherished gift. Your parents didn’t have funny stories about the mayhem of beating out other parents to snag the hottest toy of the season for their kid. You didn’t have a favorite holiday movie. You didn’t have fun, quirky stockings or personalized ornaments or special recipes that were only brought out this time of year.

Your distaste for the holidays had grown into an outright dislike for them altogether. If it wasn’t the stress of your parents fighting or whether or not Santa would deem you a bad kid again this year or having to hear all your classmates buzzing with the excitement over break once school started back up, it was the glaring truth that you were different and had to hide because of it.

Everything was a lie. Everything was a carefully concocted and delivered story. To avoid prying questions. To ignore the hurt of what you lacked. To keep anyone from finding out about your home life and getting you and Calum separated.

You tried not to stew in it. You tried not to rain on everyone else’s parade. It wasn’t their fault you’d grown up like that, and it wasn’t your right to be angry with them because they hadn’t. Still, this was your first Christmas without Calum home. Thanksgiving had been more manageable since everyone treated it as a single day of celebration – a half week at most. But come December, it was just a month long barrage. Twenty five days straight of reminders that you were alone. You hated it.

You made sure to keep that to yourself, though. Joel had sheepishly kept the radio on a holiday station, mumbling something about how Sarah would always make him leave it on. You didn’t tease him over it, didn’t mention the obvious fact that he seemed to like the music, too, but wasn’t sure how to acknowledge it without getting grief for it. Tommy for sure would say something just to get a rise out of him. You wonder what they were like as kids at Christmastime.

You jostle in your seat as Joel takes a particularly sharp turn. The usual shopping center route he took as an office cut through was busier with cars and people with all the holidays looming. You cherish the extra 3 or 4 minutes of alone time this alternate route gives you.

It’s only a few days into the month when he strikes up a conversation about getting gifts early so he’s not scrambling at the last minute. He tells you all about how he should know better by now and how many years he spent rushing around at the last minute with Tommy sat up at the house while Sarah slept just so he could try to get his hands on what she’d asked Santa for.

You think to yourself how you wish you knew what to get him for a gift. Not that you’d do it. You barely have any money, and you don’t even know what he’d like. Plus, it’d probably be rude or look weird to not also get Tommy something. At worst, you’d get Joel something you could actually afford, and it would just be a cheap gift no matter what. You’re also not well-versed in Christmas gift exchanges considering your upbringing. It’s probably best to just avoid it altogether at this point in your life.

“You know, you could use a vacation day if you wanted. Or even a half day if you don’t need the whole day.”

You pivot in your seat from where you’d been gazing out the window at all the random, tacky decorations that popped up seemingly overnight. Calum would’ve laughed at them with you if he were here. “What?”

“Yeah, you can use some time off. You’ve already earned some.”

You blink a few times and try to figure out what he means by bringing this up. Did he not need you as much? Were you too unproductive to keep around? Was he trying to let you down easy while he told you the job wasn’t yours anymore?

“I don’t want a day off.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s nothin–”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Huh?” He tilts his head to meet your eye. He looks just as confused as you feel.

“If I made it seem like I don’t want this job, I do. I really do. And-And I can work harder, too. I can take more hours. I can take on more responsibility.” It all comes spilling out of you in a frantic rush. Whatever he needed to hear so that you didn’t lose this job. So you didn’t lose Joel.

“Sweetie, I just meant if you had Christmas shoppin’ or somethin’ like that. You could use a vacation day instead of fightin’ off the crowds on the weekends.”

Oh. Of course that’s what he meant. And of course it hadn’t occurred to you because you don’t have anyone to get gifts for. The lead brick of embarrassment knocks around your head and leaves little bruises of self-doubt at every point of contact. You could’ve just thought about it for two seconds instead of making a fool of yourself.

“You know,” he starts gently and sounds a lot like he’s choosing his words carefully. “You’re a hard worker. And a good person. And there’s nothin’ wrong with me recognizing that – or anybody else. Even you.”

Your throat feels tight and prickly, and your nose feels suspiciously like it wants to start dripping warm with sentiment. This is already embarrassing enough without you sniffling and getting all bleary eyed. You want to clam up and bury it all deep until you can act like a normal person again. But something about Joel’s earnestness and kindness pulls at the loose thread that’s keeping you from unraveling altogether.

“I thought you were firing me,” you blurt out.

Apparently this is outlandish enough that Joel has to pull over for a moment to digest it. “What in the world?! Why would I fire you?!” He doesn’t sound mad, just genuinely perplexed. “Look, if I’m givin’ you that impression, you gotta tell me because that is NOT what I wanna portray here.”

“I-It’s not you,” you assert. “I just–I get in my head sometimes.”

He softens at that and reaches out for your hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

You grab onto his hand but can’t meet his eye, choosing to look out the window again instead. “This job–you–This job means a lot to me, and I just get scared sometimes of losing something that makes me happy.”

You feel the dip of his weight bow the bench seat as he scoots across it to nestle closer to you. You practically melt on the spot when he wraps his free arm around you. “Hey, you ain’t losin’ this, okay? I don’t want you worryin’ about that.”

You shake your head side to side like you’re trying to dispel all the disorienting thoughts. “Sometimes I just feel like I don’t do enough, like I don’t—I dunno, like I have to keep showing that I’m useful or something. It’s like that guy who has to push the rock up the hill, and it just keeps rolling down.” You fix your eyes on a spot in the distance to keep yourself distracted enough to keep talking. “I feel like it’s gonna crush me one of these days,” you confide in a strangled whisper.

You don’t protest when Joel wraps his other arm around you and pulls you snug against him. It’s an awkward sort of embrace in the confines of the truck, and your tired, pliant body isn’t helping things much.

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?”

It’s not a demanding question at all, but it certainly feels that way with how trapped you are in your own secrets. Joel couldn’t possibly know what he’s asking you to divulge.

“It’s my dad,” you confess quietly.

You feel Joel’s body stiffen against you. How much had he already pieced together? You couldn’t tell him like this. He didn’t deserve to have this shoved onto his plate. He’d just been so happy talking to you about all his good memories from this time of year, and you’d gone and ruined it like you always do. You backtrack a little. A half-truth. A half-lie.

“Ever since Calum left, it’s just been harder, you know?”

His body relaxes slightly. “Your brother? Is that why you’ve been on edge? And your dad?”

You clock the relief in his voice. He must’ve been thinking it was something worse. He must’ve been too close to realizing the truth.

“I miss him,” you sniff. “I know him and my dad were never going to get along, but I just wish somehow he could’ve stayed.”

He holds you close, and you angle yourself to fit right into the crook of him. You’ll allow yourself this comfort, just this once. You know from now on you’re going to have to keep a tighter lock on things. This wasn’t anyone’s problem but your own.

“He didn’t make it home for Thanksgiving?”

You shake your head against his shoulder. “No. Probably for the best, though. I always just end up getting caught up in the middle of them.”

“That sounds really hard.”

When you let out a shaky breath in reply, Joel rubs your back and shushes against your temple. “You been dealin’ with this by yourself?” He doesn’t wait for your response. He already knows. “You shoulda come to me, sweetheart. You could’ve, you know?”

“I know,” you sniff.

He pulls back just enough to see your face.

“You come to me if you have somethin’ you wanna talk about, okay? No judgment here. Hell, I won’t even offer advice or say anything if you don’t want. I can just listen if that’s what you need.”

Your bottom lip quivers, and you tug it into your teeth to keep it still. You nod and drift into another hug from Joel.

He’d recognized the shift in you. Something had been even more off since Thanksgiving. You’d said it was a nice day, just a lowkey event. As always, there was the presence of something unspoken just in the periphery of the conversation, but Joel knew better than to ask or to push you for more information. He’d been worried about your notably quieter and somber mood, though. He found himself worrying about you a lot these days. He got the distinct feeling you needed something – someone, maybe – and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t seem to flush the answer out of the reeds.

And then finally, finally, you’d said something that made things clearer. Your brother up and leaving all those months ago was the missing piece. It made so much more sense now. Your dad’s prickly, on edge demeanor. His overbearing worrying about your comings and goings. Maybe the whole bank account thing was just him trying to hold onto the one kid he still had left at home. It wasn’t the healthiest approach, but Joel couldn’t really blame a parent for doing anything in their power to keep their kid in their life. The misdirected upset at you was still irksome, though. You didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your dad’s unresolved issues about your brother leaving.

Joel painstakingly replayed the conversation over and over again in his head, trying to piece together all the crumbs of information you’d left here and there.

You and your brother got along well enough that his absence weighed heavily on you.

He and your dad didn’t get along at all.

You were always caught in the middle of it.

Your brother left because he and your dad couldn’t work things out.

Did you blame yourself for not being able to keep their relationship intact? Did they still put you in the middle or make you choose sides? Were you still acting as referee to their disagreement?

As many questions as your admission had answered, many more took their place.

“You okay with your bonus bein’ in cash, too?”

He always asked even though he knew the answer by this point. You wonder if he wanted you to say no and just get paid like everyone else did. “Oh, I didn’t know I was getting a bonus.”

“You’re an employee, aren’t ya? Employees get a holiday bonus.” He says it like it’s obvious, and for once you appreciate the finality of the conversation. You didn’t have to wrestle with yourself over whether or not you deserved it because Joel and Tommy were going to give it to you regardless, just like every other employee.

“Thank you,” you say politely in a small voice.

He hums in reply and looks over at you. His jaw slides back and forth a few times in thought before his eyes are on the road again.

“You did good this mornin’.”

You snort and roll your eyes, face angled at him to emphasize your amusement. “I didn’t even do anything. Like, a few laps in a completely empty parking lot isn’t really anything to write home about.”

He smiles softly. “Progress is progress, ain’t it?” he contends. “One successful driving lesson under your belt is plenty enough to celebrate as far as I’m concerned.”

Your cheeks warm at his praise and insistence that something you did deserved to be acknowledged and commended. “I dunno, I think my instructor is a bit of a softie,” you tease. “Feel like I could’ve driven his truck straight into a ditch and he still would’ve found something nice to say.”

Joel chuckles and shakes his head. “Now I don’t know about that one, ya little weasel.”

“Weasel?!” you laugh. “Okay, that’s a new one.”

He laughs louder now and fake pinches your side. “Well it’s the first time you’ve suggested driving my truck into a ditch and gettin’ away with it. Had to bring out the big guns on that one.”

You giggle and jerk out of his reach when he goes to fake pinch you again. “Surprised you didn’t put some weird southern spin on it like usual. ‘Cheesy wheezy weasel goober doober’ or some shit,” you laugh. “Constantly making up words. Real country bumpkin shit, Joel.”

He breathes out a laugh and rolls his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“I dunno, Goober Doober. What am I gonna do with you?”

“If I’m Goober Doober, you’re Plucky Duck,” he challenges.

You both burst into a fit of cackles at the ridiculous nickname threats. The laughter dies down eventually, and the usually unbearable lilt of Judy Garland crooning from now on, our troubles will be miles away in the background feels almost cozy in the confines of the truck.

For once, when she serenades with through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow, you aren’t thinking about your broken family, your broken home, and all the broken, splintered things that could’ve been. You’re thinking about Joel and all the overwhelming urges to be closer to him and keep him with you as long as possible.

The pull of whatever this is that you share is undeniable. Your fingers reach out to him almost without your permission, body reacting and acting in spite of your brain trying to keep things rooted in professional, neutral territory. Your retaliatory pinch ends up as more of a greedy grab to his soft middle.

“Goob,” you huff.

“Pluck,” he shoots back as he grabs your hand.

You pull it back slowly and place both hands in your lap, smiling like an idiot still. Your brain has entered the picture again and is furious with your autopilot heart for constantly pushing the boundaries. The click of Joel’s blinker and the subsequent honk from another car wrench you from your self-chiding.

He jerks the truck back into the lane before laying on his horn and yelling, “Jackass!”

Your hand grips your chest from where it flew up in fright from the sudden maneuver. “Jesus christ! Where’d that guy come from!?”

“Was speedin’ over that hill back there. Can’t see what’s past it until you’re already on top of it. S’why the speed limit changes about four times on this stupid road,” he grumbles. “Hate takin’ it because of that very reason. Fuckin’ hardware store is over this way, though.”

“Fuck I thought he was gonna hit us!”

“Just about did. Fuckin’ idiot drivers. Honked at me like it’s my fault he ain’t followin’ the signs,” he huffs. He glances over at you, arm still clutched across your chest. “You okay?”

You nod and adjust in your seat. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Just scared me a little. Are you okay?”

“I’m good, sweetie.”

It’s a quieter drive to the hardware store where Joel checks on you one more time before leaving the engine running for you while he pops inside for a minute. “Just gotta grab another set of these brackets real quick.”

You sit patiently and listen to the not-so-grating-anymore Christmas music that plays in a low hum on the radio. A lively rendition of Jingle Bells spurs a completely forgotten memory of the year Calum sang the Batman parody version of it over and over again until you were both just about peeing your pants trying to keep your laughter down. You grin and mumble-sing what you can until it all comes back to you.

Jingle bells Batman smells Robin laid an egg The Batmobile lost a wheel And The Joker got away

You giggle and scoot closer to the driver’s side to turn the radio up more. Maybe you did have a happy holiday memory after all.

The nostalgia is cut short when the driver’s door flies open to reveal a surly looking man shooting daggers at you. You scream and reach to shut the door, but he hops onto the truck step and blocks you. He crowds into the frame of the door, not quite entering the truck, but effectively blocking a main exit. You start to scramble for the passenger side but think Joel’s truck getting stolen would be worse than you getting hurt by some psycho. You inch backwards and put your hands up in a placating show of submission.

“Hey, you fuckin’ bitch! You almost made us wreck back there!” he shouts. It’s so much louder in the cabin of the truck.

You shake your head, eyes bugging out wildly at the baffling charge.

“Back on Beaufort? Just over the hill? You’re really gonna act like you didn’t almost make me hit you when you came into my lane?!” he seethes.

It dawns on you that this is the driver of the car that had come hurtling over the hill and honked at Joel a few minutes ago. You hadn’t even noticed him going this same direction. Had he followed you? Obviously not too closely otherwise he would’ve seen that it was Joel who’d gotten out of the driver’s side. Unsure of what to do, you go with your tried and true default: apologize even though you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I-I’m sorry,” you warble.

“Sorry? Oh, you’re SORRY? Well I guess that fixes everything, huh?” he barks. “Sorry ain’t gonna fix all of us getting pancaked in a pileup just because some girl thinks she can run around in a big pick up truck and keep up with the guys. You need to learn to stay in your fuckin’ lane – literally and figuratively!”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat in a quieter voice.

He leans into the truck and demands to see your ID card and insurance so he can “make a report.” You don’t even know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.

“Please, I’m really sorry!”

He yells again, and you flinch. Had this been 5 seconds or 5 minutes? It was all a blur. The adrenaline is coursing through you and making it hard to hear over the pounding in your ears. He looks at you expectantly. He must’ve asked a question and you missed it. You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. He laughs, completely devoid of amusement, and shoves a pointed finger in your face. You don’t even hear what he’s screaming at you. You can just make out the furious twitch and pull of his expression, spit flying as he berates you.

And then, he’s gone. Like a giant cane pulling an act off stage, he launches backwards and out of the truck. You shrink onto the floor of the passenger seat and huddle down. The shrill whistle in your ear eases up, and you hear Joel shouting something. There’s someone else shouting, too, but it sounds pained and pitched. Surely that wasn’t the same man who’d just been in the doorframe screaming at you. It sounded so distressed. The loud roar of an engine and then tires peeling against concrete erupt from somewhere behind the truck. It’s quieter again.

The passenger door swings open to reveal a panting, panicked Joel. His eyes lock on yours, and you’re no sooner scrambling up to grab hold of him with your entire body. His arms wrap tight around you as you hitch yourself to him, clawing and hooking your limbs around his shoulders and hips.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m right here,” he says over and over. You slump into him, your body melding against his however gravity sees fit, and breathe in the grounding scent of him. His arm is braced against your back and locking you against him. He shuffles forward to rest you on the edge of the seat so he can look you over for any signs of injury. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head side to side, fat tears spilling over with the movement, and pull a shuddering inhale that catches a few times before it takes. “No, h-he was just p-pointing in my face and yell-yelling.”

“Fuckin’ monster,” he hisses under his breath.

A few beats pass as you steady yourself. The abrupt hostility of it was most upsetting, and you tell yourself over and over again in your head that the threat has passed. Joel switches between looking you over for injuries and pulling you against him and rubbing your back.

“And to a fuckin’ woman, too. Goddamn coward ain’t no man.”

Joel’s unwavering, southern gentleman trope come to life commentary makes you giggle despite the circumstances. It catches him off guard as much as it does you. You sniff and brush your arm across your eyes. “Just, like… s-something about you being equally offended that he did th-that but also that he d-did it to a wom-woman is funny to me. S-Sorry.”

Your lopsided smile makes the drying tracks of your tears crinkle on your skin. Joel’s head inches back a little, bewildered and amused at the sharp turn in mood, and smiles a laugh. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m-I’m okay, I think. Just shook me up a little,” you say in a firmer tone.

He sizes you up for a moment and nods, satisfied with whatever clarifying bit of information he’d pulled from your demeanor. “I mean, it is worse that he’s a man doin’ that to a lady,” he emphasizes as though you weren’t entirely understanding where he was coming from.

You close your eyes and grin. “Joel, you’re just, like, the epitome of southern gentleman no matter what. It just struck me as funny. That’s all I meant.”

“I don’t think women are inferior,” he insists with a pleading look in his eye.

“No, I know that. Look, you– this conversation is going sideways. I know you don’t. I-I like how you are with m–how you are with women,” you quickly correct.

He smiles tenderly at the quick switch, obviously catching your original, unfiltered thought. “Just think some things should be taken care of, is all. Nothin’ manly about treatin’ a lady bad. Drives me up a fuckin’ wall.”

You sniff and hug yourself a little closer as the adrenaline starts to fade. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to th—”

“I know. I want to,” you interject. “So, thank you.”

He sighs and rubs a few circles on your knee where it’s bent against the edge of the seat. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Anytime. M’just sorry it happened at all.”

“Not your fault.” You shrug and poke at the side of his thigh as he drifts closer to you again. “Besides, you showed up in time. You came to my rescue, right?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He peers off at nothing in particular in the distance before fixing you with an earnest look. “You know if you needed somebody to show up for you, I’d show up for you. Right?”

You swallow down the wave of warmth budding from your chest and nod. “Yes.”

“Good. ‘Cause I need to know you understand that.”

“I do.”

He considers you again like he’s making sure you’re not just saying all this to appease him. He looks over his shoulder and leans back. “Alright, you ready to get outta here?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He makes sure you’re situated in your seat and shuts the door for you before climbing into the driver side and pulling out of the lot.

It made him sick to his stomach every time he thought about how frightened you’d been. You were jumpy in the truck for a few days after but had settled down since. He hated to think what could’ve happened to you if he hadn’t been walking out at that moment. It makes his chest tight to imagine if he’d decided to just walk around the store for a minute to look for something else rather than just going in to pick up what he needed and heading right back out like he had.

He’s sure it was driving you crazy to have him constantly checking in on you, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know you were alright. He hadn’t planned on telling you that he’d always show up for you, but it was so compelling in the moment he couldn’t stop himself. You looked like you believed him. God, he needed you to believe him. To understand how fucking deep this went because he was awash in all of it without any understanding of how it’d happened so fast.

He hadn’t known you long enough to justify this sense of duty and devotion he had for you. This innate need to protect and care for you. You were plenty grown enough to take care of yourself, and you didn’t need some old man inserting himself into your life. But he just couldn’t stop.

At first he told himself he was simply showing you gratitude for helping out in the work bind Jenn had left Miller Contracting in. But you’d been around for a few months now, and his sustained level of interest and appreciation felt less and less appropriate for somebody just showing thanks to a new employee who’d stepped up when the company needed it.

He was wrestling with himself even now as his hand hovered over the send button. He shouldn’t be texting you like this. He shouldn’t be pushing for more than what was necessary for work. Even Tommy had picked up on it and given him a little talk about “just being careful with it” as if Joel was some idiot teenager who let his dick do all the thinking.

Joel hated it even more because Tommy was justified with everything he’d said. How you were younger – a lot younger than Joel. How things were weird because he was the boss and you were under him. How even if everything was above board and two consenting adults were venturing into something romantic, there was still the optics of “fucking the secretary.” Joel had winced when Tommy put it in those terms, but he understood why he’d phrased it so harshly.

There were so many things that screamed this isn’t smart, but Joel couldn’t ever find anything to convince himself to turn away from you. It felt like he was hurtling towards the sun and accepting the burn if it meant a moment of warmth.

He sighs and hits send. Your text bubble pops up almost immediately.

Joel: What would it take to convince you to help me wrap these Christmas presents?

You: idk how big are the gifts

Joel: Normal sized? I dunno. There’s hot chocolate in it for you.

You: do you even have hot chocolate lol

Joel: I could if that’s what it would take to convince you.

You: haha you’re actually so ridiculous You: be there in a min

And there it was. The reason he couldn’t stop himself. You gravitated to him, too. He knew you felt it, too. He didn’t know if you felt it as deeply as he did, but there was no denying it existed for both sides. And as much as you liked to poke fun at his traditional southern gentleman tendencies, you sure seemed okay with being looked after that way.

He hoped you understood where it came from. It wasn’t ever about sticking to gender norms or playing a part. It was just expressing an intention of care and devotion to someone that deserved it, to honor a beautiful, strong woman with the sort of reverence she inherently deserved.

At least, that’s how he’d been raised. It was hard to shake when it felt so good to take care of somebody, to offer protection and something solid and strong to someone who maybe wanted to lay their defenses down for a little while. To be the safe space for someone to not have to keep those walls up all the time. And in return let him be soft and attentive and competent and strong.

It felt good to be someone a woman could trust, especially in a world as fucked as this one. And when it was more than just being friends, it felt special to be that sort of man for a woman in all those ways, too.

He waits by the window for you like some sort of creep, unable to miss out on the way you glide up to his house on that old bike of yours. He should really get you a new one. He wonders how much of a fuss you’d make over it before just accepting the gift. He meets you at the door and doesn’t even chastise himself over appearing too eager to see you again after wishing you a goodbye and a good weekend not even 20 hours ago.

“Hey, Goob,” you greet with a wry smile.

“Pluck,” he greets back with matched energy.

His heart beats faster and swells with joy when you let yourself in. You felt comfortable here. You felt comfortable with him. An odd sense of pride takes root in him knowing you feel safe with him and recognize even in a subconscious way that you belong here with him. Together.

He grips his thigh from the inside of his jean pocket in an effort to keep his mind from wandering into such ridiculous avenues. He had no business with those sorts of possessive feelings on top of everything else he felt for you. You said something to him, but he had to ask you to repeat it because he was so fucking distracted.

“I said, were you just planning on kicking back and watching TV while I did all the wrapping?”

You point to the TV playing some random, old Christmas movie he can’t even remember the name of. “Oh, no. Just had that on. Was too quiet around here, you know? Good to have some noise.”

Why was he so flustered today? Where had his cool, collected back and forth with you gone? It was like this attraction to you was making his brain rot with it the longer he held it in.

You seem almost flattered that you being here was helping it not be so quiet, like you felt honored in some strange way that you were being asked to be present and just exist as yourself in a space. That impression is further enforced when he asks about what sort of movies or shows you’d like to watch instead.

“Oh, I don’t really watch too much stuff, honestly.” You lift and sag your shoulders so loosely it’s obvious you’re trying to be flippant about it. “My dad sort of prefers the quiet. Work gets him stressed or whatever. Just likes things to be quiet unless he’s got something on.”

“You don’t watch anything together? Y’all don’t like the same stuff?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess we just like different stuff.” It’s a stiff delivery, and you busy yourself with searching for the tape and scissors in the box of wrapping supplies Joel had brought down. He hadn’t even really intended for you to wrap anything. He would’ve been happy to just sit on the couch together and shoot the shit over some schmaltzy Christmas classic in the background. You seemed like you invited the distraction of it, though – something to blame for your diverted attention away from the curious things you were sharing about your homelife.

“Well, d’ya think you’d like watchin’ more movies? Or TV or whatever?”

He can’t ask the things he really wants to, like why on earth you aren’t allowed to watch the TV in your own damn house or why you have to exist in silence just because your dad calls for it. If he ever tried to pull that with Sarah, she’d laugh in his face and tell him to get a grip.

“I dunno. Maybe. Probably.” You sit for a moment and pick at the ribbons. “Yeah. I think it could be nice.”

He wants things to be nice for you, and he wants to be the one to make them happen. It should be done right. You deserve that much. He can do things right for you. He can do right by you.

Christmas morning is just like any other morning, except it’s a weekday and you don’t get to see Joel. Not a great start. Then of course your dad had sprung the news on you yesterday that Denise and her two young kids were going to be coming over, so the house needed to be “presentable.” He’d been spending more and more time with them, and you could only imagine the sort of lines he was feeding her. It wouldn’t be any use trying to warn her about his true colors, though. She was decidedly frosty towards you for some reason. You didn’t much care to have a relationship with her or her kids, anyway.

Your dad is awake and dressed in a nice sweater, mulling around the kitchen and straightening things that didn’t need it. “You look nice,” you offer up in a show of keeping the peace for the day.

His eyes glide over to you and give you a once over. “Wish I could say the same. Can’t you put something else on?” His nose wrinkles at your sweats and tshirt.

“I’m still in pajamas, dad. I’m gonna change,” you explain.

He snorts and goes back to his pointless tidying. “Maybe it should be a bit of a wakeup call that I can’t tell the difference between your pajamas and your regular clothes.”

You don’t rise to the bait. “Maybe.”

You just shrug your shoulders and mosey towards the fridge to look for something to nibble on before you have to fake your way through the day. You eye your dad’s perfunctory inspection and correction of your work from yesterday and bite back the nasty comment you wish you were brave enough to make. He’d of course been missing the entire afternoon as you swept and scrubbed and cleaned. All to put on some show for his girlfriend and her kids.

Deciding it might be best to know what the schedule was for the day so you could play your part, you ask if there’s any sort of itinerary. He must have some nervous energy he’s looking for an excuse to take out on you because he scoffs and throws a demeaning scowl in your direction. “What do you think they’re coming over to do? What do people do on Christmas, genius?”

You once again swallow down the urge to scream in his face. How were you supposed to know what people were “supposed to do” on Christmas when you’d never had a “normal” one in your entire life? Keeping your calm as you chew a small bite of food, you finish and deliver a neutral response. “Unwrap gifts? Eat something?”

“Always knew you were brilliant,” he snorts sarcastically. It’s derisive and upsetting – just as he intended.

You wander into the living room and stop in your tracks when you see the shiny pile of presents under the sparsely decorated tree. You scold yourself for the flash of hope that tears through you, thinking and wishing that maybe there was something under there for you. But you hadn’t gotten your dad anything. What if he’d gotten you something, but you didn’t get him anything? He’d be upset, wouldn’t he? That would be selfish. Even though you weren’t supposed to exchange gifts. That just wasn’t something your family did.

“Don’t touch them,” he snips from behind you. You jump, unaware that he’d followed you. “Don’t want you getting crumbs and fingerprints all over them.”

The subtext there was of course that these gifts were not intended for you. Your heart sinks, and you want to admonish yourself for even being stupid enough to hope for a moment that anything your dad put effort into would ever be for you.

Something spiteful and angry brews in your stomach. All those sparkling, shiny gifts for two kids that weren’t even his. Hell, they weren’t even his step-children. You and Calum had never had a Christmas that looked like this. Your bitterness bubbles over when you consider that your dad never had a reason to lovebomb you both when you were already stuck with him anyway.

“Lots of presents for two kids,” you remark before you can talk yourself out of it. It’s a mistake to voice anything akin to negativity, though. You should know better by now, but the hurt of having to watch two other children live out the sort of childhood you’d never had was just too much.

“They’re good kids,” he snipes back pointedly. “And you better not say a fucking thing, either. I already told Denise we don’t exchange gifts like that, so nobody is gonna listen to your little pity party over no gifts. Got a damn roof over your head for free and you still find something to bitch about.”

“I wasn’t complaining! I was just saying it looked like a lot!”

“You need to quit running that mouth of yours, little girl,” he warns.

“Dad, I’m trying to say that if you got them more than Denise got them, it might make her feel bad,” you lie and clarify in an attempt to smooth things over.

He fixes you with a nasty smile and gestures to the gifts. “Guess what, genius? They’re from me AND Denise. Christ, you’re a real fuckin’ piece of work, you know that?”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. There’s no way you would’ve known that, but you still somehow feel stupid anyway. The embarrassment quickly bleeds into resentment. “So, what? I’m supposed to sit here and watch two kids I don’t even know open gifts from people that aren’t me? That’s so weird, dad. Come on,” you huff.

You know this surge of indignation is only going to land you in hot water, but you can’t seem to stop your mouth from running a mile a minute. Perhaps you were bolstered by the fact that somewhere in your subconscious you knew he wouldn’t do anything - not today, at least - with their impending arrival. A wrecked house and a wounded daughter weren’t exactly what you wanted when you were trying to sell a fairytale to some woman.

“They’re going to be here within the hour. You have 20 minutes to get the fuck out of the house and stay gone until I tell you that you can come home. Do you understand?”

“What?! It’s Christmas! Everywhere is closed! Where am I supposed to go for half the day?!” you stammer

“That’s for you to figure out.”

“I’ll stay in my room, okay? I’ll shut the door, and they won’t even know that I’m—”

“No. You should’ve thought about that before being disrespectful and showing how fucking selfish you really are. You were too busy running your mouth instead of rubbing two brain cells you’ve got left in that heard of yours together to form a singular, smart choice. All I know is that I’m not gonna have you ruining this just like you ruin everything else. Get your shit and get out.”

He turns on his heel and stomps back to the kitchen. You scramble to your room to collect your wallet, your phones, your keys, a hoodie…. You grab whatever you think you might need that doesn’t weigh your backpack down too much.

You change into whatever clean pair of jeans and t-shirt you can scrounge up. You’re out the back door before your dad decides you shouldn’t come back until tomorrow or some other harsher punishment.

You don’t know where to go except for the office, and the entire bike ride there gives your mind nothing but time to whip itself into even more of a frenzy. Why couldn’t you just shut up this morning? Why did you let yourself be so surprised over his shitty attitude and hurtful words? Why hadn’t you just played along and kept the peace?

Your thoughts are a full-blown whirlwind by the time you get to the office. You punch in the wrong code at first and set off the alarm because of course you do. A new wave of panic slams into you when you remember that the system sends alerts to Joel’s phone and will call him to verify a false alarm. You get it together long enough to push in the right passcode, but you aren’t sure if the alert has already gone to Joel’s phone. You scurry inside and fish your work phone from your bag.

You: hey if you get an alert about the security system at the office it’s just me 🤦‍♀️ You: punched in the wrong code like an idiot You: merry xmas 😬

Your stomach drops when his contact picture takes up the whole screen.

“Hi, I’m sorry,” you groan.

“The hell are you doin’ up at the office? How the hell’d you even get there?” He sounds concerned and befuddled at the odd situation.

Your brain is fried from everything that’s already transpired thus far today, and you contrive some story about forgetting a gift at the office and trying to sneak out of the house and grab it real quick before anybody noticed you were missing.

“You biked all the way up there?” he sputters. “You shoulda called me, sweetheart. I woulda drove you!”

“Joel, it’s Christmas. I’m sure you’ve got stuff going on with your family just like I do with mine,” you lie.

“Not until later, but that don’t matter anyway. What’re you doin’ takin’ your bike that far? That’s not safe.” He sounds like he’s actually upset with you for once, and you can’t take it. Not today.

“Look, I’m extra careful, okay? Besides, I’m just popping in to get the gift and heading back out. It’s a quick trip.”

You hear keys jangling and the scoot of something against hardwood over the receiver. “You stay put. I’m comin’ to get you.”

“Nope, already on my way back out,” you lie again. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. I promise I’ll call you the next time, alright?” He doesn’t respond, and bile starts to lick up your throat. “Joel, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m just ignorin’ that ridiculous statement like I’m gonna let you bike all the way back home.”

“Joel, I’m in a rush! I gotta get this gift back home, alright? I’ve already got everything packed up and am heading out now. I appreciate the offer and everything, but I gotta go,” you assert in as firm a voice as you can manage. Your hands are shaking with the effort of keeping your nerves in check.

He grumbles something that doesn’t sound much like he approves before speaking clearly again. “Fine. You better text me when you get home safely, you hear me? I mean it. The second you get home.”

You hold back a sigh of relief and promise to text him when you get home. You practically crumple to the floor when the call ends, anxiety overwrought and mind going so fast it might as well be empty. You estimate how long it would take to bike home and text Joel once the window closes.

You: made it home You: sorry again about the alarm

Joel: It’s fine. Glad you made it home safely. Please don’t ever do that again! Call me next time!

You: ok ok I won’t! 😳

Joel: Good. See you in a couple of days. Joel: Merry Christmas, Pluck. Joel: 💚❤️

You: happy xmas Goob ❤️

Your limbs feel like they’re strapped to concrete blocks as you plod towards the back of the building to Joel’s office. His jacket hangs from the hook just inside the doorway. You pull it down and take it with you as you cuddle up in one of his plushier chairs. You bury your face in the smell of him until you’re able to drift off and forget about your life for a little while.

Sleep had been elusive over the past couple of nights, most hours spent tossing and turning with the events of Christmas playing on loop in your head. It was the cherry on top of the shit sundae to come home later that evening and learn that your dad had proposed to Denise with a big, flashy ring. Just another way of making it clear that you weren’t worthy of his resources and attention and that he was steadily building a new life. A life without you. A life that left you behind, just like everyone else always did.

You push away the nagging thought that money from your account was put towards the ring as you sit waiting for Joel to pick you up. You look awful, no doubt about it. He wouldn’t say anything, but you were sure he’d notice.

You’d never felt like it was work to be around Joel, but keeping all of these disruptive changes to yourself felt like a unique sort of agony. He grew more attuned to your moods and feelings the more time you spent together, and, while that had once felt like a breath of fresh air to not have to explain every single little thing to someone for once, it now feels like a cloud over your head that you have to duck to avoid.

His truck rumbles up the driveway and comes to a stop. He’s out the door and opening yours before you make it down the front steps. You misjudge his body language and go in for a hug. It’s clear you’d misread it with all your inner thoughts flying every which way when he lets out a surprised little exhale. He quickly recovers, though, and wraps his arms around you with a quick, smoothing pass of his palm against your back. It’s like your subconscious needed this, needed the closeness and stability of him, and puppetted you into his broad, solid frame.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he hums.

“Morning.” You step back and rub a nervous hand along the nape of your neck and climb into the truck.

His mood feels buoyant and light, like the interior of the truck is five times bigger just from trying to contain such a vibrant air in such a small space. You latch onto it and siphon as much as you can into your own mood.

“So, did ya get anything good?” he asks, eyes glittery with something eager.

“Oh, mostly gift cards,” you bluff. “I’m sort of hard to buy for I guess.”

His eyes slide over to you in a dubious slant, but he doesn’t comment. “Hm, so whatcha gonna get yourself?”

You weren’t expecting the question, and it makes you hesitate. “Oh. Um. Not sure yet.”

“Hm.”

“Um, did you get anything good?”

“S’gonna sound cheesy, but the best thing I got was just gettin’ to spend some down time with family. Got to see Sarah and Ben for a little bit longer than I expected, so that was real nice.”

You’re aware of your rapid, unnatural blinking, but your brain feels like it’s short circuited a bit. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle talking about family right now, especially if it was the warm and fuzzy kind of bond.

“That’s cool,” you offer up weakly.

Joel’s face flickers confusion, but again he doesn’t remark on your reserved conversation. “So, what did ya have to bike back with anyway?”

“What?”

“The gift? You went up to the office to get a gift, but you never said what it was. I was hopin’ it wasn’t too big for you to lug back since, you know, somebody wouldn’t let me drive them home.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. The fake gift for your dad. The dregs of your mental fluidity and deftness weren’t producing a convincing answer like they so often did when you found yourself in need of some believable excuse or story.

“Book,” you blurt out.

“A book?”

“No. Um. A few books. A series,” you stutter.

You suddenly feel wide awake now and on edge at the flimsy alibi that just tumbled from your mouth. Even a series of books could’ve been hidden at your own house. There’s no reason to have them stored at the office. You’ll just have to say you forgot it.

Wait, isn’t that what you’d already told him? You’d told him something already when he spoke with you on the phone that day. Had you said you were storing it there on purpose and had just forgotten it? What lie had you already fed him?

Joel sits in a contemplative silence as he drives you to the office. “What’s the series called?”

It’s an unassuming question, but you feel the probing connotation beneath it. He was fishing for something. He was suspicious. You weren’t lying well enough.

“Um, The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly.”

You don’t know why your brain went with a Western that you vaguely remember watching as a young kid, but now you’re stuck with it.

His lips purse, and he clicks his tongue softly as he turns into the parking lot. “Never knew they were books.”

“Oh, yeah. The movies are from the books. John Wayne was a huge fan of them. I’m pretty sure that’s why he got involved with the movies. Turned out to be a pretty good move, I think. Launched him into fame for sure. Staple cowboy from then on.”

“Well aren’t you just a trivia trove,” he chuckles.

You shrug and force a smile. Your heart stops pounding so hard when it seems like he’s moving away from the topic. You can’t believe you managed to remember so many details about the series. Conversation shifts into easy small talk as you both head inside. You just about descend into a panic again when Joel asks you to step into his office for a minute. Had you left his jacket out? Had you not put the furniture back the right way? You’d been so careful when you were leaving to make sure nothing was out of place.

“Is everything okay? Did I do some–”

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the shiny blue bike propped against Joel’s desk. He’s beaming and holding his arms out like he’s presenting a prize on a gameshow. He adds a little tah-dah! for good measure.

“What is that?”

“Merry Christmas.” His smile is impossibly wider. “It’s a few days late, but, yeah. Little Miss I’m Too Hard To Shop For. Pppfffftttt. Think I did pretty good, huh?”

Your mouth doesn’t work. Your tongue isn’t cooperating. Your lungs are taut and fixed.

“Are you serious? This is–Is this for me?” you breathe.

“Yep,” he replies plainly with an emphasized pop on the P. “D’ya like it?”

You inch towards it and don’t even want to mess it up by touching it. “This is too mu–”

“We ain’t doin’ all that, so you can cut that short,” he interrupts.

You’re shaking your head when he grabs something from his desk. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”

Your eyes bug out at the small box of bluetooth headphones he handed you.

“Sarah said it should connect with the work phone, and once we get some apps on there you can use my password. I don’t got all of ‘em, but I think there’s a pretty good selection.”

“What?” you ask a little breathlessly.

“Streaming apps or whatever. You know, movies. You said you wanna watch more movies, so you can just pop the headphones on and watch it from the phone this way. Won’t be too loud and all that for your house. Figure between the two of us we can figure out how to get all of it set up.”

He rocks on the balls of his feet before leaning against the desk. Your mouth feels like you’ve been chewing sandpaper. “But… I.. didn’t get you anything?”

“So?”

“I didn’t get you anything. And-And you got me something, though.”

“Yeah, I got you somethin’ because I wanted to. Don’t need anything in return. And I’m the boss, so I’m callin’ it boss privilege that you can’t feel bad about it. It’s against the rules.” He folds his arms across his chest and grins at you, all boyish and clearly pleased with himself.

You’re still shaking your head when he stands upright again and pokes at your side. “C’mon. Let’s see you take a spin on this thing before everybody else gets here. I’ll load it up in the truck after so we can get it home today.”

You’re stunned into silence at his persistence that you enjoy this – just let it feel good for once. He walks the bike out of the office and calls over his shoulder to you. “Give you five bucks if you can pop a wheelie on this thing!”

His goofy challenge spurs a laugh to bubble out of you. You feel lighter, like each breathy laugh had expelled part of the weight you’d been shouldering lately. You jog to catch up with him. “Make it ten and you’ve got a deal,” you bargain.

He smiles wide at you and agrees.

“Are you sure you can’t walk in the sparkly ones?” Kenzie asks for the fifth time.

“I dunno, Kenzie. Do you want to deal with me spraining my ankle or falling on my ass halfway through this thing?” you lob back at her pointedly. “Besides, the tights have rhinestones all over them. That’s plenty of sparkles.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine. Just saying they would be a lot cuter.”

You’re well aware that the almost flat “heel” of hers you’d decided on wasn’t the most sexy pair of shoes to go with the staticky, clingy dress you’d picked from her closet, but you didn’t want to spend your entire New Year’s Eve worrying about looking like a newborn giraffe every time you had to walk. Then again, this event was sure to have plenty of stumbling drunk people, so maybe if you did wobble here and there you’d fit in just fine.

“What was the theme again?”

“I think Monte Carlo or Casino Royale or something. I dunno. It’s not even real gambling since that’s illegal in Texas or whatever, so it’s just like you can earn chips to put towards a raffle or something. I have no idea. I just know we’re gonna be with the Double Phoenix setup most of the night,” she explains.

She applied a heavy swipe of glittery shadow to her lids and leaned back to assess her work. Seeming pleased with it, she started on the other.

“I’m not even planning on drinking to be honest since this is sorta like a work thing. I mean, I’m not, like, technically with the company or this account, but I could be. It’s sort of weird with the whole internship thing. I think it’s like a test or something, so we gotta make sure we’re paying attention.”

“And Double Phoenix is the name of the company?” you clarify.

You wanted to get this right for her. It wasn’t often that you were invited out for things like this. Turns out your more sober tendencies were perfect for something like this since Kenzie was approaching it as a networking opportunity rather than a wild night of partying on somebody else’s dime.

“I don’t know what the parent company is called, but the vodka is called Double Phoenix. I guess after Logan and Charlie – that’s who we’re gonna be with most of the night. It’s their first alcohol brand or whatever. Just coasting off the success of Trial By Fire to be honest, but don’t tell them I said that.”

You don’t even know enough about Trial By Fire – the dating game reality show Logan and Charlie had been on that saw them rise to fame quickly as fan favorite “loveable bad boys” – to even say anything about it, but, regardless, you assure Kenzie that you won’t tell them all the disparaging remarks she’s made about them. You busy yourself with putting your hair back in a few glittery clips while she finishes up her makeup. You opted for as little as possible so you wouldn’t accidentally rub your eyes or lips and smudge all of her hard work.

You mess around with your hair for a little bit until you get the half up half down look presentable enough. You turn your head to catch the light on the sparkly claw clip Kenzie insisted you had to wear. The little dangly fringe pieces glittered in the light whenever you moved your head, much like the little crystal dangly bow earrings she’d shoved into your ears. “It ties together with the bow shoes you picked,” she’d said. You inspect the black velvet slingback pumps and their neat little bow on the back of your heel.

You take the opportunity to assess the entire look in the full length mirror when Kenzie wanders into her bathroom for god knows what. She was smaller than you, but the black cinched dress had a little bit of give.

“Is there, like, a fancy cardigan or something that goes with this?” you ask. “I feel like I’m gonna get cold.”

Based on Kenzie’s reaction, you would’ve thought you’d just asked her to name every single pope in chronological order while jump roping to the beat of deli meat going through a slicer. Her mouth is hanging open in what you think is disgust but might also be a heavy dose of disbelief.

“A cardigan?” she chokes.

“Can you not?” you half-heartedly snip. “It’s not outrageous to just wanna be warm, Kenzie.”

She sighs and shakes her head, hands raised to the side like she’s doing a quick meditation for the distress you’d put her in.

“Babe. Babe,” she starts. She takes a deep breath and looks at you as if she’s trying to reason with some wild animal who’s stumbled upon her picnic in the woods.

“What keeps us warm are the thoughts of how bomb we’re gonna look in the pics, okay?” she says slowly and clearly like she’s explaining a difficult math problem. “No cardigans. This isn’t study hall, babes. We’re gonna work with nothing but these cute as hell ‘fits, okay?”

“Oh my god,” you grumble under your breath. It was bad enough this dress didn’t have pockets, which meant you had to carry a tiny purse (called a clutch for some reason), but now you were gonna be cold, too.

“It’s one night of sacrifice for an eternity of hot pics, okay? When you’re, like, 87 you’ll be able to look back and say ‘thank you, god, for giving me a friend like Kenzie who didn’t let me ruin my Hot Girl Outfit with a librarian’s jacket’,” she proclaims like she’s the Shaman of Thirst Traps.

You snort and roll your eyes but can’t hide the emerging grin on your face. “Yeah yeah. Fine. You’re the expert.”

She claps her hands together victoriously and lets out a dramatic exhale. “Ugh, yes. Finally, you get it. Let me be your guide, okay? Besides, I bet you won’t be complaining when you send Joel a little pic and get his reaction.”

“Um, no?” you sputter. “I’m not sending Joel of picture of myself in all this. He’s gonna know it’s all borrowed, anyway. I would never have the nerve to buy or wear something like this on my own.”

“Um, yes?” she argues back. “Ain’t nothing borrowed about you in that outfit, okay? It’s giving very much ‘I own this’ energy, okay?”

Your chest feels warm and light at the genuine compliments, and you can’t help but agree with her a little. You do feel pretty cute even though you’re not really used to dressing up and going out like this. It felt nice to do nothing but primp and preen yourself for the past couple of hours.

Even Kenzie had an air of excitement about it since this was her first time venturing into a dressy work event. You’d seen plenty of pictures of her “in her heyday” with strappy, tight dresses that showed every bit of glistening skin that was legal to have on display. She looked incredible in all of them, of course, but it wasn’t exactly what came to mind when you thought about career networking.

“You picked really nice outfits.” You shoot her a warm smile that grows wider when she returns the gesture.

“Okay, I was totally freaking out about it, too. Like, obviously I am gonna look good no matter what, but I was so worried that I was gonna end up looking like an Amish lady or something,” she laments.

You can’t help the abrupt guffaw that fills the entire room. “You’re literally wearing a brown sequin minidress with poofy sleeves, Kenzie. I don’t really know how you could be worried about looking Amish in that.”

“First of all, it’s chocolate burgundy. Secondly, they’re ostrich feathers,” she corrects with pretend insolence. “And last of all, I didn’t even have to search through my underwear drawer to find a pair that wouldn’t show in this dress, so that’s basically Amish for me.”

You both crack up at her ridiculous parallels as you check yourselves in the mirror side by side. You might not be as glitzy as she is, but you both go together somehow in a nice little balanced image.

“Okay, let’s go to the backyard to get some pics,” she announces as she snatches your work phone and her phone and prances out the door.

You indulge all the stylized, practiced poses that Kenzie makes as you have a mini photoshoot for her. You smile every time she switches into a new angle and posture. It’s so silly for her to do so many different ones when she looks good in every single picture. She’d argue with you over that, of course. When she declares that it’s your turn to take pictures, you oblige with a few standard poses, which she immediately rejects and insists that you “loosen up a little bit.”

She does manage to get you to genuinely laugh when she retells the story about how your old boss Jeremy most definitely had a lover’s quarrel in the middle of the cereal aisle with what could only be a friend of his grandmother’s or a sugar grandmomma. He’d been so embarrassed even though you both wouldn’t have had anything nasty or negative to say about it. A few “eat me out, sonny boy” jokes between yourselves, sure, but nothing to his face.

“Okay, just a few more.”

She fiddles with the settings on your phone, explaining to you how your flash exposure wasn’t set right and other jargon you don’t fully understand, and takes a few more photos once she’s made the necessary adjustments.

“AAAAnnndddd, done!”

“I don’t even post anywhere, Kenz. I don’t know why I need so many pics,” you protest.

She just shrugs and sports a shit eating grin, which you don’t understand until you receive a notification on your phone that Joel has texted you. The mortification takes hold the second you open to the text thread and see that Kenzie had sent him several of the photos she’d taken of you.

Joel: WOW! Joel: 🤯 Joel: Where are you going dressed to the nines like that?

You: omg I am SO SORRY my stupid friend sent those to you like an idiot You: she’s such a moron sorry You: idek who she was trying to send those to

Joel: I like the pictures. They’re really nice. 👍 Joel: You look like you’re already having a good time. Joel: You have a ride set up for tonight? Lots of dangerous drivers on NYE.

You: we’re not drinking but also Kenz ordered us an Uber

Joel: Okay well please text or call if you need a ride. I’ll be up. Joel: Be safe and have a fun time! Joel: 🪩🥳🥂💃🕺

You smile down at your phone and giggle. You’ll remember to be upset at Kenzie in a minute.

You: I will 🫡 You: are you staying home the whole night?

Joel: Yep. Tommy is probably gonna come around for a bit, but otherwise I’ll just be watching TV or something. Too old to be out there partying. Might throw my back out if I tried to dance to the popular stuff.

You: lol I would pay so much money to see that

Joel: I bet you would, ya little punk.

You: 😇

Joel: Okay, angel. And you never said where you were going.

You: here 📍

You attach a link to the venue where Kenzie said the event was being held. You explain the circumstances of it because it’s a lot nicer of a place than most twenty somethings would probably go, especially for such a big party night like New Year’s Eve.

Joel: Pretty nice place. Looked it up on Facebook. Says it’s a charity casino night. Invite only. 😵💰🎰

You: yeah idk we’re just gonna be there with this vodka brand from Kenzie’s work You: she does this marketing internship thing and this vodka is a client

Joel: Fancy. Already sounds like y’all are some high rollers. 😎

You: lol maybe Kenz is. im just the plus one You: you should see her outfit then maybe you’d know what i mean 💀

Joel: Nah, you got sparkle tights. That’s the winner right there.

You: wow a fashionista too is there anything can’t you do?

Joel: Yeah, I already told you. Dance ha ha. Joel: 👴🏼

You: i highly doubt that but ok You: we gotta leave in a few but ill text if i need anything

You punch in a heart emoji but hesitate for a split second before throwing caution to the wind and sending it anyway. Your entire body warms at his reply.

You: 💖 Joel: 🥰❤️ Joel: I’ll be thinking about you. Joel: Be safe. ❤️

You: i will 💖 You: happy new years in case i don’t see you sooner

Joel: Happy New Year’s, and I hope you see me sooner rather than later. Want to start my year off right. ❤️

You’re too giddy from texting with Joel to truly be upset with Kenzie, a fact she relishes in the entire Uber ride to the venue. You still feel light as air as you make your way to the Double Phoenix display area and meet the two guys associated with it — Charlie and Logan.

You quickly see why Kenzie hadn’t had a lot of positive things to say about them both even though they weren’t patently terrible right off the bat. Maybe to most people the plastered smiles and forced carefree attitudes would distract long enough to hide the truth of their actual personalities, but you were a little more used to getting a quick grasp on people.

Charlie was younger, but you wouldn’t have known that from all the cosmetic procedures he’d had done. His face didn’t even match with the version featured in all the promotional materials with their images on them. An unnaturally chiseled jaw, lips that seemed plumped and deflated all at once, a marshmallowy cheekbone, and eyebrows that didn’t move enough. It all combined into some strange, plasticine version of a man.

Logan had leaned into the rugged and handsome look quite well, but his teeth were remarkably white to the point that it contrasted with the rest of his visuals. You wanted to laugh at how forced it all was. You knew rugged and handsome well. Joel Miller was the end all, be all to rugged and handsome in your humblest of opinions, and he actually had the life experience that made it authentic. Men hadn’t ever really been much of your “type” - especially not the overtly masculine ones - but of course that had changed fairly recently.

You were grateful that they both zeroed in on Kenzie’s attention and left you to wander close by for a few minutes. The glowing neon and sleek black everything made the entire venue hum with a sort of subdued electricity. You’re sure once the event actually begins and people start showing up that it’ll take on a life of its own as the background to a perfect night of revelry.

You lost track of time for a while as you meandered through the various setups. You can’t begin to guess how much all of this costs to produce and put on. You know without a doubt that you could never afford to get in. With Kenzie’s borrowed outfit, you don’t appear too out of place, and you try to work with the feigned confidence of someone who belonged here. By the time you make it back to the Double Phoenix setup, Kenzie is shooting you where the fuck have you been?! eyes, and you give her an apologetic grimace.

“Ah, there she is!” Charlie booms. He sounded like he’d been sampling the goods, and the stack of empty shot glasses scattered around the tables only lent to that hypothesis. A few frantic looking waitstaff scurried around with rags and fresh glasses. “You wanna do a shot?”

Your face scrunched, reluctant and put off. “No thanks, I’m good for right now. Maybe later.”

“Oh, come onnnnnnn,” he huffs. “It’s fuckin’ New Years! Live a little! Come on, just do a shot.” He starts spinning in almost comedic half-circles in search of shot glasses and liquor. Kenzie is looking a lot like she’s got a headache brewing – but not from any bottom shelf vodka shots. “Tell your friend to knock the sand outta her vagina and take a fuckin’ shot, Kenny!”

“It’s Kenzie, and that’s not a very—”

Logan, who appeared just as sober as when you’d left them all, stepped up with a crooked grin and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Definitely just getting the night started, right? No need to rush a good time, Tank.” He glances over to you and winks, and you think he means to convey that he’s stepping in between you and his rude, pushy friend.

Charlie snorts and taps Logan’s face with a loose, goofy smile. “You’re right, man. Just so fuckin’ PUMPED for this brand, dude!”

Kenzie scoots around to you and guides you away from the front of the setup so you can speak more privately. “This guy is an asshole!” she hisses.

“Yeah, is he seriously already drunk?” you scoff. You note the heavy smell of alcohol on her breath and raise an eyebrow. “Exactly how many shots did y’all even have? You don’t even do shots of vodka, do you?” The last part of the question is up several octaves in uncertainty. Maybe you weren’t a big drinker, but you knew enough that downing shots of vodka was sort of an “alcoholic activity.”

She rolls her eyes and grips onto your elbows. “It tastes so bad,” she groans. “It’s supposed to be ‘so good you don’t need to mix it.’ I honestly underestimated how good of an actor Logan is because he barely even made a face when we were all taking a shot for their Instagram Story. And Charlie? I don’t even think he cares to be honest. He would probably drink hand sanitizer if it gave him a buzz.”

“That’s really sad,” you reply in a low, gloomy tone.

She responds in kind with a cheerless shrug and nod. “I told Logan that we could do a few more shots with some of the bigger local names so they could put it on their socials, but I said we should definitely be cutting Charlie’s shots with water. He was surprisingly cool with it and thanked me for looking out for him.”

“Yeah, that’s smart,” you agree. “How many did you do already? How many are you going to do? I thought you weren’t planning on drinking?”

You try to keep the nerves from creeping into your questions, but a tremor or two slip through. You really, really didn’t want to end up the sole sober person in a room full of rowdy, drunk partygoers. It was more of an upscale setting, but that was never a guarantee that things wouldn’t get sloppy.

“I’ve only had two, don’t sweat it,” she assures you. “I’m totally good to take a few more, especially if they’re spread out.”

“Okay, just be careful. That Charlie guy seems a little aggressive.”

“I think he just likes to party.” She shrugs and eyes the two men who don’t seem to have noticed your side conversation yet. “C’mon, let’s get back before they see we’ve snuck off.”

Kenzie wrangles Charlie into doing a few staged photos around the setup – you assume before he gets even more drunk and won’t photograph well – and Logan strikes up some easy conversation with passersby before wandering back over to you. He shoots you another apologetic grin and holds a hand up in an awkward wave.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry about Tank. He gets a little nervous for these types of events sometimes and hits the bottle a little early and a little too heavy,” he explains.

“Tank? Why’s he called ‘Tank’?”

He flushes with a sheepish grin and admits it’s from “one crazy weekend” where he repeatedly wound up in a “drunk tank.”

Your nose scrunches and pulls against your unimpressed frown. “Charming. Sort of goes with the whole telling women they have sand in their private parts thing he’s got going on.”

He squints and grimaces. “That was totally out of line. I’m really sorry.”

You sigh and let your shoulders slink down. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding them so high and tight. “I guess it’s not your fault he’s got a problem.”

“No, it’s not my fault, but I should probably do a better job of stepping in before he goes around disrespecting women.”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks off. He mindlessly watches the crowds of people walking by the setup and waves to a few before turning back to you.

“Well, uh, I’m Logan. Just in case you didn’t– um, you know, didn’t catch it before. And I, uh, hope you have a good time with Double Phoenix tonight even if it started out a little rocky.”

He sounds genuinely embarrassed by his friend. Maybe you’d misjudged him at first. You give him the benefit of the doubt and a small smile. He flushes again and busies himself with chatting up some local DJ who stopped by to do a promo shot with the brand.

It’s much the same for the next hour and a half, except you notice that Logan and Kenzie both have taken several shots with numerous local celebrities. Logan at least has enough sense to remind everyone to drink water in between and munch on something. He goes around and checks on the waitstaff to make sure everything is running smoothly. You think without his legitimate interest in this brand, Kenzie would be running in circles trying to keep things on track.

You pull your work phone from your clutch. It’s somehow only 9:00pm. You suppose you had arrived before the event even started, so it’d been at least 3 hours of this. You can’t imagine another 3, but you’ll push through it for Kenzie’s sake. You’re about to tap on the messaging app to see if Joel had sent anything when a shadow passes over the screen. You look up to see a more lax Logan smiling down at you.

“Event's that boring huh?” Yeah, he’s definitely a little drunker than when you’d last talked.

You look around for Kenzie and spot her talking animatedly to some random woman in the brightest neon green dress you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh, I was just checking the time to make sure Kenzie was still on track,” you bluff.

“Gotcha, gotcha.” He nods and runs a hand through his hair. “So, uh, you want a drink or anything? I can just get you a soda or something if you didn’t want to try the vodka.”

Something about the way he says it sounds like he’s already disappointed at what he thinks your answer will be. You feel bad, but you don’t know why.

“Listen, I know it’s not, like, the bestest there is, but I think we did a pretty good job of it. I’d love to hear what you think of it,” he hedges.

One shot won’t kill you you remind yourself. You shrug and agree to a single shot with a sugary chaser. He beams like a golden retriever and lopes off to grab your drinks. You smile at his back as he runs off. It’s sort of cute how excited he seems. Maybe he really did give a shit about all this and had to deal with a business partner who didn’t do much of the legwork. He’s back shortly with a canned soda and two double shots for each of you.

“Whoa, that’s way too much!”

He stares blankly at you for a second and then shakes his head like he realizes he’d gotten double shots. “Shit, that’s my bad. Hold on, I can—” He turns to look for somewhere to dump part of your shot out.

“Look, I’ll just have half, okay? You can have the rest or throw it out or whatever. Or give it to Charlie. I dunno.”

He laughs at that and gives you a cheers. You swallow down a little more than half by accident, and you think it must’ve been the shock at how god awful the taste is. Whatever Kenzie had said, it was ten times worse. You choke your one and a half shots down and grab for the canned soda, snapping the tab open and chugging down several large gulps. The sting of the vodka still burns as you watch Logan down your half shot as well as his two doubles. Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline at the amount he’s downing in one go.

“Aren’t you gonna get sick?” you sputter.

He giggles a bit and takes the soda from your hand, downing the rest of it. “Eh, I’ve done all the brand commitment stuff. I’m sort of off the clock now.”

You blink at him and wonder how the hell that’s supposed to explain how he’s not going to be throwing up in about 15 minutes.

“You make me nervous,” he giggles.

He leans in a little, only to list backwards and wave a hand in the air. He erupts into a fit of laughter and covers his face with his hands.

“Christ, I’m so sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you all night how beautiful you look, but I didn’t really feel like there was a good opening after, you know, Charlie went and talked about your sandy vagina.”

His eyes bug out like he realizes what he’s said, and he slaps a hand over his mouth. It might be the alcohol surging into your bloodstream, but you laugh at how ridiculous it all is. He chortles behind his hand and flushes a million shades of red.

“Fuck, I am so fucking sorry,” he gasps. “I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful, and then I just said sandy vagina and I’m really really sorry, and I’m, like, very sure your vagina is probably perfectly fine and doesn’t have any sand in it.”

You giggle even harder at his distressed stream of consciousness. “I-Well, thanks and all, but I’m – I don’t really mix business and personal, you know?”

He nods like he perfectly understands your position. He puts his hands up in surrender and gives you a sort of bow before kissing your hand. “I’m– I understand. Definitely. No worries at all. And thanks for trying the vodka even though it’s shitty.”

You laugh loudly at that and wave him off. He chuckles to himself and strolls over to the bar area. You take your time walking to Kenzie, who jumps up and down when she sees you. Not wasted, but definitely not sober.

“That vodka tastes fucking awful!”

She grabs your forearm like you’d just said the most profound thing she’s ever heard. “Yesssssssss ohmygod.”

You hug onto her for support as she whispers in your ear about how she’s got a really good feeling about the impression she’s made with the brand and how this could be a huge opportunity for her. You commiserate together how nasty the taste is but both agree that she sort of had to do shots for social media unless she wanted it to look like she didn’t enjoy it. She snorts and rolls her eyes when you relay the flirty, drunken conversation that Logan tried to have.

“He probably isn’t used to being turned down,” she posits. “S'prolly good for him to hear 'no' every once in a while.”

You giggle and lean against the counter for more support. You felt very warm now – cardigan debate all but forgotten – and a bit like you need to pee. Knowing the extra effort it’s going to take for you to get the tights down enough to use the bathroom, you excuse yourself sooner rather than later.

Everything is a lively haze of big energy as you make your way to the bathrooms. One of the main raffles is taking place, so you don’t even have to wait in line. You eye yourself in the mirror and think you still look pretty good. The little bit of alcohol you had is in full effect now, and you hope it starts to ebb soon.

You make your way out of the restroom and stumble when you hear the excited cheers from the main dancehall. Someone must’ve won something big. You lean against the wall for a minute until you feel more certain these shoes won’t cause any issues.

“Sneaky, sneaky thing,” Logan giggles from beside you.

You jump at the sudden voice coming from the dimly lit hallway. “Jesus christ you scared me,” you hiss.

“Sorry sorry. Just had to take a leak and then had to sit down for a minute. Mighta had too much.”

He seems bigger somehow even though he’s slanted to one side. Maybe the alcohol making him so loose was also making him seem unrestrained, too. “Soooooo, you coulda just asked me to follow ya know?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he saunters closer.

“Huh?”

“Earlier? You said you weren’t interested, but-but- and then I see you sneaking off to the bathrooms. Coulda just asked me to follow you, and I woulda.”

“No thanks,” you exhale.

“C’mon you don’t gotta put up a front, 'kay? Your friend won’t get jealous if she doesn’t see us, right?”

“What are you talking about?” you groan.

His body is up against yours, pressing you into the wall. “Let’s mix up a little business with a little pleasure,” he purrs. Your entire body freezes up, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “It’ll feel real good I promise.”

“Logan, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you insist. “M’not interested in–”

“Ssshhhhh,” he coos. “You can quit pretending. Be good 'n I’ll let you take a pic during to show all your friends, 'kay?”

“Get off me, you creep!” you hiss with a shove, but his body doesn’t budge. Another round of applause and cheering comes from the main hall.

“Let'sssssee,” he slurs. His thigh parts your legs just as his hands go underneath the sides of your skirt to grope your ass. “What kinda panties you got on?” He starts to lift your skirt above your hips when you knee his groin with as much force as you can. He doubles over and staggers backward. He chokes out bitch! a few times before vomiting all over the floor. You hurry away to find Keznzie, heart beating a million times a minute. She’s at the bar doing yet another stupid shot.

Between her drunkenness and your flustering, it takes several agonizing moments before she grasps what you’re saying – that you’ve been assaulted by somebody and left him on the ground near the restrooms. She’s looking around for security and asking you what the guy looks like. You tell her again it was Logan. Her body stops mid-movement like some sort of eerie robot that’s been unplugged. She blinks a few times like she misheard you.

“Logan? Logan Logan?”

“Yes!” you practically shriek.

She’s hesitating now, no longer hellbent on finding security, and you can’t figure out why. Where had all her urgency gone? Why had her entire mood just shifted? Why wasn’t she comforting you?

Then her eyes meet yours, and you see it. The reluctance to make a fuss over it because of who it was. The mental math to calculate that it wasn’t right what he’d done but that it hadn’t “gone too far” and he hadn’t “gone all the way” with it. The hesitation to hold off on involving security if this all sounded like a drunken misunderstanding between two people that didn’t need to be escalated. The sort of “mistake” that could be fixed with a few sober apologies.

“Kenzie…..," you whisper.

Like she’s on a sinking ship that’s quickly taking on too much water, she shakes her head and grabs your upper arms to pull you closer. “This will blow all my chances with this brand and maybe even the job.”

Her eyes are pleading for you to understand the position she’s in, what all she has to lose by taking up for you in this moment, and the gut wrenching realization that you’re not worth it to her begins to sink in. She sways a little on the spot and hiccups.

“He’s–He’s prolly so drunk he doesn’t even know what he was doing,” she pleads.

“You sure you’re not so drunk you don’t know what you’re saying?” you snap back. “Because I’m pretty sure a bad friend would tell you to drop it when somebody just had their hands all on you.”

Her nostrils flare at the accusation. “Well maybe a bad friend would make her best friend lose her whole future just because some guy felt up her butt, like that doesn’t happen all the time on the bus and in clubs and, and, and everywhere!”

“All you care about is yourself!” you hurl at her.

You turn on your heel and stomp your way to the exit. Tears blur the edges of your vision, but you’re enough of a mess that people sort of make way for you until you emerge from the building and into the cool night air.

You’re shaking. Your brain is a soupy mess as the alcohol starts to wear off. You pull out your work phone from your clutch. It flashes 9:48. How on earth had so much gone so wrong so quickly?

You fumble through some of the apps and end up downloading several rideshare apps, but they’re all crazy expensive because of the holiday. You can’t risk that large of a transaction showing up and your dad seeing it. You’re not even sure how far of a walk it would be to get home, but you don’t want to go home, either. Your dad was probably out, but you didn't want to risk it.

You shiver and stare at the homescreen.

If you needed someone to show up, I’d show up.

That’s what Joel had said after that guy confronted you in the parking lot. And then tonight he’d said to call if you needed a ride or anything. You don’t have much of a choice, but even if you did, you’d still choose Joel.

You find his contact and hit call.

The influx of pictures of you all dressy and smiles was the perfect distraction. He’d been mulling over the lies he’d caught you in, and it was making his head buzz.

You’d lied about the gift for your dad. Clint Eastwood — not John Wayne, like you’d claimed - had starred in The Dollars Trilogy. A Fistful of Dollars, A Few Dollars More, and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. All screenplays, never books. He’d grown up watching enough Westerns to know that much.

That was plenty of proof that you weren’t being entirely upfront with him, but he didn’t understand why. When he went into the security system profile and checked Christmas day, his heart sunk when it showed you hadn’t left when you claimed and in fact didn’t set the alarm again until several hours later.

He tries not to take it personally that you were lying through your teeth over very strange things, but it was hurtful and made him feel a little foolish for some reason. He knew in his gut that you were an honest person, so he could only assume the only other thing that made sense was that you didn’t trust him, which stung in a particularly painful way.

At this rate, he didn’t believe that you even got any gift cards. You didn’t give the impression that you gave much thought to your own wants and needs. It’s like it’s been drilled into your head to put yourself last every time.

He sighed and flipped through the pictures you’d sent — or, rather, your friend had sent on your behalf. The one where you were smiling the biggest was a little blurry, but it was his favorite nonetheless. He’d set it as his homescreen background without a second thought.

He was letting himself get lost in how stunning you looked in the photos when a call popped up. It was you. After the surprise of receiving a call from you wore off, he hit answer and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Um,” you sniff. “N-Not really.”

His whole body goes rigid at the sound of your trembling voice. “What happened? Where are you?”

“Um, I’m still at that same place I sent earlier. Do you— Can you come get me?”

He’s snatching up his keys and starting his truck in a flash. He stays on the line with you until his headlights reflect and sparkle across the glitter on your tights. He hops out and gives you a quick once over, looking for some sort of hurt. He draws you up into a hug and helps you into the truck.

“What happened?” he breathes.

“Just, um, had a fight with my friend.”

“Is she okay in there? Does she have a ride home? Is she hurt?”

As honorable as his concern for Kenzie’s safety and wellbeing was, something about it irked you. She hadn’t given you any support, so why on earth did she deserve any? Maybe being drunk and left to deal with those jerks on her own would change her perspective. Maybe Logan would hurt her, too, and then she’d have a different opinion on what constituted a big enough violation to be addressed. You instantly feel guilty for thinking it, but the anger doesn’t entirely subside.

“She’s fine,” you grumble. “I don’t really wanna talk about it if that’s okay.”

“Sure, of course,” he soothes. “Let’s just get you home, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna go home,” you whisper, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t hafta go home. You can come stay with me, alright? Is that okay?”

You nod. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Of course. Of course ya can,” he insists.

The drive to his house is quiet, and he keeps stealing glances your direction. You keep your eyes fixed on the road, fearing that looking him directly in the eye again will crumble all your resolve and you’ll fall into a million pieces and tell him everything – all the rotting, ugly truths of your secret life.

He pulls into the drive and helps you out of the truck and into the house. You let him lead you as you walk unevenly in your heels. He guides you to the living room couch and slips your shoes off. He gives your feet a firm, kneading rub when you wince.

“Feet hurt?”

“Yeah.”

He massages them for a few beats, and you realize it probably hurts his knees to be bent on the floor like that.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah.”

He leads you upstairs and shows you the guest bedroom — Sarah’s old room that still had a lot of her personal decorations and items throughout. He leaves you for a moment and returns from his room with a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a button up flannel. He asks if you need anything for a shower, and, despite feeling utterly drained, the thought of washing this day off you is too appealing to turn down.

He digs around the hallway bathroom, which you learn was Sarah’s once upon a time, and pulls various toiletry items out from the cabinet. While there aren’t any shower specific items, there is a bottle of cosmetics remover and a roll of cotton pads, and you gather them up alongside the borrowed pajamas to take with you to Joel’s bathroom.

He gives you a quick rundown on how the shower works and leaves it running before slipping out the door to give you privacy. His heavy footsteps descend the stairs, and you’re struck by how alone you suddenly feel. You carefully extract yourself from Kenzie’s dress and tights and set them on the vanity. You strip away your undergarments and toss them into a pile near the corner.

You don’t bother adjusting the temperature of the water. You leave it just how he’d left it running for you, and it beats down onto your itchy, too tight skin with a purging heat. You lather in his soaps and shampoo and feel like you can breathe easier with it fogging up around you. It felt safe. Your hands dip to your hips, groin, and backside, and you hesitate for a moment before rushing through the area. You can still feel Logan’s insistent hands on you.

You rinse off and drip dry for a few seconds. The dry, fluffy towels wrapped around you make things feel normal again for a fleeting moment. The cosmetics remover and cotton pads clear away the streaking mascara and flecks of makeup left behind. You look in the mirror at your naked body and feel like you should be able to see the traces of unwelcomed touches painted onto your skin in bright, blood red. Your bare form reflects back to you, and you force your attention away and to Joel’s clean clothes he’d left for you.

The sweatpants are cozy and worn down. The flannel is soft like it’s been worn a million times. You roll the cuffs on the flannel and do the same to the sweatpants a few times, giving the strings a pull to cinch them on tighter, until your feet and hands aren’t flooded in fabric. The smell of him on the clothes only heightens as your body heat warms the fabric.

Wanting to be lost in the scent of the real thing, you head downstairs and find Joel in the kitchen with a tall glass of water and freshly made sandwich. He opens his mouth to say something but falls short as he eyes you. He swallows thickly and meets your eye again.

“Clothes alright? I know the sizing is a bit off.”

“They feel really good.”

“Good. Good.” He clasps his hands together and moves aside to gesture towards the food.

He gives you the option of sitting at the table or sitting in front of the TV while you eat. You opt for the latter and start on your sandwich as Joel flips through the channels until it lands on the Ball Drop Countdown. You sit quietly together, but you can sense the weight of unasked questions emanating from him.

“Guest bedroom look alright? Everything you need in there?” He’s being sincere, but you can tell he’s trying to fill the silence with something.

“It’s really pretty in there. Sarah has really cute taste.”

“She does,” he agrees with a crooked grin. “Kept up the girly stuff for way longer’n I thought she would. I always had a soft spot for that kinda thing, I guess. Kinda made it feel like my little girl wasn’t busy growin’ up and gettin’ ready to head out into the world without me.”

“Do you… Does she see you a lot?”

You aren’t sure why you’re asking or why you want to know. Some part of you is maybe just a glutton for punishment to hear about families who don’t hate each other. Or maybe just confirmation that such a thing was possible.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like, but I shouldn’t complain. She calls all the time, and that helps. Video calls and all that, too. Makes the distance feel shorter, you know?”

You nod like you do know, but you’d never had such an experience. You would kill for a video call with Calum. You weren’t going to think about that right now, though. Not on top of everything else that happened tonight.

As if he could sense the direction of your thoughts, Joel carefully asks if you want to talk about what happened. You think for a minute and then shake your head no.

“That’s okay,” he reassures you. “No pressure. Just wanted to ask in case you… I dunno why. In case you needed m–needed someone to talk to.”

You hold back a smile at his near slip. In case you needed me. And, you do very much need him.

He takes your empty plate and glass without asking, double checking that you’ve had enough before taking it to the kitchen and then settling back onto the couch with you. Without the task of eating and the personal space required to do so, the distance between you both felt infinitely larger than before he left. Your hunger is sated with the food he’d made, but something still stirs in your gut.

The memory of tonight still clings to you. Logan’s mask slipping to reveal the devil beneath. Kenzie deciding that you weren’t worth the risk of jeopardizing her future career, even if it was with men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

You can still feel the ghost of Logan gripping your flesh and turning up your clothing, the stench of his alcohol laden breath clouding your nostrils and making you want to choke. You want to erase it. You want your body to forget the sensation and experience of it. Maybe you can replace it with a different sensation, a new experience. Something to take the place of Logan’s shadow lingering on you.

“Joel?”

He turns to look at you, mouth all pouty and parted with concern. You want to lick into it so badly. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something weird? A weird favor?”

“Of course ya can,” he urges. He angles his body to give you more of his attention. “I’m sure it ain’t weird. What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m–Can I just—” You falter as you try to figure out how you can ask him to act as a prop in your recreation of tonight just so your body can be tricked into believing it never happened. “If I ask you to–to hold me a certain way, could you do that?”

His brow knits together like the hesitant phrasing of your question betrays its innocuous veneer. “I can do whatever ya need me to do, sweetheart, but it might help if I knew what exactly—”

“Please?” you ask so quiet you’re surprised he caught it.

His lips purse, and his body relaxes in defeat. “Of course.”

You wordlessly crawl along the couch until you’re almost on top of him and swing a leg between his. You ignore the way your crotch feels hot and needy against his warm thigh. You gently guide his hands to your hips and backside, urging his fingers to splay wide enough to engulf the globe of your ass and meat of your hip. He tenses like he’s going to ask if you’re okay or if you’re sure about what you’re doing or if this is a good idea, but you don’t let him get to it.

“Please,” you breathe – beg.

He relaxes again.

You slump your body against his and nestle your forehead against the crook of his neck. He feels so impossibly large beneath you, all warmth and brawn and safety. Under different circumstances you’d probably be dripping with arousal by now, but instead your body starts to succumb to the enveloping cradle of his hold. Your breathing evens out, and you think somehow this might actually be working. You can pluck the rotting seed of tonight straight out of your body’s scorecard and plant something that won’t devastate the soil and overtake the sparse sprouts that already exist.

The loud snap! and boom! of fireworks jolt you awake. Joel snorts an inhale and opens his eyes comically wide before blinking quickly. His hands are still on you. Your body is still on him. You’re still safe.

“Nodded off,” he mutters almost to himself, voice thick with sleep. He glances lazily out the window as neighboring houses send off fireworks that probably aren’t street legal. “Damn things are loud.” His head lolls back to face you, and he’s sporting a tired, goofy grin. “Happy New Year’s, I guess, huh?”

You fist the collar of his shirt and crash your mouths together. You’ve been awake for less than 30 seconds, and all your brain can churn out is to take take take.

You meant to take it slow, or maybe you didn’t. You aren’t even sure as you rock your body against his until he comes alive beneath you, hands flying up from your hips to brace against your back and pull you closer against him. His tongue is warm and wet against yours, taking his time to explore you and taste you. He swallows down your hitched moan, groaning in response with a hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

It’s over just as soon as it began when a particularly loud boom breaks the magnetic spell that took over you both. You slowly pull back and release the hold on his shirt. He’s staring like a deer in headlights, and you’re sure you aren’t much different.

What the fuck just happened? Why did you do that? What compelled you to do it like that?

“Um, well. Um. Happy New Year’s. And, um, I guess I’ll – I’m shou–I should be getting to bed, I guess. So–” You awkwardly extricate yourself from the couch and give an awkward wave. Joel just stares back at you dumbfounded.

You wave again like an idiot. “Okay. Um. Happy New Year’s. Um. Goodnight.” You force yourself to walk normally up the stairs and not slam the door to the guest bedroom. You can still taste him on your lips, all echoes of Logan faded into nothingness.

Thank y'all for waiting on this one. The first draft was much shorter, but I just felt like I wanted to flesh it out significantly more than what I had originally written. It feels right now, and I hope you have the same feeling after reading it.

tagging:

@survivingandenduring @bizarrelove-triangle @cumberpegg @verybigvag @koshkaj-blog @pastelpinkflowerlife @toomanystoriessolittletime @walw1017 @tuquoquebrute @confusedpuffin @reneerocks3617 @ellenmunn @electriclasso @pastelnap @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @copperhalfcent

#fic: chrysalism #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #hurt/comfort #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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wangxianficfinder · 8 months

Text

Curses, Potions, and Spells (Oh my)

~*~

Curses

shape me something new by perilously (E, 24k, WangXian, Sharing a Body, set in CQL canon but inspired by the novel, Non-Penetrative Sex, Masturbation, (kind of), Slight Canon Divergence, some horror-adjacent imagery)

come home to my heart by occultings (microcomets) (M, 29k, WangXian, Bodyswap, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Misunderstandings, and a little bit of hurt/comfort as a treat)

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX’s Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, The Juniors love their Senior Wei, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling)

Turn Left by kianspo (M, 204k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, eventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Neurodivergent LWJ, Slow Build, Lán Family Feels, specifically, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, lwj-centric, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

You'd Break Your Heart to Make It Bigger by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 32k, WangXian, soulbonding, First Time, Case Fic if You Squint, Fools in Love, soul boning, soft fools in love, Pining while fucking)

This Lantern Shines For You by apollonie (M, 10k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, LWJ is a Disaster Gay)

leading tone by silencemostofall (G, 32k, WangXian, Modern AU, Soulmates, with a lil twist, Eventual Happy Ending, lesbian wq rights, Music, Orchestra, platonic and romantic pining)

pastel by antebunny (G, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Soulmates, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unrequited Love, but not actually, no courtesy names)

Stainless by Fahye (E, 6k, WangXian, Sex Pollen, Yuletide Treat)

as amber of ember glows by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Sex Pollen, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, First Time, Miscommunication, Aphrodisiacs, pining for the person you're fucking, Getting Together, mostly)

miss me once the thrill expires by idrilka (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern With Cultivation, Getting Together, Pining while fucking, Curses, Sex Pollen, Rimming, Multiple Orgasms, first time barebacking, Face-Fucking)

Say So by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 15k, WangXian, Sex Pollen, Fucking Your Best Friend, Light Dom/sub, extreme orgasm denial wanxgian edition, Dirty Talk, Love Confessions)

🔒Embers by xantissa (E, 38k, WangXian, XiXian, WangXianXi, Jadecest, Angst, drama, Fluff, Falling In Love, sex pollen trope (curse), dub con, Comfort, Grief, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Sibling Incest, Switching, Flirting, Learning to live again, Magic, Curses, Everyone is Badass, lwj has a sense of humor, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome - M/M/M, Slow Burn, Angst and Hurt/Comfort)

a safe pair of hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Body Worship, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Sharing a Bed, Getting Together, First Time, Curses, Intimacy, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved LWJ)

So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend (E, 13k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Confessions, Drunkenness)

❤️ to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, soulmates, chronic illness, hanahaki disease as a curse, feelings realization, angst, fluff, smut)

🔒How to Seduce the Yiling Patriarch by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 8k, wangxian, post-canon, temporary amnesia, case fic, fluff & humor, crack treated seriously, angst, jealous WWX, YLLZ WWX, gusu lan junior dynamics, mild gore)

Your Hand in Mine by cerbykerby (T, 20k, WangXian, Humor, Comedy, Pining, cursed to hold hands, Light Angst, Sharing a Bed, First Dates, Embarrassment, Fluff, bathing together, wwx is a menace to society, and lwj Suffers A Lot, Canon Compliant)

with such a suffering, such a deadly life by cqlorphan (T, 7k, wangxian, post-canon, curses, curse breaking, getting together, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, affection, touch-starved LWJ, LWJ whump, cuddling & snuggling, love confessions)

in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad)

Of Curses and Cottontails by Alliandra (T, 15k, wangxian, canon divergence, burial mounds settlement days, curses, animal transformation, rabbit LWJ, angry bunji, fluff & humor, fix-it, golden core reveal)

🧡 Discarded by teawater (E, 169k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YL WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it's not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ)

Under every sky, in every way by naqaashi (M, 13k, wangxian, curses, curse breaking, mermaids, fix-it of sorts, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, secrets, confessions, hurt/comfort, golden core transfer fix-it, genius WWX)

Lover's Curse by littlesystems (E, 15k, WangXian, Fuck Or Die, Dubcon implicit in fuck or die, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Cultivation Sect Politics, Brotherly Meddling, WWX Has a Rape/Non-Con Kink, Bruising, Overstimulation)

The Heart Always Remembers by thelamespaceace (G, 45k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Deaged LSZ, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fluff, Angst)

🧡 moonlight caught in mutton fat by Raitelzen (T, 45k, WangXian, Case Fic, Curses, Curse Breaking, Transformation, mild body horror, Hurt LWJ, Ghosts)

A Curse of a Different Color by nickel710 (G, 35k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Curses, Curse Breaking, Asexual polyamory, Repressed LWJ, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drunk LWJ, Falling In Love, WWX Being an Idiot, Non-explicit vomit, just a tiny reference to it, Anxiety)

🔒 the cow says moo, the chicken says squawk, and the demon beast of yiling says by Dragonskye (T, 57k, wangxian, Ensemble Cast, Animal Transformation, Angst with a Happy Ending, kind of a glucose guardian vibe actually, Fairy Tale Elements, Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, they're soft, Secret Identity, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining)

The Sun Will Rise series by vespertineflora (E, 129k, wangxian, Fantasy, Fairy Tale Elements, Human/Monster Romance, Tentacle Monsters, Plant Monsters, Tentacle Sex, vine sex, Vines, Monster LWJ, Human WWX, Mildly Dubious Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Eventual Romance, Slow Romance, Happy Ending, Groping, Edgeplay, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Prostate Massage, First Time, Multiple Orgasms, The Cloud Recesses Rabbits, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Homesickness, Angst, Comfort/Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Canon-Typical Violence, WWX Has a Rape/Non-Con Kink, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Overstimulation, BAMF WWX, Stabbing, Near Death, Poisoning, Protective LWJ, Seduction, Aphrodisiacs, Snow and Ice, ,Snowball Fight, Lost Love, Falling In Love, Drunken Kissing, Sex Pollen, Submission, Subspace, Multiple Penetration, Love Confessions, full body restraint, Emotional Sex, Reincarnation, Sounding, Urethral Play, Prostate Massage, Multiple Orgasms, Shameless Smut)

🧡 Kitty-cat by canis_lupus (E, 78k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, dom LWJ, Sub WWX, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jiang Family Dynamics, Abusive Jiang Family, POV Multiple, WWX Has ADHD, Autistic LWJ, Masturbation)

Breaking the Silence by Leffy (E, 4k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut, 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Rimming, Come as Lube, temporary mute wwx is still a gremlin)

~*~

Potions (includes poisons)

Losing My Mind by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Humor, Protective JC, JC drinks a potion that lets him hear people's lustful thoughts, Teenage LWJ has a lot of feelings, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses study arc)

🔒Truths Laid Bare For All by Preludian_Staves (T, 42k, wangxian, arranged marriage, not Jiang friendly, truth serum, love confessions, golden core reveal, implied referenced abuse, getting to know each other, genius WWX, falling in love, courting, WIP)

pomegranates for the softest parts of you by AvoOwO (M, 24k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Fluff and Angst, LWJ Has a Crush, POV LWJ, Protective LWJ, Pining LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, Courting Rituals, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Poisoning, Dorks in Love, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Mind Manipulation, Manipulation, JC and LWJ Dislike Each Other, Good Sibling JC, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt, Supportive LXC, Supportive Sibling LXC, Good Uncle LQR, LQR Metaphorically Qì-Deviates, Mentioned Madam Lán, Blood, Fainting, Soft WangXian, Cute WangXian, Dubious Consent, Feelings Realization)

Truth to Tell by SequoiaSempervirens (M, 3k, WangXian, Getting Together, First Kiss, Fluff, silliness, Truth Serum, Kidnapping, Worried LWJ, Protective LWJ)

🔒After Truth Lies the Honest Path by Vrishchika (M, 10k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Truth Serum, Angry WWX, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Mild Angst, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Getting Together)

Potion by UglyBeautiful (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Canon Divergence, College/University, Witchcraft, Love Potion/Spell, Idiots in Love, LWJ Has a Big Dick, LWJ has a very dirty mind, Anal Sex, Rimming, Compulsory Heterosexuality, licking vegan marshmallow paste off a naked body, Happy Ending, Scheming NHS, Ghost familiar with many guises NHS)

Love potion and a remedy for the heart. by satans_dolly_boy666 (G, 2k, XiXian, WangXian, Love Potion/Spell, Misunderstandings, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Brotherly Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Friendship/Love, Declarations Of Love, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Jealous LWJ, Protective LXC, Oblivious WWX, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Supportive Sibling LXC, Soft LXC, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Eventual WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Crack, Attempt at Humor)

scope and limitations by mercurials (T, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, chemistry major wwx, Love Potion/Spell, Fluff, Mutual Pining)

At the bottom of the bottle, you're the poison in the wine by KatAnni (T, 11k, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, WWX & WQ, Fainting, Angst, Poisoning, JZN is an asshole, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It, a little poisoning will solve all your problems!, Hurt/Comfort, POV Multiple, Attempted Murder, Everyone Lives AU, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence)

~*~

Spells (includes talismans/arrays)

The Way It Wasn't by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic (E, 30k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Pining, Getting Together, Time Travel, Night Hunts, Hurt wwx, Mystery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Use Your Words, Mutual Pining, Depression and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratuitous use of empathy)

hope dangling by a string by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives, angst w happy ending, hurt/comfort, psychic bond, telepathy, communication, emotional/psychological abuse, jiang family feels, lan family feels, canon-typical violence, canon-typical politics, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing)

🔒I am sorry for taking your voice by misterfish (G, 8k, WIP, WWX/OMC, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Remorse LWJ, Mute WWX, Jiāng Family Bashing, Past Child Abuse)

Couldn't Scream Couldn't Shout by mermorgie (T, 42k, WIP, WangXian, Not for jc stans, Muteness, Sign Language, references to selective mutism, Homophobic JC, canon jc characteristics, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Pining, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Supportive Sibling LXC, JZX Tries, LQR Tries, Protective JZX, Scheming NHS, Bisexual JZX, LWJ is Bad at Communicating, WWX Has ADHD, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Jiāng Family Bashing)

Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k wangxian, JZX & JC & WWX & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, WWX's canonical comfort with the prospect of his own death, Hurt/Comfort, JZX makes friends, Eventual Happy Ending, some unhappiness along the way, Canon-Typical Violence, JC keeps his golden core, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Minor Character Death, Kissing, WWX Lives, no golden core transfer, JZX Lives, Fix-It, WN Lives, Weeping, temporary major character death, Murder Road Trip, Implied Sexual Content, Sunshot Campaign, Nonbinary NHS, Telepathy, platonic group soulbonding, Family, Found Family, POV WWX, Podfic Available, Siblings Sworn Brothers, aroace JZX, Happy Ending, all the Wen remnants live, POV JZX, JGY is less murdery, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, JZX's social awkwardness, Poison)

on his best bee-haviour (pun very much intended) by HeavenlySkyfarer (T, 4k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Modern With Cultivation, Humor, Fluff, Good Uncle LQR, Gremlin WWX, Bees, Established WangXian)

all the broken things that I made by ilip13 (E, 43k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Lovers To Enemies, (then back to lovers I'm not a monster), Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, But mostly not in the way you might expect - see notes for details, Explicit Sexual Content, Bondage, Flirting, Competence Kink)

~*~

#wangxian #wangxianficfinder #curses poisons and spells (oh my) compilation #mdzs #the untamed #long post

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fairy-switchblade · 10 months

Text

Hi! I’m a femme. My partner is butch, and previously identified as stone butch but has been gradually moving out of that label over the past year. Something which has been really important for our relationship, and their healing, is having an emergency plan for when they become triggered especially as they have been re-evaluating their boundaries. I have a slightly different emergency plan from their emergency plan; mine is designed to help me help them, as a partner. I thought I could share it, as it might help somebody out.

❤️🚨the triggered state emergency care plan for a partner 🚨❤️

Identify - Recognise your person is triggered. This can be a little different for everybody, so if you’re not sure I suggest discussing with partner what a triggered state might look like for them at an appropriate moment, when they feel secure and comfortable to have that conversation. My partner is often but not always non-verbal when triggered. They will have stiff, controlled body language, sometimes not moving. They will not respond towards the sound of my voice, or touch. They will not seem like themself. They will stare at nothing. They will often be very pale and clammy. It can be quite scary if your partner presents like this- but do not panic! Take a nice deep breath and remember they’ve got this, and you’ve got this.

Remove - remove the trigger, as much as possible. Be calm and clear about what you are doing. My partner and I agreed that when they are in a triggered state, I have their permission to move their physical body away from what is triggering them if necessary, for example if they are on top on top of me I can roll them safely off and away from me, or get them from a chair to the floor. Please do not offer or suggest this if you are not confident that you can physically move your person safely and without potentially re-traumatising them. Do the best you can; there is 0 shame in not agreeing to do something if you’re not sure you can do it. The key thing here is that because my partner and I both know they may be unable to consent in the moment, we have establish an ongoing prior consent agreement in the interest of their safety. We both understand the risks involved, and have discussed the best approach to mitigate the risks. This is understandably a very difficult and complicated topic for them to discuss, so establishing this has taken a very long time- and I suggest you take your time talking to your partner about what they want as well. Examples of removing could include switching off the TV program or music, immediately stopping any kind of physical activity that had been happening (doesn’t have to be sexual but it could be), or removing something which has a particular touch or scent. I will always tell them what I am doing, regardless of whether they respond. It might be that this is a new trigger or you’re not sure what’s triggered them. Stay calm, and logically assess what happened immediately before. Chances are you can make an educated guess- for example, your partner might have gone into a triggered state in the middle of you watching TV together, something thats normally fine. What was on TV? Were you cuddling up together? If you’re not sure whats triggered them and they can’t tell you, don’t get too wrapped up in trying to figure it out. You can reflect on that later- right now you just need to do your best, and focus on them getting grounded back into the present.

Ground - Once the trigger is mitigated, I help my partner use their preferred grounding techniques. These are methods to help relax their nervous system and bring them back to the present moment. I can maybe make a separate post about what these are if anyone wants them. We have practiced their grounding techniques together, and expect their techniques to evolve over time. Sometimes it is enough for me to just sit and observe whilst my partner does their grounding alone, other times they need me to gently prompt them or do the grounding with them. I will speak calmly and clearly to my partner and maintain relaxed body language. I stay with them and let them know I’m going to stay. I respect their personal space. I let them know what I am going to do before I do it, and remain focused on their evolving situation.

Soothe - through grounding, my partner will come back into themselves slowly. They are usually tired, and not very talkative. At this point I offer compassion and understanding. I ask them what they need, ie: “would you like your warm blanket” *nods head* “okay I’m going to grab that for you. I’ll be upstairs for 2 minutes.” I might offer a soothing touch if they indicate they’d like that- more typically I would let them come to me and ask for it rather than suggest this. This is very often running my fingers through their hair, or gentle arm scratches with my long nails. Following a period of disassociation, I would encourage my partner towards self-care. They prefer to be alone for this, so I give them space. I do household bits and bobs so they’re not burdened by it later, like meal prepping and filling up their bike.

Re-assess - I check back in on my partner later. Once they’ve been triggered they will be affected by it for some time afterwards, and are more likely to go into a dissociative state again. If that happens remain calm, and go back through the process.

Reflect - I will invite my partner to come to me for reflection on what happened when they’re ready. In the meantime, I will take time out to privately reflect on it. I talk to my therapist and use my journal, and my art practice. I acknowledge everything that my partner being triggered brought up for me, and how I feel now. I observe my feelings without attaching to them. I make note of what worked and what didn’t, and try to recall what happened before, during, and after my partner was triggered. I do this away from my butch. They might speak to me about their experience of it, and they might not be able to. I accept that I am always learning and so is my butch, and I show myself compassion as we work this out together. You’ve got to remember you cannot care for your partner if you are not also caring for yourself!

Disclaimer: I do not suggest that this is for everybody, and I strongly recommend you seek support from a trauma informed healthcare professional if you’d like advice on supporting a loved one on their healing journey. I have learned so much over the past year and I am learning all the time- there is no such thing as the perfect supportive femme with this, and it is important you show yourself compassion, keep learning, keep communicating with your partner, and keep trying your best!

#This was long sorry!#I hope it’s at least a little helpful for someone hopefully #Trauma #stone #stone butch #butch femme #butchfemme #butch/femme #femme4butch #butch4femme #queer trauma #butch lesbian #butch #Femme #femme lesbian #stone identity #Trauma management #Advice #mental health

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keruimi · 5 months

Note

Hey! I think your requests are open, but if not please feel free to ignore this!

I was just listening to Too Sweet by Hozier and had the idea of a reader who has a crush on (or is dating) Nishinoya and feels like she doesn’t deserve him

Falling In Love With Him

Pairing: Nishinoya x Reader

Warning: Comfort

Note: To write an angst story, I need an edit of them but I can't find anything so writing this is quite difficult but I seem to manage. My apologies if I decide to use another song for your request. But Thank you for the idea!

_____________________________

Admiring one of the best players in the school sports club is much more difficult than what I have thought. No matter how friendly he is to the people around him. Approaching him is like a damn challenge.

When a timid girl like me is the one who started to like him.

I was hopelessly in love with Nishinoya. Because I can put so much effort for him.

From the food I secretly give to him through Yachi. The notes I put on his table before he arrives back on class.

The nights I stayed awake just to think what I could do for him again.

Yet confessing was never one of them.

I once thought of it until I accepted that I am not deserving of him.

I can't taint a loveable man like him.

My mind is full of negativity. It feels like there's no positive things around me unlike him.

I am just an average student who is only good at one thing.

And that is my studies. The thing that made me feel like I am no one without it.

I keep chasing the academic validation I needed that I thought I shouldn't be in a relationship with anybody.

It was one of the reason why I never pursue the libero further.

I knew I couldn't give more than he deserve.

I'm Kazue Y/n, an average girl who can't have a leading man like him.

Until Intrams arrive. The time I feel like God showed another sign that I need to believe in.

A chance to move so I can obtain my happiness. And that's him.

A long week of Intrams gave me another chance to see him play in the court without getting scared that he would find out about it.

My eyes during his matches were always in him that I started to think...

Can I go closer to him? Can I close the distance between the two of us?

Can I take this secret admiration further?

"I'm so lost" I muttered while letting my body move on its record as customers piled up in our booth.

I sighed in annoyance with how timid I am in his presence yet can't stop thinking and even blabbering about my admiration for the libero.

It feels like all of my classmates knew how much I like Nishinoya. One time, they almost used Takeda-sensei so I can just enter the gym.

But it didn't happen because of the panic attack I had that day.

Yes, I really couldn't face him and I'm not even joking.

It feels like I prefer to move behind the curtains.

I want him to know me, love me like I did.

But I can't dream of it. It was simply impossible for me.

Because I'm scared on the way he would see me. Even though he is not the type of person to judge somebody.

I slap both of my cheeks to focus on the orders placed on the bulletin board.

I can't slack off because this is our test in another subject.

"Y/n!" I heard a male friend of mine call me from the front that made me peek on the curtains to look at him.

"It's time to switch" he told me as he stood up that made me go back behind the curtain to remove the apron I was using.

I planned to be an accountant that's why on this entire activity we are having, being a cashier is what I love the most.

In other words, I love Intrams week.

I sat down in the chair near the cash register to start taking orders when my hands halted the moment I looked up and saw him in front of me.

It felt like my heart dropped from my chest.

I just snapped out of it when I heard chatters behind the curtain that made me take a deep breath to calm myself down.

I can't hate them for this.

"Good Morning! What would you like to have?"

Those were the first words I uttered to him.

The first time we properly met and face each other.

And the reason why I decided to move up my game.

Because I want to feel the same happiness I felt during that time.

I found myself running to the gym where his match would be held the moment I heard their team was up next.

Until I felt like Yachi dragging me to a much better view when she saw me.

There I saw his skills that made me like him more.

I didn't regret admiring him at all.

There are times I urge Yachi to take videos of him so she can send it to me. Times when I couldn't prevent myself from cheering when he received a ball.

Those are the moments I confirm that this is not some puppy love or infatuation.

I did start liking him more than I thought.

I leaned on the wall behind me to catch my breath after all the screaming I did out there.

It feels like I'm more tired than the players.

I heard Yachi chuckling beside me as she lent me a bottle so I could take a sip from it.

"You really like Nishinoya-san" she uttered that I can't help but laugh.

"Yes" I admitted without any hesitations. Because it was true.

I don't know what I saw on him but I can't explain how my heartbeat skipped the times we walked past each other in the hallway.

His cheerful voice never made me get tired of hearing it.

The Man who I want to be with me.

In my eyes, he is my motivation to keep going.

But for him, I am just one of the many who admire him.

If he is just aware of the way I look at him. That wherever I go, he never left my mind. The way I hold back just so I can have the freedom to like him from a far.

Somewhere within me, wish he felt the same way. That no matter how hard I try to abandon my feelings, it just came back stronger than before.

But I don't deserve the love he is giving. Not even a percent of it.

"But he doesn't like me. He doesn't know me, nor look at me"

The same way I did to him.

"I should have been a manager" I joked but we both knew, I wanted more than this hopelessness of watching him from afar.

"But right now, I'm just his fangirl"

I stood up properly from my position and the girl I am with didn't waste any second and just started dragging me without informing me where we were heading.

But I feel like my world slowed down the moment I saw his figure among the crowd.

He was talking to the other players as Yachi dragged me closer, nearer to him who halted from drinking his water when his eyes laid on me.

Is this a dream?

Do I deserve this kind of chance?

"Nishinoya-san!" Yachi called for him and made me decide to stick my feet on the floor beneath me.

I don't dare go further...

Yachi looked back when she noticed I stopped. I took my hand from her as I hid it behind me so he wouldn't see how much it was trembling.

She didn't even give me a chance to bring anything

"Hello to you ladies!" He beamed and I felt how my cheeks warmed from his voice.

The voice I thought I would just eavesdrop from. I never dream that his words would be directed to me at all.

"What did you thought of the game?" He ask us but I knew he was talking to Yachi after noticing how I seem to preserve myself from them.

They could at least give me a warning so I can prepared myself.

"Miss" I flinched when I heard his voice louder and saw he is now in front of me.

Now my feet are also trembling from nervousness.

"Yes?" The stutter from my voice didn't go unnoticed that made him scratch his head.

"What did you think of the game?"

No matter how much I made it awkward for him, he still managed to lift a beautiful smile from his lips.

"You did great..."

I have a lot of things to say but I don't know where to start.

I bit my lips when I felt his silence as I closed my eyes shut.

"So great that I didn't regret admiring you at all"

And then I felt his eyes on me. I wiped the tears that fell from my eyes.

"Please stop staring at me" I mutter in embarrassment when I notice his gaze seems to stay in my trembling figure longer.

"Wow..." He whispered that made me look up to him and saw the shock he plastered on his expressions.

"You like me?" He ask again that made me took a deep breath before giving a slight nod.

Never have I dreamed that I would confessed, especially in public.

He was silent like it feels like he is trying to process everything before a grin lift from his lips and out of nowhere, I felt him twirl me around.

"You don't know how happy I am right now"

His words made my fear disappear as those thoughts that keep preventing myself from admitting my feelings also diminish from my mind.

The only thing that I thought that my feelings were the reason he is happy.

I made him happy.

And a smile finally lifted from my lips.

How did I get so lucky?

~•°•~

"Excuse me everyone, my girlfriend is coming through" his cocky words made me hit his shoulders before I took a seat on the end to not disturb the team more than I intended.

My boyfriend just love boasting me around. Especially to his best friend, Tanaka. Who is now glaring daggers at him.

I didn't mind them anymore and started preparing the first bento I made for him, which I already inform him yesterday.

But it seems like his antics is still not stopping.

"How lucky I am for my girlfriend to prepare my lunch. I don't deserve this"

I started to wish to melt there right now when he keeps pulling the trigger of his senpai's patience and the jealousy of his friend.

I hit his shoulder harder to shut him up and just start eating which he obliged when he notice how red I was already.

"Oh?" I heard him let a small sigh of confusion on his first bite that made me halt from taking my first bite.

"What is it?" I ask him as I put down my chopsticks and saw how he slowly chewed the food.

"Taste Familiar"

I smiled from his words before I started eating my lunch.

"Why does it taste so familiar?"

"Because she is the one who was giving the food to you after practice" Tsukishima's nonchalant statement made my boyfriend look at me.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Oh how much my chest warmed from his words.

I really did win him over

#haikyū!!#haikyuu anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x y/n #hq x reader #hq #hq anime #nishinoya yuu #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #hq nishinoya #nishinoya yū #nishinoya yu x reader

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doryyaaa · 7 months

Note

Can you write Hwoarang x Reader please? It would be nice to see Hwoarang jealous of the reader for being close to Jin

It’s raining hard, and Hwoarang comes home to your shared apartment with an unexpected guest in tow.

“What a pain in the ass,” Hwoarang says, his clothes sopping wet from the rain. Beside him, Jin is in no better state, tugging off his damp boots in the entryway.

“Should have checked the weather forecast before getting on that bike,” Jin says with a slight shake of his head.

“Like you have any right to lecture me. I could kick you out right now.” Hwoarang wags a finger at Jin, who wrinkles his nose like a mildly annoyed cat. Before their bickering could go on, you pop in through the hallway with warm, fluffy towels in hand.

“There will be no kicking in this house,” you say, hospitable host that you are. “Come on in, Jin. Feel free to stay for as long as you need.”

“Thanks. You’re really nice—unlike somebody here.” Jin sniffles. He takes a light punch to the arm from Hwoarang.

“And who was it that so kindly invited you over in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah—”

Hwoarang clicks his tongue. He grabs the towels and throws one at Jin’s face.

“Oh! I’ll make some hot drinks. Would you prefer tea or coffee?” You ask Jin while trying not to laugh at his drooping hair.

Jin pauses to think. Five seconds later, he sneezes into his towel.

“Ugh, gross!” Hwoarang grimaces.

“Maybe you should warm up in the bath first,” you say, pointing Jin down the hallway. “It’s the first door to the left. Tub’s ready and all, too.”

“Sorry about this,” Jin says, his movements sluggish. Hwoarang groans. He drags Jin to the bathroom and shuts the door in his face.

“Don’t blame me if you catch a cold, you big baby!”

Once you get to the kitchen, you hear Hwoarang complaining some more. “Ah, geez, why’s it so damn cold?” The heater beeps as he turns up the knob. Then Hwoarang peels off his wet shirt, arms flexing, and flops on the couch with a deep, tired sigh.

“Be sure to dry yourself properly,” you say, putting the kettle on. You don’t ask about Hwoarang’s preferred drink, only because you already know it by heart. When the water boils, you switch off the burner.

Before you know it, Hwoarang closes the distance between you. He puts his hand on the counter in front and locks you in with his body. You feel his bare chest at your back, his breath warm on your nape. He sighs again, tickling at your skin.

“Tough crowd, huh? What’s a guy gotta do to get some attention around here?” Hwoarang mouths at the crook of your neck. His other hand slides up your shirt. The temperature rises around you.

“Wait—we have a guest.” Though you lean into his touch, savoring the heat from his lips.

“Forget about that loser,” Hwoarang says. “You’re all mine, and mine alone. Got that?”

“Of course, silly.” Turning to face him, you hold him in your arms and share a long, deep kiss. He grows a mischievous grin, and lifts you onto the bare counter. You kiss again, bodies pressed flush together. Slowly, your hands inch up to take the towel from his shoulder, gently draping it over his damp hair.

“Don’t catch a cold,” you whisper, and Hwoarang smirks.

"Help me warm up?"

"Who's the big baby now?" You giggle in between more kisses. The cold has thoroughly left the room. Hwoarang keeps you in his embrace, all the same, content to have you close.

#tekken #hwoarang #x reader #could not resist the kabedon (kitchen counter edition) again #tekken fic

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hanjisungfanboy · 29 days

Note

Idk if this is too much, but can you do what skz thinks about pegging and how willing they’d be to do it? Most to least?

Of course! I don't think it's too much at all! Thank you for being my first request. <3 This actually made me think a lot and I had to switch the order around a little bit, but my brain loved the challenge! I really hope you enjoy it and it's what you wanted. If not, I can write another one based on your feedback.

This is for fun and should not be taken seriously or how they act in real life. (Mood board not mine btw!) Mature content below, MDNI please! <3

Content and content warnings - Pegging (obvi-), anal, smut, gn!reader(I got a little carried away and wrote a little for each member, and maybe a lot for Han), lots of subby members (I live for sub skz), praise, anal virgin Binnie, hands being restrained/tied, dom I.N, and experimenting. (Please let me know if I missed anything and I will add it!)

Most to Least; Pegging

MOST

Han

Are you surprised? Cause I'm not- And maybe I'm biased. BUT I just have this feeling. So, I'd say he's very willing and it would even become a normal thing in the bedroom. He's super open to a lot of stuff, bro is just freaky like that.

His legs are spread eagerly, Jisung on his back as he stares at you lovingly, slowly slipping into subspace as he gets that dazed look in his eyes. He went into the bedroom reassuring you that he was gonna take charge tonight, even if it was your strap on in his hole. And while that did hold true for a while, it didn't last. For the first several minutes, he was on top, riding you like his life depended on it as he sucked hickeys onto your collarbones. He even restrained your hands from touching him, giving you a sweet yet lust filled smile. He was doing just fine keeping this up, even taunting you when your strap on hit a spot within him just right. His body shook and he whined, stopping momentarily which got a response out of you, "What happened, Ji? Too much?" He bit his lip at your teasing, your smirk setting his nerves on fire. "N-No, not at all! I'm just..pacing myself, that's it." He tries to go on further, bouncing up and down on the strap despite how much he struggled to keep upright. He wanted to prove to you he could finish one night being the dominant one but as time went on, he starts to slow down, body growing tired from how eagerly he was bouncing on top of you. You leaned towards his ear as he whimpered, "It's okay, you can let go tonight. Let me take care of you. I'll make it feel really good, Jisungie." Your words went straight to his dick. He locked eyes with you, finally giving in. "Yes- Please fuck me." You chuckled, flipping him over, which lead to where the two of you were now.

Changbin

Listen, I know those muscles don't lie but I feel like once he fully trusts his partner in a relationship, he lets go a little and wants to be pampered sometimes. He's never received anything anally, but he was always curious to how it felt. So, when he brought it up to you, you were shocked as he had always taken the dominant role in the bedroom. That was the default for you guys until now.

"Pegging? No, I've never pegged somebody before. Why do you ask, Binnie?" "No reason..But uh, when I fucked your ass for the first time, did it hurt?" "Well yeah, it hurt a little bit, that's kind of norma- Wait, are you saying you want me to peg you?" His cheeks went red, and he cleared his throat. He averted his eyes, pretending to look at something so very interesting on the floor. After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah..Yeah, I wanted to try it with you." "You could've just said so, Binnie." You chuckled at his rare timidness. He was usually very bold, but his shy attitude made you want to spoil him. "Is that a yes?" He mumbled, glancing into your eyes. "Absolutely, my dear Binnie."

I am so convinced that once you play with his ass, he falls apart. Shoving his head into the pillows and everything as you two are in doggy style. And it has to be doggy style cause dat ass- (I'll stop now)

Felix

I believe Felix is such a sweetheart and softie in the bedroom, leaning more towards being submissive. He loves to please you, wholly devoted to making sure you both enjoy any experience you two go through. This being said, when the topic of pegging came up, he was intrigued but not at all opposed to the idea. Usually, he always makes sure your pleasure comes first but good boys deserve to be spoiled so the first time you peg him, he'll be your pillow prince for the night. <3

His head is thrown back, blonde and luscious locks falling onto the bed below him. His hands were gripping onto your arms as you eased the strap into him. He's biting his lip, trying to conceal his noises. He didn't expect this to feel so good. "Come on, Lixie, let those sweet sounds out. Tonight is about you, Angel. My pretty and good Angel." He always melts at your praise, a sucker for your approval. His teeth release his bottom lip and he gives you the signal to start moving. As soon as you do, he's a moaning mess, moans growing higher in pitch as the night goes on. Long story short, that night was one of the best things he's ever experienced.

Minho

Okay, hear me out. I think he would be hesitant to the idea. It would take a few days to digest. After those few days, he thought, 'Why not? What could go wrong?' Hmm...What could go wrong? He could love it more than he thinks he should. Aaand, that's exactly what happened. He definitely likes it on the rough side after getting used to it.

Minho's hands grip onto the sheets for dear life as you railed into him from behind. He was trying to keep calm and pretend he didn't love this, but his hips betrayed him as he kept pushing back into you. He was scared he would get addicted to this feeling, but his thoughts started leaving him as he whined quietly. "Does it hurt, Min?" You were nervous about how he was holding up, considering how much he hesitated to do this. "M-More..." He mumbled, more to himself than you. "What'd you say?" You genuinely didn't catch what he said, and this only drove him to beg. "More! Please, Y/N-ie, give me more. Faster, please." He whined loudly, afraid to look back at you. He was scared you would be disgusted that he loved this. You smirked and leaned forward, causing the strap to go deeper as you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. The tears in his eyes only fueled your desire to ruin him. "Alright, bunny. Let me devour you, tonight."

Seungmin

Hear me out(x2), I feel like he'd be super hesitant about it and wouldn't prefer it whenever you two have your intimate moments. BUT he decides he'll give it a try after he had a rough day and just wants to be taken care of for one day. It's a rare opportunity so of course you seize it! Long story short, he doesn't hate it, just doesn't prefer it unless he's feeling it. He prefers to take control more than give control so it's not often that he lets you peg him.

Seungmin was relaxing on your shared bed after a long day. He was stressed and just wanted to relax but you were horny. You plopped onto the bed right next to where he laid. He sighed; he could tell you wanted something. "Long day, Seung?" "Mhm..I know by how you're acting that you want to fuck but I'm not sure I have it in me tonight." You visibly pouted at this when he got an idea. "You know what? Grab that strap I know you've been holding onto. We can try what you've been wanting to try for a while." "Really?! Are you sure?" He laughed at your excitement. "Yeah, come on. Just go easy on me, today was a rough day." And with this, you scrambled for the strap-on and lube, eager to take care of him tonight.

Chris

Similar to Han, he's open to a lot of things and always tries everything once. He wouldn't be like, super excited to do it, but he wouldn't be dreading it either, y'know? He gives dom vibes, but I think he would be willing to be submissive. I heavily believe you would have to bring it up to him for him to try it, but he would be willing! I feel like it would be super soft and loving too! I feel like Chan would lean more towards the rough stuff, but he enjoys the romantic nights too.

Your hands were entwined with his while you fucked him, both of you locking eyes as you slowly thrusted into him. "How is it, Channie?" "Not as bad as I thought..But I definitely prefer fucking you." You both giggled as your bodies lovingly pressed against each other. Night like this were heavily cherished. It just proved how deeply you two trusted and loved each other. "Don't worry, I prefer you fucking me too. Though I do enjoy seeing how your body reacts to me." You whispered as you leaned closer. Your lips brushed against each other, and he chuckled softly before capturing your lips with his.

Jeongin

When you brought up pegging him, he thought you were joking at first. He laughed hysterically until he saw that you were serious. I am pretty convinced he would take much longer than Minho to digest and think about it. He loves being dominant in the bedroom, as he had never thought about being anything other than dominant. If he does end up letting you peg him, he wants to still be in charge.

Jeongin was on top, riding you as you sat upright. He had tied your hands behind your back with a ribbon, insisting that 'you can look but you can't touch', with a wink. He had one thigh on each side of you, trying not to put all of his weight on you as he bounced up and down on the strap. You absolutely loved the image of him riding you, but you wanted to touch him and mark his body up. "Innie..Please let me touch you." You whined, staring up into his eyes. He chuckled at your desperation. "You wanted to peg me, so right now you're going to enjoy the view. You'll get to touch later, I promise."

He didn't hate being pegged, but it's definitely not on his favorites list so maybe he'll entertain you once in a while.

Hyunjin

Spoiler alert, y'all tried it once and bro said never again. He didn't like the feeling and to be fair, pegging isn't for everyone. Even with all of the prep and lube, he just wasn't digging it.

He was on his back as you inserted the strap-on into him. His eyebrows furrowed the deeper you got. You noticed this and stopped, "Does it hurt, Jinnie?" "No..Just doesn't feel right." "Do you want to keep trying?" "Yeah, just a little bit longer." You nodded at this and slid the rest in, making sure to check in on him as you two continued. "How is it?" He made a face, trying to enjoy the feeling. "I don't really like it." "Do you want to stop?" "Yeah, if you don't mind." "Not at all." You assured him, kissing his forehead before pulling out completely. "Sorry, I just don't really like how it feels." He mumbled, feeling bad since you had wanted to try it. "Don't be sorry, babe. We tried it and I'm more than happy about that. I'm not gonna make you do something you don't like. Do you want to do something else or call it a night?" "Thanks, Y/N." He said, smiling softly. "Let's do something else, I'm still horny. As long as you're down." You chuckled. "When are you not horny?"

LEAST

I hope this was good! If you enjoyed, consider sending in a request, I don't bite. <3 (Unless you want me to- jk) Anyway, here's my request post if you want to see what I will or won't write. Bye!

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valentine-cafe · 4 months

Text

. ˚◞♡ 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 9948e mèng yáo / afab!reader ꒱ you've always been mèng yáo's favourite, but what happens when you see someone else by her side?

𖹭. content warnings◞ explicit content . thigh riding . bath sex . humping . scissoring . cunnilingus . nipple play . mommy kink . multiple orgasms . 4.6k

𖹭. receipts◞ this was written by our beloved 🍄anon and we just have to say GIIIDDD MUSHROOM WE GOT SO MUCH WHIPLASH FROM THE SWITCH BETWEEN SMUT AND FLUFF AAHHHH WE WERE SITTING HERE SQUIRMING READING THIS YOU'RE SO FUCKING TALENTED GCSHFVSH anyway please enjoy this fic we're in shambles

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪

Thinking about being Meng Yao's favorite servant!

She always finds some excuse for you to be near her! She feeds you the dish you brought her because she can't eat all of it by herself. She'll insist you call her by name. How she needs someone to carry a basket around as she tends to her flowers. She'll see if you want to feed Dhalia with her, and before you can leave, a fresh cup of tea will be placed in your hands.

She'll have you sit next to her dolled up all pretty and just talk to you about anything, all while her light fingers linger longer than they should. She has you try on some of her jewellery, preferably naked, just to see how it looks, of course.

That one time when she woke up late at night just to take a little stroll around the estate, and you just couldn't stop yawning, so she sat down on the stone bench, offering you her lap. Once you finally gave in, you laid upon the stone, a head resting in her lap.

She lulls you to sleep with gentle hands, stroking your exposed skin in tender circles. You awoke in her bedroom, to birds chirping and the gentle breeze of the wind. The sweet embrace of her hand running along your head that was pressed against her breast. You stretched your body and looked up, being met with a soft smile and a loving "good morning, my dove."

Following that night, when you made your way towards her quarters, a sheepish smile was placed upon your face and a warm feeling in your chest.

Imagine the surprise, seeing somebody else by her side, and you tried to be reasonable, tried to pull every possibility out of your head, but it still didn't help the bitter feeling in your heart.

So later that day, when everybody was asleep, you went to her workroom, plopping yourself on your knees in front of her. Teary-eyed head pressed into her lap with handfuls of her hanfu, you asked her through held back sniffles.

"Please don't replace me."

With widened eyes, Meng Yao wasted no time raising you up onto her lap, forehead touching yours with her hands hold your cheeks as she whispers onto your lips.

"I would never entertain such thoughts, my sweet."

She stretches one of her arms out, reaching behind you to pick up the neatly wrapped gift box, and plops it in your hands. With curiosity, you open the gift. You are met with a thin gold necklace, one that matches hers, with accents that compliment your skin. You let out a gasp, awestruck at the beauty of the jewellery.

"Meng Yao, this beautiful, thank you, I don't know what to say." She chuckles, a teasing grin on her features she whispers into your ear.

"Of course, my sweet dove, I had it custom-made just for you... though you are simply adorable when you're jealous."

You feel your cheeks heat up, staring at nothing but the piece of ornamentation. She takes the necklace out of the box and fixes it around your neck. One hand rests on the curve of your neck, the other finds its spot on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

"So beautiful."

Your eyes flicker at hers and find that she's staring directly at you, not the necklace. Her thumb runs over your lips, she whispers, eyes ogling down at your lips.

"I wish to feel your lips upon mine... is that alright?"

Breathless, you nod your head and mutter out a tiny "please." She takes hold of your chin, guiding your lips to hers, your eyes fall shut. Her lips feel so soft brushing up against yours, you felt her tongue brush against your lower lips, hesitantly you let your mouth drop open.

Her hand falls down to the small of your back, pushing your body closer. You let out a soft whine as her tongue dances around your own. The kiss gets rougher, and you feel an ache between your legs, you let your hips take an experimental grind.

Meng Yao pulls herself away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You try to chase after hers, but she puts her index finger on your lips, halting you in your tracks and wiping away the string.

A small pout takes form while you let your dilated eyes fall open, gazing upon her own heavy-lidded dioxazine ones. A smile on her lips, she grabs hold of your waist, standing you both up, she takes your hand in hers.

"Accompany me to the bathing rooms."

Upon arriving, she sets the tub, putting in oils and bath salts, to help the skin. She turns towards and disrupts the peaceful silence that settled between the two of you.

"Please be a dear and help me undress my sweet angel dove."

She turns her back towards you and you carefully step forward. Taking her hanfu off, layer by layer, revealing the intricate tattoo that takes its place on her lean muscular back. Averting your eyes quickly before she can turn around and reveal her bare body to you.

You opt to let your eyes trace the designs along the floor. She takes hold of your chin, slowly raising it, being met with her supple breasts that have your cheeks burning hot before your eyes locked with hers. A small smirk tugging at her lips she whispers.

"Let me take care of you."

You feel a pulse of arousal pooling in your abdomen. With a nod of your head, she pulls you closer by your hips, stripping you of your clothes.

Faced with her bust, you couldn't help but leave an open mouth kiss under her pebbled nipple, sucking the skin gently before pulling away. She lets out a small gasp, letting the rest of your clothes fall to the floor. She leans down to your face, tapping the tip of your nose, a teasing grin on her lips. She lets her fingertips glide down your spine with her other hand, a shiver runs through you.

"Naughty... very naughty indeed."

She steps away and moves closer to the bath. Standing next to it, she gestures towards the steaming water as if saying "you first." Realizing your naked, you wrap your arms around your boobs and take timid steps towards the bathing area.

She puts one of her hands on your back as you step into the tub, waiting for you to sit down. Settling down in the deep tub that accommodates her size, you play with your fingers under the water.

"Don't be so nervous, love. Does it feel good?"

You look over at her only to lock eyes with her wet core, you quickly turn your head away, your heart beating rapidly. You didn't know your body could get this hot, you stutter out your reply.

"I- well I mean" you take a deep breath and exhale. "Yes, thank you."

She lets out a deep chuckle, sitting down in front of you, her legs taking place on both sides of your body. She eyes you for a minute before speaking out.

"Come here."

You move closer with the help of her hands on your waist, she repositions herself, so you sit on top her thigh. She gives you a smile, a twinkle in her eye, leaning forward she gives your lips a peck.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?"

You let a shy smile grace your face and let out a small "thank you." She pulls your body flush against her, rubbing a hand up and down your back, laying your head against her chest.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hands resting on her shoulder, your lips forms a giddy grin, butterflies forming in your stomach. She gives the top of your head a kiss, your eyes flutter shut and gives the top of her breast a small kiss in return.

She lets out a small sigh, one hand dropping to hold onto the globe of your ass, giving it a slight squeeze, the other makes it way to your hip. You give another peck to her tit, then another and then another. The hold on your waist gets tighter, slowly gliding you over the apex of her thigh. Your bundle of nerves dragging deliciously back and forth.

Sparks of pleasure shooting throughout your body, coiling up in your abdomen. Letting out little moans, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, flicking and circling it with your tongue.

She lets out low grunts and grinds you faster against her thigh. Your body starts twitching, holding onto her shoulders tightly, you scatter various little hickeys over her breasts. Your breath hitches, squeezing her thigh around your own, you bite down on her shoulder, tears making their way in your eyes.

She litters kisses on the top of your head. Your blood rushes downward, fire pooling low in your abdomen and your muscles tense up.

The bath water splashes against the sides caused by the vigorous rolling hips. Words of encouragement are whispered huskily into your ear. A shudder runs through your body, arching your chest into hers. Panting against her body, you clenched your eyes shut, tears springing free. You come undone on her thigh, crying out between choked cries "mommy."

Tender hands gently guide your stuttering hips back and forth, riding out your high. You come back down hearing Meng Yao's sweet praise and a hand caressing your head.

"You did so well."

"Such a good little dove."

"It's all alright, I'm here"

"Such a pretty darling."

"You took it so well."

Sharp teeth biting onto her lip with heavy breaths, she stares down at you with lidded eyes, assessing the situation. She wants nothing more than to grind your face onto her throbbing cunny at this very moment, but she comes to the decision that she'll let you have a break, for now of course. She reaches over to grab a soft cloth, squirting soap into it.

Sitting you up between her thighs, she lathers the soapy cloth over your body. Your tired eyes roam her body, letting your fingertips track the marks you made. Using both hands to massage your muscles, working her way down towards your arms and towards your chest. The cloth runs against your nipple, gasping you flinch back. She purred in a hushed tone.

"You're so sensitive." She pauses before continuing. "Don't you want to wash me too?"

With a nod of your head, you pick up a different cloth and begin to do the same to her. Running it along her skin, stopping at her shoulder, you use both hands to ease the tension.

She lets out sighs of relief letting her head fall for a minute, only bringing it back up to bring focus to your tits. Squeezing the rag over your breasts, she set it down to the side, running her hands over your mounds. Pushing them together and pulling the hardened bud, you let out little moans.

She rinses the suds of your breasts, wrapping her arm around your lower back and pulls your chest to her face, taking hold of a nipple in her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the pebbled bud, cupping the other one in her hand, tweaking the nipple between her fingers.

Noticing how close your knee is to her folds, you gently nudge it against her core. A gasp fills the room, her face forms into a teasing smile, sinking her sharp teeth into your shoulder, simultaneously grabbing onto the back of your thigh and pushing it against her core.

You let out a whine, wincing at the stinging sensation, she runs her tongue over the punctured wound. She lets out a sigh, spread her legs a little more and grinding her swollen bundle of nerves against your knee. She grips the hair at the base of your neck, snapping it up and shoving her tongue roughly down your throat.

Your hands fall down to one of her breasts, squeezing it between her fingers and the other trails downwards, on her stomach. Before your fingertips can meet her throbbing clit she pushes you back, against the other side of the tub. Positioning herself over you, she rubs her cunt against your abdomen. She shoves your face between her mounds, you begin to lick and suck the sensitive area. She holds your hair tightly, panting out breathy moans. Rutting her hips back and forth, she hisses out.

"F-fuck."

Your eyes widen, a softly muffled "language" is heard below her. A smile makes its way to her face, shaking her head she lets out a tsk. You feel her hips starting to lose their rhythm, she barks out through gritted teeth.

"Say it again."

It takes you a second to realize what she wants. She lets out an airy gasp as you run your finger down her spine, letting your tongue drag up towards her collarbone purring out.

"Please come for me... mommy"

Biting down on her shoulder, electricity shoots throughout her body, hips stuttering. Her nails sink into your skin as a piercing moan rips throughout the room. Your hands rub her shoulders and back as you trail kisses over her chest and up to her neck, sucking the skin under her jaw gently.

She lets out huffs of air, and you help her come down from her high. A finger hooks under your chin, your lips are brought to hers. She then moves herself down, resting her head against your breasts.

A pleasant stillness fills the once lively room. Laying together and you share each other's warmth.

You run your fingers through her hair and slide a hand up and down her back. You see no need to disrupt the peaceful energy created in the room. She brings her hand up, putting one digit under your chin and guiding your face to hers, giving you one meaningful and deep kiss.

As if she couldn't get enough.

She pulls away, gazing longingly into your eyes. You feel her heart beating in her chest, and she feels yours. The next words she utters out is said in a lascivious whisper.

"I suppose... we should continue this in my quarters."

Your widened eyes is enough for her to carry on with her words. With a gleam in her eyes and a smug smile, she chuckles.

"You didn't think I was done with you? Did you?"

She stands up, the water droplets perfectly cascade down her soft skin. Dripping off her breasts in a way that has the throbbing between your legs creep back.

Stepping out, she fetches a robe, proceeding to hold out a hand to help you out. You take her hand in yours, coming to a stand and stepping out as well. She wraps the robe around you, arms going through the sleeves, it fits in your body perfectly.

She runs her hands down your front, only stopping at your tits to give them a quick squeeze that has you jumping. She chuckles, hands finding the fluffy belt to tie around you. Stepping back to admire her crafty work, she turns her body around, looking back at you from over her shoulder with a teasing grin and with a sway of her hips she goes to get another robe.

Her ass slightly shaking with each step, you feel the heat inch its way over your face once again, it has your cunt drippings. As she turns back around you quickly avert your eyes, she quirks her lips into a smirk before dropping it quickly.

Adjusting the robe onto her body, she slinks back over into your direction. Holding your chin with her thumb and pointer, she gives you a kiss on your lips. Leaning down to your ear she purrs.

"Are you ready?"

You feel yourself clench around nothing, nodding your head with hast. She takes your hand leading you towards the door, you stop and turn your head towards the discarded clothes. She stops with you, turning her gaze upon what caught your attention.

"I will have them sent to us in the morning dear. Let us go."

Exiting the bathing room and entering the halls, you walk side by side with her. Both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

Up ahead, she hears someone coming and tilts her down to the floor. A servant you recognize stops before you both. "Oh! Madam Zhao! It is so late, I hope..." the servant stops mid-sentence, her gaze finally landing on your intertwined hands.

Following the robes sleeves up she sets her eyes on the varying marks left on your skin, she then observes Meng Yao's state. The floor soon becomes her sole interest, shuffling on her two feet, she continues "...you are feeling well." Meng Yao just smiles sweetly at the servant.

"Mmm yes, of course I am well." She pulls you closer, dancing her fingers along your back until her arm hooks around your wasit, pulling you flushed against her. "We are enjoying our quality time together."

A heat spreads over your face, remembering what has happened mere moments ago. Now you look just like the servant you have worked along side with.

"Good night, and have a pleasant sleep."

"You as well Madam Zhao." The servant bows and takes a quick leave. A smile appears on Meng Yao's face, taking steps towards her room, pulling you along with her.

With no further interruptions, you make your way to her door, anticipation building up in your gut. She opens the door for you, letting you in first. Stepping in after you, she slides the door shut, closing the both of you off from the rest of the world.

Coming up behind you, she lays her hands on your shoulders, massaging them a little before letting her hands glide down your arms and placing a peck on your nape. In the quiet you whisper out. "I've dreamed of this for a while now... being with you, I mean." There is a moment of silence feeling her lips form a smile before she whispers back.

"So have I."

Her lithe fingers pull at your belt, tugging it completely off and letting it hit the ground. The robe falls apart slightly, revealing a strip of your skin.

Stepping around you to see you better, she pushed her hands under the robe. Hands roaming your stomach and up to the under part of your boobs. Tracing her thumbs under them, you let out a small sigh at the sensation.

She moves to push away the soft material, letting it fall around you. Skin prickling, your nipples harden in the cold room. Your hands go for her belt, untying it and pushing the robe away from her and having it meet the same fate as yours.

She gazes down at you, biting her lip with heavy eyes awaiting your next move. Your hands barely hover over her skin, admiring her body under her lust-filled gaze. You lean forward to give a peck on her nipple, watching it harden after.

She abruptly pulls your body against hers. Tits smooshed against the others. She reaches down, curling an arm around your back and a hand on your ass, pulling you up, your legs wrap around her waist.

Lips connect in a passionate kiss, full of unspoken words and promises. She walks over to her bed, laying you down in the middle without breaking apart. Her kisses run under your jaw, trailing down your neck to your collarbone.

Her lips graze over the necklace she had gifted you from earlier, she smiles fondly at the memory. Continuing her descent, she swirls her tongue around your nipple, doing the same to the other. Your body heats up under hers, letting out sighs, you feel the throbbing between your legs grow.

You lay a hand on her head. She trails her kisses down, just below your pubic bone before licking a straight line-up to your breasts. A spark runs up your spine, toes curling and thighs clenching, you let out a high-pitched whine.

She kisses down the wet strip of saliva she left behind, slower this time. When she reaches just above your puffy clit she licks a straight line-up, followed by another whine.

Your brows furrow, a pout forming on your lips, you send a glare down at her, trying to persuade her. You are met with her lifting slightly, gazing sharply in your eyes with a tilt of her head and one brow raised, challenging you. Her next words were said in a low command.

"Don't try to pull that on me."

You break your gaze and whimper out "I'm sorry."

She lets out an acknowledging hum, easing herself back better your legs. Repeating the teasing process four times, dancing her lips around your dripping cunt.

She loops her arms around your underside, gripping onto your hips, pushing you into the bed. With each kiss that is laid upon your thighs, a building pleasure coils between your legs, sucking and nipping on the sensitive skin.

Finally making her way to your core, blowing her cool breath on your burning, clit. She licks her soft lips and plants them on your swollen bud. A gasp leaves your lips, hips trying to buck under her hold, she moves away.

Your hands grab hold on top of hers as she glides her tongue up your slit in long and slow strokes. Breaking away before she meets your bundle of nerves, a drawled out whine leaves your lips.

"Please, pretty please mommy."

Her lips attach to your bud once more, sucking on it as she lets out a hum of approval. A small chuckle leaving her lips, letting go to speak in a low breathy tone.

"See? Was that so hard?"

She lets the flat of her tongue meet your pussy lips, dragging it upwards towards your clit, she skims over it. Gazing deeply into your eyes with a smug look on her face, she laps at your bud.

You writhe under her, pulling at her hands, airy moans leave your mouth. Your hands find their place on her head, fingers threading into her hair, you pull at the base of her head. She lets out a groan, vibrating against the bundle of nerves before her eyes fall close.

Her lapping turns into fast flicks, saliva falling down her chin, her grunts become longer the more you pull her hair. A familiar coil tightens in your abdomen, your cry comes out in choked sobs. Your muscles tighten preparing for a euphoric high only for it to be ripped away at the last second.

You feel tears gather in your eyes, whining out a multitudes of no's and why's.

Meng Yao climbs over you, locking the two of you in a passionate kiss that is mixed with saliva and arousal. She huffs, eyes are filled with desire, grabbing your legs, she pushes them against your chest, just far enough apart to see your breasts.

You wrap your hands around the back of your knees as she positions her hot core above yours. She places her hands over your own, knees sinking into the side of the bed next to your hot body.

A sinful grin pulls way on her lips, staring down at you with lidded eyes, your cunt gushes at the sight. She sinks her hips down on yours, dripping folds meet yours. A moan is shared between the two upon contact. She gives an experimental roll of the hips, leaving both of you sighing in relief.

You wiggle your hips side to side chasing after the pleasure. Jolting together as your clits rubbed one another deliciously. A taunting voice cuts through the air.

"Ever the patient one, aren't you?"

A pout forms on your face, your hands desperately aching to be on hers, you whimper out, "I'm sorry." She leans down, laying a soft kiss on your lips. A hand is brought to your neck, squeezing the sides, you let out a moan at the pressure, your hand takes hold of her arm.

With no warning, she rolls her hips roughly against yours, picking up momentum. A moan rips through your body as you feel yourself sinking into the mattress with each thrust. The moans she lets out sends arousal down to your sopping core, her breasts bouncing so rhythmically, you just had to reach out to touch it.

She lets out a high-pitched moan at the sudden touch, with a dark look in her eye she grinds her hips against yours harder. You let out strangled cries, feeling heat spreading under your skin. Your tits jiggle oh so perfectly below her, she can't bring herself to look away, a coil starts to tighten in her abdomen.

Her pants are heavy, and her thrusts turn erratic, a signifier that she's approaching her high. A red hue paints her face, her face is pinned in pleasure.

Your back arches, a heat pools at your groin, ready to burst, writhing and twisting under her strong hold. She lets go of your neck to take hold of your cheeks, puffing your lips. Leaning down to kiss them, tears pour out of your eyes, feeling your about to tip over the edge. She pants out in a husky whisper.

"Come on baby. Say mommy, do it for me."

Waves of pleasure take over you, a white veil curtains your vision. Her hips snapping against yours, you scream out "Oh fuck, m-mommy."

This sends her into a stupor, she throws her head back and her back arches. You reach your hands up to her mounds, squeezing one and tweaking the other. She takes hold of your hands and lets out a loud cry. Cunt gushing over yours, your fluids mix together as her rolling hips slow down, helping you both come down from your orgasms.

With heavy puffs of air she lifts her sopping cunt off of yours, strings of arousal connecting you together. She grabs your sore legs and places them down with care, giving you little kisses.

She grabs one of the discarded robes and cleans your tired body with it. You wince as the fabric meets your sensitive lips, she coos down at you, doing the same to herself once she's done with you. Throwing it in the corner for later, she climbs back on the bed next to you.

The cold air helps your body cool down. Tugging you into her, your body's slots together like a puzzle. One arm is drapped over your side, hand rubbing circles into your back. The other hand is brushing soft knuckles against your cheek.

Her gaze holds deep fondness as she looks upon you. One of your arms is hooked over her hip as the other goes to hold the hand by your face. She takes your hand, guiding it to her lips and giving your palm kisses without taking her eyes off yours.

You feel safe here in her arms, you always feel so at peace whenever you're with her, but this feels different. Like you could spend an eternity here with her, in the safety of her arms. Her soft-spoken words only prove this further.

"How are you feeling?" She pauses before speaking again. "I have greatly enjoyed this, I've always relished the moments when you're with me." A soft blush has crept over her cheeks.

You smile up at her, inching closer to press a peck on her lips, you answer. "That was wonderful... thank you. I enjoy every second of every time we have spent together. I... I care for you deeply." She pulls you closer, kissing your forehead and then lets her nose brush against yours, she whispers out.

"As do I."

Two hearts beat together, wrapped against one another in tangled arms. The two of you share sloppy slow kisses, a silent promise of partnership. You feel your body slip into a slumber, Meng Yao looks you over once more, gives a single kiss to your lips and joins you in sleep.

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13as07 · 7 months

Text

Object #4

(Pain/Nagato Uziumaki)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to morbidprince]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,800

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Don't worry, this part isn't mental health check level smut. It's just a fluffy soft Pain fic

Should I do a part five? With more Nagato fluff? Or maybe I’ll just make this a super long series and have fluffy parts with all the members to counter act all the smut. Idk I need opinions

———————————————————————

"Princess?" Nagato's voice calls out again, his feet making quick work to me. "Your back..." he mutters, fingertips running over the 'good as new' skin stretched over my spine.

"Ya, Itachi fixed it. I don't know how though," I fill in the blanks, tilting my head back.

The dry orange-haired man is distressed, face scrunched up as his eyes scroll over my body. "It seems your back isn't the only thing he fixed," he mutters, head dipping down. He hesitates for a moment before resting his chin on my shoulder. "I wish to hear about your day."

"Do you?"

Pain is silent for a beat before he answers. "No," he mutters, head tilting so his nose is resting against my neck. The metal of his nose piercings press gently into my skin, coating my neck in a gentle chilliness. "Have you decided where you wish to go tomorrow?"

"Kind of," I murmur, leaning backward so my back is pressed against Nagato's chest. "How long are we going to be gone?"

"However long you wish."

"Two weeks... not counting travel time?" I ask softly, worried I'm being too greedy and that it'll cause Pain's switch to flip. I know he'd never hurt me... unsexually, at least. That doesn't mean I enjoy his coldness though. Or how quickly his attitude towards me changes.

Nagato stays quiet, his breathing puffy his chest out and gently swaying me. "As you wish. We might have to... adjust our plans though." That's code for 'Pain is going to do work' on our vacation. Whether it's information collection, kidnapping, or killing somebody is beyond me, and I don't wish for it to no longer be beyond me.

"Alright," I mumble, tilting my head to rest it against his. "I want to see that waterfall you took me to a few months ago. The one with the two statues."

"The Valley of the End?" Nagato asks, a sigh escaping him with the question.

"I don't know. We don't have to go there," I whisper the last part, worries of Pain's bipolarness filling my mind. "I can pick somewhere else."

"It is alright. I have business in the Hidden Lead and something to handle in the Hidden Sound so it is quite perfect." The explanation comes out as a grumble, making me question whether Nagato is telling the truth or is simply trying to calm my nerves.

"Alright."

"I will give you three weeks, travel not included, aside from my business," he mutters against my skin, brushing kisses to my throat. His mouth piercings snag like the ones on his nose. Unlike this morning, Pain is careful as he moves across my skin, careful not to nick me again.

"Naga?"

"Princess?"

"Are you Pain or Nagato... Or Yahiko?" My heart races with the question, worried that Pain's good mood won't stretch any further today if it'll even stretch this far.

He falls quiet, sucking a bit of my skin into his mouth. His focus stays there, bruising my skin some more as he stays silent. "It is complicated. Would you like an explanation?"

"I don't know."

Silence envelopes us again, Pain's mouth focused on marking a part of my shoulder this time. "Pain is an alias, Nagato is my consciousness, Yahiko is my body," he mutters against me, kissing the new bruise.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I know, Princess. All you need to know is that I am Nagato." The explanation still doesn't make any sense, even in the dumbed-down state it was given to me. "Nagato is who cares for you." The sentence comes out soft, the usual harshness not present.

"Does Nagato love me?" I ask, snapping my eyes closed and holding my breath once the sentence is out.

His movements stale, lips still pressed against me. "Why do you ask?" My breath comes out rough, almost painful as I exhale. I shrug my shoulders, deciding I no longer want to have this conversation. "I care for you in ways you need and want. I protect you from the cruelty of the world. I have removed worries, destruction, and torments from your life. You are one of my reminders."

"One of your reminders for what?"

"For why the akatsuki exists," he mutters, lips back in motion. Pain works his way around my back, the gentle pressure and pokes of his piercings chasing his lips.

"Does it bother you that the other members... enjoy me?"

"Not particularly. I cannot be around in those ways all the time. If you enjoy yourself it does not bother me."

"Is that why Hidan is hanging in a tree?"

Nagato hums a yes, lips trailing back up my other shoulder. "Hidan hurt you in an unenjoyable way, so he shall know pain. You cannot enjoy yourself if you are slowly bleeding to death and slipping into unconsciousness."

"Naga?" He hums a yes again, head lifting before resting on my shoulder again. "I'm hungry."

"Then we shall go eat. Afterward, we can go down for the night. We'll need to pack and leave early if we wish to make a fast pace." His arms wrap around my waist, lifting me off the bed before settling me on my feet.

Pain is back to business, hand wrapped up in my chain to lead me behind him. I can already feel the coldness filtering from him, our soft moment to be left in the med-bay.

———————————

My eyes trail over Nagato, watching him carefully clean his piercings and poles. His fingers are nimble, tugging out another pole from his arm. My sight trails over his fingers, watching him dip the towel into the water mix before he scrubs at the metal.

"Why do you do that?" I ask, crawling out of our bed to head toward him.

"Why do I do what?" Pain asks, his eyes flickering up to catch my sight through the mirror.

I settle my hands on his shoulders, toying with the poles poking out. "You clean your pole things every night. The same routine. One at a time. Why?"

Nagato's focus shifts back down to the metal, scrubbing at it again before sticking it back into himself. "Well, I clean them so they don't get infected. I clean them one at a time because without them I can no longer control this body."

"That is confusing," I mutter, fingers wrapping around one of the poles. I tug on it, raising it a bit. The sound of it moving sends shivers down my spine, in a not-nice way. "They make a weird sound," I add, shifting it back into place.

"It is the sound of my blood shifting around the metal," Pain explains, mimicking my actions to clean a new pole. "My piercings do not do that, but the poles across my body do. Have you packed?"

"No," I whisper, toying with the bar through his left ear. I shift it sound, twirling it in a circle. "I don't know what to pack."

"For the Leaf Village, it is usually hot and rains most nights but doesn't get chilly. The Sound Village is usually gloomy and rainy, so it's cold most of the time."

"So, a mix of everything?"

"I will pack your bag," Nagato sighs, eyes flickering up to look at me before he goes back to the project at hand. "You will forget something anyway."

"Alright," I hum out, shifting my focus away from our conversation.

I litter his neck with kisses, working my way down and across his shoulders as Pain works away. My nose occasionally bumps into one of his poles, getting me a disapproving grunt.

When his grunts occur more often, I stop covering him in kisses. Instead, I mess with his necklace, running my fingertips over the chain links and toying with the spikes of it. "Naga?"

"Princess?" He groans, tilting his head back. My eyes trail over his, rolling over the purple swirls. "What is it that you want?"

"I don't know," I mutter, clinging to his chain as I coat his cheeks with my lips. "I just missed you today."

"Do not say that," he husks out, head tilting back upright. "It is displeasing when you say things like that. What is it that you want? I cannot fulfill your expectations if I don't know them."

"I don't know," I repeat in a whisper, resting my chin on the top of my head. "I just want your attention."

"You have my attention," Nagato mutters, chest puffing out before slowly falling back down in another exhausted exhale. "I do not know how to fill your request, Princess."

"Not all your attention," I grumble, eyes jumping around the mirror to take in Pain's figure. He's a pretty sight to look at, even if it's not his body... or maybe it is? I'm still confused about his explanation earlier.

"You are chatty today. What has changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have had you for a year or so now. You have never been this curious about me. What has made you so curious?"

"I spent some time with Konan today," I answer shortly, shifting my eyes away from the mirror. "I guess I just realized I don't know you like she does."

"Of course you don't. Konan has known me longer, she will know more about me."

"Really? No way," I mutter under my breath, pulling back from the emotionally stunted man.

"Princess?" He calls, hand shooting back to grab hold of my arm. "I don't like repeating myself. I cannot fulfill your expectations if I don't know them. You need to voice your needs."

I shrug my shoulders, eyes flickering between the room and Pain's tilted back head. He's getting upset, eyebrows forwarded and jaw set as he looks at me. "Do you like Konan?" I ask softly, deciding to focus on our closet.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you love her?"

"Of course not. Do not be unintelligent," Nagato mutters, letting go of his hold on me. "Just because I wish her safety does not mean I love her. You are present here, not her, unintelligent Princess." He mumbles the last line, his words almost lost under his breath.

"Naga?"

"What is it that you need now?" He huffs, his patience running thin.

"I like you," I whisper, eyes shifting back to the mirror to take in his reaction.

"Do not say that either. It's displeasing."

———————————

"Princess? Princess, you need to wake up," Nagato groans, hand cupping my arm as he shakes me. "It's time to be awake. Be awake."

"I am awake," I mutter, shifting to my side. My body bumps into him, encouraging me to cuddle into him and slip back off to sleep.

"We are awake," he repeats, arms wrapping around me before I'm lifted. "We have to get going to make the most of daylight." Pain carries me out of bed, holding me bridal style as he shifts around the sheets.

"I am awake," I also repeat, wrapping my arms around Nagato's neck as he stands up. "It's too early."

"You, Princess, live a timeless life to eliminate any anxieties being cooped up could cause. You do not know if it is early or late. You do not know the day, the month, or the year. You live with no worries because I have eliminated all possibilities of them."

"Fine, I'm tired," I whine, burying my head into his neck. "I want more sleep."

Pain exhales through his nose before letting me tumble back down on our bed. "Go back to sleep while I pack. Then you while be awake for the day so we can go on your trip."

I curl up under the blankets, soaking in the only warmth available in the freezing room. My eyes are lazy, half asleep but not fully, as I watch Nagato walk circles around the room. He mutters to himself as he packs our bags. It's entertaining watching him dangle our clothing as he looks them over, checking to see if our outfits match enough for himself but not enough to be noticeable.

Once he's satisfied with his choice of outfits, Pain's attention shifts to the make-shift vanity. His movements are slow, moving our stuff around slowly and softly so it doesn't make as much noise as normal. "For wanting more sleep, you are not sleeping," he mutters, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

"I'm resting my body. It's pretty much the same thing," I mutter, burying my head under the blankets.

I stay like this, bubbled in the heat of our blankets and shifting around consciousness and unconsciousness. After what seems like forever in my hazy state, Nagato's hands slide under the bedsheets, pawing around for me. "Princess?" He calls, the sound of him and the sheets shifting fills the room before his head pops under the blanket as well. "Hello, Princess."

"Hello, Naga."

His face scrunches up, nose curling at the nickname today. "Do not call me that," Pain mutters, shifting forward to wrap me in his arms again. Like before, I'm lifted from the bed, but this time he takes the blanket with him. "I believe you are cold, not tired."

Nagato is not wrong, but he's not right. Despite the majority of my wounds being healed, my body still aches from everyone the day before. "Whatever you say, Pain," I mutter, wrapping myself - and the blanket - around him.

"Do not call me that either," he grumbles, settling me on the ground in front of our closet. Despite his tone, Nagato seems entranced by our closer again, shifting through our clothes in search of something.

"What should I call you then?" I ask, poking around my bag to get a look at the clothes he packed.

"Just... Nagato."

———————————

Pain's fingers dig into my thighs, clinging to my skin as he carries me across the lake. My eyes are set downward, watching as he walks on the water. "How do you do that?" I ask, nodding towards his feet.

Nagato stalls for a second, shifting me on his back before tipping his head towards me. "Chakra control. Would you like an explanation?"

"Yes, please."

His steps start again, hands back to clinging to me as he walks. "I control my chakra flow to my feet. My chakra then clings to myself along with the water molecules."

"So it's like a floating board between us and the water," I mutter, watching the ripples caused by Nagato's steps.

"Kind of," he mutters, stalling his steps again. "Would you like to see what it's like?"

"I don't have chakra, remember? That's why I'm not a big bad Akatsuki member," I tease, running my hands through his hair before shaking his head a bit.

"Chakra is our life force. If you are alive you have chakra," Nagato corrects, shifting me to rest against his torso with him pressed against my back instead of me pressed against his. "Besides, even if you had Shinobi level chakra, you would not be an Akatsuki member. Would you like to stand on the water or not?"

"Sure." Pain's hands flip from being under my legs to being under my arms. His movements are slow as he lowers me, just enough that the bottom of my sandals rests on the water's surface. "Nagato?"

"Princess?"

"What do you mean by 'I wouldn't be an Akatsuki member' anyway?"

My question is ignored as he carries the brunt of my weight, letting me take fake steps on the water as we continue forward. "Because I do not care if Deidara, or Kisame, or Itachi, or Kakuzu die..." The speech isn't finished, the 'but I care if you do' isn't spoken, but it still hangs in the air.

"What if I wanted to be a member," I push, mind set on getting the terrorist leader to voice his feelings for once.

I'm snatched up from my dangling position, pressed against his chest as Pain's fingers dip into my sides hard enough to promise new bruises. "I have worked very hard to give you a sheltered life and I am working even harder to not have to shelter your existence in this world. If you ever even think about the possibility of being a member again, I will cage you like the object you are to ensure that you are safe from the cruelty our lives have to offer."

Nagato's threat scares me a bit. It's a reminder that he's not some traveling businessman, and is a terrorist who has done terrible things, even if I don't know the details of those things.

"You show you care in weird ways," I comment, letting my legs go loose around his waist. The group leader looks at me with pursed lips and a tilted head but doesn't comment back. "I like you," I mutter, burying my head into his shoulder.

"I will drop you and let you drown."

"No, you won't."

"... no, I won't."

———————————

What I assume is as close to anxious as Pain can get waves off of him as the outskirts of a village falls into view. His hand clings to my necklace, keeping me less than a step apart from him. "So... this the Leaf Village?" I ask, knowing the answer is most likely no, mostly from the lack of trees and the overabundance of hills.

"No, it is not," Nagato mutters, tugging me closer. I'm buried in his frame, his chest bumping into my back as we walk and his hands ghostly pawing over my hips. "This is the Valley Village."

"The Valley Village?" He hums a yes, head on a spiral as we walk past the first line of buildings. "That sounds dumb."

"Yes, well that is its name. Shall we find food and then decide on somewhere to stay?" It's phrased as a question but toned as a statement, Nagato's mind set on ushering us behind the safety of walls before the sun - and the village's foot traffic - goes down. He's always insisted that there is safety in numbers, hence his unliking of us being out during the night when the amount of buzzing is at the daily low.

Pain's closeness somehow gets closer the further into the village we go. I'm pretty sure if there was a way to embed me in his skin, he would while we're away from the hideout. "What do you want to eat?" He whispers in my ear, keeping his eyes low as I'm ushered down the road.

"A plater of rainbow rolls sounds amazing right now," I answer, squirming in his hold. I like the few occasions Nagato clings to me, but I don't like the feeling of him pretty much shoving me down the street.

His hold loosens a bit, hold still firm but less bruise-threatening. "As you wish," he mutters, head picking up some to scan the buildings. "Perhaps let us find a place to stay first," Pain mutters, eyes locked on the Inn tucked in the corner a few feet away. "Then I will find you a platter of rainbow rolls."

"Good ones, not those convenience store ones. They always taste gross."

"I would never get you sushi from a store," he mutters, ushering me across the road. We make a beeline for the hotel, Pain scanning the street again before tucking me inside the building. "Be silent, be hidden," he whispers in my ear before tugging me towards the desk.

I do as I'm told, keeping my mouth screwed shut and tucking myself into his side. Nagato calls this 'hiding in plain sight'. It's a lecture I get every time we go somewhere. Don't do anything to stand out and you won't, so I don't.

My eyes trail around the entrance as Pain talks to the receptionist. My attention snags on the indoor pond, the marble tiles of it glistening because of the setting sun. In the water is a school of koi fish, their colors mimicking the sunset.

"Princess?" Nagato whispers in my ear, his arm wrapping around my waist to tug me further against him. I hum a yes, stopping myself from using his name; another lecture I get everytime we go out. The leader's name is 'seen as a curse among the common world' or whatever he says, so I can't use it in public. "I got us a room," he mutters, gently leading me forward again.

"A fancy room?" I ask, eyes tearing away from the pond to take in the hallway decorations.

"Yes, a fancy room," he grumbles, eyes scanning the wall plackets in search of our room. I'm tugged to a stop when he finds the right one, my body tucked between his frame and the frame of the doorway. "See? Fancy," He continues to groan, pushing the unlocked door open.

The room is fancy, at least as fancy as an outskirts Inn can be. The room is decorated in that fake gold stuff and vibrant whites. The sun melts through the big windows, coating the bed in the colors. The windows give a nice view of the mountain range, at least a section of it. The sharp edges of the stone are both beautiful and terrifying as my eyes scan over them.

"Is it displeasing to you? I can get us a different room," Nagato rambles, his usual business tone coating his words.

"It's not displeasing. I think the view is pretty," I answer, squirming from his engulfing frame to enter the room. I quickly slip out of my sandals before settling on the bed, facing towards the window with the intent to memorize the view. "I should have brought my camera or at least my sketchbook," I mutter regretfully, the idea of making the view permanent for myself out of reach.

"I brought your camera and I will grab you some paper while I'm out," Nagato sighs, securing the door before his attentions focus on our bags.

"You did?" I ask, attention shifting away from the view as a smile covers my face.

"Of course I did. I did not wish to listen to your whines about lack of photos," he answers, his patience starting to wear thin from the long travel and unforgiving sun we experienced throughout the day.

Maybe it's a good thing Nagato decided to eat in instead of going to a restaurant. I think him having a little break from me will help his patience rebuild.

"I like you," I repeat, my smile getting bigger as I turn back towards the window.

"I do not like repeating myself, Princess. I already told you to stop saying that. Say it again and I'll abandon you here."

"No, you won't."

"No, I won't," he mutters more to himself than me. "That does not make your statement any less displeasing."

———————————————————————

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